EDITORS

PmL1P D. JORDAN, PHD. CHARLES M. THOMAS, Pa.D. Miami University Ohio State University

ANNALS OF AMERICA

VOLUME V

ANTE-BELLUM KENTUCKY t ""'•",!. . ' .. .\, ~; ' ~ , ~ .. ~ - '

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ANTE-BELL UM KENTUCKY A Social History, 1800~1860

By F. GARVIN DAVENPORT Transylvania College

Oxford, Ohio The .Miasiaaippi Valley Presa 1943 COPYRIGHT, 1943

THE MISSISSIPPI VALLEY l>R!ss

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form except by a re­ viewer who may quote brief passages in a re­ view to be printed in a magazine or newspaper.

Printed in the United State$ of America To Dr. and Mrs. Lewis Henry Hightower

EDITORS' FOREWORD From the time that Dr. Thomas Walker penetrated the Cum­ berland Gap and gained a vision of the fertile land that lay be­ yond to modem days when each year the Bluegrass country is the cynosure of thousands of eyes, Kentucky has had an en­ viable history. Daniel Boone, Henry Clay, the Lincoln family, and Rafinesque all gave color to the state's story. Professor Davenport is well qualified to interpret the social and intellectual history of Kentucky during the dramatic first sixty years of the nineteenth century. For years he has investi­ gated the daily life of the common man and the ease and luxury of the aristocracy; he has studied the growth of education and penal institutions; he has written the story of science and of medicine; and he has searched for and brought to light much of the literature and music of ante-bellum days. The result is an attractively written, sound narrative based upon careful research among ne,vspapers, public documents, and personal papers. Professor Davenport's book throws new light not only upon one of the most dramatic periods in the nation's history, but also upon the State of Kentucky. P.D.J. C.M.T.

. IX

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS The author is deeply indebted to a number of people and or­ ganizations for assistance rendered during the preparation of the manuscript. Much of the research was made possible by a grant­ in-aid from the Social Science Research Council. The actual re­ search work was hastened by the splendid cooperation of Mrs. Muriel Drell of the University of Chicago Library, Mrs. Mary T. Moore and Miss Elizabeth Coombs of the Kentucky Li­ brary, Western Kentucky State Teachers' College, Miss Ludie J. Kinkead and Mr. Otto A. Rothert of the Filson Club, Mrs. Jouett Taylor Cannon of the Kentucky State Historical Society Library, Mrs. Charles Norton and Miss Roemol Henry of Tran­ sylvania College Library, Miss Mabel C. Weaks of the New York Public Library, and the staffs of the Lexington Public Library, The University of Kentucky Library, and the Louis­ ville Public Library. Numerous individuals have made private collections available and in this connection Mr. L. V. Hagan, Jr., of Austerlitz, Kentucky, deserves special mention. Valuable suggestions were made by Professor Frank Owsley of V ander­ bilt University, Professor Thomas D. Clark of the University of Kentucky, Mr. Charles Staples and Mr. Samuel M. Wilson of Lexington, and numerous friends within and without the historical profession. Thanks are due to Mr. Winston Robert Stubbs of Transylvania College for his patience while listening to many revised sections of the manuscript. Finally the author is very grateful to the following people for their careful and critical reading of the manuscript in whole or in part: Professor William C. Binkley of Vanderbilt University, Professor J. Huntley Dupre of the University of Kentucky, Brigadier General Fred W. Rankin of Lexington and Washing­ ton, D. C., Mr. Winston Coleman, Jr., of Lexington, and my wife, Katye Lou Davenport. Lexington, Kentucky July 7, 1943 . X1

INTRODUCTION Social life in Kentucky in the days before the Civil War was much more complex than one might expect in a region that was fundamentally agrarian. Perhaps the most interesting feature of Kentucky's history in this period was the rapid development of cultural interests. From a shadowy beginning in the days of the American Revolution the state had developed into an impor­ tant outpost of civilization by the turn of the century with towns such as Danville and Lexington exhibiting substantial residences, educational institutions, race tracks, a theater of sorts, and an intelligentsia that made up in caliber what it lacked in numbers. During the next half century social and intellectual growth continued and ambitious efforts were made to keep abreast of national movements in science, religion, education, literature, and the arts. It is to be remembered, however, that this progress did not affect all Kentuckians in equal degree, and that thousands of men and women in the isolated mountain region, in the more remote lowland rural areas, and on the squatter lands along the Ohio, were not influenced at all. The same observation may be made with respect to the lower cla~es in the towns where pov­ erty and illiteracy, with all the attendant evils, were prevalent. Kentucky was a land from which sprang many educational institutions which were forced by circumstances to struggle forward with sporadic leaps from recurrent depressions and periods of despair. Against the background of the frontier of 1 800, Transylvania University with its courses in science, lan­ guages, and higher mathematics was something of a curiosity to the average Kentuckian who was not especially interested in book learning. Even the friends of the university did not give it united support. The founders and the small group of patrons could not agree on the purpose and management of the institu­ tion. To some it was to be a symbol of Calvinistic Presbyter­ ianism; to others it was to represent gentility; some regarded it ... Xlll as a storehouse of great truths where young men might be trained in democracy and statecraft. Somewhere in the confusion were a few visionary minds with lofty educational ideas but Transylvania did not attain great­ ness because its leadership was never consistent and public sup­ port was never sustained. If President Holley's impressive aca­ demic program had not been uprooted in r 8 2 7 the subsequent history of Transylvania and the history of higher education in the state would have in all probability followed a more produc­ tive course. In spite of its stormy career, the university granted over 2000 degrees before r 860. The majority of these, of course, were conferred by the virtually independent medical depart­ ment. But even this popular department did not escape the un­ dermining effects of personal feuds and internal dissension. It is indeed an ill wind that does not blow somebody good. Transylvania's troubles became assets to rival colleges and es­ pecially to Centre and the University of Louisville. These in­ stitutions profited by Transylvania's mistakes and grew stronger because of the weaknesses in the Lexington school. There was no unified movement in Kentucky for a public school system. Instead there was opposition and indifference, aristocratic prejudices and political incompetence. But the schools came nevertheless and in appraising them it is only just to recognize the difficult circumstances surrounding their de­ velopment. It is because of the fact that the odds were against them from the beginning that the contributions of educators such as Benjamin 0. Peers and Robert J. Breckinridge stand out as real achievements. They were crusaders in a cause that is never lost nor ever completely won. Kentucky produced other types of crusaders and pioneers, who were anxious to improve the world's storehouse of know­ ledge and to increase the efficiency and improve the health of their fell ow men. These were the pioneers with scalpels and test tubes. Kentucky's scientific interests constituted one of the state's most valid claims to intellectual progress. It was the birth­ place of ovariotomy. It claimed such distinguished doctors as Gross, Dudley and Drake. To be sure, it was also the birthplace of Cookeism, one of the most fallacious therapeutical theories in American medical history, but the spectacular dosing so charac- . XIV tensttc of the Cooke disciples hastened the downfall of the calomel quacks and the mercury doctors. Students of botany, zoology, and paleontology were active in the Kentucky region and while individual contributions were often modest the sum total was impressive. Science was begin­ ning to come to the aid of the farmers which was a significant factor in an area fundamentally agricultural. Of special value \Vas the utilitarian study of the chemistry of soils, minerals, and vegetables and the subsequent experimentation with artificial fertilizers, cover crops, and crop rotation. This movement to bring science to the farm was not original in Kentucky. It was an international movement springing from Germany and Eng­ land and given impetus in the United States by such men as Edmund Ruffin of Virginia and Robert Peter of Kentucky. Reprints of foreign agronomical studies, the American farm journals, and the various state geological reports assisted in dis­ seminating the new scientific ideas. The Kentucky farmers' a~ociations were valuable agencies in the same cause. However, the general picture of agriculture in Kentucky changed slowly. Illiteracy and indifference automatically restricted the use of scientific data. But the new science had arrived; it had its en­ thusiastic disciples and slowly but surely it made new converts. In religious life the Great Revival and the movements that flowed from it overshadowed all other episodes. In the wake of this spiritual revival and emotional upheaval there marched thousands of converts into the camps of the Baptists and Metho- .

XVlll CONTENTS

CHAPTER PAGE . Editors' Foreword ...... IX . Acknowledgments ...... n . . .. Intro d ucnon ...... X11l

I Country Folks ...... I

II Life in Town ...... 2 1

III College Halls ...... 37

IV Crusaders for Public Education...... 60

V Lancet, Pill, and Scapel ...... 80

VI Flora, Fauna, and Test Tubes ...... 107

VII The Great Revival and its Aftermath ...... 1 I 7

VIII On the Fringe of Society ...... 142

IX Growth of the Artistic Spirit ...... I 59

X Letters and Belle-Lettres ...... 17 1

Notes ...... 203

Bibliography ...... 2 2 7

Index ...... 2 3 1

CHAPTER I

COUNTRY FOLKS

ARLY KENTUCKY settlers found beauty and ugliness in their adopted realm. The rugged mountain area that manyE of them crossed on the westward trek had a strange fas­ cination for the typical frontiersman who asked for nothing better than a sheltered valley with a clear-running stream and abundant game on the timbered slopes beyond. Yet many migrants regarded mountain ranges as barriers which slowed their progress to the land of milk and honey that lay beyond the horizon. In passing they cursed the majestic heights and they cursed the tangled forest that hung like a dark green cur­ tain between their weary, sweat stung eyes and the promised land. Those who found the mountains friendly built their homes on protected shoulders or in narrow valleys, but the others moved westward to the Bluegrass plains, the canebrakes, and the barrens where they mingled with other pioneers who had foil owed the route of the Ohio River and the trails from Mays­ ville. For those who had an eye for easy profits, the land of the Bluegrass, rich as a well-manured garden, was the best; but even in this favored region the forest persisted although open meadows were common. The settlers who moved farther west and south discovered a great open region, almost treeless, or so it seemed to a generation of men whose lives had been based on a forest culture. This area was to be called the barrens and, as was the case with the mountains, its effect on its newly acquired human inhabitants was not uniform. To some persons it seemed to be a vast, useless waste. Others perceived its advantages, its potential strength, and stayed long enough to see its beauty and its agricultural wealth. They discovered that the land was good, that the spring brought a carpet of gra~ and flowers, and that wild fruit, especially strawberries, were plentiful. So abund­ ant were the berries according to tradition, that a man could not 2 ANTE-BELLUM KENTUCKY cross his fields without dying his boots red with the juice of the wild fruit.1 The pioneers of Kentucky read Nature's signs of fruitfulness and they faced the future with an optimistic spirit. As time passed the pioneer became a yeoman farmer or a rich planter, frontier stations grew into towns and cities, and life beyond the Alleghenies progressed slowly from the simplicity of the wilderness to the complexity of nineteenth century civilization. But in the mountains life did not change with the changing times. The mountaineers did not progress with the Bluegrass or with the Ohio Valley. Civilization passed them by and left them isolated. Ethnologically, the history of Kentucky begins with the mountains. The rugged, dissected highland area was occupied by man in pre-historic times long before the period of Indian warfare. These ancient "Kentuckians" lived in caves, hunted wild animals for food and clothing, and varied their diet with wild fruits and berries. They were few in number as the land they occupied would not sustain a large population. It seems evident, too, that they did not alter their environment, and centuries later the Indians found the rugged terrain in a virgin condition. But the Indians did not settle this region of mountain and valley. They crossed it, hunted in the woods, fished in the streams, but did not establish permanent homes or towns. Conse­ quently, when the pioneers came in the last quarter of the eighteenth century they found the highlands essentially un­ changed by the hand of man. There were various ethnic elements represented in the or­ jginal mountain population. There were Dutch and Germans from Pennsylvania, and Scotch-Irish, English, Huguenots and Germans from the back country of Maryland, Virginia, and the Carolinas. Perhaps the basic element was Anglo-Saxon; at least an overworked tradition and energetic modem linguists have left this impression. More important to the historian is the fact that the mountain environment, the isolation, freedom from ad­ mixture, and intermarriage produced a people of remarkable homogeneity. The same environment shut out the culture progress of the world and throughout the ante-bellum period the inhabitants of COUNTRY FOLKS 3 the Kentucky mountains continued to live in an eighteenth­ century frontier condition. They raised pioneer crops by prim­ itive methods. Social standards and customs in 1 860 varied little from the conditions of 1 790. Superstitions old and new sup­ planted actual knowledge. They continued to build their homes of logs, with chimney and fireplace made of rock slabs and mud. Roofs were constructed of split boards and windows were not considered a necessity. The timbered slopes provided fuel and water came from springs or shallow wells. Household utensils were made from gourds of various shapes, supple­ mented, perhaps, by one or two iron pots. Furniture and farm implements were homemade as were most of the clothes. On the more prosperous farms there were a few cows. Almost every farmer had a hog, a few chickens, and a small apple orchard. Corn was the main crop. It was turned into hominy, meal, and white mule whiskey, three products that occupied the place of honor in the mountaineer's larder. 2 Although isolated, the mountaineers could not escape com­ pletely from the institutions of the world beyond the ridges. The long arm of the law reached far up the valleys and county court was held at regular intervals in the foothills even before court houses were constructed. Jails were built to confine mountaineers who broke the law although many criminals escaped unpunished into the wilderness. The typical jail was sixteen feet square, made of strong, hand-hewn timbers one foot thick. A few log jails had two stories, and in some instances the first floor served as a court room. The courts attempted to act as guardians for the more unfortonate people of the moun­ tains. Orphan children and children of disreputable parents were apprenticed to lawabiding citizens who guaranteed that they ~ould bring up their wards in a respectable manner in re­ turn for a certain amount of labor the nature of which varied according to the age of the children concerned. Another insti­ tution that reached into the mountains was slavery. The number of Negroes was never large but here and there in the foothills a more prosperous farmer had one or two black servants, prob­ ably brought in from Virginia at the time of migration. 3 The life of mountain women was difficult but not drab from their own point of view. The typical housewife did as much 4 ANTE-BELLUM KENTUCKY work as her husband. She fed the cow, hoed the corn, dried the beans, chopped wood, carried water, pounded com, manu­ factured homespun on her spinning wheel and loom, and made floating-wick lamps from clay and bear grease. Needless to say, she cooked and bore children and raised her daughters to be good housewives and her sons to be farmers on almost per- pendicular fields. · Aside from house work, the mountain girl found plenty of time for the pleasures of courtship. She started "sparking" in her early 'teens and if she were so unfortunate as to be unmarried at twenty she was considered out of circulation and placed on the cull list. Weddings were festive occasions and were usually staged in the bride's front yard for the simple reason that her home was not large enough to accommodate the guests. Roar­ ing campfires, piles of food, and buckets of liquor put every­ body in a gay mood. In some cases where the com whiskey flowed liberally, members of the wedding party danced around the fire all night singing "Old Sister Pheby" and other songs of a similar nature. The mountain people, although they were suspicious of strangers until their business was made known, were generally hospitable to outsiders as well as to members of their own so­ ciety. They were sociable by necessity and their entertainment consisted of community activities such as wood-cuttings, apple­ cuttings, corn-shuckings, bean stringings, and house-raisings. Drinking, dancing, and courting were the main diversions at such events. Funerals were solemn occasions, but after the prim­ itive ceremony at the new grave high on the windy hill, the bereaved family, their friends, and the preacher returned to the house for a bountiful meal and a pleasant reunion.4 In the early years of the nineteenth century, certain features of mountain life were repeated in the lowland rural areas. Hous­ ing conditions, food, clothing, and agricultural methods were similar and remained so until the frontier was eliminated. But while mountain life stood still, the people of the lowlands pro­ gressed towards a more profitable and a more comfortable so­ ciety. Cabins gave way to sturdy houses. Cultivated fields and green pastures appeared where nature's uncontrolled vegeta­ tion had dominated the landscape. More prosperous farmers COUNTRY FOLKS 5 increased their possessions until they had tens of thousands of dollars invested in broad acres, slaves, blooded stock, and farm machinery. In the Bluegrass no man was considered a well-to-do farmer unless he owned at least five hundred acres of good land. 5 Life for the average farmer remained simple. Even the more sucessful yeoman lived in plain if not disreputable houses, and an old, dirty petticoat stuck in a broken window did not neces­ sarily indicate poverty. Superstitions continued to play a dom­ inant role as they had in colonial days. Belief in the ground hog story was widespread. Many farmers watched for the light and dark of the moon and planted potatoes accordingly. Every cross­ road tavern was "haunted," and it was not at all unusual for a hired man to race with a leering ghost in the back pasture just after sundown. Some farmers continued to use equipment of frontier vintage, while others adopted more modem tools and machinery. Every farmer's wife had an ash-hopper filled with wood ashes, which, when watered, dripped lye for homemade soap. A wooden bucket, a wash pan, a slop jar, and a backhouse took care of the average farmer's physical needs. The wealthy planter possessed more elaborate toilet accessories but even he was restricted by the primitive status of sanitary engineering. It was customary for the yeoman farmer and the wealthy landlord to be as self-sufficient as possible. Many a farmer was his own tanner, wheelwright, and blacksmith. Even as late as 1860 the spinning wheel was turning in rural homesteads. Grain, threshed and cleaned with flails and homemade blowers, was hauled to the nearest mill where it was slowly converted into flour or cornmeal. Farm produce was hauled in primitive ground sleds and truck wagons. The latter had solid wooden wheels (discs sawed from a hardwood log) and was usually drawn by a pair of oxen. Homemade soap was used for axle grease. Better constructed and more efficient wagons were used in more ad­ vanced regions. Some rural produce was transported on local streams and rivers. Then, too, regularly scheduled freight wag­ ons connected farms with the nearest shipping points. Many Kentucky farmers opposed the coming of the railroads on the basis that their cattle and horses would be either scared to death or run down by the cars. However, the rural press and the farm 6 ANTE-BELLUM KENTUCKY organizations saw in the iron horse the solution to their long haul transportation problems. 6 Although many farmers never achieved financial indepen­ dence and some were forced to the wall by droughts, floods, pests, and their creditors, tilling the soil never lost its appeal in ante-bell um Kentucky. 7 As long as he had his land, the f anner was able to provide his family with substantial food. Hickory­ cured ham and bacon, a variety of fruits and vegetables, fresh fish, wild turkey and quail were usually available. The house wife-or the Negro mammy-learned to make the most of what she had. Throughout the period cooking was done at great, yawning fireplaces that would hold a back log as big as a full­ grown man. Here at these great, sooty chimneys meals were cooked in iron kettles hanging on blackened cranes, on spits that held large cuts of juice-dripping meat, and in three-legged ovens nearly buried with hot ashes. It must have been a cheerful sight that greeted the farmer returning to his kitchen after laboring in the fields. At such a moment, with the glow of the fire on his weathered face, with his nostrils quivering with the odors of sizzling meat and oozing yams, all his cares must have slipped from his shoulders leaving him lighthearted and thankful to be alive. 8 The farmer's wife developed recipes that called for ingredi­ ents in amounts that would stagger the modem housewife. Twelve eggs for a small cake, and a quart of pure cream for a pudding was considered commonplace. Homemade sausage, simple but delicious, was one of the most popular foods. Here is a recipe of the 184o's: thirty pounds of chopped pork was seasoned with eight ounces of fine salt, two and one half ounces of pepper, two tea cups full of sage, and one and one half cups of sweet marjoram. The meat was then passed through a fine siev~. Thyme and summer savory could be substituted for the mar1oram. Pickled beef was prepared in the following manner: pieces of fresh corn fed beef, weighing in all 150 pounds, were rubbed with fine salt and packed in a sweet cask. Weights were put on and the pickle added. The pickle was made as follows: four gal­ lons of soft water, six pounds of clean coarse salt, two ounces of the best salt peter, one and one half pounds of brown sugar, or COUNTRY FOLKS 7 one pint of molasses. The pickle was brought to a boil in an iron pot and when cold it was poured over the beef. Gingerbread loaf was popular with everybody. A typical recipe called for four tea cups of flour, two cups of molasses, half a cup of butter, two cups of buttermilk, one cup of thick cream, four eggs, a tablespoonful of ginger, and the same of saleratus. All the ingredients were mixed together with the ex­ ception of the buttermilk. The latter was saved as a dissolving agent for the saleratus. When the saleratus had dissolved in the buttermilk these ingredients were added to the mixture and baked. If a farmer were so fortunate as to have his own fruit trees, his meals were brightened occasionally by a mug of warm apple­ jack or peach brandy. Liquors of all types, domestic and im­ ported, were to be found on the sideboard in the home of the well-to-do planter. House furnishings varied from the crude, homemade stools and tables of the poorest farmer to the elegant period pieces and grand pianos of the rich stock breeders and Bluegrass farm­ ers. The total value of the furniture in some farm houses was under fifty dollars while the furnishings in the mansions would bring thousands even at auction.9 The beautiful highboys, low­ boys, china closets, and sugar chests, prized today as antiques, were made by rural craftsmen for the wealthy slave owners. Only the best of woods were used-oak, walnut, wild cherry­ and the furniture was made with such skill that it outlived sev­ eral generations. The rich folks had oil paintings and statuary, finely wrought silverware and china, glass, porcelain, and pottery of the best domestic and foreign makes. Much of the silverware and pot­ tery was produced by Kentucky artisans. Until mid-century pewter utensils were included in standard household equipment. For home canning glass fruit jars were available by the 184o's. A Louisville company manufactured jars in four attractive col­ ors, amethyst, olive green, light amber, and medium blue.10 The dress of the country people varied with family wealth and with proximity to the fashionable towns. Homespun, as already indicated, was used by both men and women in the more remote sections until late in the ante-bellum period, al- 8 ANTE-BELLUM KENTUCKY though New England peddlers brought "store clothes" as well as nutmegs to the outlying districts. The fashionable country gentleman dressed in the same styles as did his city cousin. About 18 50, although there were many individual variations and eccentricities, his wardrobe included tight fitting trousers, broad­ cloth or sack coat (probably both) stiff and soft shirts, flowing ties, and a variety of waistcoats. High boots were not only fashionable but serviceable. Tall stiff hats were customary but a soft, low-crowned hat was coming into favor. In 18 2 5, fashionable ladies wore long, short-waisted dresses with low, square-cut necklines. By 18 50 the famous hooped skirts dominated the scene. Dress material for these billowing wonders included heavy silks, light silks, lawns, velvets, cottons, tulle, crepe, linens, and cassimere. Decorations consisted of laces, silk fringe, ribbons of various colors, beads, and artificial flowers. White silk hose, patentleather shoes, kid gloves or black silk mitts, and mole skin hats were popular. Linen handkerchiefs, butterfly combs, fans, and fancy purses were accessories. To complete her toilet, the well-groomed lady sprinkled cologne on her handkerchief and on her hair .11 The most encouraging feature of Kentucky rural life in the ante-bellum period was the desire on the part of the better edu­ cated farmers to organize clubs and associations to promote scientific farming and stock breeding and to improve the social relations of the rural population. The first Kentucky agricul­ tural society grew out of a cattle show held near Lexington in 1816. Bulls, cows, and sheep were exhibited at this fair. Silver cups (valued at twelve dollars each) were distributed as prizes. A large crowd attended and the event was so successful that a more pretentious fair was arranged for the same place in 1817. Farmers and stock breeders from miles around came to the sec­ ond fair. It was at this exhibit that a group of enterprising men decided to organize an agricultural association. The result was The First Kentucky State Agricultural Society with Isaac Shel­ by as president. For several years fairs were promoted by this organization and then it dissolved. It seems evident that the So­ ciety was not intended for the average dirt farmer but instead was dominated by wealthy Bluegrass stock breeders. However, it represented the birth of an idea and during the next decade COUNTRY FOLKS 9 county agricultural and fair associations appeared throughout central and northern Kentucky.12 The county societies and an association for the improvement of stock breeding ( organized in 182 6) laid the ground work for a more permanent state organization. In February, 1838, delegates from thirty counties met in Frankfort and created The Second State Agricultural Society of Kentucky. The new so­ ciety was more democratic and more representative of the farmers than was the original organization. The constitution made provision for the collection and dissemination of agricul­ tural and statistical infonnation for the benefit of the entire state. The educational program included public fairs, prize essay contests, encouragement to inventors of farm machinery, in­ struction on the subject of stock breeding, and the general laws of nature. Members of the Society brought pressure on state legislators in an attempt to secure an annual appropriation for the Society and for a state agricultural college. A few politicians were impressed by this progressive idea but the legislature as a whole was disinterested. In 1841, discouraged by the short­ sighted policy of the state government, the Second State Agri­ cultural Society dissolved.13 Although shon lived, the Society made contributions too valuable to be easily forgotten, and the principles of organization and cooperation were kept alive in the local societies, which, in some instances, combined into tri-county confederations. In 1856, the local clubs were rewarded for their continued activ­ ities. In that year the legislature reversed its earlier policy and appropriated $5 ,ooo to encourage the re-establishment of the state association. Accordingly, the Third Kentucky State Agri­ cultural Society came into existence and its future appeared bright. However, in 1858, the legislature withdrew all financial support from the Society, and the burden of agricultural educa­ tion a?-d publicity was thrown back once more on the county orgamzattons. During its brief life the Third Kentucky State Agricultural Society encouraged a thorough study of all farm problems and also established a special library in Frankfort to assist both farm­ ers and legislators. The library subscribed to agricultural papers and periodicals, to the transactions of agricultural societies, and IO ANTE-BELLUM KENTUCKY to railroad and patent office reports. In addition, the Society promoted exhibitions, fairs, and stock shows that attracted farmers not only from Kentucky, but also from neighboring states. The fair at Paris in October, 1856, has been called Ken­ tucky's first state fair. The number in attendance was estimated at between 15,000 and 20,000 men, women, and children. A large hall was beautifully decorated for the occasion with flow­ ers and evergreens. Arranged against this picturesque back­ ground were the exhibits of fruits, vegetables, needlework, cab­ inet work, silverware, and specimens of the printer's art and iron work. A three-dollar prize was offered for the best baby diaper; the best patch work quilt brought twenty-five dollars.14 Fair officials sponsored a special fine arts department, and prizes were offered for oils, water colors, daguerreotypes, and drawings in crayon, pencil, and India ink. Architects were not overlooked. Prizes were awarded for the best designs for coun­ try residences, barns, poultry houses, smoke and ice houses, milk sheds, and piggeries. Finally, premiums were offered for essays on stock breeding, the cultivation of fruit trees, the mechanics of agriculture, education for the farmer, and the science of soils. The big hall at the fair, in addition to serving as an exhibition saloon, was used for lectures, theatricals, and dances. Although the state organization had a precarious existence, the majority of the county associations exhibited considerable energy, especially in the decade of the fifties. The annual county fair developed into an important and colorful autumn festival. The more prosperous county societies purchased large plots of land which were transformed into permanent fair grounds. Stalls and sheds were erected for the stock, and cottages were con­ structed for the accommodation of women and children. Re­ freshment booths were not overlooked. A large amphitheater or entertainment hall was thought a necessity. Harrison County farmers built an amphitheater in Cynthiana that seated 5,ooo people and offered shelter for at least 7,ooo. 15 The Kentucky Agricultural and Mechanical Association of Jefferson County owned a fifty-two acre· exhibition park near Louisville that con­ tained two hundred stalls for cattle and horses and an amphi­ theater eight hundred and ten feet in circumference. The value of the buildings was estimated at $30,000. Other fairs were COUNTRY FOLKS II housed in similar buildings with differences, of course, in size and elaborateness. Membership fees and by-laws of the agricultural societies varied from county to county. In Bourbon County a farmer paid two dollars to become a member of the local organization and he was obliged to pay his dues at least ten days before the an­ nual fair if he wished to enjoy the privilege of exhibiting stock or farm produce. By paying $33.33 a man became a stockholder in the association. Non-members were allowed to exhibit at the fair provided they paid a registration fee of five dollars. To gain admittance to the fair grounds a pedestrian paid twenty­ five cents. A man on horseback paid thirty-five cents. The fee for a double buggy was seventy-five cents, but a single buggy could pass the gates for fifty cents. Carriages and barouches were admitted at the rate of one dollar each. An omnibus driver paid from two dollars to five dollars according to the size of his ve­ hicle.16 Everything that grew in the fields and gardens and every­ thing made in the home, in the smoke house, and in the factori~ was to be found at the county fair: sheep, dried beef, butter, artificial flowers, candles, hams, seed drills, chewing tobacco, beds, carriages, fruits, cows cultivators, horses, and many other iten;is too numerous to mention. But by mid-century the fair had become more than an exhibition of blooded stock, the latest in­ ventions, and super-cabbages. It had become socialized, it was more of a play ground, a gala festival for all to enjoy. There was lemonade and candy and gingerbread and laughter. There was money swiftly changing hands as the favorite horses won or lost. The old quack doctor sold his fake medicine to unsuspecting rheumatics and dyspeptics. The wives and daughters of the wealthy farmers were there dressed in all their finery, swinging their huge hoop skirts, walking over the grounds, sitting in the stands, looking beautiful, and waiting patiently for the cool of the evening when there would be dancing in the pavilion and love-making in a grove of trees close by. The plain, dirt farmers with their families were there, too, dressed more simply, but in their Sunday best, and detennined to make the most of the holiday. Mothers enjoyed the domestic 12 ANTE-BELLUM KENTUCKY arts ,exhibits and the picnic dinners while the daughters danced and blushed at the town boys who flirted boldly. By 1 860 local agricultural societies and the fairs which they sponsored were well-established in Kentucky. Fairs were in­ spiring and educational. They possessed a definite social value since they brought together in close quarters men and women who had mutual interests. The fellowship of the amphitheater and the stock stalls tended to break down religious and political bigotry. It caused the farmers to realize that they were members of a great brotherhood, an organization that had one common passion: love of the soil. Then, too, the exhibits and prizes en­ gendered a healthy spirit of rivalry and competition that was carried back to the farm where it acted as a stimulant through­ out the year. Finally, the fairs were important because they were typical of the American scene. They belonged to the people. Country folk found amusement, relaxation, and happiness in husking bees, quilting parties, log rollings, question games, letter writing, barbecues, dances and in various types of sporting events including shooting matches, spitting contests, cock fights, bear baiting, gander pulling, fishing, hunting, and horse racing. Country children participated in some of these sports and so­ cial pastimes, but they found greater joy in the old swimming hole, in hay rides, in riding the sled to the wood chopping or in a visit to the old grist mill. Then there were ponies or old horses to ride and stray cows to find. Kittens, dogs, goats, and tamed squirrels with fancy collars made interesting pets. Near Frankfort children clothed only in their nightgowns went wad­ ing in the river on warm Saturday nights. In the same neigh­ borhood and elsewhere children found great sport sitting on gate posts and fences and hailing the people who passed on their way to and from town. Sometimes they were treated wi~h ginger cakes or peppermint candy that some father was taking home to his own family and sometimes the travelers stopped long enough to tell them stories about fairies and elfs and hobgoblins.17 Young and old alike (provided they had sufficient education) found amusement in letter writing. With younger sisters and brothers or Negro servants to act as mail carriers it was more fashionable to write one's thoughts to the friend or sweetheart across the road or over the hill than to make a personal appear- COUNTRY FOLKS 13 ance. The letters and notes from the belles and beaux, done up in lacy envelopes, were written in prose and poetry with a liberal sprinkling of quotations from the classics. Sometimes they were very dull, or appear so to the modern reader, but occasionally they sparkled "'-irh well-turned phrases direct from the heart. One young man, alone in his room on a winter night, looked through his darkened window as he wrote to his distant fiancee and found comfort in the thought that night had "thrown her sable curtains around us and pinned them with diamond stars. "18 Young and old alike, regardless of their education, enjoyed dancing. Religious scruple was the only obstacle here, but many persons proved that they could dance a fancy step on Saturday night and still be good Christians on Sunday morning. The aris­ tocrat in the big house generally preferred the waltz and the polka but the common people made merry with the break­ down. The Virginia Reel was the propeny of all classes. The breakdown was known by various names including hoe-down, square dance, country dance and other names of local origin. There were two types of breakdowns, those with words to be sung and those without. The music was played on a fiddle or banjo or both. In most cases, it is impossible to state when and where a particular dance originated. One exception is "Old Man Garrison" which originated in western Kentucky. It is a lusty ballad breakdown that tells a story of stolen goober-peas at Brandon's Mill. The chief characters are old man Garrison and his son Bill. Like most of the ballad breakdowns, the story is foolish and disconnected, but just the thing to put the dancers in the proper mood.19 The breakdowns were democratic and close to the hearts of the rural population. They smelled of the soil and the leaf mold in the wood lot. They reflected the spirit of rugged America and of Kentucky hospitality. Even the old folks got out on the floor and danced with surprising agility to the lively tunes that screamed and screeched beneath the fiddler's bow. The fun was for all, from children to grandparents. A typical country dance lasted throughout the night and hot cider, whiskey toddy, and other refreshments were usually supplied in liberal quantities to reinforce the physical stamina of the merry-makers. While the lively music of the breakdown was out of place ANTE-BELLUM KENTUCKY at the formal ball, it ,vas popular in the homes of the more den1- ocratic planters where dancing was the favorite evening amuse­ ment of the immediate family. i\!lusic \Vas usually furnished by one of the Negro servants or perhaps a breakdown expert was borrowed from a neighboring farm. Old Uncle Jack, a slave on the Oxmoor place near Louisville, was so popular that he was loaned regularly to the neighbors. He played "with his hands, his head, his feet, his whole body."20 The old darky loved rhy­ thm and he appreciated the attention that he received. The more he was praised the more energy he put into his playing. Music poured from his fingers, from his feet, from his soul, and he threw into the dance a spirit of fun, enthusiasm, and wild abandon. It was a common practice to include dancing on barbecue programs but food, toasts, and games of skill were more popular at these outdoor events. In the early days, a barbecue feast was preceeded by cock fights, shooting matches, or bear baiting. The latter called for one lively bear and a pack of aggressive dogs. The bear was usually in a pen and five or six dogs were admitted to fight the bear for a half-hour period. After thirty minutes the first group of dogs was withdrawn and fresh dogs entered the contest. This continued until the bear was too fa­ tigued to fight. After the bear baiting the spectators were served liberal portions of barbecued bear. 21 Hunting was the most popular outdoor sport and was re­ served for no partic11:lar class. The aristocrat had better equip­ ment and in some instances he possessed better dogs, but no one enjoyed the sport more than the average farmer. In the early decades of the century hunting was as much a necessity as it was a sport. There was not only the need of supplying the family with fresh meat but it was essential to destroy the packs of wolves and the roving wild cats that preyed on the stock and even endangered human lives. Squirrels were so numerous that they were classified as pests, and teams of hunters were organized to destroy as many as possible. It was not uncommon for a large hunting party to kill thousands of the little animals in a single day.22 Crows and woodpeckers were hunted in the same manner. One expedition in Bourbon County killed 19,505 woodpeck­ ers.23 COUNTRY FOLKS Deer \Vere hunted with and without hounds, but the true sportsman preferred to make his kill without the aid of a canine companion. Guns and hunting apparel varied. The typical Ken­ tucky deer hunter of the r 84o's carried a rifle forty-two inches long, t\velve pounds in ,veight, ,vith a flint or percussion lock, \valnut stock, and iron n1ountings. A hunter's clothes consisted of a brown worsted cap and a fustian roundabout with single breast and standing collar. His trousers were of the same ma­ terial "buttoning for convenience on a cold day, down in front. "24 High waterproof boots, and a waterproof pouch for bullets and powder \Vere necessities. A sharp knife and a small ton1ahawk completed the equipment. Fox hunting was an important sport in Virginia and it was natural that its popularity should continue in Kentucky which was in so many respects the daughter of the Old Dominion. It was fox hunting that brought the hound dog into history and Virginians and Kentuckians gave as much attention to their fox hounds as they did to their thoroughbred horses. Hounds were introduced into Kentucky in frontier days and from that time to the present Kentucky hounds have been known for their trail­ ing ability and power of endurance. The famous Walker hound was a strain developed in the kennels of John vV. Walker of Madison County. Walker received his first pack from his uncle, William Williams, who had used the dogs exclusively for deer. Walker and his neighbor, General G. W. Maupin, used the hounds on gray fox until the early fifties when the red fox ap­ peared in Kentucky. The red fox was an exceedingly clever animal, too smart, as a matter of fact, for the early Walker and Maupin hounds, so the two neighbors began to experiment with cross breeding. Dogs were imported from the eastern states without success. English hounds were secured and crossed with the Walker hounds and some improvement was noted. Finally the desired results were obtained by the use of a hound named Lead from the neighborhood of Cumberland Gap. This dog was crossed with all the Walker and Maupin bitches and for the next fifty years the best Walker hounds were the descendents of Lead. Second only to the Walker hound was the Trigg strain, de­ veloped by Colonel H. C. Trigg. His original pack was in the ANTE-BELLUM KENTUCKY field in 1845. The Trigg dog was described as "old time, long­ eared, rat-tail, deep-toned, black and tan, Southern hound."~J About 1865, Trigg crossed his dogs \Vith Walker-Maupin blood and produced an improved breed. Horse racing \Vas as natural to Kentucky as bluegrass. Early settlers were quick to realize the potential value of the lush meadows, underlaid with bone-building limestone, as a horse breeding area. Many of the pioneers came from Virginia where the love of good horse flesh was inherited and so it was not strange that Kentucky farmers turned their attention to breeding thoroughbred racers, trotters, and saddle horses even before they had conquered the wilderness and driven off the last hostile In­ dian. As early as 1787 racing news began to appear in the Ken­ tucky Gazette and from that date to the present time the race track has been an important feature of Kentucky sporting events. In the ante-bellum period seasonal tracks were operated in Lexington, Louisville, Crab Orchard, Winchester, and other towns and villages. Amateur races of all types were run almost anywhere, anytime. One of the most amusing private events was a cross country race between a mule named Jenny and a pony called Spunky. All that was needed, it seemed, to set up a race between a plow horse and an ox was a well worded, vig­ orously spoken challenge. 26 The most famous horse foaled on a Kentucky farm before 1 860 was the racer Lexington. He began his racing career as a three year old in 1853 and after he broke the four mile record his fame spread rapidly throughout the country. His greatest rival was his own half brother Lecompte, who took two four­ mile heats from Lexington in New Orleans in 1854. However, Lexington's owner had so much faith in his horse that he issued a challenge to run Lexington against Lecompte's time of 7.26. The challenge was accepted and the race took place at the Me­ tarie Course in New Orleans on April 2, 1855. Lexington won a clean cut victory and lowered the time to 7. 1 9 ~/4 . The final race between these two great horses took place on April 24, 1855. The event was the New Orleans Jockey Club Purse of $ 1 ooo and Lexington was the favorite at $ r oo to $80. Both animals were in fine condition and as they were brought up to the starting line a hush fell over the large crowd of racing COUNTRY FOLKS enthusiasts. A few last minute instructions \Vere given to the jockeys and then at the tap of the drum the two steeds leaped forward. "\Vith bound on bound, as if life were staked on every spring, they flew up the quarter stretch, Lexington at the turn drawing his nose a shado\v in advance, but when they reached the half-mile post ... both were exactly side by side.":?7 It was a thrilling race! Gradually Lexington drew ahead, first by a nose, then by a head, and then with a burst of speed he dashed down the home stretch. Faster and faster he ran and the crowd roared its appreciation. At the finish post Lexington seemed to be running away with his rider, leaving his competitor several lengths behind. The time was 7. 2 3 ¾ \vhich was unprecedented in a regularly scheduled match. Lexington was retired in 185 6 and according to the experts he was the undisputed champion of his day. In retirement he was used for breeding purposes and many famous racers issued from the mares which he covered. The country gentlemen ( and their city cousins) found an­ other type of amusement and relaxation at the Kentucky water­ ing places. During the summer and early autumn months rich planters sought relief from the heat and perhaps from boredom at the fashionable springs for which Kentucky was famous. The most popular resorts were Graham Springs at Harrodsburg, Crab Orchard Springs in Lincoln County, Grayson Springs in Grayson County, Drennon Springs in Henry County, Blue Lick Springs in Nicholas County, Olympian Springs in Bath County, and Paroquet Springs in Bullitt County. Several of these springs were commercialized at an early date. Travelers noticed the development of Blue Licks as early as 1807. The Licks, with their bluish water, had been known to the earliest pioneers as a favorite drinking place for animals and as the frontier retreated "that which was once the watering place of numerous herds of ,vild beasts became the resort of civilized man."28 Olympian Springs, known as i\1lud Lick to the pioneers, was described in 18 18 as "a much admired watering place" where all "genteel visitors" were assured the most comfortable accom­ modations. 29 During the thirties, forties, and fifties all the springs were developed to satisfy the growing needs of the visiting planters from the cotton kingdom as well as Kentucky patrons 18 ANTE-BELLUM KENTUCKY and visitors from the North. Newspaper advertisements together with the learned reports and essays of chemists and physicians added to the popularity of the resorts. Analyses by such scien­ tists as Daniel Drake, Lunsford P. Yandell, and Robert Peter gave the professional seal of approval to the true medicinal value of the waters and at the same time exposed the false claims and the quackery that had been associated with the springs. 30 By mid-century the springs were primarily resorts, but a few invalids continued to seek improved health by drinking and bathing in the mineral water that sometimes smelled like "the washings of a gun barrel."31 However, the bonafide invalid was really out of place. The gaiety, the laughter, the drinking, the gambling, and the ardent love making at the watering places was intended for red-blooded men and women and not for invalids and convalescents. The romantic atmosphere of the resorts, created by wooded hills, glistening streams, velvet lawns, and secluded walks became as famous as the springs themselves and young swains made yearly pilgrimages with only one purpose in mind: to capture as many feminine hearts as possible. Habitually . the wealthy vacationists took their household slaves with them and with the servant problem taken care of in this manner the resorts were able to accommodate several hun­ dred guests at a time. In addition to the main boarding house, well-furnished cottages were available by the week, the month, or by the season. The food served in the main dining room satis­ fied the heartiest and the most fastidious appetites. During the day the guests were entertained with hunting parties, bathing parties, bowling, cards, billiards, and music. Those gentlemen who did not wish to hunt, or ride, or play cards found agreeable companionship in the well stocked bar room. But evening life was the most glamorous. It was then that the beautifully dressed belles and the handsome beaux danced in the tastefully decorated ball room or sought the enchantment of the walks that circled aimlessly through the woods. Here indeed, for a brief time and in an artificial setting, the will'-o' - the-wisp called the romance of the Old South actually became a vivid reality. Modern research has dispelled many of the traditions and romantic interpretations of life in the Old South, but the popular COUNTRY FOLKS conception of southern hospitality has more than an imaginary foundation. In Kentucky, hospitality was never a myth although there "\Vere times ,vhen it was not as genuine as it appeared. In any case, the presence of the Negro servants increased the natural tendency on the part of the people to be hospitable. Hospitality was often a matter of necessity in the thinly popu­ lated areas, but the slave holder was especially hospitable be­ cause it was easy for him to be so. Strangers were never a burden in a home where all the extra work was absorbed automatically by the slaves. \Vith a clap of the hands the Negro brought food, drinks, dry boots, or whatever the ,veary stranger desired. Other servants prepared the guest chamber, cared for the traveler's horses, and even provided him with entertainment. The master of the house had very little to do except to be pleasant. The genuine spirit of hospitality was promoted by the desire for jolly companionship and news from the outside world, but frequently the leisurely, luxuriant method of entertainment would have been impossible without numerous servants anxious to please "Ole Marster." Harriet l\!Iartineau experienced this type of Kentucky hospitality. Visiting a wealthy planter she declared that the days were passed in great luxury and some of the hottest of them in complete idleness. Food was abundant. There was tender meat, fresh vegetables, claret and champagne, not to mention the daily "piles of strawberries and towers of ice cream. "32 In the background of this extravagant scene were the Negro servants and laborers, who, even on the hottest days provided the white folks with delicacies, cooling drinks, and nourishing food. It should be noted that such luxury was not repeated on every Kentucky estate. Oxmoor, near Louisville, was probably one of the most efficiently operated plantations in the state and while the members of the household lived an abundant life there was no tinsel. Everyone did his share of the work but because of the prosperity that came from a well-managed farm every­ one had time for relaxation, for games, music, and good fellow­ ship. And always in the background were the Negro servants quietly attending to their duties or perhaps singing at their work. The slaves offered entertainment for their white folks on many occasions. Nothing was more impressive than the evening 20 ANTE-BELLUM KENTUCKY songs of the laborers as they slo\vly came in from the hemp field or the tobacco patch and nothing was more stimulating than the lively songs of the darkies at a corn shucking:

Ole Dari Tucker he got drunk, Fell in de fiah an' kicked up a chunk, A red-hot coal got in his shoe, An' oh! Lawd a-mussy, how de ashes flu. 33

The shucking bee became an institution. After the date had been set Negroes from miles around were invited to take part in the event and the white people came too, either to watch, or to engage in some of the festivities. For the children it was a day of carnival; white children and black running, playing, and getting into mischief. There was a great show of competi­ tion among the Negro cooks and eating the elaborate supper that they prepared was the climax of the day.34 In some respects the Negroes added beauty to the lives of their white overlords. The old tradition concerning Negro cabins covered with honeysuckle vines and looking lovely in the moonlight is not based entirely on sentimental halucinations. According to a lady of central Kentucky, the old log cabins on_ the plantation were "embowered in wild climbing roses, lilacs, and altheas" while nearby daffodils, hyacinths, and stars-of­ Bethlehem were scattered everywhere. 35 It was normal for the Negroes to appreciate all flowering plants and trees. They brought superstition and hoodoo into their horticulture, but they possessed so1ne of Mother Nature's secrets and some of her most attractive gifts. CHAPTER II

LIFE IN TOWN

N MANY respects urban society resembled rural life in ante­ bellum Kentucky. This ,vas true particularly in the earlier Iyears when the influence of the frontier was still very much in evidence throughout the state. As the decades passed and the frontier retreated, life in the towns tended to quicken and the cultural opportunities increased. Towns offered better educa­ tional opportunities than did country areas, and the larger com­ munities supported the theater, a more socialized church, operas, concerts, minstrels, and the circus. Towns also were the head­ quarters for Masonic and other fraternal activities. They sup­ ported newspapers, periodicals, 1 wholesale and retail stores, inns and coffee shops, and various manufacturing enterprises. The urban centers developed a richer social life, but at the same time they harbored criminals, gamblers, prostitutes, paupers, and bankrupts. Even in mid-century there was much in the typical Kentucky town that was reminiscent of the frontier. Louisville, although a bustling river port with impressive business blocks and elegant homes of the newly-rich, nevertheless allowed the streets and sidewalks to be overrun with fat, grunting pigs. According to one traveler the situation was so serious that the people were prepared for a "pronunciamiento of pigs, they carry their snouts so high already, and seem so bristling \Vith importance. " 2 Other towns, Lexington, Frankfort, Maysville, Paducah, had hog trouble from time to time. In \Vinchester stray hogs were collected by the town sergeant and sold at public auction to the highest bidder. In addition to hogs, Lexington had difficulty with goats and dogs. In 1832, 550 dogs were counted within the city limits while the total human population was only 6,ooo.3 Roaming animals did not constitute the only obstruction in city streets. Town folks were careless about garbage disposal with the result that heaps of rubbish and kitchen slops collected 22 ANTE-BELLUM KENTUCKY in the gutters. Dead cats and dogs and shallow privies caused many complaints and the odors from soap factories, tanneries, and slaughter houses prompted official investigations. Gradually laws were passed ( and enforced) regulating the depth of out­ side toilets and forbidding dung and garbage heaps in the streets. Slaughter houses and candle factories were removed from the residential districts and every citizen was urged to keep his yard as clean as possible. In the more populous cities the officers of law and order had plenty of work to do. Vagrancy was one of the most common complaints entered on the records of the police courts. Tramps and hobos regarded the river towns as easy pickings, and police were forced to be on the alert at all hours in order to outwit these crafty beggars. Drunkards were a constant problem. While Kentucky gentlemen carried their liquor with considerable poise, laborers, immigrants, river men, and ladies of ill repute were not gifted with the same admirable trait of self-control. It ,vas a common occurrence for screams, curses, and the sound of breaking glass to interrupt the peaceful slumber of law abiding citizens. On holidays a large amount of liquor was consumed by all classes and a tremendous burden ,vas placed on the police to maintain a semblance of peace and tranquility. 4 On election day, according to Louisville's journalist, George D. Prentice, whisky and apple toddy flowed through the streets of every town and village like Euphrates through ancient Babylon. Cursing and lewd language was not confined to drunkards. The swearing of mighty oaths was regarded as an integral part of the average man's individualism and the profane oaths of the day, while masterpieces of their type, blanched the faces of fem­ inine eavesdroppers and brought down the wrath of pious preachers on the heads of the guilty persons. In this connection the butchers and slaughter-house men of Covington had an un­ savory reputation. They were considered very wicked and they were proud of it. They boasted that no man or group of men could surpass them in the rugged pastime of cursing. 5 The crimes committed in to"\vns included everything from petty larceny to murder. Wives were abused, young women were assaulted, sweethearts were shot, and political enemies were beaten in dark alleys. There were stabbings and attempted LIFE IN TOWN stabbings, robberies and attempted robberies, swindles and at­ tempted swindles. There were counterfeiters, polygamists, fire­ bugs, and horse thieves. Scarcity of anatomical specimens for medical students prompted grave robberies, one of the most unique crimes of the period. In Lexington, the hallowed resting places of the dead were violated so frequently that the city coun­ cil increased the number of night watchmen and levied a fine of $ 1 oo on any person found guilty of trespassing in the ceme­ teries. 6 At the beginning of the period, the town jails were interest­ ing institutions. Sometimes only a thin partition separated the jail from the court room and there were occasions when the court session was disturbed by loud shouts, ribald songs, and even hallelujahs from the prisoners. In addition to the detention jails, the larger towns had ,vork houses for short-term prisoners. County jails were usually located in the urban areas and these institutions housed the more hardened criminals. Of course, per­ sons convicted of major crimes were sent to the state prison at Frankfort. 7 The city officials realized that poverty was one of the funda­ n1ental causes of crime and a real effort was made to teach pauper and orphan children a trade or profession. The usual method was to apprentice the child to a respectable person who had given evidence of possessing business or professional ability. Boys and young men were apprenticed to carpenters, cobblers, confec­ tioners, cabinet makers, tinners, blacksmiths, hatters, and tan­ ners. The daughters of irresponsible parents could be appren­ ticed in the same manner to learn a trade or household manage­ ment. Relief for the poor was a common problem and several to,vns had associations for the relief of the unemployed, de­ serving widows, and invalids. The Odd Fello"\vs and Masons took an active part in this relief program. 8 Several towns, notably Lexington and Louisville, possessed numerous industries which tended to alleviate the unemploy­ ment situation but at the same time attracted many undesirable laborers, including free blacks, who became moral and social problems. Nevertheless, the gains from industry were considered of great importance by the contemporary civic leaders and the ANTE-BELLUM KENTUCKY rough and sometimes morally irresponsible laborers were ac­ cepted by the entrepreneurs as a necessary evil. Before 183 o Lexington was the commercial capital of the state. Among its industries were textile mills, rope walks, grist and paper mills, bag factories, an oilcloth factory, and an umbrella factory. There were numerous artisans and craftsmen such as jewelers, silversmiths, cabinet makers, and gunsmiths. The larger industries were operated at considerable profit and they gave employment to a relatively large group of white, slave, and free black laborers. The industrial activity and the fact that Lexing­ ton was the center of a prosperous agricultural area stimulated trade and the town's retail stores became famous. As early as 1805 it was recorded that the city had "20 handsome and well assorted stores, and for its age, probably does more business than any inland town on the continent. " 9 However, Lexington's position as the commercial emporium of the state faded away with the development of the steam boat and river traffic, and after 1830 Louisville became the most im­ portant manufacturing and trading center. The people of Lex­ ington gained some consolation by asserting that their town would continue to be the center of culture and fashion. As a matter of fact, from 1830 to 1860 the social life in the two cities had much in common, and the smaller towns were junior editions of Lexington and Louisville. The Bluegrass towns possessed an air of graciousness and mellow living that was not as obvious in the river towns, but Paducah was proud of its finishing schools and Maysville, Frankfort, and Bowling Green pointed with pride to their respective genteel traditions. Even before its boom days, Louisville was noted for its social grace and feminine beauty.10 Perhaps society in Louisville was more generalized, more cos­ mopolitan than in any other Kentucky town. It had an important foreign population (mostly Irish and German) and representa­ tives from every section of the United States. Sectional origins were not very important. The Yankee from New England, the planter from the South, the business man from the North, and the watchmaker from Bavaria merged their identities into the common social fabric of a virile and rapidly growing commun­ ity. Distinctions of class, while present, were not offensively LIFE IN TO\VN obYious and social position depended more on achievement than on lineage. To the casual observer, Louisville seemed to lean '-- n1ore to,vard the frivolous than dignified Lexington which had been dorninated so long by the heirs of Virginia aristocracy and the intellectuality of Transylvania University. But the typical citizen of Louisville appreciated gracious living and he ,vas eager to applaud the talented singer or the convincing actor. No city could boast of more courteous, hospitable gentlemen and cer­ tainly Louisville had its share of refined women. The beauty of Kentucky women was a decided asset to the social life of the towns. The city debutante, like her country cousin, made the most of her natural charms by dressing in the latest New Orleans fashion, by using ornamental hair, perfumes, and powders. The most sophisticated painted artificial shadows beneath their eyes, penciled the eyebrows, and caused pale cheeks to glow with bright-colored rouge. Feminine fashions, then as no,v, did not escape criticism. Hoop skirts, which became so popular in mid-century, were looked upon with misgivings by husbands and sweethearts. In­ deed, their attitude can be appreciated when it is recalled that some of the skirts were twelve feet in circumference. A Frank­ fort newspaper reflected the private opinion of many men when it asserted that fashions had orbits as eccentric as comets and that hoop skirts would deform the women.11 Gallantry and social customs prevented the well-bred gentle­ man from making any but the most complimentary remarks about a lady's costume. In this connection the Paducah Weekly An1erican informed its male subscribers that a lady, a lady's cos­ tume and accessories, and a lady's actions must be regarded with reverence by all gentlemen of her acquaintance. "Never use a lady's name in an improper place," concluded this lesson in eti­ quette, "at an improper time, or in mixed company. Never make assertions about her that you think are untrue, or allusions that you feel she herself would blush to hear." Never did the fashionable ladies and gentlemen appear to better advantage than at a fancy ball. Dancing was a popular recreation in all Kentucky towns where the more formal balls ,vere often brilliant affairs. The better hotels had large, well­ equipped rooms for dances of a public nature and the dancing 26 ANTE-BELLUM KENTUCKY schools and boarding houses had smaller accommodations for family or neighborhood parties. The n1ost elaborate series of entenainn1ents ever given in Kentucky before 1860 were the grand balls gjven in honor of Lafayette "\vhen he visited the state in 182 5. Thousands of ex­ cited persons turned out in Louisville to receive the distinguished patriot. Processions were f onned, arches were erected, and groups of young girls strewed flowers before and behind his carriage. Here, as elsewhere, the climax of the celebration was a grand ball attended by the city's social leaders and every one else who could afford a ticket. This was before the hoop-skin era and the ladies wore narro"\v, ankle-length dresses, heelless satin slippers tied to the ankles with narrow ribbon, and fancy headdresses of flowers and feathers. Spangled Lafayette pendants were very popular. The gentleman wore their best white linen trousers, blue broadcloth coats with brass buttons, ruffled shirts, buff waistcoats, calfskin pumps, and white socks.12 In Frankfort, the Lafayette Ball \-Vas held in the Weisiger House on May 14, 1825. The ball room was considered one of the largest in the West and on this occasion it rang with the music of an augmented orchestra. The decorations were elabor­ ate. The side walls were covered completely with crimson drap­ ery "relieved at intervals by gilt laurel wreaths, from which were .suspended festoons of white drapery ornamented with red roses." \Vreaths of evergreens and roses decorated the col­ umns and the brilliantly lighted candelabras. French and Ameri­ can flags, stacked muskets, and appropriate mottos completed the decorations. 13 Lafayette and his pany arrived in Lexington on May 1 5. After a long day of tiresome speeches, poetic eulogies, teas, and even a picnic, the General was escorted in the evening to the Grand Masonic Hall where a ball and supper were given in his honor. About eight hundred ladies and gentlemen, wearing their very best clothes, were in attendance. The supper was delicious. There were a few complaints, however, because Lafayette was seated behind a large castellated cake that hid his face from a portion of the admiring audience.14 After the excitement of Lafayette's visit it was difficult for the young people to return to the ordinary rounds of cotillions, LIFE IN TO\VN 27 dances, church suppers, and ladies bazaars so that every now and then the Masons or the local military company attempted to imitate the entenainments of that memorable i\!Jay in r 8 2 5. Some of the most successful dances were held during fair ,veek, and in Louisville the most glamorous private affairs were the parties arranged for the n1uch-publicized Belle of the Fifties, Sallie Ward. But there were many less spectacular entertain­ ments where "beauty shed its splendid light on crowded rooms and groaning tables" and the music of violins "gave a nervous twitching to the toes and a graceful movement to all the per­ son. "15 It was not unusual for a young buck to appear at a dance with four charming girls and if the ladies were from out of town and unknown so much the better because then mystery as well as fresh beauty were added to the evening's fun. Aside from dancing, the town folks found good fellowship in various social activities. The spirit of hospitality was so preval­ ent that having company was routine business for the average housewife. Cousins, aunts, and uncles from neighboring towns or far distant points thought nothing of spending several weeks or perhaps an entire season in the home of their Kentucky host. From the neighborhood came young men and women to play and sing around the pianaforte or to enjoy a warm drink before the hearth. On those occasions when Kentucky turned her face toward the North and a mantle of snow lay snug and white over garden walls and bluegrass meadows some one would organize a sleighing party. Christmas was always a festive season enjoyed by every mem­ ber of the household from Pompey the groom up. to "Marster" himself. Egg nog, country ham, sweet potatoes, cream cheese, fresh raisins, claret and port wines, sweetbreads, barbecued pork, cakes, jellies, and hon hons were regular items on the holiday menus of the well-to-do, and the fragrant odor of brewing cof­ fee (Mocha, Rio, and rich, brown Java) sifted through the kitchen door almost constantly from Christmas Eve to the dawn of the new year. Dances, parties, suppers, and weddings were crowded into the jolly days in quick succession. fn back yards and along the streets the children, and those who were youth­ ful in spirit, set off noisy firecrackers and hailed passer bys with "a merry Christmas" and "a happy New Year." 16 ANTE-BELLUi\1 KENTUCKY Those who '1Vere so fortunate as to have a fair share of worldly goods did not forget their poor relatives on the other side of town. Charity entertainments, musicals, tableaux, and suppers became more frequent as the mid-winter season approached and the eternal spirit of Christn1as gripped men's hearts. In the Ohio River towns church suppers for charity and for good fellow­ ship were very popular and it seems that the captains of the river packets were always welcome guests. Sometimes the boat­ n1en brought special gifts: a box of spices, a keg of molasses, or a beautifully decorated cake.17 Spring and summer brought seasonal amusements such as ex­ cursions into the country for picnics and barbecues. Rowing and sailing in the cool of the evening were popular sports in the river towns. During the long afternoons the women folk at­ tended teas and garden parties, sipped cool drinks, talked and sewed. In Frankfort there was one house favored above all others by the young ladies. The hostess was an elderly matron noted and admired for her quaint and old-fashioned hospitality. Early in the afternoon her guests began to arrive and after the proper salutations everyone walked in the garden or investigated "The Grotto," the ghost of a child's playhouse that still contained shelves loaded with arrowheads, crystals, and butterfly wings. At the proper time tea was served in the summer house. This was an octagon-shaped pavilion covered with coral, yellow, and nutmeg honeysuckle. The approach from the garden was lined with fine apple trees. This avenue of fruit trees was at­ tractive at all seasons of the year but in blossom time it was a little scene from fairy land.18 There were many amusements, sports, and diversions await­ ing the men who were not handicapped by the companionship of wives or sweethearts. Pistol galleries and gambling tables were popular and ten pin alleys were supported by steady pa­ tronage. Billiard rooms were well patronized and the suburban cock pit was approved by the sport loving poor man as well as by his rich neighbor. A type of football, usually played in the streets, was popular with the more rugged element. In Lexing­ ton, this game became such a nuisance, especially on Sundays and holidays that the city council passed an ordinance declaring LIFE IN TO\VN that "no person shall roll or kick foot-ball in any of the streets or alleys of the city. "19 Taverns and tippling houses were recreational centers for the men, especially on county court day which came regularly once a month. On court day the sleepiest town awakened and pulsated with new and vigorous life. It was a day of renewed friendships and of business opportunity for farmers and town folks alike. The town merchants displayed their best wares and their best whiskey. In some sections of the state tables were set up on the sidewalk in front of the village tavern and here the men gathered to play poker and sip juleps or to take short, po­ tent draughts from a bottle that was passed and repassed with solemn regularity. Not only on court day but on any and every occasion, Ken­ tucky townsmen enjoyed eating in public places. Oyster suppers at the local taverns were always popular and some inns and restaurants, such as Leconte's in Louisville, did a catering busi­ ness and sent full course dinners to club rooms and private houses. 20 The cost of food in the hotels was very low, the aver­ age price for a full course meal being forty cents. On Christmas day, 18 56, a guest at Louisville's Galt House selected his dinner from the following dishes: saddle of venison with currant jel~y; rib of bear with fancy sause; wild turkey with cranberry sauce; stuffed red-head duck; wood duck with hunter's sauce; wild goose with poteine sauce; bridge of buffalo tongue a la Godar; arcade of pheasants with green peas; choice of four soups, two fish, fifteen vegetables, numerous cakes, puddings, nuts, apples, and, as a final touch, charlotte russe with Punchau Rhein. The cost of this meal was fifty cents and there was no cover charge. Lexington hotels offered equally good dining-room service. 21 Although tavern food was usually plentiful and of good qual­ ity only the larger establishments had good sleeping accommo­ dations. A single room was an unheard of luxury. Even the best regulated hotels had difficulty with bed bugs and virtually every traveler had unpleasant experiences with the sharp biting "monsters of the under regions" that "laid right hold without any ceremonies. " 22 Taverns were used for political rallies, lectures, mustering, seances, and exhibits. As a matter of fact in the early days they 30 ANTE-BELLUM KENTUCKY ,vere used for everything including organized wrestling bouts and bloody personal fights called "plugmusses. " 23 The first animal show ever brought to Frankfort was bedded down in the main dining room of Love's tavern-that it, all the animals with the exception of the elephant which was accommodated in the courtyard. Some of the early musicals and theatrical per­ formances were staged in hotel dining rooms. Town life was made more colorful and interesting with the advent of the theater. Many of the early settlers came from sea­ board communities that had fostered dramatics. Therefore it was only natural that inhabitants of Kentucky frontier towns exhibited an interest in the Thespian art. In 1 797 what may have been the first dramatic performance in Kentucky was presented by a group of amateurs in the village of Washington in Mason County. There was a crude theater in Lexington as early as 1798. Louisville's first theater came into existence in 1808 at a time when the population of the river town was only a few hundred. This theater was small and poorly equipped but the fact that it existed at all is significant. Frankfort had a well es­ tablished theater in 181 3 where both professionals and amateurs performed, and in the early twenties Paris was advertising the productions of its Thespian Society.24 At the beginning of th e nineteenth century the professional troupers in the West and South led a hard and precarious ex­ istence. It was not unusual for star actors to walk many weary miles over muddy roads in order to keep on appointments in a rustic theater. Equipment was entirely inadequate. Costumes intended for tall men were worn by short men, Caesar was forced to dress as Falstaf, and Lady Macbeth borro,ved Juliet's petticoats and dresses. Scenery was a luxury and sometimes did not exist. Orchestras were few and far between. In 181 7, the Maysville theater boasted a four piece Negro band of two fiddles and two triangles and the audience enjoyed the weird music between acts as much as it did the haphazard performance on the stage. 25 Early Kentucky audiences were unpredictable. The following description of an evening at the theater in Paris is worthy of a complete quotation. The chronicler was Sol Smith, a well­ known actor and manager in the West: LIFE IN TOWN 31 I observed that a countryman entered the theater before the candles were lit, and seated himself on the centre of the front bench; presently as the audience began to congregate, he became surrounded by females, who seated themselves each side of and behind him. He did not turn his eyes to the right nor to the left, but kept them fixed on the performers. When I came on as the Mock Duke I observed him sitting in the manner described, with his face leaning on both his hands. As I seated myself to hear the complaint of Juliana against her husband, he and I were not more than six feet apart, facing each other. He leaned farther forward than usual, straining his eyes to take a still closer view of my features. At this juncture I could not resist the temptation to give my admiring friend a quiet wink, when he jumped up, and, striking his hands together with great force, exclaimed aloud, "I'll be damned if its wax!" The up­ roar this occasioned among the audience caused the gentleman to look around; he seemed to be sensible for the first time where he was; his ludicrous appearance on making this discovery caused a still louder laugh, which presently increased into a real Kentucky yell; and the up­ roar did not subside until the cause of all this mirth had made a retreat. 26

Religious prejudice was one of the greatest obstacles which the early managers and actors had to overcome, although it seems that in a few places, as in Paducah, the theater was or­ ganized before the church.27 In some instances the church won a complete victory. According to one manager there was no place for drama in Georgetown where, he declared, the Metho­ dists had taken possession of all the money and all the hearts of the young folks. The same company of Thespians had to reckon with the pious element in Nicholasville but with more succe~. The town did not have a theater and the only building large enough for a play was the local inn. Unfortunately for the actors the landlord believed that the theater was a wicked institution and at first he was loath to even look upon its representatives. However, after a long argument reinforced with pecuniary promises he agreed to rent his property to the players. During the performance he hid in the wings. With courage and optimism the pioneers of the theater in Kentucky gradually overcame the many obstacles that lay across the tortuous road to success. The leadership of Luke Usher, Sol Smith, N. M. Ludlow, and many others was indispensable in the long struggle, but no man deserves more praise for his pluck and ambition than Samuel Drake, Sr. (1768-1854). With serene confidence Drake took his company of seasoned players into 32 ANTE-BELLUM KENTUCKY this theatrically unknown and untried land and opened in Frank­ fort in 1815. His company included refined Tom Jefferson, (father of the famous Joseph Jefferson), scholarly Frank Blis­ sett, and Frances Ann Denny who, in due time, married one of Samuel's sons and as Mrs. Drake was known as the American Queen of Tragedy. Kentucky audiences exhibited good taste when they accepted Old Sam and his talented troupe, although their method of registering approval, with shrill whistles and Indian yells, was a little undignified. 28 After the initial Frankfort season, Drake's company visited Louisville and Lexington. The Louisville theater was "dark, dingy, and dirty" but the people were "prosperous, gay, and fond of theatrical amusements, "29 and they supported Drake's actors for a ten-week season. The Lexington theater at this time ( 181 6) was a renovated brewery and it was only after consider­ able cleaning, repairing, and painting that Drake consented to use it. The Lexington audience was comparatively quiet and very appreciative. The town took Old Sam to its bosom. When the good housewives discovered that his favorite dish was plum pudding they kept him well supplied with this tasty dessert. As a matter of fact, all the members of Drake's company (es­ pecially the men) were entertained by Lexington citizens. Homes were opened to them and special dinners, teas, and dances were given in their honor. \:Vhen they were not occupied in town the actors rode over the bluegrass, visiting places of in­ terest, flirting with the country girls, and returning in time to serenade the town belles before they retired for the night. The same procedure was followed in Frankfort and other towns. In Frankfort, however, there were certain persons who indicated their disapproval of the actors by throwing chamber slops on them as they passed along the street. Samuel Drake has been called the father of the Kentucky theater and there is considerable justification for this claim. He introduced the first well-trained and complete company of actors and he firmly established the theater in Frankfort, Louis­ ville, and Lexington. He created a genuine interest among the people for drama of the better type. Not only did he please his patrons but he instilled in them a higher standard of taste and judgement. "He will always be seen with great pleasure," com- LIFE IN TO\VN 33 n1ented the editor of the Kentucky Gazette. "Correctness of style, and great definition of character, are always conspicious in his acting. i\s a manager, he has proved by his skill and ability his qualifications for the task confined to him. By persevering industry, and his own ability, he has snatched our theatre from obscurity and gained complete sanction for the establishn1ent. " 30 Similar praise \Vas voiced in other publications. As time went by Kentucky's theaters improved and by the end of the ante-bellum period Louisville in particular ,vas re­ garded by the profession as a good sho,v town. A cavalcade of stage celebrities made their entrances and their exits on the city's stages. There \Vas Booth, who sometimes played badly. There ,vere the gifted actresses Charlotte Cushman and Mrs. Drake. The comedians, Mr. and Mrs. Drew, played to standing-room­ only audiences. Julia Dean, one of the most popular actresses of the fifties, ,vas a Louisville favorite. Miss Dean was not a great actress but she was lovely to look at and her gentle personality made her a favorite in such roles as "Juliet" and "Portia." Another focus of gaiety in Kentucky towns was the music hall. Kentuckians have always enjoyed music, the type appre­ ciated, of course, varying with the locale and with the apprecia­ tive idiosyncrasies of the individual. In the early decades of the period under consideration, the advantages of a musical educa­ tion and the value of musical appreciation were given consider­ able attention by educators and by the press. William Gibbs Hunt in his well-edited Western Revie·w extolled the cultural value of music. He believed that it refined and expanded the mind and that it had the power ''to compose and harmonize the passions, to inspire a sweet serenity, and to diffuse a holy calm. " 31 Some persons, however, did more than listen and applaud­ they created their own music. A study of the copyright records reveals the fact that Kentuckians composed love songs, polkas, waltzes and even more formal creations with an amazing display of sharps, flats, runs, and crescendos. Some of the titles, long buried in the dust of the nineteenth century, are romantic, some are humorous, all are interesting. Here are a few chosen at ran­ dom: 11/.ammoth Cave Waltz, Quail Polka, Thou Hast Sworn at the Alter to Love Me, Katy Mine, Greenwood Cottage Polka, and Three Meals a Day and a Dollar to Spend. 32 34 ANTE-BELLUM KENTUCKY But the most interesting amateur composer who won applause in Kentucky was a foreigner named Anthony Philip Heinrich (1781-1861). Born in Bohemia, Heinrich came to America in search of fame and fortune and appeared in Kentucky in 181 7. He was a self-taught violinist of some skill and he made a good impression on the people of Lexington and Frankfort where he appeared in concerts supported by local amateur talent. The programs that he arranged included violin duets and solos, piano duets, comic songs, romantic selections for glee clubs and se­ lections from Mozart, Haydn, Fiorillo, Viotti, and Giornoirchi. In Lexington, on November 1 2, 18 1 7, Heinrich arranged a diversfied concert, with full orchestra and band, that featured Beethoven's Sinfonia Con 1tlinuetto. According to the music historians, this was the first performance of a Beethoven symph­ ony in the United States.33 Heinrich made many friends in Kentucky including Judge John Speed of Louisville who treated him like a foreign pleni­ potentiary. While living at the home of his wealthy friend he wrote a series of compositions that were published (1820) under the title The Dawning of Music in Kentucky .34 Shortly there­ after he left Kentucky to pursue his career in the East. Heinrich did not write great music. His harmonic sense was limited and his melodies were of the conventional type. His orchestrations showed him at his best and some of his arrange­ ments were daring for the period in which he lived. Through­ out his life he was seeking recognition but he never quite reached the top. Probably his greatest accomplishment was his ability to make and to hold friends and this contributed to his popularity in Kentucky. Between 1 840 and 1860 the music lovers of Kentucky were given many opportunities to hear the best professional artists of the day. The concert by Louis Moreau Gottschalk ( 1829- 1 869) in Louisville in 18 5 3 was a memorable occasion. A con­ tempory critic declared that the great pianist was ."without a doubt the greatest player living-and I consider none but Litz a rival of his. I myself was never so perfectly overwhelmed with the manifestation of genius and talent."35 Louisville gave Gott­ schalk a thrilling ovation but his reception was not as spectacular LIFE IN TOWN 35 as the one that had been prepared for the Barnum-sponsored Jenny Lind several years earlier. Jenny Lind arrived in Louisville on the afternoon of April 6, 1851, coming from Nashville by way of Mammoth Cave where she had stopped for several days to explore the underground passages. The Swedish song bird was met ten miles f ram town by a committee of prominent citizens riding in the best car­ riages available. Four elegant horses, which had been brought out from town for the purpose, were hitched to Miss Lind's coach and she entered Louisville like a fairy princess. Flags and bunting fluttered from the buildings and the streets were lined with a shouting crowd of men, women, and children. Tickets for the concens were sold at auction, a unique method of creating interest and of increasing the profits. The first seat was sold for $ 1 7 5 and many others brought higher figures, the cheapest going at twenty dollars. After the auction, standing room tickets were sold at three dollars, but thousands had to be content to stand in the street in front of Mozart Hall and listen to the voice of "the peerless Jenny" as it came through the doors. There was no doubt about Jenny Lind's conquest of Louis­ ville. She lived up to the highest expectations and according to the press, her listeners were enraptured. "Her singing grows on us without our being able to resist it even if we would," as­ serted the Louisville Weekly Courier. "The charming simplicity of her manners, the entire absence of all striving after effect and the anlessness of every movement at once excited feelings of admiration and love. She has a sweet and winning smile, and the expression of her countenance indicates unerringly the noble­ ness of her soul. We no longer wonder at the hold she has on the affections of the people and why it is she everywhere excites such deep enthusiasms."36 \\1nile Louisville drew the best artists of the concen and opera world, Frankfort, Lexington, and Bowling Green enjoyed lesser favorites such as Gustavus Drechman, Smith's National Opera Troupe, and the Swiss Bell Ringers. The Hem Family which presented vaudeville and popular music, including the most difficult of Jenny Lind's cavatinas, was popular in Lexington. The mistrels and Barnum's circus of animals, giants, and dwarfs ANTE-BELLUM KENTUCKY appeared sooner or later in every town from l\1aysville to Pa­ ducah. There is good reason to believe that black face minstrelsy was born in Kentucky. About 183 o, the actor, Thomas D. Rice, heard a Louisville Negro groom singing a song about "Jim Crow." Rice was fascinated by the strange melody and paid the Negro to sing it over and over until he had learned it. The song, slightly revised and called Jump, Jim Crow, was intro­ duced in a play called The Rifie in which Rice was cast as a Kentucky Negro. The play was weak, but Rice's song was a hit and he sang it before packed houses for several weeks. Later Rice presented the Jim Crow song with several dozen variations and some new songs such as Lubly Phillis or the Fight at Nigger Hill. In 1 8 3 2, he presented his / im Crow at the Bowery Theater in New York and the era of the minstrels began in eamest.37 CHAPTER III COLLEGE HALLS

Y 1830 Kentucky presented a social pattern that was typi­ cal of the new states west of the Appalachian highlands. BAll the characteristics of the frontier remained in the more isolated sections while in certain favored areas, such as the Blue­ grass, refined habits and customs were in evidence and many of the attributes of polite society were prominently exhibited. The theater was patronized, music was growing in popularity, agri­ cultural societies were being promoted, and at least a minority group in town and country had acquired ( or inherited from Virginia ancestors), the ability to entertain graciously. Such a social development would have been impossible without a back­ ground of formal education. It is to the credit of early Kentucky leaders that they emphasized the importance of schools and col­ leges even as they wrested their lands from the wilderness. During the first two decades of its statehood, Kentucky at­ tempted to project a state-controlled system of education that in theory had excellent possibilities. The plan called for an academy in each county. Each academy was granted 6,000 acres of land which was to be sold to furnish endowment. It was the original intention of the state to have the academies supply well­ trained students for a university that was to be at the head of the entire system. The scheme failed partly because 6,000 acres of unimproved land did not supply endowment to run a school indefinitely without additional state assistance and partly because there were numerous private schools that the public preferred to patronize. A number of academies were actually established although only a few survived the first decade of the nineteenth century and even these owed their partial success more to private enterprise than to state sponsorship. The only important result of this elab­ ?rate plan was Transylvania University, an institution that dom­ inated Kentucky education for nearly half a century. ANTE-BELLUM KENTUCKY The establishment of Transylvania as a state university at a time when the cries of wild animals could still be heard on moonlight nights seems almost anachronistic. However, an ex­ amination of the facts, and especially of the Virginia back­ ground, provides a logical explanation for the desire to build an institution of higher learning before a system ·of secondary schools had been organized. Elementary education in colonial America had been conducted on a private basis and had been considered relatively unimportant. The aristocratic class, which sought to control the educational policies of the times, thought in terms of universities and colleges when they though of cul­ ture and education. Common schools or high schools of a public nature were non-existent in the colonies.1 Even in Virginia where Thomas Jefferson was the first to express the idea that universal education was a duty of the state, the aristocratic ele­ ment followed the English tradition and measured education only in terms of college degrees. From this point of view it was quite logical for the College of William and Mary to receive state assistance while no attempt was made to establish elemen­ tary schools for the common people. As many early Kentuck­ ians came f rorn Virginia it was natural for them to agitate for a state university and at the same time to overlook the need for preparatory schools sponsored by the same authority. The early collegiate-minded Kentuckians "attempted to build their educa­ tion structure, as their fathers had done, by laying the ridgepole first." 2 In 1780, the Virginia legislature passed an act placing 8,000 acres of escheated land in the hands of trustees for the purpose of establishing a public school in Kentucky. The trustees held their first meeting in the spring of 178 3 only to discover that several of their number had been killed by the Indians. They realized, too, that the act of 1780 gave them no authority. Con­ sequently, they petitioned the Virginia Legislature for a defini­ tion of their powers. On June 24, 1783, under the leadership of Caleb Wallace ( a representative from the district of Ken­ tucky), an act was passed by the Virginia assembly that defined the authority of the trustees. This act became the charter of Transylvania Seminary and subsequently, with a few modifica­ tions, of Transylvania University.3 COLLEGE HALLS 39

On February 1, 1785, at or near the home of Reverend David Rice, a few miles from Danville, Transylvania Seminary began its history. There was one teacher ,vhose name was James Nlitchell and whose salary \.Vas one hundred dollars a year. At the end of his first year of teaching he married David Rice's daughter and resigned. Thus the infant Transylvania was left "\\rithout a faculty. There was also a lack of funds and during the next three years the school existed only in the minds and hearts of its sponsors. All attempts to secure endowment in Danville having failed, the trustees moved Transylvania to Lexington in 1789 where it was ,vell received by leading citizens, including the publisher, John Bradford. In 1798, "for many singular advantages" Tran­ sylvania Seminary united with Kentucky Academy which had been established by the Presbyterians at Pisgah in 1795. The consolidated institution was named Transylvania University.4 The first president of the university was the Reverend James Moore, an Episcopalian of liberal and aggressive instincts. U oder his leadership the institution began to prosper and in 1799 it ,vas announced that Transylvania was established "on such a footing that education may be had at it on as extensive a plan and as moderate terms as at any institution of the kind in the Union."5 The extensive plan included courses in French, Latin, Greek, geography, mathematics, astronomy, chemistry, logic, anatomy, therapeutics, and law. An anatomical museum was established to encourage the attendance of medical students. 6 For a fe,v years the university enjoyed the fruits of mediocre success but beginning with 1 801 dissension among the trustees and open rebellion among the students threatened its existence. 7 The disharmony was caused by a clash of religious and political philosophies. The dominent influence in the board was Presby­ terian and conservative, but the majority of the students were the exuberant disciples of Voltaire, Paine, and Jefferson. It was claimed bv., the conservative element that the students were com- pletely lacking in religious principle, and that they were either deists or atheists. The students asserted that their religion was a political philosophy based upon liberty and democracy "which has been the cause of shaking empires and nations to their very center."8 ANTE-BELLUl\1 KENTUCKY Some of these young Republicans, \Vho \Vent out of their way to demonstrate their radical theories, were the sons of liberal members of the board of trustees. Son carried the chip for father and father defended son and somewhere in the smoke of battle stood Jan1es lvloore who was relieved of the Presidency of Transylvania in I 804. His position was filled by a local Pres­ byterian clergyman, James Blythe. For the time being, the con­ servative forces had control of the university. During the next fourteen years, Blythe, as chief executive of the university, regarded himself as the leader of Kentucky Presbyterianism and of Kentucky education. His critical attitude during the \Var of 1812, his denunciation of the political lead­ ership of the state, his attack on the Lexington liberals, and his dogmatic religious pronouncements finally stirred up a whirl­ wind of opposition. This new liberal movement, which counted among its leaders Dr. Joseph Buchanan, Joseph C. Breckin­ ridge, John Crittenden, and Jesse Bledsoe, drove Blythe out of office in March, 18 16. In 1818, a man of wide reputation and liberal views was appointed to the presidency and the institution was now free of all Presbyterian influence. 9 The new president was Horace Holley, a man who was to bring Transylvania to the threshold of greatness. Holley was a New Englander and as pastor of the Unitarian South End Church of Boston had been acclaimed as one of the nation's leading religious liberals.10 It was his broad, catholic at­ titude that attracted the attention of Transylvania's newly ap­ pointed and liberal trustees. They were seeking for the presi­ dency a man who was progressive, rational, and evangelical. Holley's visit to Lexington in May, 1818 convinced them that this Boston minister was the answer to their prayers. Holley was pleased, too. Lexington gave him a cordial re­ ception. Henry Clay and Governor Gabriel Slaughter were among the prominent citizens who greeted him personally. He was wined and dined and entertained at teas and parties. The churches opened wide their doors and invited him to preach. Episcopalians, Baptists, and Methodists greeted him with sin­ cere warmth; the Presbyterians with reserve.12 Holley was pleased with the condition of Transylvania. The school had no organization, no rules, a few books, and only two or three pieces COLLEGE HALLS 41 of apparatus. He could build his university from the bottom without reforming anything or anybody. When he was offered a salary of $ 3,ooo plus the diploma fees he accepted the presi­ dency of the university and immediately made plans to estab­ lish himself and Mrs. Holley in Lexington.13 Under the stimulus of Holley's zeal and flashing personality Transylvania, after a long adolescence, suddenly, like Minerva, blossomed into maturity. The course of studies was improved and definite standards of admission were established. The two­ semester and four-class system was adopted, the physical plant ,vas remodeled and enlarged and over $14,000 was obtained from Lexington citizens and the legislature for the purchase of books and to guarantee salaries for several additional professors. To­ ward the close of his regime, Holley was considering plans for a museum of fine arts and a gymnasium.14 The teaching staff included such men as Constantine Rafinesque, Benjamin W. Dudley, and Daniel Drake. The medical department and the law school enjoyed a period of unusual prosperity. William T. Barry, afterwards Lieutenant Governor of Kentucky and Post­ master General of the United States, was appointed professor of civil law. The chair of common law was occupied by Judge Jesse Bledsoe, whose intellectual brilliance more than balanced his erratic nature. Holley, himself, gave a course of lectures for prospective lawyers. One of Holley's most important contributions to Transylvania was the enrichment of the curriculum to provide a broad liberal arts education. The freshman course included Latin, algebra, geometry, history, and platform speaking. Sophomores con­ tinued with Latin and Greek, trigonometry, navigation, history, and composition. Upperclassmen were given the opportunity to study advanced Latin and Greek, surveying, advanced geom­ etry, history, chemistry, pharmacy, ethics, logic, philosophy, politics, political economy (economics), astronomy, botany, and modem languages. Holley conducted a class in philosophy and he was often present at debates where he acted as moderator. From time to time he conducted an extra-curricular class in theology and biblical criticism.15 Pedagogical techniques included recitations by the students and lectures by the professors. The recitation method was con- 42 ANTE-BELLUM KENTUCKY sidered best for the younger students although lectures were not entirely reserved for the upper classmen. Students in the English composition class selected their own theme topics with the approval of the instructor. The finished compositions were read to the class with the instructor acting as critic. Rafinesque approved of field trips for students on natural history, but Hol­ ley discouraged such a "radical" notion, believing that the class­ room was the proper place for study. However, he was fully aware of the fact that poorly equipped classrooms and laboratories handicapped both teacher and stu­ dent and he left no stone unturned in his search for the best scientific and mechanical apparatus. In 1824 the following equip­ ment was available for undergraduate use: acromatic telescope, microscopes, magic lanterns, mirrors and prisms, kaleidoscope, optical instruments, mathematical instruments, and apparatus for demonstrating mechanical power, a hydrostatic balance, an air pump, an electrical machine, barometers, globes, and magnets.16 Accuracy and self confidence were encouraged among the students by the practice of "declamation." Every Saturday ten students from the upper division were selected to appear in chapel where they demonstrated their knowledge of science, "forensics," literature, and philosophy. Every word, action, and intonation was subjected to immediate criticism. The student who lacked the courage of his convictions was forced off the stage by the good-natured but sincere censureship of the audi­ ence. The weekly chapel declamations were open to the public, and the presence of prominent citizens made these occasions "highly exciting and improving."17 Members of the freshman and sophomore classes declaimed daily before all the students assembled for morning prayer. The Holley administration passed many rules and regulations which were supposed to discipline the students and to provide a certain moral tone to the campus. Students could not leave town after a session started except for the week-end. They were requested not to visit in the dormitory and not to play banjos, violins, or horns during study hours. They were ordered to pro­ vide themselves with suitable vessels for bedroom slops. Anyone who threw water from a college window was liable to receive a severe reprimand. The practice of drawing pictures on the COLLEGE HALLS 43 wall was condemned and college authorities insisted that students refrain from whittling the furniture and carving the woodwork. It was against the rules to exhibit indecent pictures. Students also were cautioned against reading immoral literature, gamb­ ling, lying, and other "gross immoralities." Under this caption came association with Lexington's "lilies of the field" and play­ ing billiards at public houses. Drinking and smoking were pro­ hibited on the campus and no "hallooing, whistling, or jumping" ,vas allowed in the buildings. No student was permitted to leave a burning candle or a hearth fire in his room during his a~sence nor was he allowed to carry fire carelessly "from room to room nor up and down stairs." Students were not permitted to sit on the campus fence and no student could wear his hat in chapel without permission from the officer present. Dirks, swords, and firearms were prohibited, not only in chapel, but in every college building.18 While the undergraduate college showed vigorous activity and the law school made its contribution, it was the medical department that achieved the greatest success during the Holley administration. However, this flourishing condition was not the result of Holley's efforts alone. The celebrated members of the medical staff gave the school its reputation and such men as Dudley, Brown, and Drake had conceived the possibilities of a medical institute several years before Holley's arrival in Lex­ ington. Charles Caldwell, of course, was a Holley appointee, but it was Caldwell's efforts and not Holley's that produced the valuable medical library.19 By 1824 the medical department was fairly well equipped with books and anatomical specimens, but it was not functioning at maximum efficiency because it did not have a building of its own. One professor met his classes at home and other staff members rented an old house which afforded them only im­ perfect accommodations. It was not until 1827 that the first medical building was completed. This structure, which was made possible by the generosity of the people of Lexington, contained an anatomical amphitheater, dissection rooms, lec­ ture rooms, a chemical laboratory, and a library.20 The library was open every day until ten at night. During the winter months it was comfortably warmed and lighted. The 44 ANTE-BELLUM KENTUCKY stacks held about 3,000 volumes "containing all the rare and standard works on medicine and the collateral branches of sci­ ence. " 21 In addition, the library subscribed to the best American and European scientific journals and an attempt was made to secure periodicals from India and Jamaica, but these publica­ tions were scarce and rarely handled by the book agents. 22 By 183 6, the number of volumes in the library had been increased to 4,000 and by 18 50 the total number of books in the combined Transylvania libraries (law, medicine, and academic) was 23 1 2 ,ooo. This represented the largest collection in Kentucky. The anatomical museum was well equipped for the times. In 1824 it contained one hundred and twenty specimens in dry and wet preparations and numerous wax models. Among the latter was a complete human figure that had been purchased in Italy. It was skillfully made and could be taken apart for the pur­ pose of exhibiting the structure and organs of the body. Ad­ ditional specimens, models, and pictures were added to the col­ lection at later dates. 24 Although some of the theories presented were finally recog­ nized as unscientific and dogmatic, the medical school through­ out its history attempted to follow a system founded on the principles of academic freed om. In r 846, one of the Transylvania medical students declared "we are free to take all or any of the avenues to truth and learning ... we are taught to embrace only that which is clearly demonstrable in the science of medicine. " 25 Students were constantly reminded of the qualifications for a physican or surgeon. They were taught that the competent doctor had to know more than text-book material. He must be a student of human nature. He must study, read, write, observe, and experiment. The young doctor was made to realize that the knowledge obtained in medical school was only rudimentary, the foundation on which he might build a career. "You have commenced a pilgrimage which should end only with life," stu­ dents were told by one of the professors, " ... a warfare in which your weapons cannot honorably be laid down while there is ignorance in the world to combat, or human suffering to re­ lieve. "26 By 1 824 the success of "Holley's College" was beginning to be obvious, but at the same time, and even as early as r 8 2 3, op- COLLEGE H ...\LLS 45 posing forces which had been keeping under cover since 181 8, ,vere preparing an offensive that eventually forced Holley's resignation. Behind the outward glamour of Transylvania there ,vere many difficulties, chiefly of a financial nature, that were never to be completely alleviated. The War of 181 2 had brought a period of prosperity to Kentucky, but shortly after the ad­ vent of Holley as President of Transylvania the financial panic that s,vept the nation plunged Kentucky into debt. This situa­ tion not only destroyed part of Transylvania's income but it also gave rise to a feeling of hostility among the debtor class. In addition, there was a tendency for certain people to regard Holley as an overpaid dandy and to look upon the university as an institution for idle aristocrats. In all probability this attitude would have died a natural death had not the conservative Pres­ byterians stepped in and fanned the smoldering coals of resent­ ment into flames of hatred and opposition. Soon an anti-Holley crusade was organized, and the crusaders found unexpected support in Louisville both in the press and among the politicians. Louisville's antagonistic attitude was based on a natural jealously of Lexington and Lexington institutions. The claim was ad­ vanced that certain "evil forces" in Lexington were attempting to check the commercial development of the river town. The Presbyterians disliked the same "evil forces," including the Kentucky Gazette, because they had attempted to discredit the newly created Presbyterian institution at Danville, called Centre College.27 In 1824 the Presbyterians were employing every device they could think of to destroy Holley and his supporters. In their pulpits they denounced him as an infidel. In newspapers, peri­ odicals, and pamphlets they charged him with immorality and described him as a coarse and dangerous man. They accused him of drinking and gambling and questioned his patronage of the theater. The members of the board of trustees did not escape these vituperative bombshells. They were described as very wicked men who had embezzled funds belonging to the univer­ sity. The charges were never proved but they added to the gen­ eral confusion. 28 Holley stood up well under this abuse until 1826. In that year the opposition won over Governor Joseph Desha to their side. ANTE-BELLUM KENTUCKY

In his annual n1essage of 182 6 the Governor n1ade some most uncon1plimentary remarks about Transylvania. This was the be­ ginning of the end for Holley, and on lvlarch 24, 18 2 7, he re­ signed. He had dreamed of building an Oxford in the wilder­ ness, but the people of the ,vilderness drove him into exile. 29 Holley's resgination ,vas a shock to Transylvania. A number of students left for home imn1ediately, and the attendance during the next session, especially in the undergraduate college, de­ creased. Virtually abandoned by the state and with its reputation questioned the immediate future looked dark for the institution. During its subsequent history, the university's reputation was based almost entirely upon the activities of the medical school which was conducted on an independent basis. In 1828, the Transylvania Journal of Medicine and the Associate Sciences ,vas established and during the next f e,v years capable new men were added to the teaching staff. However, in 1837, the medical f acuity disagreed on a proposed plan to desert Lexington for the rapidly growing city of Louisville. This internal contro­ versy, marked by bitterness and harsh accusations, resulted in the resignation or the removal of Ors. Cook, Landell, Short, and Caldwell who were instrumental in founding the Louisville Medical Institute in the same year.30 At the time it was feared that this unpleasant episode would destroy Transylvania's medical school, but the faculty, or what was left of it, was reorganized around Dr. Benjamin W. Dudley and Dr. Robert Peter. Furthermore, the city of Lexington was aroused and its citizens were determined not to be outdone by Louisville. In 1839, the city council appropriated $45,000 for a new medical building, an infirmry, and a library. On July 4, 183 9, the cornerstone of the medical building was laid and in 1 840 the professors of medicine moved into their new quarters. The medical hall contained three large lecture rooms, a large library, a museum, five dissecting rooms, and a private office for each instructor. Fifteen thousand dollars was spent on books, specimens, and apparatus. It was at this time that the medical school purchased "forty-one magnificent pictures, more than two by three feet each, of the most important medicinal plants, drawn from living vegetables in the Jardin des Plantes in Paris by Chazel. " 31 COLLEGE HALLS 47 The developn1ent progran1 at Transylvania ,vas in1pressive, coming as it did in the ,vake of an internal revolt that shook not only the university but the medical profession in the \Vest. The school had made valuable contributions to the entire l\1is­ sissippi Valley and it had a host of friends who wished for its continuation as a prosperous institution. "Although she now has po\verful rivals in the great field which ,vas once all her own," asserted the New Orleans 1Uedical Journal, "still she seems determined never to yield the palm. "32 It appeared that this determination ,vas strengthened by the election of Henry Bas­ com to the presidency of the university in r 842. Between r 839 and 1842 Transylvania University ,vas virtually a municipal institution. The state retained a nominal interest and the medical department maintained its academic independ­ ence, but it was the Lexington City Council that determined the financial policy of the school. The undergraduate division, known as 1'1orrison College, was even more closely supervised by the city government. In r 84 r, it was the influence of the City Council more than any other group that determined "the prop­ erty of the university would be promoted by giving the control of the academical department either to the Presbyterian, Baptist, .or Methodist church. "33 This recommendation caused several resignations on the Board of Trustees but the City Council had its way and in r 842 Morrison College was offered to the Ken­ tucky Conference of the Methodist Epsicopal Church and the prominent Methodist clergyman, Henry Bideleman Bascom, be­ came president. But even during Bascom's administration ( 1842- 1 849) the city officials kept a watchful eye on the college and in certain cases openly interfered.34 Bascom was able to improve the condition of Morrison Col­ lege by paying off a mortgage that had become a burden. He increased the enrollment, endowed certain professorships, and reorganized the curriculum. The buildings ,vere repaired al­ though he had to take the money out of the professor's pockets to pay the contractors and carpenters. Bascom had no authority over the medical and law departments of Transylvania but these schools enjoyed renewed vigor during his presidency.35 There were many indications that Bascom was not happy at Transylvania. In the first place his authority was limited by in- ANTE-BELLUi\1 KENTUCKY fluential "friends of the college" and by stubborn and narrow­ minded trustees who had their fingers in the collegiate pies at the wrong time. Bascom quarreled with members of the Board who ,vished to make changes in the faculty without justifiable reasons. On one occasion he tendered his resignation when the Board insisted that certain professors be removed from the staff. The trustees ignored his resignation, expelled the professors, and then remained silent when Bascom received the condemna­ tion of the public. 36 In addition to this trouble, Bascom, as a Methodist leader, be­ came involved in the slavery controversy that was to split the Methodist church along sectional lines.37 Then, too, there was the question of Transylvania being officially accepted by the Kentucky Conference and the Methodist Episcopal Church South. It was the conviction that the Methodists would never accept the institution as a church college that caused Bascom's resignation in r 849. This time the pleading of the Board fell upon deaf ears. 38 Mid-century found Transylvania University only a shadow of its former self. In desperation the trustees offered the insti­ tution to the Grand Lodge of the Independent Order of Odd Fellows. After giving careful consideration to the future pros­ pects of the university, the Grand Lodge politely refused the offer. Even the Medical School showed definite signs of decay in spite of the fact that such prominent men as Robert Peter were on the staff. Peter made one last effort to save the school by organizing a medical department in Louisville under the aus­ pices of the i\tlasonic University of Kentucky. The new adven­ ture ,vas called the Kentucky School of Medicine and its staff was controlled by the Transylvania doctors who continued to teach in Lexington during the summer.39 However, after con­ troversies with the Louisville Medical Institute and various other difficulties concerning real estate, the Transylvania professors gave up their Louisville connections and returned to Lexington in 1854. Even the most ardent supporters of Transylvania were now very skeptical about the institution's future. "I have no idea that your school will ever again do much," declared one of Robert Peter's friends in 1855.40 These words were prophetic. By 1860 the future of Transylvania appeared very unpromising. COLLEGE Hi\LLS 49 v\7hile Transylvania was loosing prestige, its offspring and rival, Centre College, was gaining in strength and importance. After the Presbyterians lost control of Transylvania's board of directors in 181 8 the church decided to establish a private de­ nominational college in Danville. Accordingly, a group of in­ fluential leaders petitioned the state legislature for the legal priv­ ilege of establishing a Presbyterian institution. On January 2 1, 1819, the first charter of Centre College was signed and sealed. But Centre College did not become an actuality for several years primarily because the Kentucky Synod was dissatisfied with certain stipulations in the initial charter. In particular, the church officials objected to the clause which stated that "no religious doctrines peculiar to any one sect of Christians shall be inculcated by any professor in said college."41 Furthermore, the Presbyterians were vexed to discover that the board of trus­ tees, which included ex-govemer Isaac Shelby, was not ex­ clusively Calvinistic. Their denominational school appeared to be non-sectarian and under the circumstances the Presbyterians refused to recognize the school and the Kentucky Synod re­ f used to endow it. In 182 3, the Presbyterians were so thorough! y aroused by Transylvania's liberalism that they made another determined effort to establish Centre College as a Calvinistic school in which "legitimate biblical instruction" would form an important part of the curriculum. After considerable agitation, the state re­ leased an amended charter (January 27, 1824) with the stipu­ lation that Centre College would be sectarianized as soon as the Kentucky Synod endowed the institution with $20,000.42 This was accomplished before the end of the decade and so by 18 3o Centre had become a strictly denominational college. During the formative period (1819-1830) the two most im­ portant presidents of Centre College were the Reverend Jer­ emiah Chamberlain and the Reverend Gideon Blackburn. 43 Chamberlain, who occupied the presidential chair from I 8 2 2 to 1826, was partly responsible for the new charter of 1824. Black­ burn was appointed president in 182 7 and became known for his aggressiveness and oratorical ability. It was during his ad­ ministration that an attempt was made to establish a theological department on a permanent basis but insufficient money and the 50 ANTE-BELLUM KENTUCKY lack of a proper teaching staff brought only disappointment and the project was abandoned in the early thirties. Some idea of the slow development of the liberal arts college at Centre may be obtained from the fact that up to 1830 only twenty-one de­ grees had been granted. At Blackburn's first commencement in 182 8 there was a long program of nine orations and one prayer but only three diplomas were presented. 44 With the appointment of Reverend John Clark Young to the presidency in 1830, Centre began to move slowly but surely toward a permanent academic policy and financial security. It was not an easy position that this young educator inherited. The total enrolln1ent of students, including the boys in the prepara­ tory department, was only thirty and some of these left school after Blackburn's resignation, expressing, as they did so, general dissatisfaction with the institution. Although $36,000 had been raised up to this time most of it had been spent for buildings and operative expenses. Consequently when Young assumed his new responsibilities the financial cupboard was bare. An outspoken and critical press added to his difficulties although all Kentucky colleges were under fire throughout the thirties. "We have not so much as one institution which can be spoken of as an honor to our state, asserted The Connnonwealth, and this attitude was typical.45 There was one factor that was to Young's advantage. Since the resignation of Horace Holley, Transylvania University had lost prestige and public confidence in the Lexington institution had been greatly weakened. Thus the principal source of col­ legiate competition at the time was much less potent than in previous years and no longer to be feared. 46 Young was quick to grasp the significance of this situation and he proceeded to make the most of the opportunity. During his administration of twenty-seven years, President Young became so closely identified with Centre that he was regarded by some of his contemporaries as indispensable. It was said that Young was Centre College and that Centre College was Young.47 While this was probably exaggerated praise, it was an indication that he was making a contribution and that his per­ sonal popularity was widespread. The fact that the college was growing and beginning to prosper was the most solid proof of COLLEGE H ..\LLS 51 the president's ability. Classroon1 and laboratory equipment \Vas improved, the curriculum was enriched, and the attendance figures mounted. In 18 5 7, the registrar's books showed an en­ rollment of 2 2 5 students. Most important of all, Young secured 48 an endo,vment of $100,000 from the Synod of Kentucky. vVhen )'~ oung died in 18 5 7, Centre had been transformed into a first-class college and the foundation had been laid for many years of excellent service in the field of higher education. ,vhile Centre was probably the most successful of the church related colleges established in Kentucky after 18 20, the founding and development of Georgetown College by the Baptists was a movement of major importance in the history of denominational education in the West. The college was established in 1829 and it enjoyed the distinction of being the first of its kind in the \Vest and the fifth Baptist school in the nation. Having acquired the property of an old academy and ,vith an endo,vment of $26,000 contributed by friends, the new institution was launched with considerable enthusiasm. How­ ever, "'hen classes started in January, 1830, the college was \vithout a president and there was only one instructor on the teaching staff. This was Thornton F. Johnson, of Virginia, who lvas professor of mathematics but, if necessary, he could teach several additional subjects including French and experimental philosophy. Since the teaching staff ,vas not complete for sev­ eral years it may be assumed that Johnson was called on to per­ form various professorial duties in order to keep the student body of fifteen interested and occupied. 49 Securing a man for the presidency of Georgetown proved to be a difficult task for the board of trustees. The first man elected to the position died before he could reach his new post. Following this unfortunate event, the position was offered to Stephen Chaplin, of \Vashington, but he declined the invita­ tion. The third choice was Irah Chase, a New England educator, but one visit to Georgetown convinced Chase that he was bet­ ter off in New England. Finally, in June 1830, Dr. Joel S. Bacon accepted the presidency of the college and entered immediately upon his duties. But Georgetown's troubles were just beginning. During the first decade of its existence, the college was in a state of turmoil 52 ANTE-BELLUM KENTUCKY and its future looked hopeless. Part of the difficulty was finan­ cial, but the most explosive problems were associated with re­ ligious issues. Georgetown was born in the midst of the Camp­ bellite movement and the split in the Kentucky Baptist church almost expunged the college before it vvas five years old. Dissen­ sion entered the board of trustees and religious controversy found its way to the class rooms. Controversies over the manage­ n1ent of the college property were added to the other problems confrooting the administration. In r 8 32 the situation was so unpleasant that Bacon gave up in disgust and handed in his res­ ignation. From 183 2 to r 8 38, Georgetown drifted on the troubled waters of religious controversy, guided only by that versatile professor of mathematics, Thornton F. Johnson.50 The turning point in Georgetown's history came in 1838 with the election of Rev. Rockwood Giddings, of Shelbyville, to the long-vacant presidential chair. Giddings was a young man in his twenties and he possessed both executive ability and religious zeal. He brought peace and tranquility to the rebellious board members and eliminiated other difficulties that had em­ barrassed the college. He launched an ambitious campaign to in­ crease the endowment fund and he secured pledges amounting to $100,000. About fifty per cent of this amount was actually col­ lected and most of the money was used to construct Giddings Hall, which has remained the central feature of the Georgetown Campus.51 Giddings' career ,vas cut short by his untimely death in r 8 39 when the administration of the college was entrusted to Dr. Howard Malcolm ( r 799-r 879) a man "of cultivation" and ex­ perience in the field of education. He raised the entrance re­ quirements at Georgetown, improved the academic standing of the institution, and made provision for ministerial students. He vvas interested in curriculun1 enrichment and in making the stu­ dents happy and this accounts for the introduction of a brass band "to afford healthful, pure and elevated recreation."52 How­ ever, the public and the board of trustees were more interested in his politics and his anti-slavery sentiments than in his con­ tributions and innovations at the college, and when, in r 8 50, he openly asserted that he favored emancipation the board decided that he should retire. His successor, Dr. J. L. Reynolds, was a COLLEGE HALLS 53 South Carolinian and his vievvs on slavery synchronized with the policy established by the college. 53 Reynolds' administration ( 18 50-18 52) was notevvorthy for the important change in the charter of the college that did away with the original self-perpetuating body of trustees and sub­ stituted a board elected by the Kentucky Baptist Education Society, a body composed of all the friends of Georgetown who had contributed at least $ 1 oo to the endowment fund. The trus­ tees ceased to be "a povver unto themselves" and were now re­ sponsible to the Education Society. Giving those who contri­ buted to the maintenance of the college a share in its adminis­ tration was the most unique feature of this plan. On the eve of the Civil War and during the conflict George­ town College was intelligently directed by Dr. Duncan R. Campbell _who ,vas elected president in 1852. Campbell (1814- 1865) was -born in Scotland and educated for the Presbyterian ministry but after establishing a residence in Richmond, Vir­ ginia, he became interested in the Baptist Church and entered the Baptist ministry. Before he was called to Georgetown ·he held pastorates in Virginia, Mississippi, and Kentucky, engaged in missionary work, and taught Hebrew and Biblical literature at the Baptist theological Seminary in Covington. As president of Georgetown, Campbell was diplomatic, energetic, and effi­ cient. He took the endowment bugbear by the horns and col­ lected $50,000 in cash and the usual assortment of promises and pledges. The latter melted away in the holocaust of civil war but the cash was so wisely invested that it carried the college through the turbulent days of strife and reconstruction. 54 At the close of the ante-helium period, Georgetown was fairly well equipped. The library contained about 6,000 vol­ umes covering a wide range of subjects and the chemical and philosophical apparatus in the laboratories was valued at several thousand dollars. The museum contained 6,000 geological specimens embracing minerals, shells, and fossils. There were nearly 1 ,ooo items representing the civilizations of foreign lands. This collection included coins, costumes, art objects, farm and industrial equipment, maps, charts, and globes. 55 By this time, too, the curriculum had been organized on a pern1anent basis. Three courses \Vere offered: the regular four 54 ANTE-BELLUM KENTUCKY year liberal arts course, a three year course in English, and a scientific course. During Campbell's regime the scientific course was also considered the normal, or teacher-training, course. Ap­ parently the college made a special effort to induce young men to enter the teaching profession. Free tuition was offered to all students \vho agreed to teach as many years as they attended college and the administration promised to help the prospective teachers secure a position. 56 All students at Georgeto\vn were expected to attend daily chapel and go to church on Sunday. Those who skipped classes without permission \Vere obliged to present their alibis directly to the president. No student was allowed out of the dormitory or boarding house after seven in the evening except to attend a college function. Students were forbidden to attend exhibitions of "an immoral tendency." Bar rooms and tippling houses were classified as dens of iniquity and students discovered in these public places were promptly shipped home. Duels were not al­ lo,ved and gambling and drinking either in class or dormitory was prohibited. Finally, the students were requested not to en­ gage in "any frolics of a noisy nature." Discipline was "decisive and prompt" and any student who carried his rugged individual­ ism beyond the pale of collegiate decorum was promptly but quietly removed from the institution. 57 In addition to Georgetown and Centre, which have rendered continuous service down to the present time, the roster of early Kentucky colleges included many small institutions such as St. Joseph's College., Bethel College, Augusta College, Bacon Col­ lege., Shelby College, and Berea College. Shelby College was located in Shelbyville and in the early fifties this school ad­ vertised its special scientific courses which were adapted to the needs of "the future scientific farmer, manufacturer, merchant, mechanic, experimental chemist, civil engineer, as well as to those of the professional gentlemen."58 Shelby was proud of its "com­ plete" chemical laboratory and its observatory equipped with a refracting telescope. There were some well-trained men on its staff including Alexander Schue but the college failed to survive the difficult days of the Civil v\lar. Bacon College was one of the antecedents of the present University of Kentucky. It began its career in Georgetown, COLLEGE HALLS 55 Kentucky, in 18 36, as an academy sponsored by the Christian Church. The next year the academy was reorganized and chart­ ered as Bacon College. With the hope of securing more patron­ age it was moved to Harrodsburg in the summer of 1839. A few years later there "\\'·ere one hundred and eighty students in at­ tendance and the administrators declared that the school was in a flourishing condition. The liberal ans course included philos­ ophy, foreign language, physiology, chemistry, geology, optics, and astronomy. One of the special features of the Bacon Col­ lege curriculum was a complete course in civil engineering.59 Quite suddenly in 18 50 Bacon College closed its doors be­ cause of financial difficulties. In 18 5 8 it was merged with a new institution called Kentucky University which in tum absorbed temporarily what was left of Transylvania University in 1865. Although Berea was not chartered by the state until r 86 5, an attempt ,vas made to establish the school as early as r 8 5 5 and in r 8 5 8 there seems to have been fifty nondescript students in attendance. The purpose of the college was to furnish a thorough education to all persons of good moral character at the least possible expense. The most important member of the first board of trustees was John G. Fee who is often referred to as the father of Berea. Fee was trained for foreign missionary service but when he finished college he was a rabid abolitionist and he decided to forsake foreign fields in order that he might throw his influence against slavery in Kentucky. His experiences were extremely unpleasant. Every church that he established he was forced to abandon because of his abolitionist philosophy. Finally he at­ tracted the attention of Cassius M. Clay who ,vas also opposed to slavery, and the two worked together to establish an aboli­ tionist church and college at Berea. The opposition to the move­ ment was intense and to make matters ,vorse Fee and Clay quar­ reled over petty differences of opinion. Clay withdrew his sup­ port from the enterprise and Fee and his small band of follow­ ers were left alone to fight the angry public. 60 After John Brown's raid on Harper's Ferry, the feeling against all abolitionists was intensified and the position of the Berea staff became untenable. The aroused public asserted that Fee and his a~ociates were tied up with the Black Republicans of the North ANTE-BELLUM KENTUCKY and that Berea College was the secret headquarters of a revolu­ tionary organization. According to the Richnzond (Kentucky) Denzocrat a constant stream of northern immigrants poured into Berea every day and "besides this, numerous heavy boxes have been f orvvarded to Berea; and each party going there has been heavily loaded with baggage, even the ladies trunks being so heavy as to require the united strength of several men to trans­ fer them from place to place. In addition, the leading men of this faction openly boast that they intend to revolutionize the sentiment of this portion of the state, and to hereafter hold the controlling influence in political affairs."61 The Louisville Courier took up the hue and cry and asserted that Kentucky had "hospitable graves" for Fee, Henry Ward Beecher, the John Browns and all other "traitors with bloody hands. " 62 Public opinion throughout the state now became so bitter and so determined that the outcome was inevitable. In December, 1859, the citizens of Madison County held a series of meetings in Richmond to decide the fate of the abolitionists in nearby Berea. There could be only one answer, only one so­ lution to the problem. The Berea group, teachers and preachers, was "destructive of all organized society" and must leave the state.63 Berea soon became a college in exile and remained in­ operative until after the war. In recent years it has made a unique contribution in educating the young men and women of the Southern Highlands. During the late ante-helium period, while denominational colleges rose and fell and Transylvania lingered in the twilight of her golden age, the city of Louisville witnessed the slow and uncertain growth of a municipal university. It was in 18 37 that an ordinance was introduced before the city council which established the Collegiate Institute of Louisville. The plan called for a university of seven departments and a curriculum includ­ ing the sciences, political economy, mathematics, civil engineer­ ing, Latin, Greek, Hebrew, modem languages, English litera­ ture~ history, medieval arts, agriculture, principles of manufact­ uring, and business administration. 64 This plan, impressive and visionary, was conceived by James Guthrie ( 1792-1869), Louis­ ville lawyer and counciln1an, but when the Collegiate Institute COLLEGE HALLS 57 opened in 1838, history, ancient languages, mathematics, and belie-Ietters constituted the entire course of study. The promoters of the Institute expected to meet all financial obligations ,vith tuition fees and contributions from the city administration, but their expectations ended in disappointment. In 1840, the Institute, a financial failure, ,vas reincorporated as Louisville College, but reorganization merely prolonged the agony and in 1 844 the entire faculty resigned. In 1 846, some hope "'~as revived for the liberal arts college. In that year the Louisville Medical Institute and the Louisville College were combined under a new chatter. The merger created the Univer­ sity of Louisville and the new institution was expected to de­ velop an academic department that would take the place of the defunct Louisville College. However, the liberal arts school did not materialize until the twentieth century. 65 The reputation of the University of Louisville in the ante­ bellum period rested entirely upon its medical department which from time to time included on its faculty physicans and surgeons of national fame. 66 Launched as it was in the midst of the panic of 183 7 and guided by the Transylvania secessionists who were regarded by the friends of the Lexington institution as ungrateful rebels, the rapid growth of this medical school was almost phenomenal. For the genesis of the medical department it is necessary to go back to 18 3 3. In that year certain Louisville physicians made the initial attempt to establish a medical school and received permission from the legislature to organize The Louisville i\1edi­ cal Institution. 67 Because of a lack of capital nothing was ac­ complished until 183 7 when the Louisville City Council took advantage of the dissension in the Transylvania Medical School and offered Dr. Charles Caldwell and his disgruntled friends the opportunity of organizing the Louisville Medical Institute. Cald­ well accepted the offer with enthusiasm and he took with him to Louisville three of his Transylvania colleagues, Ors. Cooke, Yandell, and Short. These men were convinced that Louisville, henceforth, would be the medical center of Kentucky.68 The Institute was soon completely organized with seven pro­ fessorships. It is interesting to note that only one Louisville man, Dr. Henry i\1iller, was elected to the faculty. This snubbing of 58 ANTE-BELLUM KENTUCKY local talent created a frigid gulf between the Louisville medical profession and the faculty of the school. The people and the city government ignored this display of professional jealousy and gave the new professors a hearty welcome. The city proved its sincerity by appropriating $30,000 for a medical building and $20,000 for books, laboratory apparatus, and museum equip­ ment. Contracts for the new building ,vere let immediately and the cornerstone ,vas laid with "a grand and inspiring ceremony" early in 1838, but the structure was not completed until 1839.69 The medical school was designed by the popular Kentucky architect, Gideon Shryock, and the outside features of the building reflected the "'influence of the Greek Revival. 70 The structure contained three lecture rooms, four dissecting rooms, a library, a faculty room, and several offices. Each lecture room accommodated from four to five hundred persons. The anatom­ ical theater occupied the third floor where it received direct illumination from skylights and a cupola. In addition to the customary equipment, this room contained plaster of paris statues of Venus and Apollo. Care had been taken to provide ventilation throughout the building, but usually there was such a stench in the dissecting rooms that "airing off" periods were necessary between classes. 71 By 18 50 the library contained about one thousand volumes, including standard works on medicine, some rare Greek and Latin medical classics, and English, French, and American med­ ical journals. 72 In 18 5 2 it was reported that the library had in­ creased its holdings to 4,000 volumes but compared with Trans­ ylvania's library of 12,000 volumes the Louisville collection seemed small. However, the latter was to grow until it became the most modern medical library in the state. The museum at the Institute was gradually equipped and a few years after the merger with Louisville College ( 1 846) an inventory revealed a collection of specimens and models valued at several thousand dollars. The school was very proud of one series of models that illustrated the respiratory, digestive, and circulatory systems of several families of the animal kingdom. 73 The curriculum included anatomy, medical jurisprudence, theory and practice of medicine, principles and practice of surg­ ery, obstetrics, medical botany, chemistry, pharmacy, and clini- COLLEGE HALLS 59 cal n1edicine.' 4 In keeping ,vith the times there ,vere no definite entrance requirements although some of the professors saw the advantiges of entrance examinations. The American ~ledical Association, organized in r 84 7, advocated standardization of entrance requiren1ents and 1nedical courses but little was ac­ complished in this respect until after the Civil \\Tar. In the ante­ bellum period, with competition increasing, the medical schools considered it poor policy to raise their standards above the average. But neither entrance requirements nor curricula gave Ken­ tucky medical schools their reputation. The professors them­ selves vvere the best advertisements for the institutions which they represented. Both Transylvania and the University of Louisville had nationally known teachers of medicine and surg­ ery and these men-Drake, Dudley, Gross-made not only col­ legiate history but medical history. 75 CHAPTER IV CRUSADERS FOR PUBLIC EDUCATION

EFORE 1860 pre-college education in Kentucky was disorganized and to a great extent on a private basis. Public Bschools were innovations and with the exception of the better municipal systems contributed little beyond a promise of bet­ ter things to come. Private schools, many of them operated by schoolmasters of doubtful talents, were on the scene early and remained for many years one of the chief obstacles to the de­ velopment of a public school program. To be overrun ,vith private schools and academies was typical of the South and West. Kentucky was no exception. Private correspondence, diaries, records, and newspapers indicate that there were hundreds of these schools scattered throughout the state. Some of them were connected with the early state acad­ emy system, but most of them were not. While they were all more or less similar they had various names and each name was intended to convey to the public the main purpose of the school. Contemporary newspapers carried advertisements for schools of the following types: classical, high, grammar, Hebrew, select, writing, law, mathematical, boarding, music, dancing, literary, military, parochial, male, and female. The terms academy, in­ stitute, seminary, college and school were used with utter disre­ gard of their exact meaning. "School" might mean private les­ sons in algebra in some one's back parlor or it could refer to a college preparatory institution with a superintendent and one qualified teacher for each twenty pupils.1 A seminary could be as well organized as some of the colleges or it might be a log school house in a remote county where the teacher's salary was paid in whiskey, pork, and furs. 2 A female academy was often an elementary school of needlecraft, but the Paducah Female Seminary offered a broad liberal arts curriculum that included lectures on the new scientific wonder, electricity.3 Occasionally there was a girl's school that specialized in French such as i\1:a- CRUSADERS FOR PUBLIC EDUCATION 61 dame Bonfil's Institute in Lexington or 1\!Iadame Mentelle's Academy in the same town. Some schools advertised all the more useful branches of literature; others specialized in polite education. A school in Frankfort offered a good English educa­ tion "and the dead languages if necessary."4 Tuition varied from town to town but schools located in small villages or in the country were the most reasonable. The Todd school for boys in Frankfort charged from ten dollars to twelve dollars per session of twenty weeks. 5 The B. B. Sayre school of Frankfort charged three dollars to three dollars and fifty cents per week while Mrs. Jett's Female Academy in Louisville asked one hundred and thirty dollars per session for board and tuition. If the distance were not too great, .iVlrs. Jett's pupils were re­ quested to bring their own beds to school. For instruction in his grammar school near Cynthiana, David Bacon charged each pupil five cents a day. 6 Bacon, incidentally, made an interesting comment on parent-teacher relationship in Kentucky. "There is nothing like a good reputation among Kentuckians," he wrote. "There every teacher stands on his o,vn bottom . . . once estab­ lish a name and you need have no fears for the want of scholars if they are within reach."7 The proceeds from Bacon's school enabled him to invest in farm land and eventually he became one of the most successful cattle men in the Bluegrass. All the private schools in Kentucky cannot be named here. In addition to those already mentioned a list of the more inter­ esting ones would include the Franklinian School on Harrod's Run; the Maysville Seminary, Hazel Green's School in Breathitt County; Nicholasville Academy ( a school that prepared boys for '"fransylvania University); Georgetown Female Academy; John Howe's School that was established in Glasgow as early as 1805; The Lexington Female Academy; Muhlenberg Academy; Robert Craddock's plantation school near Bowling Green ( un­ usual because it admitted Negro children); and Mrs. Franklin Jones' school for girls in Bowling Green. The Jones School was established by Mr. and Mrs. Jones, but after the death of her husband in 1 846 Mrs. Jones managed the school alone. An old scrap book reveals the following description of Mrs. Jones and her girls on a typical school day. 62 ANTE-BELLUM KENTUCKY We see Mrs. Jones crossing the street from her home opposite the school; dressed plainly but exquisitely neat, she enters the large room, removes from her light brown wavy hair her quaker-like bonnet, hangs it on the old accustomed hook, moves gracefully to her table, taps the old bell, instantly eighty or one hundred girls or more, rise to their feet and she extends to them the morning greetings; tapping the bell again, all quietly resume their seats and each student recites in rotation a verse of scripture. Then humbly kneeling she asks God's blessings on her work and her girls. 8 Ante-bellum Kentucky boasted of several academies that ap­ proached the collegiate level with respect to organization and curriculum. The W estem Military Institute, Kentucky Military Institute, Bourbon Academy, and Peer's Eclectic Institute were typical examples. Western Military Institute was founded in Georgetown in I 84 7, moved to Blue Lick Springs in 18 50, mi­ grated to Drennon Springs in 18 5 1, 9 and finally merged with the University of Nashville in 18 55. The administration of this migratory West Point attempted to construct a curriculum based on a combination of military science and belle lettres. Students who completed a four-year course were granted a bachelor of arts degree. The Kentucky Military Institute was chartered in 1848 and first opened its doors at Franklin Springs, in Franklin County, later moving to Lyndon, Kentucky. In curriculum and management it resembled the Western Military Institute.10 Bourbon Academy was established in Paris in r 799. Its original board of trustees included such outstanding men as Thomas Hughes, David Purviance, and Barton W. Stone.11 In the be­ ginning Bourbon i\.cademy was only a grammar school, but gradually more advanced subjects including Latin, Greek, and science were added to the curriculum. The first pupils came on horseback and a special lot well supplied with grass was reserved for the horses. The first teacher was given permission to sow a section of the school lot ,vith hemp and oats provided he seeded the soil to grass after the harvest. However, when harvest time rolled around the teacher, with scholarly absent mindedness, neglected to sow the grass seed and the board promptly fined 1 him three dollars. :! From these humble beginnings the academy grew into a first-class school, and by I 82 5 Bourbon students were known for their general culture, their oratorical ability, and their fitness for life.13 CRUSADERS FOR PUBLIC EDUCATION 63 Benjamin 0. Peer's Eclectic Institute was an important school in itself but it had a double significance because its master was a dynamic, pioneer leader in Kentucky's crusade for public schools. The Institute (founded in Lexington in 18 3o) was or­ ganized on the basis of three fundamental principles: the Rens­ selaerean, the Pestalozzian, and the classical. The Rensselaerean system allowed the pupils to take the place of the teacher on certain occasions. They even gave lectures and conducted ex­ periments. To facilitate the execution of this phase of the course, the school ,vas provided with both a museum and a laboratory. The museum contained specimens illustrative of the sciences of mineralogy, geology, botany, and zoology. The herbarium con­ tained about two thousand plants. The laboratory was equipped with apparatus and chemical substances in sufficient quantity to allow the students to perform elementary experiments.14 The Pestalozzian principle was based, of course, on the educa­ tional theories of the Swiss refonner, Johann Heinrich Pestalozzi ( 17 46-18 2 7). Peers was a close student of the Swiss educator and the attention given to man and to nature in Peers' curriculum reflected the Pestalozzian influence. The idea of object lessons for the students had the same source. Peers believed that in­ struction should be adapted to the capacity of the pupil and that a regular progression should be observed, beginning with that which was comparatively simple, and proceeding step by step to that which was complicated and difficult. According to the system, no part of the program was to be passed until it was thoroughly understood by the pupil.15 The classical idea constituted the third fundamental prin­ ciple in the curriculum at Peer's school and calls for but little explanation. A department of classical and modem languages was organized in which Hebrew, Greek, Latin, German, French, Spanish, and Italian were taught. Any or all of the languages would be taught depending on the desires of the parents and the pupils. 16 The Eclectic Institute gave considerable attention to the health of the pupils and exercise was regarded as essential to mental as well as to physical fitness. But exercise did not mean organized sport or calisthenics. It was always associated with some practical duty or task that had definite educational possi- ANTE-BELLUM KENTUCKY hilities. According to the catalog, the students obtained exer­ cise by surveying, by collecting botanical specimens, by exam­ ing work shops and factories, by experimenting with fertilizers in the school garden, and by performing elementary tasks in engineering. 17 The Institute was operated on the two session, or two-semester basis. Each session was of five months duration and the tuition per session varied from twelve to twenty dollars. There was a laboratory fee of five dollars and any apparatus damaged by a student had to be replaced by the unlucky boy who caused the accident. In 18 3 2 the student body numbered nearly one hundred boys and young men who came from at least five states of the Union. Prominent Lexington citizens regarded the school as a success­ ful educational experiment and gave high praise to its founder and superintendent.18 The reputation of the school was more than local. In 18 32, Timothy Flint of Cincinnati referred to the institution as "a school gaining great reputation as being the only one known in the United States where the pupils are pro­ fessedly guided in their whole discipline with reference to the physical, organic, and moral laws of our being. "19 Although some of the private grammar schools and academies in Kentucky were conducted on a high level, and the "academy plan" as such was progressive for the times, nevertheless, these institutions failed to provide what was commonly known as public education. During the early period the educational leaders themselves tended to ignore the idea of public schools and de­ voted all their energies to the institutions of higher learning. This was the accepted policy of the day, especially in Virginia, and many of Kentucky's public men were products of the educa­ tional system of the Old Dominion. The higher unit of the system, the university, was considered the most important fea­ ture. On this point, both pedagogues and politicians generally agreed. As a result the early archives of Kentucky are almost entirely void of any notice of popular education and the con­ stitutions of 1792 and 1799 make no mention of it. Some of the early governors suggested that public education was a suitable topic for legislative debate, hut the first force­ ful public statement on the subject was made by Governor Ga- CRL1SADERS FOR PUBLIC EDUCATION 65 briel Slaughter in his annual report to the legislature on Decem­ ber 3, 1816. He described the problen1 as one that \Vas inter­ \Voven vvith the democratic system of government. The founda­ tion of the American system, he declared, \Vas public opinion but unless public sentiment \Vas based on an intelligent appraisal of social and political needs there was still a chance for mal­ adn1inistration. The blind confidence of the people in public officials ,vas detrimental to the fundamental principles of de­ mocracy and paved the way for demagoguery and inefficiency. Therefore in order to give intelligent support to governmental officers, the people must have enough education to understand the rights of a full people. "Every child born in the state," Slaughter asserted, "should be considered a child of the republic, and educated at the public expense, ,vhere the parents are un­ able to do it. Such a system will not only improve the minds and morals of our youth, and thereby render our free institutions more desirable, but by thus diffusing the benefits of government throughout the body politic, it will be strengthened in the af­ fections of the people. " 20 This appeal was overlooked and in r 8 r 7 the governor again brought before the legislature the subject of education which he regarded as of paramount importance. Schools, he declared, would not only improve the minds and morals of young Ken­ tuckians but such institutions also would tend to introduce a taste for learning among all the people and thus in turn would develop the mental riches of the commonwealth. Slaughter recommended that the state be divided into school districts, per­ haps six miles square, in which schools should be erected and maintained at least in part by the state. These schools were to be open to poor children free of charge. In his message of December 8, 1818, Slaughter merely men­ tioned the subject of free public schools, :?l but in r 819 he re­ newed his earlier plea for the establishment of a school fund. This could be accomplished, he maintained, by setting aside for educational purposes the public lands recently ~cquired by the state from the Indians and all other public land then in the pos­ session of the state. Fines and escheated lands should be used for the same purpose. 22 These n1essages of Gabriel Slaughter have been described as 66 ANTE-BELLUl\,1 KENTUCKY a veritable Gabriel's horn, summoning the friends of education to the assault upon Kentucky illiteracy.2'3 But while Slaughter's ideas were championed by a fe,v, public opinion was not crystal­ ized, and so the legislature did nothing. At this time there was a general belief that public schools were to be operated primarily for charity pupils and not for the masses. Slaughter's program was misunderstood in this connection, because it now seems evi­ dent that he wanted a system of popular education that would bring "the light of knowledge in at the door of every log cabin among the mountains and every plantation mansion of the blue grass country or city home in Lexington. "24 In 182 1, the Kentucky legislators, while still opposed to a state supported school system, temporarily appeased the agitators by appointing several committees. One committee, headed by William T. Barry ( 1784-1835), was appointed to collect in­ formation on the public school system of other states. Circular letters and questionnaires were sent to leading citizens of Ken­ tucky and to prominent educators in other states in the North and East. The circulars sent to Kentuckians were generally ignored, but many replies were received from out of the state, and Barry and his committee collected a mass of infonnation which was organized into "Barry's Report" and duly presented to the legislature in 1 8 2 2. This report contained intelligent re­ marks on the school systems of New England, New York, Penn­ sylvania, Virginia, South Carolina, and Ohio. Considerable im­ portance was attached to Thomas Jefferson's report on the Vir­ ginia schools which were failing because they were for poor children only. The systems of Massachusetts, Connecticut, and New York were regarded as the best and the New York system, supported by state appropriations and local taxes, was recom­ mended for Kentucky.25 One of the most promising features of this report was the attention it gave to the necessity of having well-trained teachers. The traveling schoolmaster, who was frequently better qualified to run a tap room than a school room, was beginning to be ex­ posed for this committee recommended a board of inspectors for each county with authority to examine prospective teachers. According to the committee's report "the teachers should be men of good moral character, capable of teaching manners as CRUSADERS FOR PUBLIC EDUCATION 67 well as letters; and none should be employed, unless he could procure a certificate of qualification from two or more of the inspectors living within the county."2u The committee con­ cluded this section of its report by suggesting the inauguration of teacher training courses in certain academies and perhaps at Transylvania University. Although this report was described by prominent American educators as a valuable document, the legislature regarded it as too radical for the general public. However, the legislators took an important step in the right direction when they ordered that the document be printed for general distribution. In its printed form the report became good propaganda and it seems likely that it had a favorable influence on public opinion. Eight years passed before the legislature attempted any def­ inite legislation on the subject of common schools. In the mean­ time the older crusaders continued to hope for a public school system that would reach all the children of the state. They were about to give up in despair when Benjamin 0. Peers became the self-appointed leader of the movement. It has been indicated that Peers was a teacher of considerable experience. He believed that an education was the rightful heri­ tage of every child and that the state should accept the respon­ sibility of educating its young citizens. But he did not believe in miracles and consequently he realized that only after a long and strenuous campaign of propaganda could he or any other reformer hope to see legislative action of a sound and permanent nature. The first step was to teach the people to believe in public education. ,vithout a favorable public opinion the task was hopeless. 27 In 1828 he toured the state preaching the new philosophy. He spent his own money, sacrificed his own time, and gained a few converts. Old prejudices began to break and so obvious was the growing sentiment in favor of free schools that even the leg­ islature decided to investigate once more the possibility of a state system. Consequently on January 29, 1829 the legislature's com­ n1ittee on education called on Dr. Alva Woods (President of Transylvania) and Peers to express their opinion on the question of common schools. Peers lost no time in exerting his influence in favor of state-supported schools. His report contained an 68 ANTE-BELLUM KENTUCKY able examination of eastern and northern schools which he had investigated, and he indorsed the New York plan of having the state appropriation equal the amount raised by local taxation. Peers took this opportunity to advocate the establishment of a state normal school for the training of teachers, an idea that had its antecedent in the Barry report at the beginning of the dec­ ade. 28 In January, 1830, after considering additional testimonials ,vhich Peers had submitted, the committee on education reported that it was indeed "melancholy to reflect that so large a portion of the rising generation is without means. of instruction."29 Apparently the legislature was duly impressed by the com­ mittee's despondency. A few days later it passed an act that pro­ vided for the division of counties into school districts, each dis­ trict to be managed by three commissioners elected by the dis­ trict voters. l\tloney for the schools was to be raised by local poll taxes. Apparently this act was ineffective as local sentiment op­ posed the poll tax and in some districts there was open opposition to the schools. But the spirit that dominated Peers was not to be daunted and he continued to fight for a sound public school system. In April, 183 o, he sponsored a teachers meeting at his home in Lexington where it appears the delegates organized themselves into an edu­ cation society. The object of this society was to diffuse know­ ledge and to promote popular education. Peer's private library was opened to this society.30 In addition to many other activities he continued to lecture throughout the state for the cause of public schools. In January, 1833 he became acting president of Transylvania University and on November 4 was duly inaugu­ rated.31 Peers decided that his inauguration should be the occasion for a convention of teachers and educators. The board of trustees of Transylvania sanctioned this recommendation and the result was a four-day program centered on the question of public edu­ cation. On Monday, November 4, the newly constructed Mor­ risson College was opened to the public with the proper cere­ monies including Peer's inaugural address. Tuesday was com­ mencement day. On Wednesday, the teachers' convention opened with an address by Lyman Beecher on "The Dignity and CRUSA.DERS FOR PUBLIC EDUCATION 69 In1portance of the Profession of Teaching," \vhich \Vas so long that it had to be continued the following day. There was a "General Education Convention" which discussed, among other items, the f ollo,ving topics: teacher training colleges, licenses for teachers, a state teacher's society, county property taxes to support teachers, and collegiate educational standards. 32 The teachers convention was well attended and the local press believed "the number of spectators shows that there is a gen­ erous and awakening impulse pervading the public mind upon the subject of education."33 In January, 1834, the teachers who had been associated with Peers and other educational leaders at this Lexington convention met at Frankfort and established a state society for common schools. This society petitioned the legislature on the subject of public schools and a normal school and took steps to continue the campaign to educate the public on the same subject. Peers, Governor Breathitt, James T. More­ head, and the Reverend H. B. Bascom were prominently as­ sociated with the movement. Throughout the period from 1826 to 1835, these leaders were constantly at work on their mission to improve Kentucky edu­ cational facilities. By means of lectures, public debates, and the press the subject was kept before the people and gradually the public mind was awakened. In many respects, Peers was the philosopher of the movement while the actual organization of the schools was left to other men. He popularized ideas and prin­ ciples of education that are still considered modem, although he did not originate them all as he borrowed heavily from Pes­ talozzi and other prominent refonners of Europe and America. Some of the more important pedagogical principles which he recommended were:

1. Teachers denote the character of a school. 2. Teachers should receive professional training in a normal school. 3. Institutions that trained teachers should have teacher place­ ment bureaus. 4. Teachers should be well paid in order that more dignity might be attached to the profession. 5. The teacher should attempt to adjust the lessons to fit the child's age and ability. ' 6. Compulsory education was advisable. ANTE-BELLUM KENTUCKY 7. Every school house should have a library. 8. Vocational schools for those not interested in a general lib­ eral arts education. 9. Physical education should be a part of every curriculum. 10. The state should support public schools and it would be ad­ vantageous if the state published the text books used in the schools.

In 183 6 Kentucky received from the federal government its share of the surplus revenue distribution amounting to $ 1,43 3,- 7 5 7. This money was to be distributed for educational pur­ poses, but in 183 7 and 183 8 the Kentucky politicians spent over one third of this school fund for internal improvements. The first encouraging act on the part of the state legislature was the school law of February, 18 3 8 which provided for a board of education consisting of the superintendant of schools, the secretary of state, and the attorney general. The board appointed five school commissioners in each county who were expected to divide the county into school districts containing not less than thirty nor more than a hundred school children. This was only the beginning of their responsibilities. They called in the voters of the district to elect five school trustees and to raise taxes for the support of the schools. They supervised the election of teachers, the distribution of school money, and the curriculum. They were called upon to make detailed reports to the state board and they were held responsible for all school money lost through their own neglect or maladministration. In spite of the work demanded of them, the commissioners received no salary, and their position was often made untenable by either the criti­ cism or indifference of the people. The work of the superin­ tendant of schools, although he did receive an annual salary of one thousand dollars, was generally unappreciated. 34 Kentucky's first superintendant of public instruction was Joseph J. Bullock ( 1812-1892) who assumed his duties in Feb­ ruary, 1838. While he was not too optimistic, and certainly not a visionary who expected the school system to appear out of thin air, he did expect more cooperation from the people and the county commissioners than was forthcoming. He could not get the information he needed; in some cases his letters to the com­ missioners and other public officials were ignored and only in CRUS.ADERS FOR PUBLIC EDUCATION 71 chose sections ,vhere he made personal investigations was he able ro obtain facts and statistics. At the end of the first year only thirteen counties in the state had even reported the number of children of school age. 35 Bullock served out his term of t,vo years but declined another appointment because of ill health. From 1 840 to r 847 the public school system made no progress in spite of considerable legislation on the subject. Laws in the statute books were not sufficient in a region where the idea of public education had not been firmly rooted in the life of the people. The legislation itself was ambiguous and not conducive to public confidence. It was only natural that the people ,vho supported public education began to despair. They thought the common school system was defeated before it had been given a fair trial. "The system worked so badly," declared a prominent school leader, "and politicians, moved by unworthy motives, threw such obstacles in its course, that even good and wise men mourned over it as a failure. "36 The turning of the tide came in 1847 with the appointment of Robert J. Breckinridge as Superintendent of Public Instruc­ tion. At the time of his appointment only twenty-three out of one hundred and one counties reported common schools in op­ eration. It ,vas estimated that there were 173,968 children be­ nveen the ages of five and sixteen in the state but only 20,402 were attending school. The financial situation was discouraging also. The school fund should have provided a yearly income of $63,000 but on account of legislative tinkering the State Board of Education was receiving only $6,000 per year to be distributed among the counties. 37 In January, 1848, Breckinridge gave the legislature a frank and forceful statement on the condition of the public schools and for the next five years he fought for progressive legislation. The opposition was stiff, but by 185 2 there were definite signs of success. For example, the state issued bonds totaling nearly $400,000 to meet the increasing cost of the school system and an act ,vas passed to prevent the diversion of school funds into other channels. The superintendent ,vas made a regular officer of the state, elected by the people. This act increased the popu­ larity of the superintendent and gave his office more prestige fro1n the point of view of the general public.38 72 ANTE-BELLUM KENTUCKY At the same tin1e, progress was being made in the organization of the schools and, in his report of 18 5 2, the superintendent de­ clared that "the whole system had been brought to a very high state of efficiency. "39 This optimistic statement ,vas indicative of improvement, but it cannot be accepted at face value. \Vhile it is true that schools were in operation in every county, the entire system was far from efficient and the type of instruction provided in some of the schools was very crude. However, at least on paper, out of 215,195 children, 194,963 were provided ,vith district schools. But the problem of attendance had not been solved. In Harlan County on certain days during the short school term only 163 pupils out of 1,294 were in school. Even in Fayette County it ,vas not uncommon for more than half of the school children to be absent. In Shelby County there were over two thousand children of school age but the number ac­ tually in attendance sometimes fell below six hundred. 40 The poor attendance record was traced to several causes. Many children lived far from school and poor roads ( or none at all) made quick transportation impossible. There was little provision for higher training and the limited course of instruc­ tion in the hands of untrained teachers was unattractive to the more capable students. In some counties thousands of children were excluded from school at various times because of political machinations and various technicalities relative to the tax pro­ gram. But even with these defects the school system was be­ ginning to make a contribution to the younger generation. "Many tens of thousands of Kentucky youth of both sexes," declared Breckinridge in 1852, "enjoyed the advantages of these schools, which were formerly out of their reach."41 Breckinridge did not bequeath to his successors a perfect school system but he did bring it to a higher point of efficiency and effectiveness than ever before. Some Kentucky historians regard him as the father of the state's public schools. A Somerset editor, R. M. Bradley, declared in 1854 that Breckinridge was "the most prominent example . . . of fear less, self-sacrificing devotion to the interests of the people" and that he had become "the guardian of all the children of the state."42 Similar words of appreciation were expressed by all those interested in the cause of education. CRUSADERS FOR PUBLIC EDUCATION 73 The crusade for public education brought forth an enthusi­ astic response from certain civic leaders who conceived and de­ veloped municipal public school programs which were almost entirely independent of the state common school system. The first charter of the city of Louisville ( 1 8 2 8) con£erred upon the mayor and councilmen the authority to establish one or more free schools in each ward. This provision was relatively progres­ sive but as soon as the people of Louisville discovered that "free" schools would bring additional taxes there was a howl of com­ plaint. In spite of the opposition the mayor appointed a special committee to study the educational needs of the city and, in par­ ticular, to study the possibility of establishing a permanent free school system. In March, 18 2 9,. the committee submitted a strong plea for public schools, asserting that education was es~ential to the American way of life. In the committee's report, knowl­ edge was described in terms of moral and political power. "It is moral po,ver for it enables a man to consult the best means of happiness. It is political power for without knowledge our cul­ tural rights, purchased by the bloody strife which our fat hers held with the oppressor, can never be preserved in their purity and handed down to future generations. " 43 The committee recommended a general school tax and as­ sened that education supported by this method represented so­ cial economy. "The crimes committed in society by one vicious man whose mind has never been enlightened by one correct thought," the report stated, "are absolutely a source of greater expenditure to society than would be sufficient to educate twenty indigent youths. " 44 The rep on of the committee was intelligent and forceful and the city administration was duly impressed. On April 24, 1829, an ordinance was passed creating a school open to all white children between the ages of six and fourteen inclusive. 45 Provi­ sion was made for a board of trustees of six members, elected annually by the mayor and council. The board was given pow­ ers to admit students, to pass by-laws for the go\ ernment of the school, to elect the principal and teachers, and to purchase books, stationery, and apparatus. The principal received a salary of seven hundred and fifty dollars per annum while his assistants drew only four hundred dollars. The principal was directly 74 ANTE-BELLUM KENTUCKY responsible for the administration of the school and was re­ quested to report at least once a month to the chairman of the board. The teachers ( including the principal) were ordered "to pay particular attention to the morals, decency and good con­ duct of the scholars." In these early years teachers and trustees alike were at the mercy of the city government and they could be removed "at the pleasure" of the mayor with the consent of the council. 46 The most important man connected with the new enterprise was Mann Butler, who became the first principal of the city's first public school in 1829. Shortly after his appointment he was authorized to tour the eastern states and to observe in particular the Lancastrian system then in vogue in some of the larger cities. He returned to Louisville convinced that the system had many faults but its main virtue, economy of operation, was very at­ tractive to the city administration. Consequently, when the school opened on August 17, 1829, Butler was obliged to intro­ duce the Lancastrian or monitorial system. Although Butler's reputation as a gentleman and a scholar was well known to the Louisville public, the city school that he managed was not popular. The fact that it was "free" stigmatized in with an unsavory odor. It was called by some "the pauper school," and it was a fact that the majority of the pupils were children of parents who could not afford the luxury of a pri­ vate school. Then too the school did not have a building of its own and it did not possess the proper equipment. 47 The first year was one of experimentation. It became evident that the public did not approve of city appropriations to main­ tain the school and evidence was secured to prove that a public school could not be operated efficiently in makeshift quarters. When the second school year began some changes had taken place. School was held in a new three story brick building cap­ able of accommodating seven hundred and fifty pupils. The organization and the curriculum had been expanded to include a primary and a grammar deparnnent for boys and a special department for girls. Each department had a principal, Mann Butler being in charge of the upper division, or grammer school. A radical change from the original policy of the school was made evident by a system of moderate tuition fees. The moni- CRUSADERS FOR PUBLIC EDUCATION 75 torial methods were continued and in some classes a dozen or more advanced students, under the eagle eye of a principal, di­ rected the study of a large and noisy group of pupils. 48 By 18 34, Butler was disgusted with the Lancastrian system and he attempted to bow out gracefully by asking for a leave of absence so that he might write a history of Kentucky. How­ ever, he soon broke completely with the board and f onnally resigned on June 27, 1834.49 As Louisville grew in size and importance its school system attempted to maintain a parallel program of expansion. In 1840 the city pointed with pride to its seven primary schools and six grammar schools. A night school, one of the first in the United States, attracted considerable attention, and, as already noted in chapter three, the city was experimenting with a liberal arts college. The experiment failed to produce a liberal arts college but it did produce a first class secondary school that became known as Male High School. One of the most progressive and important acts in the history of the Louisville public school system in the ante-bellum period was the abolition of the moni­ torial methods and tuition fees. This \Vas accomplished by a 50 city ordinance in 1 840. A few years after Louisville inaugurated its school system the administrators of Lexington launched a similar program. On August 2, 1832, the Mayor, Charleton Hunt, appointed a com­ mittee to study "some plan for the education of the poor child­ ren of the city."51 When the school finally opened in Rankin's renovated meeting house sometime during 1834 its purpose had been expanded to include all children of the town. Hunt be­ lieved that society should extend educational opportunities "to those unfortunate children within its circle who would other­ ,vise be excluded from its benefits in consequence of the mis­ fortunes or lives of their parents."52 However, he realized that a public school should not be limited to poor children and so he encouraged patronage from the upper classes. "This arrange­ ment," he asserted, "will bring together those thar will be neces­ sarily associated hereafter in the business of life and give to them a knowledge of each other's character, which is essential to make them pass successfully and happily through life."63 Upper class children were not admitted free. All children ANTE-BELLUM KENTUCKY above the pauper level were charged either the full tuition or a certain portion of the tuition charges, depending on the financial position of the parents. Tuition fees were determined by a com­ mittee appointed by the mayor. The principal of the school could not admit a pupil ,vithout the written permission of the committee. The written permit gave the necessary information pertaining to parent or guardian, the amount of tuition to be charged for the school year, and how the money should be collected. Usually half of the fee was demanded in advance. Ac­ cording to th~ school ordinances of 183 2, the terms of receiving scholars was kept secret by the principal and the committee. Members of this committee, called the overseers of the city school, had various duties to perform. They employed the prin­ cipal "at a salary not exceeding five hundred dollars per annum" and such assistants or teachers as they deemed necessary "at a salary not exceeding two hundred and fifty dollars each. " 54 The overseers had the authority to discharge the school staff when­ ever, in their opinion, such action was necessary. Appointments and dismissals were subject to a perfunctory approval by the city council. It was the duty of the overseers to provide the necessary rules and regulations for the government of the school and to suspend scholars who consistently violated the rules. The mayor ordered the committee to make a tour of inspection of the class rooms at least once a week and observe the nature of instruction and the progress made by the children. Semi-annual reports on the condition of the school were requested by the mayor and council. According to the first report of the overseers, made on Feb­ ruary 5, 183 5, the city school had a staff of four teachers in ad­ dition to the principal. However, one teacher taught only thirty days during a term of five months. He received a salary of thirty dollars. The other three teachers were women. Two received a salary of seventy-five dollars each for a term of five months. The third received thirty-seven dollars for the same length of time. The principal received the comparatively fabulous salary of three hundred and twenty-five dollars. It cost the school of­ ficials $ 118.2 2 to heat the building and to keep it clean. Tuition collected from the student body of one hundred and ninty­ three was $308.45. This left a balance of $352.77 to be paid from CRUSADERS FOR PUBLIC EDUCATION 77 the city treasury. 55 Since there ,vas a school year of ten months, it may be assumed that the annual salary of the principal was six hundred and fifty dollars and that the income of the teachers ranged from seventy-four dollars to three hundred dollars. By 1 8 36 the school was attracting considerable attention in the Bluegrass although in Lexington itself there were prominent citizens who ignored it. 56 In order to create more general inter­ est the school opened the semi-annual examinations to the public and the local press urged all friends of education to attend. Ac­ cording to the newspaper reports the examinations were "highly interesting . . . interesting from the fact that a large ponion of the pupils are the children of poor parents, some of widows, and many of whom would not, but for the facilities offered by the city school, be able to give their children even the rudiments of an education. The examination was highly creditable to both the teachers and the pupils, and panicularly to the principal of the school, Mr. Josiah Gayle. " 57 The pupils were tested in arith­ m~tic, penmanship, reading, English grammar, geography, and etiquette. During the years that f ollo,ved, the Lexington city school became more firmly entrenched in spite of a precarious financial situation. Attempts were made to secure private endowment and the legislature was petitioned for assistance, but most of the money to suppon the institution came from the city treasury and from the special "assessments" made on parents who could pay tuition for their children. Probably one fourth of the as­ sessed· fees were never collected. 58 By 185 2 the little system had expanded to four schools and the total enrollment, including attendance at a special night school, was over one thousand two hundred students. Nearly fifty per cent of the pupils were girls although one school, known as the Transylvania City School, was open only to boys. By this time, too, the financial situation had been improved by general taxes ( there was no special school tax), private dona­ tions, and a small share of the Kentucky public school fund. Consequently the tuition fees were levied only on those who resided outside the city limits and those who attended school outside of the city district in which they lived. The Transylvania City School occupied a rather unique po- ANTE-BELLUM KENTUCKY s1t1on in the Lexington educational system. It was established in 185 2 in the rooms of the discontinued preparatory department of Transylvania University. .A.ccording to the agreen1ent be­ t\veen the university and Lexington officials, the city was al­ lowed to use the unoccupied building provided that the prop­ erty was kept in good repair and that the school be conducted on a grammar school ( high school) level, with courses in Greek and Latin a regular part of the curriculum. In addition the agree­ ment stipulated that gifted students were to have the privilege of attending certain courses in the university free of charge after they had completed one year in the grammar school. Since Lexington was already keeping Transylvania alive by special bond issues, this agreement of 185 2 brought the university to the point vvhere it \Vas virtually a part of the public school sys­ tem. This was considered a great advantage at the time, and James O. Harrison, chairman of the school committee, believed that Lexington had "the most comprehensive and perfect system of public instruction upon earth. " 59 To Harrison,· the most significant feature of the new arrange­ ment was its democracy. The university, at the head of the system, had its doors open wide "alike to the poor and the rich. Thus it should be. Let the rich and the poor mingle together at the same schools, be subject to the same discipline, drink from the same fountain of learning and begin side by side the same high career of usefulness and ambition."60 The obvious weakness in the school program was the absence of any provi­ sion to allow young women to secure the advantages of a higher education. Harrison realized this and started to agitate for equal privileges for the girls. They, too, he believed, should be allowed to study in the university. He campaigned also for higher salaries for teachers, 61 but in each case he ran into stubborn political opposition and accomplished nothing. However, during Harrison's chairmanship (1843-1853) the general standards of the Lexington schools were raised and a number of reforms were achieved. To insure uniform instruction in each school the committee adopted a list of text books on the recommendation of the principal and teachers in the system. The school year was extended from ten months to eleven and examinations were required for teachers applying for positions. CRUSADERS FOR PUBLIC EDlTCA. TION 79 To create a more direct feeling of responsibility on the part of the teachers and to keep the school con1mittee informed on school problen1s, a regulation ,vas adopted requesting the school 6 principals to meet ,vith the con1mittee once a ,veek. ~ The problen1 of discipline was handled by "moral n1eans" or by reasonable punishment. Flogging or cruelty of any type ,vas forbidden. The teachers were urged not only to encourage a spirit of en1ulation in their class rooms but to appeal to the pride of the children and to excite in each such a feeling of self respect that he ,vould be ashamed to disrupt the normal life of the school. \"\lhenever this indirect or "moral method" failed, the teacher ,vas permitted to inflict punishment "by direct contact" as a discreet parent would punish his o,vn son or daughter. Stu­ dents who proved to be difficult to handle were dismissed in order that the schools might remain institutions "of virtue and 6 3 knowledge. " : It was the ambition of the school committee under the chair­ manship of Harrison to bring the Lexington schools to a point of perfection. They fell short of their goal, but considering the time and the place, the Lexington schools with respect to cur­ riculum and management were above the average for the state and probably equal to the Louisville system. It seems evident that the schools in both cities were given better support than the state system and that they progressed more rapidly. This was to be expected since the towns had advantages in cooperation and better opportunities to secure funds. It was easier to support a school in a well-to-do thickly populated community than in the thinly settled rural areas. Only schools in Louisville and Lexington have been described because in many respects conditions in these cities were typical. Other Kentucky to,vns such as Frankfort, Covington, New­ port, and Maysville experimented with public education and -established systems of their own. CHAPTER V

LANCET, PILL, AND SCALPEL

NE OF THE distinctive aspects of education in Ken­ tucky was the emphasis given to the sciences. With but one0 or two exceptions prominent scientists working in the state during the ante-bellum period were attached to an institution of higher learning. Interesting and valuable contributions . were made in medicine, surgery, botany, chemistry, and geology. These products of the scientific mind were influential in deter­ mining the social and intellectual pattern of the state. Of special value were the medical and surgical techniques developed by a small group of practitioners who sometimes worked under most unfavorable, if not primitive, conditions. The early doctor was a pioneer on the frontiers of science and the obstacles which confronted him and the dangers that threat­ ened him were as great as those that confronted a Boone or a Sevier. By 1800 many of the unfavorable conditions concomit­ ant to frontier society had disappeared in the Atlantic seaboard states, and physicians and surgeons were performing their work under comparatively favorable conditions, although their actual knowledge was a combination of magic, mysticism, and philos­ ophy. In the region beyond the mountains, however, the frontier was still the most dominant feature of a restless mode of life. Here the people were still struggling with the forest, the wild beasts, the Indians, and the land. Nevertheless, this frontier country was to become the laboratory for doctors, chemists, and naturalists who were to attract the attention of the world of science before 1860. . l\!Iedical science was ripe for a revolution. Doctors everywhere were handicapped by a lack of fundamental scientific knowl­ edge and by unscientific principles which tradition forced upon them. The revolution, however, was slow in coming, although the first half of the nineteenth century saw the introduction of the cellular theories and there were other indications that the LANCET, PILL AND SCAPEL 81 profession was anxious to throw off the old shackles and re­ straints. The signs of the times, both in Europe and .A.. merica, ,vere encouraging, but actual results were delayed because only a f e,v doctors dared to mark out an independent course that isolated long cherished rules and principles. A few of the pio­ neers-a few of the doctors who dared-lived in Kentucky. Writing for The Western Lancet in 1846, Dr. L. M. Lawson of Lexington and Cincinnati declared that "in no department of society is there found more earnest demands for what is tech­ nically called reform, than in medicine; in none, perhaps, do the interests of society and the profession require more radical revisions." Lawson approved a complete revision of medical science, but he feared "that much of the controversy on this sub­ ject is a fruitless effort to accomplish by instantaneous action, that which must require the lapse of years to secure. " 1 Possibly the greatest evils of therapeutics in this period were bleeding and purging. To be sick and not to be freely vomited, purged, and bled was unprofessional. If a man had a headache his case was immediately diagnosed as "bilious." The medicine that was prescribed inevitably was an emetic of tartrate of antimony and potassa fallowed by a large dose of calomel. The purpose of the emetic was to relieve the stomach of bile. The calomel was to put renewed vigor into the liver and to completely evacuate the intestines. If the headache patient had a slightly irregular pulse the lancet ,vas employed to draw a full stream of blood from the arm. This treatment prevailed both in the city and in the rural areas although it was claimed by some doctors that the farmer could stand n1ore bleeding than his city cousin. 2 After 1850 the n1ovement to abandon over-dosing gained strength and by 1870 the profession had abandoned emetics and venesection. This change constituted a revolution in the history of medicine and ,vas n1ade possible by three important factors. First, a more comprehensive knowledge of bodily functions; second, a greater reliance on !he healing powers of nature; and third, the introduction of new drugs. Among the ne,v drugs were aconite and veratrine which by 186 5 were usurping the place of the lancet, the emetic, and the purgatives. Aconite in particular become almost indispensible for reducing fever and ANTE-BELLUM KENTUCKY remained popular until supplanted by aspirin and other modern drugs. Another obstacle to progress in the nineteenth century was "medical fashion." Fashions and fads exercised as much power in the medical profession as they did in millinery. 3 In the twen­ ties and thirties it was the fashion to have "liver complaints." Dyspepsia, neuralgia, and chronic coughs were all thought to be related to a disorder of the liver although in most cases that organ was actually sound and healthy. At the same time phre­ nologists were attempting to supplant medical science with fas­ cinating but unsound principles. In the forties many women of America were convinced that they had spinal disorders because a Philadelphia doctor, John K. Mitchell, published a best seller on that subject. The same decade brought forth the wet-blanket and cold-water cure for aches and pains. In the fifties tonsils were blamed for many ailments and in the sixties disease of the uterus became fashsionable. "Not to have an ulcer upon the womb," declared Dr. Samuel Gross, "is to be beyond the pale of the sex. " 4 It seems evident that both therapeutics and surgery had suf­ fered from inaccurate case reports. Many cases were never re­ corded at all, and the best doctors were often the most careless in this connection. This negligence was due to a lack of proper perspective. The doctors of this period were only beginning to visualize themselves as a great army protecting the whole of so­ ciety. Generally they did not see beyond their own patients and their own needs. Medicine as a great social force was only in its infancy. Another factor that must be mentioned in any consideration of medical progress was the public mind. At the beginning of the nineteenth century the common people did not show the proper appreciation of the trained physician. Even in mid­ century the trained doctor had not been completely accepted by the public. In 1846, one of the medical students at Transyl­ vania University was so impressed with this situation that he wrote his dissertation on the topic "Some of the Popular Ob­ jections to Medicine." In this essay he emphasized the role of the quack as the popular enemy of the scientist and estimated LANCET, PILL AND SCAPEL that the charlatans outnumbered the qualified physicians a hun­ dred to one. Another indication of public reluctance to accept the physi­ cian as a valuable asset to the social order ,vas reflected in the very small fees paid for medical attention. It was not uncommon for a doctor to serve all the people on a plantation, Negroes and ,:vhites, at the rate of three dollars per person per year! 5 In Kentucky during the early decades of the nineteenth cen­ tury there was a comparatively normal mixture of progressive ideas and dogmatic, superstitious attitudes in the field of medi­ cine. Intelligent leadership was not at all times generally dis­ tributed throughout the state. In the first four decades, for ex­ ample, this leadership was concentrated almost entirely in the Bluegrass section. After r 8 3 7 Louisville began to equal Lexing­ ton in scientific activities and by r 860 Lexington had lost its earlier paramount position in medicine while Louisville was in the ascendency as a medical center. The medical history of Kentucky begins with a smallpox la,v passed at the very end of the eighteenth century. This act pro­ vided a heavy fine for anyone who brought the disease into the state and it also attempted to regulate inoculations. The law declared that any person might be inoculated with pus from an active case provided he received written permission from his neighbors living within a radius of three miles of his home. 6 Furthermore, the law asserted that any person who had been ex­ posed to the disease must be isolated under a doctor's care. At the turn of the century, Jenner's method of vaccination was introduced in Kentucky by Doctor Samuel Brown of Lex­ ington. Brown was a Virginian by birth who had received his medical education in Philadelphia and Edinburgh. He was a regular subscriber to the London scientific journals and appar­ ently he was aware of Jenner's "cow pox treatment" a few months after it was publicly announced. By r 802 he had vac­ cinated several hundred persons in the Lexington area and the claim has been advanced, with some justification, that he was the first to use the Jenner vaccine in the United States. 7 Brown was regarded with respect by his Kentucky contem­ poraries but his professional prestige did not rest alone on his introduction of smallpox vaccine. 8 In addition to his dissertation ANTE-BELLUM KENTUCKY on bilious fever, published in Boston in 1797, he wrote a treatise on yellow fever that \Vas awarded a prize by the Humane So­ ciety of Boston in 1 800. This study was published in the same year by Manning and Loring of Boston. 9 In addition to his pub­ lications on fevers, Brown made contributions to medical per­ iodicals on such topics as the use of electricity on paralytics, "The extraordinary case of a man who appeared to have three testicles, " 10 niter caves, and cures for tetanus. One of the most interesting cases which he reported concerned a young lady of Texas \Vho ran a nail in her foot. The patient called the family physician "who, unluckily, was at a horse-race, and declined to visit her." After some delay Brown was called in to examine the injured foot. Tetanus was already developing and after try­ ing all the "fashionable remedies" he created a severe inflamma­ tion of the bowels by dosing the lady with a blister beetle tinc­ ture. The intestinal disorder checked the tetanus. "It is well known," wrote Brown, "that physicians are often under the necessity of combating one disease by creating another, and al­ though it must be confessed that the inflamation of the stomach and bowels is attended with great danger, no practitioner ,vill hesitate to affirm that tetanus is still more dangerous. " 11 Throughout the ante-bellum period Kentucky was never en­ tirely free of smallpox, and tuberculosis, known as consumption or scrofulus, and other respiratory diseases were prevalent 1 throughout the state. :! There were periodic epidemics of in­ fluenza, pneumonia, measles, scarlet fever, cholera, dysentery typhoid, and autumnal fever. The so-called autumnal fever, al­ though subdivided into at least twelve different diseases, was generally simple malaria. Dr. Daniel Drake, who was considere.d the greatest authority on the diseases of the i\1ississippi Valley in this era, declared that autumnal fever was known also as bil­ ious, intermittent, remittent, congestive, miasmatic, malarial, marsh, malignant, chillfever, ague, dumb ague, and the fever.13 Cases of typhoid \Vere likely to be mistaken for a severe type of malaria, although by 1850 most physicians were able to dis­ tinguish between these t\VO diseases. The prevalence of malaria brought financial success to many quacks who were able to sell their "cures" on a large scale to the unsuspecting public. Some of these nostrum venders wrote LANCET, PILL AND SCAPEL books and pamphlets on the subject in order to increase their revenue. In r 807 a certain "resident physician" of Bardstown offered to publish by subscription "a history of the bilious, re­ mitting fever, and other bilious, autun1nal diseases, the result of personal observations both in the Atlantic and Western states; together with the most salutary method of treatment, predicated upon a new system of medical philosophy, wherein the morbid operations of the animal machine are explained ,vith greater f ac­ uity of reasoning than by any theory of medicine hitherto ad­ duced."14 Typhoid was one of the most fatal diseases in the South and Kentucky ,vas not excepted. Doctors were entirely in the dark with respect to the causes of this malady and their attempts to prescribe effective medication had little, if any, scientific foun­ dation. Patients survived in spite of the treatment prescribed, not because of it, although by the end of the period ne,v drugs, especially ipecac, were being used to keep the fever down. In the Bluegrass region of Kentucky, where typhoid was the most common disease, some physicians listed artificial ponds and decaying vegetable matter as possible causes. In some cases, poor housing conditions ,vere said to be responsible. Wet cellars and poor ventilation ,vere possibilities, and houses in which the floors were close to the ground seemed to be breeding places for typhoid. Exposure to cold was thought to have produced the fever in certain cases. In general, physicians admitted that they did not know whether or not the disease was cGntagious. In r 845-r 846, during the Georgetown, Kentucky, epidemic, local doctors suspected that the disease was contagious although they had no proof.15 The disease struck the Negroes more severly than it did the whites. For example, during the early fifties in Fayette and Scott counties one white in every five hundred and fifty and one slave in every three hundred and eighty died of typhoid fever.16 The sexes were considered equally susceptible. The death rate from this disease was especially high among young people between the ages of ten and thirty. In Fayette County, in 1852, one out of every two hundred and ninety-one between the ages of ten and thirty died of typhoid, while only one in every nine hundred 86 ANTE-BELLUM KENTUCKY belo"v the age of ten and above the age of thirty, succumbed to this disease. 17 The. symptoms of the disease were described as follo"vs: "Pain in the head, more or less marked, giddiness upon rising, buzzing in the ears, in advanced stage, delirium. Tongue whitish, with red papillae sticking through the fur; gradually becoming red and dry; thirst, occasional nausea and vomiting, loss of appetite. Pain and meteorism of bowels; gurgling of bowels; diarrhoea of fetid odour; occasionally in advanced stage, hemorrhage from the bowels. "18 The treatment prescribed for typhoid was complicated. For nausea an emetic of ipecacuanha was recommended. Bleeding either by leeches or cupping was supposed to relieve pain in the head. Either cold or warm water sponge baths and ·small doses of ipecac were given the patient to control fever. For delirium, one half grain of hyoscyamine, three grains of camphor, and one grain of ipecac in repeated doses was generally ordered by the attending physician. Large blisters, or mustard plasters, were placed on the abdomen in case the patient complained of severe pain in the bowels. Diarrhoea was treated with opium, paregoric, injections of laudanum and starch or a pill of opium pushed into the rectum above the sphincter. Physicians attempted to check intestinal hemorrhage with large doses of calomel or small doses of calomel and opium. If the bloody discharge continued the doctor might try injections of ice water or of acetate of lead.19 By 1 840 a few physicians, including Daniel Drake who was as­ sociated with the LT niversity of Louisville at that time, believed that bleeding and the use of calomel and emetics proved fatal in typhoid cases. Frequently gangrene of the mouth caused by the use of too much calomel was the direct cause of the patient's death. 20 One of the most dreaded diseases was cholera. It may be described as a violent form of disentery. Frequently, it took a heavy toll among children and for this reason was often called cholera infantum. In 182 8 this disease was responsible for over one third of the deaths among the children of Louisville. In Lex­ ington and other Kentucky towns the ratio was almost as high. Cholera was often complicated with other diseases and a com- LANCET, PILL AND SC.A.PEL 87 bination of cholera infantum and whooping cough usually proved fatal. 21 The medical journals of the day printed various descriptions of Cholera. One of the most vivid descriptions based on obser­ vation was recorded in the Transylvania Journal of Medicine by Dr. John P. Harrison of Louisville. In the first forms of the disease the child is at first languid and slug­ gish, a slight febrile heat is manifest, the thirst is greater than natural, and the bowels may be torpid. The vomiting and purging come on with increased heat of the skin and fever, the ingesta recently taken are thrown up with the fluid drank, and the f oecal matter, already in the bowels, is evacuated. As the al vine discharges become more frequent, tenesmus and tormina, evinced by the writhing and screaming of the little sufferer, with straining and the forcing out of the lower end of the rectum, take a prominent place in the catalogue of symptoms. The vomiting is repeated whenever any fluid, even the mother's milk, if the child is at the breast, is swallowed. The patient cries and frets for water, points to the vessel, convulsively snatches it when brought near the lips, and hastily swallows it down. The bowels, in the progress of the disease, when in its downward march towards a fatal termination, are in a high state of irritation, with coldness of the surface; the abdomen and head are hot to the touch, the tongue white and furred, the child's countenance assumes a settled cast of gloom and fretfulness, it moans out a feeble cry, the stools are squirted out or forcibly ejected with straining, great prostration ensues, inces­ sant restlessness, and sometimes convulsions close the scene. 22

Doctors listed many causes for cholera, but no one really understood the disease. Improper digestion, teething, worms, "poison air," and fresh fruit were all considered as contributing causes. As it was more prevalent in summer, the heat was con­ sidered an important factor by some physicians while others discredited this theory on the basis that some very hot summers were free of cholera. Dr. John Esten Cooke of Transylvania University associated the causes of cholera ,vith the causes of miasmatic or malarial fever. "In cities," he wrote, "those parts most favorable to the production of fevers, such as narrow dirty alleys and filthy suburbs in the neighborhood of marshy inlets, brick yards, standing water, etc., are also most productive of cholera infan tum. "23 Just how the filth in the streets produced illness is not made clear. Cooke mentions "gas from decaying 88 ANTE-BELLUM KENTUCKY masses" which, he believed, caused an accumulation of blood in the "interior veins" and in the liver.2 4 Because the medical profession did not understand cholera it could not prescribe \Vith any degree of certainty. Calomel in large doses was considered the best treatment. Cooke believed that the patient should be given as much calomel as he could take and many other doctors followed his leadership. Indeed, Cooke persuaded so many physicians in the South and West to adopt his therapeutical theories that he became the leader of a widespread school of thought which was frequently referred to as Cookeism. Cooke gave the same medicine for all illnesses: a compound of rhubarb, calomel, and aloes made up as pills. These became known as "Cooke's Pills," or "RCA" pills. The pills, a few other drugs, and the lancet constituted his entire equipment, and had he not been afraid of ptyalism it seems evident that he would have used calomel to the exclusion of all other drugs. As it was, he lost many patients who died of "mercury poison. " 25 Cooke became "the grand high priest of calomel" and in pre­ scribing it he was not guided by grains but by the effect it pro­ duced. He was known to give cholera victims tablespoonful doses of calomel. In one instance he poured a pound of the drug down a patient's throat within a period of twenty-four hours. Strangely enough the patient survived.26 Sometimes patients rebelled and refused to take the pre­ scription recommended by the doctor. For the willful patient Cooke preferred pills to liquids. He placed the pills on a dry spoon, gave the patient a little water, held the head back and poured the pills down the throat. In this way he could administer six pills at a time without the patient being conscious of the num­ ber "even though he were occasionally vomiting."27 Cal om el was in general use for fevers of all types in the first half of the nineteenth century although it was gradually going out of favor in the forties and the use of it in great quantities was frowned on by the more progressive members of the profes­ sion as early as the thirties.28 Even Cooke had some original touches in his treatment of malaria although in the end he always resorted to his favorite mercurial compounds. He asserted, for example, that intermittent fever (malaria) could be checked LANCET, PILL AND SCA.PEL by a brisk ,valk an hour or two before the expected chill. An­ other recommended procedure called for the patient to bore a hole in a tree, drive a wooden pin into it, and then run home ,vithout stopping! 29 Cooke did not approve of the tonics used by other doctors in the treatment of malaria and he refused to use quinine. In the early days of his practice he used a "satur­ ated solution of arsenic" but he gave this up gradually and re­ lied on cal om el alone. 30 "By giving ten grains of calomel two hours before the time of the expected chill," he wrote, "it has been prevented entirely. " 31 Cooke's pills were responsible for some remarkable "cures." For example, there was a lady with a bad headache, weak pulse, and flushed face. After the diagnosis, Cooks gave her an emetic which strengthened the pulse. Then he bled her and gave her a large dose of calomel. She was bled twice more during the day and she lost blood during the night. In the morning she was resting comfortably. 32 So powerful were these pills that they could even make cross eyes straight! According to Cooke's records, an old man came to see the doctor and complained about his poor vision. His left eye turned toward his nose so that he could not see anything before him and his nose was so large that he could not see sideways. The right eye was turned away from the nose so that he could not walk forward without turning his head to the left. This, naturally, became uncomfonable and it was only with difficulty that he walked the streets. Cooke gave him some pills which he took "for a long time." When he stopped taking the medicine he could look with his right eye directly forward. The left eye, declared Cooke, "was still a little oblique. "33 Apparently there was no ailment that the "RCA" pills would not cure or definitely improve. It was administered for palpita­ tions of the hean, confusion of intellect, emaciation, jaundice, pain in the back, tuberculosis, cholera, sore throat, all the fevers, epilepsy, and apoplexy.34 Cooke was generous with his pills and habitually left a dozen of them on the bedside table to be taken by the patient during the night. This was the equivalent to twelve to twenty-four grains of calomel depending on the size of the pills. The doctor believed that unless the patient took "enough to effect the purpose" he might as well not take any. 90 ANTE-BELLUi\tl KENTUCKY Son1e of his patients took half an ounce of calo1nel daily for months before the desired "cure" ,vas achieved. To the critics who declared that taking drugs in such large doses over a long period of time was habit f ~rming and con­ sequently undesirable, Cooke replied: "The substance of the objection is, that the patient will by the use of carthartics, fall into such a state of body, that they will become necessary to relieve him. But this is already his situation, and he has to choose between suffering and using the means of relief in his power."35 For nearly a quarter of a century Cookeism exerted extensive influence in the Southwest. The simplicity of the system had its appeal and the converts ,vere legion. At this time, the young physician just entering the field of medicine was inclined to be confused by the "authoritative," but contradictory, opinions on the same diseases presented to him in the text books and class rooms. Each authority was likely to claim that his method was the truly scientific one. How consoling it must have been for the rather mediocre medical student to find a comparatively simple method for all ills via the Cooke technique. The evidence indicates that patients in the South,vest were "pilled" to death. Writing in 184 7, Dr. Elisha Bartlett, who at that time held the same chair at Transylvania that Cooke had occupied at an earlier date, described Cookeism as a preposterous pathological theory and the legitimate offspring of a bastard philosophy.36 Two decades later, Samuel Gross told a Phila­ delphia audience that the "RCA" pill "slew its thousands of victims, and caused the destruction of innumerable lips, cheeks, teeth, and jaw-bones, the result of the horrible ptyalism so com­ mon in those days. "37 In spite of his methods Cooke was not a charlatan or a quack. He was quite sincere in considering himself a scientist. He made his mistake, of course, in attempting to reduce the complexities of physiology and human disease into simple generalities. Start­ ing with false premises, the pathological structure which he built upon them was destined to crumble under the searching light of practical science. However, it should be said to his credit that he took his own medicine. While Cooke was considered the champion prescriber of calo­ mel, one of his colleagues at Transylvania, Dr. Charles Caldwell LANCET, PILL AND SCAPEL (1772-1853) was almost as generous ,vith the san1e purgative. Cald,vell was endo\ved with an excessively active mind and gifted ,vith oratorical and literary ability, but he never becarne a profound teacher of medicine because of his devotion to phre­ nology. 38 He is n1entioned here because some ,vriters have indi­ cated that he might have been the founder of the cult of phre­ nologists. There seems to be no proof that he sired this pseudo­ scientific philosophy, although he ,vas one of the outstanding American practitioners and because of his connections with the University of Pennsylvania and with Transylvania, he brought some distinction to the new school of thought. There is some evidence that indicates that even before he became a member of the fugitive group that deserted Lexington for Louisville in 1837 he was beginning to be regarded as a faker by Transylvania students, and the students and faculty of the University of Louisville eventually came to the same conclusion. 39 One of Caldwell's severest critics was Dr. Daniel Drake who was described by one of his contemporaries as "that bird of pas­ sage, Drake," because he \Vas associated with so many medical schools in the Ohio Valley. Drake himself al\vays looked upon Cincinnati as his headquarters, but since he spent his childhood in Maysville, lived several years in Lexington, and was connected with the U niv&sity of Louisville when he collected the material for his monumental book on the diseases of the Mississippi Val­ ley, he may be considered a legitimate character in the history of Kentucky science. Drake accepted a chair at the University of Louisville in 40 1 8 39 and soon thereafter he began the great task of this life, his study of inland diseases, a project that took him into remote places scattered from the Canadian border to the Gulf. In his own words he "prosecuted an extensive course of personal in­ quiry into the causes and cure of the diseases of the interior of the continent ... Journeying by day, and journeying by night, on the water and on the land ... struggling through the matted rushes where the Mississippi mi!lgles with the Gulf . . . camping with Indians and Canadian boatmen under the pines and birches of Lake Superior. . . .41 Drake was interested in every phase of human endeavor, and he made observations from Vera Cruz to the Hudson Bay 92 ANTE-BELLUM KENTUCKY country. He talked with physicians, planters, and overseers in the Deep South. He gathered information from tean1sters on the dusty Chihuahua trails and f ram salt makers on the shores of Onondaga Lake. He studied measles, scarlet fever, tetanus, dy­ sentery, black tongue, yello,v fever, croup, pneumonia, malaria, cholera, sanitation, labor conditions, and race amalgamation. He observed slaves and dirt eaters, white men, Indians, and Esqui­ maux. 42 The result of this widespread project was his encyclo­ pedic book A Systenzatic Treatise on the Principal Diseases of the Interior Valley of North America, which in some respects is still regarded as authoritative. 43 One of the non-technical and more interesting sections of this large study was devoted to a discussion of physical educa­ tion and hygiene. Young men, he believed, would enjoy more perfect health and would live longer if they exercised daily. This exercise might be secured by engaging in formal games and sports or by horseback riding, swimming, and walking. Manual labor would accomplish the same purpose. Drake was concerned over the poor health of the female pop­ ulation. "In slave holding states, and in our cities generally," he declared, "women, who are not compelled to labor, experience many infirmities, which are the consequence of bodily indolence and inactivity, some of which in the end prove fatal."44 He ad­ mitted that many girls and young women attended dancing schools and dancing parties but he did not consider ballroom dancing good exercise. It involved too much amusement and not enough muscular exertion and the bad air, corsets, and tight­ waisted dresses would offset what benefits might result f ram the exercise. Furthermore, nervous women were "injured by the music so long acting upon them" and they were liable to eat and drink too much between numbers.45 Convinced that dancing was only a social grace, Drake recom­ mended a physical training program for young women which included outside exercise. He approved of girls learning to swim but at the time thought that it was more fashionable to be utterly helpless in the water. The attitude of mothers on the subject of swimming lessons for their daughters may be summed up in the familiar ditty: LANCET, PILL AND SCAPEL 93 Mother may I go out to swim? Yes, my darling daughter; Hang your clothes on a hickory limb, But don't go near the water. l\;lonumental books and treatises made impressions on the medical profession, but the public mind remained skeptical with respect to the curing ability of the physician. The doctor pre­ scribed what he hoped would be effective, but the results were not immediately noticeable. The patient and his relatives and friends could not see, nor imagine, the internal action of the drugs and not being able to see they became impatient and lost faith. On the other hand the surgeon was given some recogni­ tion by even those who condemned the profession as a whole. The methods en1ployed were more tangible and the results more obvious. Admiration for surgeons was well founded in Kentucky where the people could boast of such skillful operators as Bra­ shear, McDowell, Dudley, and Gross. Some of the operations performed by these men were unprecedented and since they worked without a knowledge of either bacteriology or anesthe­ tics their success seems remarkable. Amputations represented one of the most common types of surgery and accidents requiring this drastic type of treatment happened in almost every Kentucky community. Unfortun­ ately, in some cases amputation was resorted to when it was not necessary, and an arm or leg was sacrificed in order to satisfy the desire for notoriety on the part of the surgeon. In Louisville, where many accidents occurred in the foundries and along the water front, amputations were so frequent that the surgeons be­ came very proficient and not more than twenty seconds was allowed for the removal of an arm or a leg. Two cuts with the knife, a few strokes with the saw and the limb fell off. One of the most interesting amputations in Kentucky sur­ gical history was performed by Dr. Walter Brashear ( 1776- 1860) in Bardstown in I 806. The patient, a mulatto boy, had a fracture of the thigh with serious complications that made am­ putation necessary. Brashear had never amputated at the hip joint before and as the operation had never been performed in the United States he had no authorities to guide him. Similar 94 ANTE-BELLUM KENTUCKY operations had been performed a few years earlier in Europe, but the details were unknown in Kentucky. Brashear, therefore, was forced to rely entirely on his own ingenuity and surgical skill. He decided to divide the operation into two parts. First he amputated a large portion of the thigh in the ordinary man­ ner. The second phase of the operation consisted of removing the remainder of the bone from the muscles. This was accom­ plished by means of a long incision on the outside limb followed by disarticulation at the socket. 46 The patient came through the ordeal in good condition, made a rapid recovery, and lived to a ripe old age. Although Bra­ shear's method was not considered orthodox later in the century, he was given credit for performing successfully the first op­ eration of its kind in the United States. Another pioneer surgeon, Ephraim McDowell (1771-1830) brought distinction to himself and to the state by introducing ovariotomy. Fresh from a stimulating course at the University of Edinburgh, young McDowell opened his Danville, Kentucky, office in 1795 and within a few years he was enjoying a lucrative practice. From the beginning of his medical career he preferred surgery to therapeutics, believing that the use of drugs was more of a curse than a blessing to the human race. Surgery he de­ scribed as "the certain branch of the healing art,"47 and his as­ sociation with Dr. John Bell, a well-known surgeon of Scotland, had given him the courage and the scientific imagination to at­ tempt an operation which was unexampled in medical history. He performed this operation for the first time in December, 1 809. The patient, Jane Crawford, was a woman in her early thirties who had such a large tumor that the family doctor be­ lieved that she was in the last stage of pregnancy. When called in as a consultant, McDowell gave the correct diagnosis and arrangements were completed for the operation although public opinion was skeptical. This operation has been fictionized so often that is seems ad­ visable to present the facts as they were recorded in the proceed­ ings of the Kentucky State Medical Society in 18 5 2. The wound was made on the left side of the median line, some dis­ tance from the outer edge of the straight muscle, and was nine inches in length. As soon as the incision was completed the intestines rushed out LANCET, PILL AND SCAPEL 95 upon the table, and so completely ,vas the abdomen filled by the tumor that they could not be replaced during the operation, which was finished in twenty-five minutes. In consequence of its great bulk, Dr. McDowell was obliged to puncture it before it could be removed. . . . The sack weighed seven pounds and a half and contained :fifteen pounds of turbid, gelatinous looking substance.48 The incision was brought together with adhesive strips and within twenty-five days the patient was reported in good health. She lived to be seventy-nine years old. For many years after this operation there was some doubt in the minds of American and foreign doctors with respect to priority. Kentuckians were the first to be convinced and by the third quarter of the nineteenth century even the most skepical were ready to acknowledge McDo'\vell as the pioneer ovario­ tomist. Speaking before the American Medical Association in 1874, Dr. Paul Eve, the well known Tenne~ee surgeon, as­ serted that to McDowell "without now the shadow of a doubt, we owe the origins of the most hazardous, delicate, and wonder­ fully successful operation in gynaecology."49 McDowell himself made no claim to priority and sought no special recognition. In all probability he never dreamed that his tumor operation was to cause so much discussion among Ameri­ can and European surgeons. As a matter of fact the McDowell technique had been discredited and all but abandoned because of the high mortality rate associated with the operation in Eng­ land when another Kentucky doctor, Joshua Taylor Bradford ( 1817-1870) revived it. Bradford proved conclusively that Mc­ Dowell's ideas were scientifically sound. In the Kentucky area McDowell's reputation did not rest en­ tirely on his skill as an ovariotimist. He ranked high in the pro­ fession as a lithotomist and for a time was almost alone in this field in Kentucky. In later years he was over-shadowed in this branch of surgery by Benjamin Dudley. McDowell was inter­ ested in hernia and he performf:!d many cures by means of sur­ gery and the use of trusses. His reputation in this connection was widespread and patients came to him at Danville from all comers of Kentucky and from other states. One reason for his success was the fact that he never undertook an operation until ANTE-BELLUM KENTUCKY he was thoroughly familiar ,vith the case and until the patient had been properly conditioned for the ordeal. The same careful methods were practiced by Dr. Benjamin Dudley, (1785-1870), Transylvania's professor of anatomy and surgery, whose reputation as a surgeon was unrivaled in the West by 1830. About 1814 Dudley performed his first operation of lithotomy and as early as 1818 the local press was favorably comparing his work with the accomplishments of well-known British lithotomists. 50 By 1850 he had performed at least one hundred and fifty-three similar operations and only four cases failed to respond favorably to his treatment. 51 It was claimed by his colleagues that his success was based not only on his skill as an operator but on the careful "conditioning" he gave to each patient. In some cases the patient was given special treatment for several months before the operation and the after treat­ ment was equally solicitous. Chicken and bran broth were on the menu of each patient; also tartar emetic and calomel. 52 Dudley used the scalpel only for the initial incision. For the delicate part of the operation he preferred the gorget, an in­ strument invented by Henry Cline of London. In all his opera­ tions he used this instrument in only two sizes, one with a blade seven-tenths of an inch broad, the other with a blade eight-tenths of an inch broad. He never used the bistoury. 53 Dr. James M. Bush, professor of anatomy at Transylvania, closely observed Dudley's surgical technique on the operation of lithotomy and published his observations in the Transylvania Journal of Medicine and the Associate Sciences. 54 The following description of a Dudley operation is quoted from this report. 55

Until he [Dudley] is completely satisfied that all the organs are in the healthy performance of their various functions, he will not operate. When, however, it is believed that the patient is ready, having been once or more times sounded, he is placed on the table and tied; immediately the staff, being oiled, is introduced into the bladder, and left resting upon the stone; when the assistant grasps it firmly, to maintain it in the bladder, at the same time holding it perfectly perpendicular to the table, care­ fully avoiding any inclination of it to the right or left. The convexity of the instrument being distinctly left in the mesial line of the perineum, the operator, seated in a convenient chair, with his instruments spread on his right, proceeds to the operation. While the left hand controls the scrotum and perineum, the right makes an incision, with a middle size L.A.NCET, PILL A.KO SCAPEL 97 convex edge scalpel, beginning a little belovl the root of the scrotum, and terminating an inch, more or less, behind the verge of the anus, in a straight line, through a point midway benveen the verge of the anus and the inner edge of the left tuberischii. This cut divides skin, subcutaneous tissues, and perinea! fascia. The second stroke of the knife is not so ex­ tensive, it divides only the posterior fibres of the accellerator urinae, and transverse perinei muscles. Ahvays at this stage of the operation, if the perineun1 be remarkably concave, presenting an inclined plane, or if the arch of the pubis be very much contracted, Professor D. intro­ duces the left middle-finger into the rectum, and draws off the bowel to the right. The forefinger then placed in the wound conducts the scalpel through the membranous part of the urethra into the grove of the staff, cutting from the rectum towards the bulb. The scalpel is now laid aside and the gorget is taken up, the beautiful instrument of Mr. Cline; with its cutting edge toward the public arch; its beak is made to engage the groove of the staff, while the assistant resigns the latter to the surgeons left hand, who for an instant playing the two instru­ ments against each other, lateralizes the former, turning its cutting edge to the left, poises it a moment, perfectly horizontal, before he plunges through the prostrate into the bladder. At the same moment the gorget is passed with the right, the left hand depresses the handle of the staff; the bladder being opened, the staff is ,vithdra,vn, and the surgeon's fore­ finger of the left hand, directed by the gorget, is passed into the bladder and the instrument withdrawn; the wound in the neck is dilated, forceps introduced, the calculus seized, and by steady, firm, and dilatory move­ ments, from below upwards, and from side to side, the operation is completed by the extraction of the stone. The bladder is now cautiously explored with the scoop, and if found clear is filled with warm water from a syringe; the patient is untied, turned to his left side and thus put to bed, and is required to maintain the position from two to four days. We have seen Professor D. in making this operation, release his patient in forty seconds from the first incision, while upon other occa­ sions, twenty minutes were consumed before the extraction of an enormous calculus could be safely effected.

Dudley's reputation did not rest entirely on his bladder op­ erations. At a time when very little brain surgery \Vas attempted, he did not hesitate to trephine the skull for the relief of epilepsy caused by pressure on the brain.56 Between 1820 and 1828 he performed successfully five operations of this nature. In some cases he affected cures where other surgeons and physicians had given little, if any, hope. For example, in 18 2 5 a young man came to him after years of unsuccessful treatment by the family doctor. The patient had accidentally received a severe blow on ANTE-BELLUM KENTUCKY the head when he was five years old and thereafter suffered with severe headaches and ,vas subject to epileptic convulsions. After hearing the case history Dudley decided to operate. A small de­ pressed bone ,vas removed from the patient's skull and upon ex­ amination it was discovered that the extremity of the bone was tipped with a soft cartilage. 57 This splinter of bone had pene­ trated the dura mater and punctured an abnormally large sinus, from which issued a stream of blood "as thick as a man's little finger.'' 58 Before the dressing could be applied "an alarming convulsion came on" and a stream of blood shot from the opening in the dura mater. Two more convulsions of a similar nature occurred before the patient could be put to bed. After twelve hours the bloody discharges changed into a colorless serum which con­ tinued to flow so rapidly for two days that it was necessary to change the bedding two or three times daily. On the morning of the fourth day after the operation the dressings were dry and the wound was closed with adhesive plaster which was changed daily for a month. After a convalescence of six weeks the young man returned to his home in S?uth Carolina in perfect health. 59 Dudley was original in the use of the trephine in traumatic epilepsy. Even Dr. Samuel D. Gross, one of Dudley's severe critics, admitted this. 60 According to the Transactions of the Kentucky State Medical Society of 1852 Dudley's operations for the relief of epileptic conditions were the most instructive con­ tributions to the science of surgery in the first half of the nine­ teenth century. Although this statement is probably exaggerated it should not be overlooked. l\1ore impressive, however, is the fact that as recent as 1930 Dudley's original reports on his cases of trepheny were reprinted in the International Journal of Surg­ ery. Dudley did some good work on the ligation of arteries, es­ pecially in the neck. 61 Several sources claim that he was the first in Kentucky to perform the operation for securing the sub­ clavian artery. He himself claimed no distinction for this opera­ tion and in his lectures at Transylvania he seemed to base his knowledge of arteries on English and French authorities.62 But only his own skill can explain the fact that he could ligate an artery and then cut it with the loss of only a spoonful of blood.63 LANCET, PILL AND SCAPEL 99 In this operation, Dudley used silk for ligatures in preference to the lamb gut employed by some surgeons. Silk, he declared ,vas stronger and less cumbersome. For large blood vessels he used a single thread. 64 Dudley's contributions to surgical literature were limited, but from the few articles which he did publish it is possible to draw the conclusion that he had modern ideas about syphilis and that he gave special attention to the diseases of the testes. He was probably the first to discover and isolate encysted hydrocele ( about 18 18) described as a collection of fluid in a distinct cyst ,vi thin the tunica V aginalis. 65 While in Europe, he became interested in the possibilities of the bandage in the treatment of wounds and fractures and after his return to Kentucky he continued to experiment with the roller bandage until he became an expert in its use. Although accessible to all the bandage had been neglected in the United States and even after Dudley's successful use of it many phy­ sicians refused to accept it. Some of Dudley's students discred­ ited his methods after they left Transylvania because in their inexperienced hands the bandage did not perform the miracles they had been taught to expect and which they had actually seen performed by the masterful hands of their professor. "Pu­ pils of this school," declared one of the medical students in 1 846, "have gone forth dazzled with its ( the bandage) achievements in the hands of Professor Dudley, and have attempted its use without judgment . . . thereby failing in the first two or three attempts, have abandoned themselves to a cur-like abuse of it and its author."66 In addition to the group that belittled his success, Dudley had to face the professional plagiarists who attempted to claim all the credit for the improved use of the bandage. 67 Some of these men were graduates of rival medical schools and some were pro­ fessional failures who thought they could improve their own position by embarrassing the more successful physicians and surgeons. Usually they heaped ridicule upon themselves especial­ ly if they claimed the paternity of a method which the well in­ formed doctor knew had originated in Europe. Dudley himself never claimed the invention of the bandage nor did he claim that his use of compresses in the treatment of arteries was entirely 100 ANTE-BELLUM KENTUCKY original. His years of study and observation abroad had brought him into contact \Vith continental practices of this nature and \vhen he returned to America he simply revised them to n1eet his o,vn requirements or to satisfy his o,vn experimental desires. In an age of bitter con1petition and professional jealously it \Vas almost impossible for a scientist to live out his life without being the subject of vituperative criticism. Dudley did not es­ cape, even though it has been claimed with some justification that he enjoyed a widespread popularity.68 But the sources seem to indicate that he had enough initiative and imagination to be original and enough skill to make his ideas work successfully and this was enough to make less daring surgeons envious. It seems evident, too, that Dudley was not a saint, especially when he ,vas aroused sufficiently to take part in a professional feud. He was a typical representative of his times-an age in which the professional code of ethics was not sacred enough to prevent doctors from criticising each other publicly. On this point, Dudley's nephew, Ethelbert Dudley, who was a medical man himself, made an interesting observation. "I have learned to place little reliance," he said, "upon doctor's opinions of doc­ tors."69 About the time Dudley reached the peak of his career a surg­ eon arrived in Louisville who eventually was to surpass the Lex­ ington operator with his achievements. This was Samuel David Gross (1805-1884) who was associated with the Louisville Medical Institute (later the medical department of the U niver­ sity of Louisville) from 1840 to 1856.70 As a surgeon, Gross was skillful and resourceful. He was the first to use twisted sutures and collodions to bring the edges of a wound together and his operations for strabismus, vari­ cocele, stophyloraphy (injured intestines), and cataracts at­ tracted the attention of the medical profession as well as the public at large.71 Unlike Dudley, Gross enjoyed writing and consequently he has left a more complete record of his cases. The following quotation describes the reaction of a little girl to the world around her after Gross restored her sight by the re­ moval of cataracts.

It was interesting in this case to witness the joy which this girl ex- LANCET, PILL AND SCAPEL IOI perienced at beholding the different objects that \Vere, from time to time, presented to her notice. Things which she had long been accus­ tomed to distinguish by the sense of touch were, \vhen placed before her eyes, such entire strangers to her that she \Vas utterly unable to recog­ nize them. She had no definite ideas of form, color, bulk, or distance. The appearance of a cat or dog made the same impression upon the retina as that of an inanimate substance, as a pitcher, tumbler, or bottle. vVhen held before her eyes, she could not tell the difference but the moment she touched them she recognized them, and expressed her aston­ ishment.... Her delight on beholding the moon was unbounded, and this \Vas still further increased in a short time after "'·hen she \\i·as able on a clear night to distinguish the stars as they hung like living lamps upon the firmament, dazzling and be'\vildering her innocent and un­ sophisticated mind.72

Like many other surgeons, Gross was confronted with the mysteries of cancer and it is evident from his published works that he made an ambitious effort to isolate and describe the var­ ious types of malignancy. He did not believe in surgery in all cases of cancer, but under some conditions he found the knife proved beneficial. Experience taught him that malignancy of a local nature, if removed early, was not likely to recur pro­ vided the surgeon was careful to remove all the diseased tissue. "Not a particle of the least suspicious substance should be left behind," he declared, "skin, muscle, glands, vessels, nerves, and bone should all be sacrificed if necessary to the success of the operation. " 73 He had no confidence in surgery as a cure for scirrhus and encephaloid cancer, but he would operate for sutaneous cancer provided the disease was still localized and the general health of the patient was good. With respect to cancer of the mammary glands he declared that surgery was "utter futility" no matter how early and efficiently it was employed.74 He also discouraged the use of the knife in all cases of hereditary origin and he told his classes at the University of Louisville that to operate on the very young cancer victim would only quicken the progress of the disease. Gross believed that he was living in a transitional period in the history of cancer and he hoped that modern science and modem scientific instruments, especially chemistry and the microscope would soon throw new light on all malignant dis- 102 ANTE-BELLUM KENTUCKY orders. The past could offer little, although cancer cases had been reported by doctors since ancient times. But these reports were frequently of no value because they were either incomplete or inaccurate. Consequently there was a need for more accurate observation and more complete case histories. Gross was a\vare of the perplexities that grew out of diagnostic difficulties and this of course could in turn be traced to the incomplete and con­ tradictory medical records which the nineteenth century phy­ sician had inherited. Very few doctors, regardless of their train­ ing and experience, could discriminate with certainty between the malignant and non-malignant disorders in the early stages of development.75 In Louisville Gross firmly established his reputation as a teach­ er and scientist. His capacity for work was remarkable and his many publications based upon extensive research proved that he was sincere when he told his students that it was "better to wear out than to rust out." Soon after he established himself in Louisville, he started a series of experiments on dogs to deter­ mine as accurately as possible the nature of intestinal wounds and to test the value of several methods of treatment which had been recommended by European and American doctors. The results of these experiments, were published originally in The Western Journal of Medicine and Surgery in 1843.76 Later in the same year a more complete report was published by Prentice and Weissinger of Louisville under the title An Experimental and Critical Inquiry into the Nature and Treatment of Wounds of the Intestines. At the time, an injury to any pan of the alimentary canal presented a perplexing problem to the average surgeon, although such cases were not uncommon. The chief difficulty was the lack of literature on the subject. The only information in English accessible to the practitioner was to be found in the brief and inadequate treatments in periodicals and text books. Indeed, some text books did not even mention the subject. With this study, there£ore, Gross hoped to fill an unfortunate gap in sur­ gical literature and according to the reviews in American and British journals he achieved his objective.77 Following the publication of his book on the intestines, Gross settled down to a decade of intensive study, research, and ex- LANCET, PILL AND SCAPEL 103 perin1entation. Then in quick succession he published three monographs. The first appeared in 1851 with the title A Prac­ iical Treatise on tbe Disease and Injuries of tbe Urinary Bladder, tbe Prostate Gland, and the Urethra. 78 This book immediately outmoded earlier publications dealing with the same diseases 79 and for many years was considered the most complete and well organized study of its kind. By 1856 medical journals were recognizing Gross as "a high American Authority" on diseases of the bladder and prostate gland. 80 Typical of the recognition given the book in the first edition was the revie,v in the Western Lancet.

The author of the treatise before us has been quite fortunate, both for himself and the profession, in the selection of the diseases and in­ juries of the urinary bladder, prostate gland, and urethra, as the subjects of a monograph. The disease and injuries of these parts, as all know, are quite common, and at times intractable; and the practitioner who had not devoted special attention to surgery, too often finds himself without a guide, or is compelled to rely on the different articles scattered through many volumes, and not unfrequently altogether inaccessible. 81

In 1853, Gross published The Results of Surgical Operations in Malignant Diseases, and in 1854 A Practical Treatise on Foreign Bodies in the Air-Passages. The latter was an octavo vol­ ume of four hundred and sixty-eight pages and was the result of his own observations, the experiences of his professional friends, and omni£arious reading in European and American 82 journals. · The British and Foreign 1l1.edical-Chirurgical Review pronounced it an excellent study and declared that the medical profession owed Dr. Gross a vote of thanks for such a practical contribution. Gross, however, was not looking for professional bouquets and declared that he would be amply repaid if the book proved "instrumental in saving the life of one human being, or even in ameliorating the suffering of a single individual. " 83 In preparing this treatise, the first step was the collection of the scattered facts. The second step consisted of an analysis and comparison of the facts. Finally the author deduced general and particular conclusions which were presented under the fol­ lovving topics: nature of the foreign bodies in the air passage, air passages, symptomatology, diagnosis, pathology, and treat- 104 ANTE-BELLUM KENTUCKY ment. The foreign substances vvhich had been known to clog the respiratory system were all mentioned and arranged in classes according to their composition, that is, vegetable, animal, min­ eral, and mixed. Under mixed substances Gross listed lead pen­ cils and false teeth "with their blocks and pivots." In the ,vest and South, according to Gross, grains and seeds such as corn, melon and cotton seeds, were inhaled n1ost frequently although there were peculiar cases of partial suffocation caused by cockle burs, pieces of wood, and bullets. \Vith respect to treatment Gross objected to the use of emet­ ics, vvhich was a common remedy, on the basis that their effects increased the difficulty of breathing without expelling the ob­ ject lodged in the windpipe. He discouraged also inversion of the body or beating on the chest unless an opening was made in the windpipe. Bronchotomy, he believed, afforded the best chance of relief. Unless complications were present the opera­ tion should be performed as early as possible and always with the aid of chloroform. If the obstruction in the windpipe did not appear at the incision a short time after the operation then the patient was turned upside down and his chest struck with a pillow. If this failed, the doctor searched for the obstruction with forceps or hooks. "But all such attemepts," declared Gross, "should be made in the most gentle manner, nor should they be prolonged beyond a few seconds at a time, inasmuch as they almost invariably excite violent coughing and suffocative feel­ ings."84 When the extraneous substance in the windpipe could not be removed with instruments the incision in the neck was held open for several hours by means of blunt hooks. This was supposed to encourage extrusion. The hooks were made of silver about half an inch wide and were secured to the neck with elastic tape. But while the wound \Vas open there was always danger of in­ fection from flies and dirt and nothing could be more discourag­ ing in an operation of this type than to have a fly added to the obstruction already in the air passages. To prevent such an ~c­ cident, Gross suggested that the outer wound be covered with a piece of gauze arranged in the shape of a bag to prevent the ingress of insects and flying dust particles. Some surgeons, in order to dispose of the necessity of using LANCET, PILL AND SCAPEL 105 the silver hooks, recommended the removal of a small piece of the windpipe on each side of the incision. Although this method had actually been used by reputable surgeons, Gross considered it unscientific and declared that it was liable to lead to a perman­ ent contraction of the tube. To close the incision, Gross approved the twisted sumre, a method which he himself popularized. However, he did not dis­ miss the case the minute the needle was removed from the flesh but instead he emphasized the necessity of careful observation during the period of convalescence as the danger of infection was always present.85 It seems that this book represented the first attempt to sys­ tematize existing knowledge on obstructions in the air passages and for this reason alone it has been considered as a pioneer work. The fact that it remained an authority for nearly half a century indicates that it was well received and that it was, for the times, an exhaustive study. 86 Its usefulness was greatly im­ paired by the invention of the bronchoscope. After sixteen years in Louisville, from October, 1840, to September, 1856, Gross was emerging as a national figure in medicine and surgery and he was becoming restless and eager for new fields of endeavor. In 18 5 5 he was offered a position at the University of Pennsylvania, but declined to accept it on the basis that his income at the University of Louisville was more than the salary promised by the Philadelphia school. The fol­ lowing year he was offered the chair of surgery at his alma mater, Jefferson Medical College, and after some consideration he accepted. After his arrival in Philadelphia he began to synthesize into one monumental work the results of his surgical experiences and experiments at Cincinnati and Louisville. The first edition of this book was published in 1859 with the title A System of Surg­ ery, Pathological, Diagnostic, Therapeutic, and Operative. The first edition appeared in two volumes containing a total of two thousand three hundred and sixty pages and hur:dreds of wood cuts. It has been described as the greatest single treatment of surgery published in the United States in the nineteenth century and no doubt was responsible for elevating Gross to the presi­ dency of the American Medical Association in 1 868. 106 ANTE-BELLUM KENTUCKY It is difficult to estimate the progress made in the medical sciences in Kentucky in the ante-bellum period, but it may be said that in general the professional progress in the state was as rapid as it was in the nation at large. Obviously, the most valu­ able contributions were made in surgery. In this field, Kentucky seemed to have more than her share of skillful and ingenious operators. However, with respect to prophylaxis as well as therapeutics, medicine in 1860 was only a few steps ahead of the 1800 status. The Kentucky death records gave adequate proof that the doctors had much to learn. From 18 5 2 to 1857 Kentucky lost annually over eight thousand of its citizens and the maj­ ority of this number were carried off by epidemics. In 185 4 there were 2,260 deaths from dysentery alone and the annual death toll from typhoid was often over the one thousand mark.87 However, in 1858 there was a marked improvement with respect to dysent­ ery and typhoid and by the 187o's both diseases were on the de­ cline. On the other hand, deaths from pneumonia increased after I 858. CHAPTER VI

FLORA, FAUNA, AND TEST TUBES

HILE PERHAPS medicine received more than its share of supporters other sciences including botany, Wgeology, and chemistry were not neglected in Kentucky. Nat­ ural science was in the fact-finding and classification stage. Cer­ tain individuals such as Constantine Rafinesque, Robert Peter, J. La\vrence Smith, and Lunsford Pitts Yandell made new factual contributions and at the same time utilized the knowledge and the specimens already at hand for purposes of classification, ob­ servation, and experimentation. Furthermore, an attempt was made by the more capable naturalists in the state to arrive at certain generalizations and basic principles in those cases where natural laws had not already been formulated. The chemists went a step farther and applied their skills and their knowledge to medicine, geology, biology, agriculture, and even crimin­ ology. Because of the unlimited opportunities existing in the unex­ plored forests and meadows of the Ohio Valley it was natural that early scientists in the area, such as Andre and Fran~ois Michaux, were, primarily, collectors and classifiers of plant life. The Michaux made two excursions into the Ohio Valley before r 800, and in 1 80 r F ran~ois Michaux was commissioned by the French government to return to America to complete his botanical studies. He spent two years in the Carolinas, Tennes­ see, and Kentucky and cooperated with many local scientists including those at Transylvania University.1 Michaux was fol­ lowed by other European botanists including Frederick Pursh, Abbe Correa de Serra, and others of lesser fame. A close study of the contributions of these scientists indicates that they did little more than open the field. Their published works, while yaluable, represent only the first chapter in the history of Amer­ ican botany. But these explorers are important in another sense. They stimulated a local interest in plant life, and before r 8 35 108 ANTE-BELLUM KENTUCKY Kentucky flora was being studied by a number of enthusiastic amateur and professional scientists. Some of this ,vork was superficial and inaccurate. There was a tendency on the pan of some of the botanists to be too hasty with classifications and too sketchy with descriptions. The fact that the work of predecessors was often ignored added to the confusion. A'lany of the discoveries and observations were pub­ lished in obscure journals and newspapers and this increased the difficulties involved in the task of formulating permanent and accurate classifications. Two of the most active botanists were Charles Wilkins Shon (1794-1863) and Robert Peter (1805-1894) who made "many a long and solitary ride" through the "natural :flower-gardens" 2 of the Kentucky Barrens. · Their findings were described in care­ fully written repons that were published in the Transylvania Journal of Medicine and the Associate Sciences. Peter developed his own method of preserving plant specimens. The fact that many items from his original herbarium are still intact gives evidence of the success of his process. Perhaps the most versatile-certainly the most colorful­ scientist who worked in the Kentucky area ,vas Constantine Rafinesque ( 178 3-1 840). On one occasion in 182 3, at a time when he was professor of natural sciences at Transylvania Uni­ versity, Rafinesque informed the board of trustees that he was prepared to teach botany, geology, agriculniral chemistry, min­ eralogy, zoology, comparative anatomy, physiology, horticul­ ture, meteorology, astronomy, French, Italian, and Spanish! 3 Such versatility was, in reality, a handicap to Rafinesque, but in spite of his many interests he made a valuable contribution to American botanical and zoological knowledge. Most of his important ,vork was accomplished between 18 19 and 182 5 when he was living in Kentucky. The list of botanical species now credited to him is impressive. In the fields and timber lands of the Ohio Valley he discovered at least thiny-seven species of plants including three species of pondweed, two of ironweed, a new sunflower, and a new type of goldenrod. His desire to find new plants was unquenchable and when he made a new discovery he was likely to express himself ex­ uberantly. On one occasion his friend, John James Audubon, FLORA FAUNA, AND TEST TUBES 109 showed him a clump of plants that ,vere new to him. According to Audubon, Rafinesque was so delighted that "he plucked the plants one after another, danced, hugged me in his arms and ex­ ultantly told me that he had found not merely a new species but a new genus. " 4 He exhibited the same enthusiasm when in 18 24 he launched his plan to establish a botanical garden in Lexington. The gar­ den was to have greenhouses, aviaries, bowers, a museum, a library and "many other suitable ornaments. "5 He planned to exhibit his private herbarium -of over 50,000 specimens. 6 In ad­ dition, lectures on botany, agriculture, and domestic economy were to be given at regular intervals for a small admission fee. \Vith his usual energy he petitioned the legislature for a charter, solicited subscriptions, and bought a ten-acre lot in Lexington where, in i\1arch, 182 5, he started to plant his seeds and shrubs. Soon however, he became aware of "a secret hostility" to his undertaking, which was in reality professional jealousy and he was forced to abandon this interesting enterprise. In the field of zoology Rafinesque was the first to describe thirty-six genera of clams and freshwater mussels which he found in the tributaries of the Ohio River. The vivacious nat­ uralist was surprised and charmed to discover so many new species of shell :fish west of the Appalachian watershed. "It ap­ peared," he declared, "that the chain of the Allegheny moun­ tains, which separated the two countries, formed also a line of demarkation between the fishes and the shells of the waters of the basin of the Ohio and those of the waters which empty into the Atlantic Ocean. "7 Modem ichthyologists agree that with the fishes and shells Rafi.nesque was pioneering in a relatively new fauna and that his contributions were of permanent value. Among the vertebrate animals Rafinesque was the first to de­ scribe a species of mole, a species of bat, a species of mountain lion, and two species of wildcat. In addition, he properly clas­ sified the white-£ooted deer mouse, the prairie dog, the flying squirrel, the mountain goat, and many common species of sal­ amanders and newts. 8 In addition to fish and animals, Rafinesque, like Audubon, was interested in birds and he spent many hours observing their habits and classifying and describing new species. His interest I IO ANTE-BELLUM KENTUCKY in birds was purely scientific. Audubon's interests were primar­ ily artistic. Rafinesque was the ornithologist while Audubon \Vas the naturist and the artist. Perhaps authorities will never entirely agree on the proper classification of Audubon's pecul­ iar talents but whatever he was, artist, ornithologist, naturist, he created an intensified interest in birds. No doubt there were men and \vomen who first looked upon his drawings with startled eyes, expecting the birds to fly right off the page. Audubon's Birds of Anzerica brought him international fame. This monumental work contained four hundred and thirty-five copper plate engravings printed on double-elephant foiio in eighty-seven numbers. These pictures have stood the test of time and were republished for the American book trade in r94r.9 They represent Audubon's genius, his physical energy, indeed, the entire adventure that was his career. Botany and zoology did not monopolize the interests of Ken­ tucky's natural scientists for there was interesting work done in the fields of astronomy, paleontology, chemistry, and geology. There were dozens of amateurs who "studied" the movements of the planets and stars and who tried to f onnulate reasonable theories to explain astronomical phenomena. Star gazers and front-porch observers reported in great detail to the local press the strange sights which they watched in the sky. Meteorites with Roman candle sparks, sun spots visible to the naked eye, the strange behavior of the moon, and many other "uncommon sights" were described by the unofficial reporters of the country newspapers. The most challenging astronomical research was done by J. Lawrence Smith who became a member of the teaching staff of the University of Louisville in r 8 54. In 185 5 he published a fifteen-thousand word article on meteorites, in which he pre­ sented a theoretical discussion of the origin of the strange rocks from beyond the earth. After considering other theories ad­ vanced by his contemporaries and earlier astronomers, Smith presented his view that all meteorites originated on the moon. He stated five points which gave strength to his theory:

r. That all meteoric masses had a community of origin. 2. At one period they formed parts of some large body. FLORA FAUNA, AND TEST TUBES I I I

3. They had all been subject to a more or less prolonged igneous ac- tion, corresponding to that of terrestrial volcanoes. 4. That their source must be deficient in oxygen. 5. That their average specific gravity was about that of the moon.10 Lacking definite proof, Smith was content to refer to the n1oon as the "assumed origin," but he asserted that it could not be doubted from what scientists kne,v of the satellite that it was "in all liklihood constructed of such matter as composes meteoric stones."11 Smith's collection of meteorites was recognized as one of the finest in the United States. The nucleus of this collection was Gerard Troost's cabinet of iron meteorites which Smith pur­ chased after Troost's death in Nashville in 1850. From all parts of the world, but especially from the United States and Mexico, Smith gathered so many of the fantastic metallic shapes that once had flashed across the sky that at the time of his death he pos­ sessed at least two hundred and fifty specimens. Just before his death in 188 3 Smith sold his entire collection to Harvard Uni­ vers1ty. The study of paleontology ,vas stimulated in Kentucky by the rich deposits of fossil specimens in the outcropping rock strata. Rafinesque, Robert Peter, Lunsford Pitts Yandell ( 1805- 1878), and others showed at least a sporadic interest in fossils. Yandell in particular made some interesting observations on crinoids. He collected specimens from Ohio, Indiana, Iowa, Il­ linois, Missouri, Tennessee, Alabama, and Kentucky. By 18 5 1 he had discovered thirty-eight new genera and two hundred and thirteen species.12 Twelve genera and one hundred and fifty species had been taken from the carboniferous system alone. The Devonian rocks yielded ten genera and seventeen species, the upper Silurian ten genera and forty species, and the lower Silurian six genera and six species. It seems evident that Yandell was well informed on the sub­ ject of European geology and paleontology and this knowledge made his work in America all the more interestiag for him. He considered the analogy between certain crinoids of Russia, Swe­ den, and England and those of Kentucky and Tennessee one of the most striking features of his researches. He was exceedingly cautious when making comparisons and he was aware of the dan- I I 2 ANTE-BELLUiv1 KENTUCKY ger in making decisions as to the identity or diversity of species bearing a close resemblance to each other. Consequently, while many analogies were carefully traced, he usually preferred to conclude that "examples of identity are still doubtful. " 13 .A.s other geologists had done before him, Yan dell noticed the limited verticle range of the crinoids in the 1\1:ississippi Valley and he asserted that not one of the species occurred in more than one formation. For the most part, he reported, each species \Vas contained in a thin and well-defined stratum, beyond the borders of which it was seldom traced. Because of this limited range, Yandell believed that the crinoids were more valuable in pre­ cisely marking the limits of geological systems than any other fossils. With respect to the habits of the crinoids, about which there was considerable scientific speculation at the time, Yandell was satisfied that they were carnivorous. On one of his earliest ex­ peditions he f ou.nd an encrinite with an acroculia between its "fingers" as if it had been about to eat when it died. In the course of his work he examined several specimens of crinoidia with gasteropods and other articles of food in such a position as to indicate meal time for these tiny prehistoric organisms.14 In the early decades of the nineteenth century chemistry was becoming intimately associated with the industrial arts and agriculture. It became the ally of the physicist, the doctor, the biologist, the health officials, the farmer, and the geologist. The more progressive scientists in Kentucky were well aware of this utilitarian aspect of chemistry and they were beginning to serve the social needs of the state in many different ways. Well water and springs were analyzed, minerals and coals were tested for purity, and experiments were made in the use of various disin­ fectants, including chlorine. Physicians were often too busy to make their own pills or to analyze samples of urine and in this connection the chemist became indispensable to the medical pro­ fession. Even murder mysteries entered the laboratory. To an­ alyze the contents of a stomach for a coroner's inquest or to examine bloody clothes offered as evidence in a murder trial became routine business for the men with chemical equipment and the knowledge and experience needed to use it to advantage. One of the most promising developments in Kentucky was the FLORA FAUNA, AND TEST TUBES 113 realization that chemistry could become the handmaiden of agriculture. A utilitarian study of the chemistry of soils, miner­ als, and vegetables was advocated by numerous farmers, farm journals, and college professors. The idea was growing that the land should be scientifically cared for, that earth, like cattle or human beings, must be fed if it were to continue to produce. And it could be properly fed only after a careful chemical an­ alysis. The most persistent advocate of soil analysis, crop rotation, and the use of artificial fertilizer was Robert Peter, Transylvan­ ia's professor of chemistry from 18 3 3 to 1860. He advertised his ideas on agronomy in the class room, in the lecture hall, and through the press, but his real opportunity came in 18 54 when he was appointed chief chemist to the first state geological sur­ vey. Before mid-century there had been no organized attempt to produce a complete scientific picture of Kentucky's agri­ cultural and mineral resources. However, in 1853, the combined agricultural societies of the state brought pressure to bear on the legislature in the form of a petition. This document, which was actually written by Peter, was so effectively worded that the general assembly reacted favorably and in 1854 David Dale Owen (1807-1860) of New Harmony, Indiana, was appointed director of the proposed geological survey. Sidney Lyon, of Louisville, was chosen foreman of the topographical corps and Peter, as mentioned, became chief chemist. Owen had had valuable experiences as a geologist and Lyon \Vas well-trained and dependable, but the efficiency of both men \Vas reduced by poor health. Consequently, there were times when Peter was forced to accept more responsibility than he had expected at the time of his appointment. During the six-year period ( 185 4-1860) when Peter conducted the department of chemical analyses, he made more than eleven hundred quanti­ tative anaylses of soils, sub-soils, rocks, minerals, ores, coals, and vegetable ashes. The results were reported at length in the four volumes devoted to the geological survey wihch were pub­ lished by the state. Since there was no one else to do it, Peter personally supervised the publication of these volumes, reading and correcting all the proof sheets.15 The survey met with numerous obstacles in addition to the 114 ANTE-BELLUM KENTUCKY physical disabilities suffered by Owen and Lyon. Perhaps the chief difficulty was financial. The legislature continued to pro­ fess an interest in the project but not to the point of appro­ priating the necessary funds when needed the most. The topo­ graphical corps in particular was handicapped by a lack of equipment and Lyon suffered many disappointments. "I have had a dog's life of it for want of funds," he wrote in a letter to Peter in March, 1858.16 Accidents due to inclement weather took their toll. On sev­ eral occasions chronometers, transit theodolites, and other in­ struments were damaged in the field. High water and low water delayed shipments of equipment intended for the camps. The work of the entire staff was seriously affected by desertions and by accidental death. Then too, it seems evident that the burden on the topographical chief was increasing by Owen's careless­ ness in the field. Peter's work was delayed from time to time for various rea­ sons. On one occasion mineral and rock specimens were lost when a river boat was wrecked. On another occasion a shipment of soils was ruined by an expressman. Specimens from the field were lost in transit over flooded roads or were not shipped at all on account of illness in the survey camps. All the trouble, however, was not in the field. There were publishing problems, too, such as the explosion that wrecked the establishment where the reports were being printed.17 Considering all the difficulties the survey was quite successful and the published reports were well received by American scientists. Peter's contributions in particular received high praise. Benjamin Silliman thought the reports bore the marks "of as­ siduous and honorable industry, especially on the part of the chemist."18 James D. Dana described the reports as "excellent." However the reaction to Peter's quantitative analyses of soils was not always complimentary and some scientists refused to believe that he had done all the work himself. While the number and thoroughness of his analyses was amazing, Peter's work was not original or unique. Interest in soil exhaustion and in mineral fertilizers was characteristic of the times, although there were many conservative scientists who refused to see the value of soil analysis. As a matter of fact, fear FLORA FAUNA, AND TEST TUBES 115 of soil exhaustion prompted many of the state geological and agricultural surveys. This feature of the movement was aptly expressed in 185 4 by B. L. C. Wailes in his introduction to the Report on the Agriculture and Geology of JW.ississippi. "The effects produced in New Jersey, Virginia, and several other states," he wrote, "on the restoration of exhausted lands to their primitive fertility, by the application of marls or mineral ma­ nures which similar surveys have brought into notice, exerted the chief influence in setting on foot an enterprise for develop­ ing our own resources of this character. " 19 From the technical point of view, Peter was influenced by the German chemists, Heinrich Rose and Justus Van Liebig, and Rose's work Handhuch der Analyteschen Chemie was his con­ stant companion. In some cases., especially where it was necessary to separate magnesia from the alkalies, he used certain new methods developed by J. Lawrence Smith who at that time, it will be remembered, was teaching at the University of Louisville. Before analysing a soil, Peter allowed it to "digest" in water that had been saturated under pressure with carbonic acid gas. This plan was adopted "in order more nearly to imitate the pro­ cess of nature in the solution of the nutritious ingredients of the soil for the food of plants. " 20 According to Peter, the single specimen system was not very scientific. In order to give a prac­ tical demonstration of the value of soil analysis, it was necessary to collect from a single locality four specimens one of virgin soil, one of cultivated soil, one of sub-soil, and one of the under­ lying rock. Then by comparative analysis, the chemist could ascertain with reasonable accuracy the changing conditions of the soil in relation to agricultural operations. Thus the scientist, declared Peter, could give the farmer within a few weeks in­ formation that the latter could obtain only after years of experi­ mentation with crops and fertilizers. But Peter was wise enough to realize that his analyses could be inaccurate. "It must be evi­ dent," he asserted, "that quantities of valuable nutritious matter ... may exist in a soil, and yet may entirely escape the most delicate processes, and be unappreciable, in the quantities gener­ ally taken by the chemist for his analyses, by his finest bal­ ance. "21 Only by working out a system of simultaneous analyses was I 16 ANTE-BELLUM KENTUCKY it possible for Peter to accomplish the \Vork he did for the Ken­ tucky survey. His laboratory was fifteen feet square and ar­ ranged so that he might work with the greatest possible speed and efficiency. This workshop was well-equipped with platinum crucible, glass beakers, funnels, flasks, n1bes, spirit lamps, furnaces, and sand baths so that twenty to forty different an­ alyses, each in a different stage of development, could be carried on simultaneously. The work tables \Vere within three feet of each other, and the furnaces, sand baths, and water baths were stationed close to the tables. Consequently, the chemist could reach all the different operations by taking only a fe\v steps in this compact laboratory. An assistant speeded up the work by crushing and sifting the soils so that Peter was free to guide the more technical processes. 22 Peter probably made more attempts to educate intelligent Kentuckians to appreciate the utility of scientific investigation than any other man in the state. But of course he was not alone and Smith, Rafinesque, Yandell, O"\ven, Dudley, Gross and others all added their individual contributions to the public con­ ception of science as a social agent. Perhaps Peter was more suc­ cessful than the others in making the people science conscious. He took his chemistry out of the laboratory, stripped it of scien­ tific verbosity, and made it a useful servant of the people. The fact that many people, farmers as well as city residents, came to Peter for advice was indicative of the fact that they were be­ ginning to appreciate the practicability of science and this in turn gave hope for a continued progressive society. That this hope was seriously deflated by the great sectional war of 1861- 1865 was no fault of the Kentucky scientists or of their embry­ onic program for scientific cooperation with social and economic forces. CHAPTER VII

THE GREAT REVIVAL AND ITS AFTERl\1ATH

ITH considerable justification, certain historians have W emphasized the frontier as of major importance in the development of American social and political thought. Kentuc­ ky, of course, during the early years of its ante-bellum period was definitely "frontier," and down to 1860 the Kentucky region was influenced to a certain extent by frontier forces. The fact that the state was so close to the frontier in point of time and also ,vith respect to actual physical conditions tends to throw the educational and scientific interests and accomplishments into bold relief. There has been a tendency, therefore, to give this cultural development, which was the achievement of a minority group, greater recognition than if the achievements had eminated from a more mature social order. In other words, in spite of rather primitive conditions, there were marked cultural interests in Kentucky from the very first decade of the state's existence. On the other hand, religious interests and movements, es­ pecially certain features of the emotional upheaval known as the Great Revival, were in many cases, not only conditioned by the frontier, but probably made possible by frontier life. This does not imply that the spectacular features associated with the re­ vival were new to religion. Fantastic emotional displays are as old as religion itself, but it is doubtful if they could have reached t~e extremes of the Kentucky revival in any but a provincial so­ ciety. Although the climax of the Great Revival movement was staged on the frontier, the genesis of the movement was to be found in the Atlantic seaboard states. It will be remembered that there vvas a period of religious s.:agnation throughout the eastern Ynited States following the War for Independence and that dur­ ing the same period thousands of Americans moved westward over the mountains to the eastern borders of the great Mississippi Valley, many of them settling in Kentucky. As the population of II8 ANTE-BELLUl\1 KENTUCKY the East was irreligious and morally loose, it was not strange that many frontiersmen let down the bars completely and became like the Lexington citizen who asserted "if some are spotted with sin, I am spot all over. "1 The frontier offered unparalleled opportunities for any re­ ligious group, and the most influential churches of the nineteenth century were those which adequately met the challenge of the West. At the close of the eighteenth century it so happened that the Presbyterians were in the best position to take full advantage of the opportunity offered by the growing frontier. Their pres­ byteries, their churches, and their ministers were to be found farthest "\\1est and their leaders were imbued with the sturdy spirit of the pioneers. 2 Among the early Presbyterian leaders in Kentucky were David Rice and Adam Rankin ,vho established churches near Danville, Harrodsburg, and Lexington as early as 1783-1784.3 Rice in particular deserves more than passing notice. Although advanced in years, he was very active and possessed the ability to lead and to organize. He was a man of experience, good judg­ ment, conservative, and far-sighted. It was through his influence that the first regular Presbyterian organization ( the Transylvania Presbytery) was introduced into the West in 17 86 and for this reason he was given the title of "Father" Rice. 4 Although they were on the scene at an early date, Kentucky Presbyterians were unable to maintain a paramount position as the frontier civilization expanded. This was due to several causes found within the denomination itself and to certain frontier movements which redounded to the disadvantage of the Pres­ byterians. The number of Presbyterian ministers in Kentucky was too small to meet the competition of the Baptist and Meth­ odist preachers and circuit riders. The Calvinistic doctrine and the Westminster Confession ,vere too rigid for frontier life, a factor that enabled the rival denominations, with their more evangelical creeds, to claim most of the converts during the Great Revival. Finally, and most disastrous to the cause of ortho­ dox Presbyterianisn1, were two schisms, the Cumberland and the Stoneite, which grew out of the revival movement. 5 It was ironic that the Great Revival which was to cause so much trouble for the Presbyterians was actually started by one THE GREAT REVIVAL AND ITS AFTERMATH 119 of their U\Vn ministers. He was James l\!I cGready whose preach­ ing in Logan County, Kentucky, started the wave of religious emotionalism that engulfed the frontier. McGready came from North Carolina to Logan County in 1796 \.Vhere he became the pastor of three churches. He brought to the backwoods a mod­ ified Calvinism and a warm evangelistic attitude which probably could be traced indirectly to the preaching of George v\7hite­ field. He was more interested in bringing people to see the evil of their irregular ways than he was in predestination, more anx­ ious to bring the sinners to church than to preach "the scholastic jargon" on the atonement. This was a new departure for a Pres­ byterian in that section of the country and it was to produce a greater effect on the frontier than the more conventional defense of dogma. 6 McGready was full of fire and spirit and his sermons were full of hell and brimstone. A contemporary declared that he would give such a vivid description of hell that a group of sinners would tremble and quake, believing that a lake of fire was yawn­ ing before them and the hand of an angry God was thrusting them down into an abyss horrible beyond description.7 This was the stuff of which revivals were made. According to McGready the people of southern Kentucky showed little interest in religion from 1796 to 1798. "A general deadness seemed to creep on apace," and the work of the Lord ceased. After 1798 the scene changed rapidly. At a Gasper River meeting several persons suddenly felt the presence of the Lord, and they fell to the ground groaning, praying, and crying for mercy. One woman screamed that she had no religion and that she was going to hell. Others lay prostrated, unable to move. But this was only a mild introduction to what was to follow. 8 By the summer of 1800 other Presbyterian and Methodist preachers had joined with McGready to spread the revival throughout the region. "1\1 ultitudes" throughout Logan County were being struck down under awful convictions, and the cries of distressed Sabbath-breakers, 2dulterers, dancerf, and profane swearers filled the churches and echoed through the dark aisles of the woods where the excited sinners claimed they saw super­ natural figures perched on every tree. At Red River, Gasper River, and Muddy River people "crowded from all parts of the 120 ANTE-BELLUM KENTUCKY country to see a strange work. "9 Many came from points forty and fifty miles away, others traveled a hundred miles. Some came on foot, some on horseback, while others, entire families, came in ,vagons loaded with provisions. The meeting houses became so crowded that it was impossible to carry on formal services. At Red River even the floor of the church was "literally covered with the prostrate bodies of penitents so that it became necessary to carry a number out of doors and lay them on the grass."10 From Logan and Christian Counties the revival spread south and east to Nashville and Knoxville and north and east to the Kentucky Bluegrass. In Lexington there were many skeptics and son1e of those ,vho fell were accused of being hypocrites even by their own relatives. Unbelievers went to meeting with a supply of bread soaked in vinegar and ,vhen their pious friends fell into a trance they revived them by stuffing their mouths with the sour bread. Vials of hartshom, used as smelling salts, served the same purpose. Such inter£erence with the ways of the Lord were denounced as sacriligious by revival leaders.11 Lexington men about town, and especially the young Deists, attended the revivals to stir up trouble. On one occasion the well­ known James Bradford broke up a meeting by declaring that the place was full of foul air and that the ladies were about to faint. He called the minister an infernal scoundral because he would not let the women out of the tent and for a moment a brawl seemed imminent. However, at this point, Bradford's com­ panion Dr. Samuel Brown, apologized for the disturbance and a fight ,vas averted. \Vhen order had been restored some one noticed that the ,vomen ( who were supposedly in distress) were still present. They were asked if they wished to withdraw to the open air. They laughed and answered in the negative, de­ claring that the meeting was the most enjoyable one they had 1 ever attended. :! During the summer of 1801 revivals were held throughout central Kentucky, but the largest gatherings were at Pleasant Point ( on Stoner Creek) and at Cane Ridge. The Pleasant Point meeting lasted for five days and nights and the attendance was estimated at four thousand. There was a continuous program of singing and praying, shouting and confessing. Some lay as if THE GREAT REVIVAL AND ITS AFTERi\1A. TH 12 1 about to expire ,vhile others shrieked as if pierced with the devil's pitchfork. One fell "as if shot" by the spirit of the Lord but t,vo days later he fell into a stupor from a different type of 1 1 spirits. = The Cane Ridge meeting was in progress from August 7 to 12, 1 So 1, and n1arked the climax of the revival movement in Kentucky. It \Vas attended by Presbyterians, Methodists, Bap­ tists, Scotch Seceders, and Shakers. i\1any of the religious leaders of the \\7' est ,vere present including Richard i\1'Nemar, Peter Cart,vright, Banon W. Stone, and John Lyle. All classes of so­ ciety ,vere represented. Hunters, farmers, merchants, paupers, petty thieves, virgins, and prostitutes flocked to Cane Ridge.14 The number in attendance was estimated as high as thirty thous­ and and as low as ten thousand. The exact number will never be known. The first day of the historic meeting was comparatively calm, but as the preachers warmed to the doctrines nearest their hearts and as the emotions of the crowd increased, the conversions were made by the hundreds. All the peculiar "exercises" of the earlier revivals appeared at Cane Ridge. Some worshippers appeared to be forcibly thrown down and rolled over and over like a log. One woman breathed very hard and quick "like a sheep run down on a hot day." A man kicked the floor of a preacher's plat£ orm so hard that the words of the sermon were drowned out. Boys and girls, guided by the holy ghost, sang songs, clapped hands and marched among the assemblage. Men and women took the position of a dog, n1oved about on hands and knees, growled, snapped their teeth, and barked up trees. One man was so enraptured that he flapped his arms and attempted to fly away to paradise. Some had the jerks; others jumped and ran; many fell to the ground and lay in a trance for hours after ,vhich they confessed their sins, their crimes, and their atrocities. Some women stripped off their clothes in a religious frenzy. In nearby cornfields men and women were found in the act of adultery. And above the din of the restless, dusty, praying, sing­ ing, and shouting audience the preachers "roared hell and dam­ nation loudly."15 As the work of the revival progressed, Pres­ byterians became divided into two parties, the revivalists and the anti-revivalists. The latter represented the unbending Calvinists, ., ., I -- ANTE-BELLU.l\il KENTUCKY those ,vho insisted on re1naining true to the principles of the vVestminster Confession. They held aloof from the camp n1eet­ ings and asserted that the teachings of the revivalists ,vere under­ mining ecclesiastical dignity and authority. This conservative elen1ent, ,vhich represented the orthodox church, controlled the government of the Kentucky Synod and made an attempt to maintain the established form of worship among all Presbyter­ ians. Ho,vever, ,vhen the Synod disciplined the liberal element in the Cun1berland Presbytery in 1805, the result ,vas contro­ versy and eventually schism.16 The Cumberland Presbytery had been organized in 1802 and included territory in southern Kentucky and northern Tennes­ see. It included the Gasper River country where McGready had launched the first revivals and where many people continued to express profound interest in religious activities. There were n1ore congregations than ordained ministers and in this frontier region it ,vas impossible to 1naintain the Presbyterian custom of demanding college-trained men for the ministry. In order to meet the emergency, the Cumberland Presbytery, which was controlled by the revi valise element, lowered the ministerial qualifications and accepted candidates on their ability to preach and to explain certain fundamental principles of doctrine. Be­ lief in the \\lestminster Confession ,vas not mandatory, and candidates were expected to accept it "only so far as they be­ lieved it to agree with the word of God."17 Consequently, the presbytery accepted men who were as close to Methodism as they were to Presbyterianism.18 The conservative elen1ent of the Presbyterian church was alarmed at this display of irregularity and what was considered the scandalous neglect of time-honored Calvinistic traditions. Some sort of protest was necessary and in 1805 the Kentucky Synod appointed a commission "For the important purpose of regulating the disorders ... in Cumberland Presbytery."19 On December 3, 1805, the commission, or special committee of in­ vestigation, opened its hearings at Gasper meeting house in Lo­ gan County. The trial lasted for nearly two weeks and the evidence submitted proved that the Cumberland Presbytery denied that a classical education was prerequisite to ministerial 1 .., .., THE GREAT RE\ I\.TAL AND ITS AFTERMATH I -:, ordination and that rigid adherence to ,\lestminster standards ,:vas unnecessary. :!o The Synod's comn1issioners ,vould not accept this liberal in­ terpretation of orthodox principles and twenty-seven of the ne,vly ordained n1inisters were denied the privileges of preach­ ing or administering the church ordinances in any respect. Three of the radical ministers, \Villiam Hodge, \Villiam i\11cGee, and John Rankin were ordered to appear before the Synod for ex­ amination, but they refused on the grounds that the Presbytery reserved the right to try its o,vn members. A constitutional point was now added to the controversy and the authority of the Synod was challenged. After several unsuccessful attempts ,vere made to bring the way,vard ministers back into the fold, the Synod dissolved the Cumberland Presbytery and re-annexed it to the Presbytery of Transylvania. Ho,vever, the insurgents ,vere not to be intimidated. They formed themselves into a council, voted to ignore the commands of the Synod, and continued their religious work without bene­ fit of orthodoxy. In 1810, three of the revival preachers, Finis Ewing, Samuel King, and Samuel i\t1cAdoo organized an inde­ pendent presbytery that soon became the Cumberland Presby­ terian Church. By 182 o, this insurgent denomination had one thousand members in Kentucky alone. 21 In doctrine the Cumberland Presbyterians rejected that part of the Westminster Confession pertaining to predestination. In administration they followed Presbyterian precedents. Some of their teachings were closely related to Methodism. According to Peter Cartwright, the Cun1berland radicals considered joining the Methodist Church in 1 8 1 o, but Methodist leaders persuaded them to organize an independent church. 22 Reasons for the success of this independent movement may be found not only in its attractive theology but also in the vig­ orous leadership of Finis Ewing who became known as the father of the Cumberland Church. Ewing, the son of Robert and Mary Baker Ewing, was born in Bedford County, Virginia, in 1773. From boyhood he lived on the Tennessee frontier near Nash­ ville but after his marriage to Peggy Davidson he settled near Russellville, Kentucky, in 1793. Here he became a prosperous farmer. About 1798 he was greatly influenced by the preaching 124 ANTE-BELLUM KENTUCKY of James McGready and in 1800 he became so imbued with the flaming spirit of the Great Revival that he decided to enter the ministry. In 180 I he received his licence from the Cumberland Presbytery although he did not meet the orthodox Presbyterian requirements. For nine years he traveled the roads and wood­ land paths of Kentucky and Tennessee, and his physical prowess coupled with his indefatigable zeal for holy writ and clean living brought him a legion of friends and a host of convens. In 1810 ,vhen the opponunity came to lead the Cumberland secessionists Ewing was a mature and experienced preacher. He was the right man, in the right place, at the right time. Within three years his personality, his boundless energy, and his evangelistic preaching had expanded the independent Cumberland Church into a synod of three presbyteries and sixty congregations. 23 Ewing has been compared with Peter Cart,vright, and the two men possessed many characteristics in common. They were strong men, physically and morally, and each vibrated with a colorful individualism that had its genesis in the frontier environ­ ment. Each sensed the potential greatness of the West, and they fought in their own zealous way to bring a better order to the restless people. With thunder in their voices and fire in their bones they crusaded up and down the frontier. It was a hard­ ened sinner, indeed, who was not impressed by these apostles of the better life. While the Cumberland secessionists were fighting for their independence another schism was developing within the ranks of western presbyterianism that was to produce a new and powerful denomination called Christians. The pioneer prophet of the movement that produced the Christian Church was Bar­ ton Warren Stone ( 177 2-1 844) . The birthplace of this new church, which was founded on the belief that the Bible itself was the only rule of faith, was a little frontier meeting house at Cane Ridge, Bourbon County, Kentucky. This rustic log struc­ ture, which still stands, became a shrine not only to members of the Christian Church but also to all those interested in the development of religious philosophies and religious freedom. Stone, born in Maryland and educated in North Carolina, accepted the pastorate of the Cane Ridge and Concord churches in Central Kentucky in 1796. While he had been trained in the THE GREAT REVIVAL AND ITS AFTERMATH I ...., .,- orthodox Presbyterian faith, Stone "\Vas a man whose tempera­ ment could not be adusted to a severe creed. He believed that the Calvinistic theology of the old school Presbyterians was at variance with the Bible and in his frontier churches he felt free to give expression to some of the liberal thoughts that he had tactfully suppressed during his formal school days in North Carolina. The first opportunity to publicly express his liberalism and the simplicity of his faith came at his ordination in 1798. Before the Transylvania Presbytery and a large congregation, he boldly asserted that he adopted the Presbyterian confession of faith only in so far as it was consistent with the word of God.24 \Vhile a few eyebro,vs were raised, there was no verbal criticism of this statement and the ordination proceeded according to schedule. The fact that no objection was raised to this compromise with the conservative faith was encouraging to Stone although there is no indication at this time that he was planning to break com­ pletely with Calvinistic principles or ,vith the orthodox Pres­ byterian church . .i\.s a matter of fact he was still formulating his theological tenets, and his religious philosophy had not crystal­ ized into a definite mold. "l\1y mind was continually tossed on the waves of speculative divinity," he confessed at a later date, "I honestly, earnestly, and prayerfully sought for the truth."25 To accept the doctrine of total depravity ,vas especially dif­ ficult for Stone, although in these early years he taught it and preached it. But many objections rolled across his mind and at times he blushed at what he considered his hypocrisy.. A .. t other times he was equally certain that his theoretical ideas were san­ tanic temptations to be repelled at all cost. But time proved to his own satisfaction that his ideas were not sired by Satin after all. Sometimes the validity of his beliefs struck him so forcefully in the n1idst of a sern1on that it was almost impossible for him to finish. In his autobiography he asserts that "often when he was addressing the listening multitudes on the doctrine of total de­ pravity his zeal would be chilled in a moment at the thought of the contradictions involved."26 As his own doctrine developed, Calvinistic theology became more distasteful to him. It clashed with his democratic principles. He admitted that there were thousands of sinners but he re- 126 ANTE-BELLUM KENTUCKY fused to condemn them en masse. The great work of the church should be among all sinners, thought Stone, and yet according to the Calvinists, God regenerated only the chosen few. Stone would save all sinners and he came at last to the conclusion that God loved the whole world and all the men in it. "Love to God and man is the very essence of religion," he said. "\Vithout it 27 religion is an empty name." · Once he arrived at this satisfying climax to his several years of mental pondering and indecision he was forced to throw out of his theology once and for all the principles of unconditional election and reprobation. Soon he was openly describing Calvinism as one of "the heaviest clogs on Christianity in the world. "28 Meantime the great revival movement had been inaugurated in Logan County, and in r 80 r Stone visited some of the camp meetings. It was a thrilling experience for him and he returned to Cane Ridge so full of enthusiasm that he organized a revival in his own neighborhood. The result was the famous Cane Ridge meeting of August, r 80 r, which has been described. Stone was no longer a spectator. He used the revival as a medium through which he poured out his liberal theology and his evan­ gelical thoughts. 29 At first the orthodox Presbyterians were will­ ing to overlook these new ideas because of the enthusiasm they created among the people. However, once they realized how far the n:~ movement might go they began to organize a strong oppos1t1on. According to Stone "the sticklers for orthodoxy" writhed as they listened to the liberal doctrines, but at first they said nothing, hoping for converts. But when the i\1ethodist and Bapt­ ists began to draw away disciples for their churches the con­ servative Presbyterians became alarmed and began to preach "the old dogmas." "Never before did partyism . . . appear so hateful, so destructive to the progress of truth and vital piety, and to the salvation of souls," Stone declared indignantly,30 forgetting that he and his companions were the aggressors and that the Presbyterians were fighting for what they considered just and time-honored principles. The Synod of Kentucky accepted the challenge of the re­ formers and decided to teach them a lesson they would long remember. Accordingly Stone and four of his companions, THE GREAT RE\TIVAL AND ITS AFTERl\ilATH 127 Richard 1Vl'Nemar, John Thon1pson, John Dunlavy, and Robert Nlarshall, were ordered to appear before the synodical tribunal and answer for their heresy. However, the Stoneites refused to obey the summons. Instead of appearing for trial they dre,v up a formal protest, withdrew from the jurisdiction of the Synod, and established an independent presbytery that was given the name of Springfield. 31 The establishment of Springfield Presbytery precipitated a pamphlet warfare between the champions of Calvinism and the Stoneite reformers. The first publication ( 1804) can1e from the reformers and ,vas entitled An Apology for Renouncing the Jurisdiction of the Synod of Kentucky. In this pamphlet, the Stoneites stated their objective to the confession of faith and all other inelastic Calvinistic creeds and maintained that they ac­ cepted the Bible alone as the bond of Christian fellowship. The Presbyterians replied with an Apology for Calvinism. This little pamphlet was written by Robert Hamilton Bishop and asserted that all of Stone's arguments were confused and absurd.32 In the midst of this journalistic battle the reform group was busy preaching and establishing new churches. By 1804 there were fifteen congregations in the new order scattered through­ out Kentucky and Ohio. Stone's Cane Ridge Church became known as the birthplace of the reform movement and event­ ually as the birthplace of the Christian Church which came into existence in 1804 when the Springfield Presbytery was dissolved a?d all pretenses of Presbyterian connections disappeared in thin air. The dissolution of the unorthodox Springfield Presbytery was inevitable. Stone and his associates had gone too far to have even a remote connection with the Presbyterian Church and the very idea of a presbytery was inconsistent with their democratic con­ ception of church organization. It was the ambition of the Stonite group to have a church entirely free of all the para­ phernalia associated with more formal ecclesiastical bodies. The new church was to be truly Christian, a church fur the people, and each congregation was to enjoy complete independence. With such theories to preach, a presbytery, even though con­ trolled by the reformers themselves, became embarrassing. Con­ sequently, it was decreed that the presbytery be dissolved and 128 ANTE-BELLUM KENTUCKY on June 2 8, 1 804, Stone and his friends issued what they called The Last Will and Testanzent of the Springfield Presbytery. This document, one of the most interesting in church history, not only willed the death of the presbytery, but it summarized in clear cut phrases the theology and the philosophy of the new movement. Portions of the will read as follows:

The Presbytery of Springfield, sitting at Cane Ridge, in the County of Bourbon, being, through a gracious Providence, in more than ordin­ ary bodily health, growing in strength and size daily, and in perfect soundness and composure of mind; but knowing that it is appointed for all delegated bodies once to die; and considering that the life of every such body is very uncertain, do make, and ordain this last Will and Testament in manner and form following, viz.: lmprimis. We will, that this body die, be dissolved and sink into union with the Boby of Christ at large; for there is but one body, and one spirit, even as we are called in one hope of our calling.... Item. We will, that each particular church, as a body, actuated by the same spirit, choose her own preacher, and support him by a free will offering . . . and never hence£orth delegate her right of government to any man or set of men whatsoever. Item. We will, that the people henceforth take the Bible as the only sure guide to heaven .... Item. We will, that preachers and people cultivate a spirit of mutual forbearance, pray more and dispute less .... Item. We will, that the Synod of Kentucky examine every member who may be suspected of having departed from the Confession of Faith, and suspend every such heretic immediately, in order that the oppressed may go free, and taste the sweets of gospel liberty. . . .33

The Last Will and Testament of the Springfield Presbytery may be regarded as the birth of the Christian Church. However, before it reached maturity, this new denomination was to suffer many severe growing pains and be subjected to internal and ex­ ternal difficulties. Some of the leaders became disaffected and were led astray by new and strange doctrines. Three of Stone's associates, Matthew Houston, Richard M'Nemar, and John Dunlavy, deserted to the Shakers and Robert Marshall and John Thompson returned to the Presbyterians. 34 Stone and all those under his influence continued to be subjected to the most severe criticism by the Presbyterians who until 182 6 had financial and press advantages denied the Christians. But in that year Stone THE GREA.T RE\rlVAL AND ITS AFTER1\1ATH 129 founded the Christian 1vlessenger. This periodical became the official spokesn1an of the Stoneites. It gave the n1ovement much needed publicity and unity and by the end of the first year it ,vas a po\verful force in spreading the ideals of the Christian Church. In 182 8 a period of rapid growth set in and the cause of this sudden development can be traced directly to the in­ fluence of the 1vlessenger. l\llembership rolls expanded, new con­ gregations \Vere organized, and new churches ,vere sprinkled over Kentucky, Ohio, and Indiana. The ne,v converts had been 1 ~ 1ethodists, Baptists, and atheists, but Stone was especially pleased with the newcomers who had escaped the rigid folds of Calvinism.35 In the meantime, a movement had developed within the Baptist Church of Kentucky that was to be of real significance to Stone and the Christians. During and in1mediately after the Great Revival, Kentucky Baptists rapidly increased their membership. In r 800 there were six Baptist associations in the state with a total membership of 5, r r o. 36 During the next three years more than ten thousand joined the church and the majority of the new members had been converted by "experience," that is, through the "exercises" as­ sociated with the Revival. 37 The church continued to grow with rapid strides until 182 o. At that date the Baptists in Kentucky numbered over thirty thousand. There were twenty-five assoc­ iations and nearly five hundred organized churches.38 This rapid gro'",rth was checked during the decade of the twenties because of internal controversies and the strong appeal made by Alexander ·Campbell's reformers. Campbell ( r 788- 1866) had developed a religious philosophy that resembled Stone's and it seems evident that the early religious experiences of the two men were somewhat similar. Campbell was brought up in the Presbyterian faith but in 1 809, while living in Pen­ nsylvania, he became associated with an independent church ,vhich deemphasized both creeds and confessions of faith. This local organization failed and in an attempt to find a faith that ,vould satisfy his religious cravings he entered the Baptist Church. As a Baptist he went through a personal reformation. He was too liberal to be an orthodox Baptist and during the decade of the twenties he criticised Baptist preaching methods, 130 ANTE-BELLUM KENTUCKY their doctrinal emphasis, and their requirements of particular religious experience. Campbell stressed the ideas of a primitive faith based on the Bible alone. By 18 30 he was the recognized leader of a new denomination kno,vn as the Disciples of Christ.39 Although Campbell lived in Virginia after 18 1 1 his religious philosophy attracted attention throughout Kentucky and Ten­ nessee. He spread his ideas and made many of his contacts through the columns of his publications, The Christian Baptist (Bethany, 1823-1829) and the Millennial Harbinger (Bethany, 1830-1870). Many personal appearances increased his following. By nature he was a controversialist and a debater and he has been described as "one born to command." He expressed his opinions editorially and from the public platform with such force, sincerity, and logic, that he became the idol of thousands of liberal Kentucky Baptists. His debate with N. L. Rice in Lex­ ington in 1843 has gone down in church annals as a classic. The debate lasted for sixteen days and attracted attention throughout the West. Campbell's closing remarks on the last day of this ora­ torical marathon have remained important in church literature because they so completely express his religious beliefs and at the same time represented the Campbell platform style at its best. His conclusion to the debate is quoted below.

But, my fellow-citizens, there is one point that cannot be too deeply impressed upon your minds-that the union of Christians is essential to the conversion of the world, both at home and abroad. Now, as creeds foster and keep alive, and transmit these parties, on this single account alone, they seem to me altogether worthy of a cordial reprobation. Where there is no contention, the fire of serife goeth out; and where there is nothing to contend about, contention itself ceases. Remove, then, these causes of contention; take God's own book ... let us unite upon the ancient foundation. Let us cast away our idols, our human in­ ventions, and meet around the common altar, and there bow our knees together in cordial union and cooperation; then the gospel will resume its ancient spirit and power, spread its holy influence far and wide, and bless your children's children, through many generations.... Abandon your sectarianism, meet on holy Scriptures, and bear with one another's in­ firmities, and then pray for a blessing upon your offspring; and you "shall grow up as among the grass, and as willows by the watercourses."41 While it is true that Campbell preached an interesting and at­ tractive creed many of his disciples were caught in the spell of THE GREAT REVIVAL AND ITS AFTERMATH 131 his personality. About 1830, at the height of his power, he ex­ hibited the earnest vigor of youth modified and finely directed by the tempering force of his forty years. His head was small but \vell-shaped and his countenance usually glowed with an ir­ resistible cheerfulness. And he was a man of determination. His audiences thought of hin1 as a man who would not retreat an inch in the ,vay of concession to escape "the crack and pudder of a dissolving world."42 Bet,veen 182 9 and 183 2 several thousand Kentucky Baptists withdrew from the orthodox church and joined Campbell's Dis­ ciples of Christ. About the same time ( 183 1 ) a movement was inaugurated to unite the followers of Campbell with Stone's Christians. The two denominations were quite similar with re­ spect to religious doctrine. Differences were evident in methods rather than in theological aims and any comparison in detail of the two creeds and two leaders is purely academic. The im­ portant fact is that the two groups united their forces and their resources in 183 2. 43 For a time after the merger there was some bickering about the name of the united church. Should it be the Disciples Church or the Christian Church? Gradually the name Christian was accepted by many of the former Campbellites and in 1843 Campbell himself asserted that he had no objection to the word. In October, 1843, Stone wrote in The Christian Messenger, "He, Campbell, will no longer contend for Disciples as our family name; no longer will he reject the name Christian." 44 Primarily evangelical in nature, The Great Revival gave a tremendous stimulus to the Methodist Church and during the first dozen years of the nineteenth century the disciples of Wes­ ley made remarkable gains all along the line of the frontier. In 1800, the number of Methodists in the West, including Negroes, did not exceed three thousand. In 1 804, the Kentucky District alone of the Western Conference reported 3,718 white mem­ bers and 24 3 Negroes. By 181 1, the total membership in Ken­ tucky and Tennessee was 1 7, 5 1 I whites and r ,4 I 5 Negroes. In 181 2, the total number for the W estem Conference, which included the area of the Ohio Valley, was over thirty thousand.45 It seems evident that the rapidly expanding Methodist roll call reflected the glowing emotionalism and the burning zeal of ..,., I :,- ANTE-BELLUM KENTUCKY the revival movement. However, there were other causes for the rapid growth of l\1ethodism on the frontier. Westward migration was reaching a high tempo in the early years of the nineteenth century and many of the newcomers in the vVest \Vere already well-versed in the doctrines, policy, and worship of the l\iiethodists. The v\T estern Conference was fortunate to have the services of such leaders as William l\1cKendree, \Villiam Burke, and Peter Cartwright. The far reaching influence of Francis Asbury was another important factor. The circuit riders in particular deserve a large share of credit for their ceaseless efforts in spreading the gospel from crossroads to crossroads, from village to village, from cabin to cabin. The more diligent preacher lived on his horse and kept house in his saddle bags. Then, too, the Methodist circuit rider preached a doctrine that glorified individual responsibility, a doctrine that was really understood by the frontiersman. Symbolic of the frontier preachers was Peter Cartwright who could help God damn a gentleman or an unprincipled raftman with equal ef­ fectiveness. 46 Kentucky Methodism grew steadily throughout the ante­ bellum period and produced its share of nationally known lead­ ers. It also played a singular role in the controversy over the slavery issue that led to the secession of Southern Methodists from the General Conference. The Kentucky Conference was the first in the South to adopt resolutions (September 11, 1844) condemning what was considered the intolerant attitude of Northern Methodist leaders on the slavery question and it was at Louisville in 1845 that the Methodist Episcopal Church, South, was organized.47 While the Great Revival tended to reshape the history of the more legitimate denominations it also afforded an unusual opportunity for fanatics and prophets of radical creeds. In Ken­ tucky, the most important of these unusual cults to use the Re­ vival as a springboard to success was the Shakers. In 1805, three Shaker missionaries, John Meachem, Issacher Bates, and Benjamin Youngs, arrived in Kentucky. They had been dispatched by the authorities at the New Lebanon, New York, colony and they brought to the people of Kentucky, who were already emotionally primed by the Great Revival, a pas-- THE GREAT REV"I\T AL AND ITS AFTERlvlA. TH 13 3 roral letter urging then1 to confess their sins and to take up the 8 cross against the flesh, the \Vorld, and all evil. 4 The missionaries concentrated their efforts in the vicinity of Paint Lick and Cane Ridge and soon succeeded in n1aking a number of converts, in­ cluding some of Barton Stone's n1ost valued apostles! Among these were Richard l\l'Nemar and John Dunlavy \vho became prominent leaders in the Shaker movement. ·H) Late in the summer of 180 5, the Shakers obtained a foothold at Sha\vnee Run in Mercer County near Harrodsburg and by 1806, through the efforts of Elisha Thomas, Nlatthe,v Houston, and other Kentucky land owners, they had gained possession of a large tract of land at nearby Pleasant Hill. In later years Pleas­ ant Hill \Vas known simply as Shaker Town.50 In November, 1806, Benjamin Youngs ,vrote a covenant that was signed by all the believers and the settlement ,vas thus officially organized. It grew rapidly between 1806 and r 81 2 and as early as r 8 r o sev­ eral different "families" had been bound together by covenant into one general community. In 1812 an extensive building pro­ gram was started51 and many of the early Shakertown houses ,vere so well constructed that they are still in good repair today. In the meantime, in 1 8 1 o, under the leadership of Youngs, i\1olly Goodrich, and M'Nemar, another settlement was made at South Union ( near Russellville), Kentucky, which was fifteen miles from the Tennessee line and one hundred and thirty miles southwest of Pleasant Hill. Additional colonies were established north of the Ohio and all the settlements were made to feel a certain unity by personal visits from Shaker leaders. 52 Although their numbers increased and their communities thriveq, the Shakers met opposition on all sides in these early days. Revival leaders who had received the original missionaries ,vith a friendly smile of \tvelcome soon denounced all Shakers as wolves in sheep's clothing and as a menace to organized re­ ligion. 53 The Shakers, in turn, denounced their enemies in no uncertain terms. They seemed to feel resentful toward Stone in particular, and it was recorded i11 their records that "Barton \V. Stone, the great preacher of spurious gospel, shut his door against us. We feel our skirts clear from the blood of wicked Cane Ridge."54 Shaker preachers ,vere constantly in danger. They were 1 34 ANTE-BELLUM KENTUCKY threatened \Vith mob violence and irate farmers shot at them as they rode along the roads. Their preaching stands and tents were set afire \vhile they slept. One night while camping near Danville a group of Shakers was aroused by a great commotion among their tethered horses. Upon investigation it was discov­ ered that invisible enemies had mutilated the horses by cutting off their ears and tails. At some of their revival meetings Shaker leaders were unable to speak because the opposition danced and carroused until anything like a serious sermon was impos­ sible. Under such conditions there \Vas nothing for the preachers to do but leave and hope for a better reception at the next town.55 On one occasion, the Shaker leader, Benjamin Youngs, who never weighed over one hundred pounds, met three rough-and­ ready horsemen near Lancaster. At first the three men accused him of being a Quaker, but when they discovered his identity they mocked him as the Great Benjamin who went about Ken­ tucky to seduce the people and ravish the women. Youngs, of course, denied the charge, whereupon the men laughed and said that he could not be as other men if he had no desire for women. They threatened to examine him to see if he had been "altered," but changed their minds and merely knocked his hat into the bushes. Finally, they warned him never to visit that region again or they would "take the flesh off his bones. " 56 Similar incidents were frequent in the early history of the Shakers, but in spite of bitter opposition the movement grew and prospered. In the sense that no member could own personal property or possess wealth in any form, Shakerism resembled Communism. Theoretically, each settlement was regarded as one happy family, pledged to hold and to enjoy all things in com­ mon. Actually each church, or community, was divided into several families, each living in a separate house, each responsible for the conduct of its own affairs, but all working for the com­ mon good.57 One of the best authoritative explanations of the purpose of a Shaker settlement is to be found in the South Union Constitu­ tion of 1830. The object of the church or body of people in social and religious compact, is faithfully and honestly to occupy, improve, and diffuse the THE GREA. T REVIVAL .A.ND ITS AFTERM ..t\. TH 135 various gifts and talents both of a spiritual, and temporal nature with which Divine \Visdo1n has blessed us, for the service of God, for the honor of the gospel, and for the mutual protection, support, comfort, and happiness of each other, as Brethren and Sisters in the gospel and for such other pious and charitable purposes as the gospel may require. 58

1~den and women newly converted to the Shaker faith ,vere requested to sign a document entitled "Articles of Agreement." According to the Articles, the new member was admitted to the church on probation until he had adjusted himself to the new way of life and was certain that he "\Vas satisfied with Shaker society. He promised to make no demands on the society other than food and shelter and he was free to withdraw if he was dissatisfied. However, he agreed not to create widespread dis­ satisfaction by talking against the rules and regulations. 59 The Shakers would not admit every applicant. Persons under any legal involvement, including debts, were excluded until they were free of all possible litigation. Insane and profane persons were not eligible. No person who lived "in the wilful and ha­ bitual violation of any kno"\vn and acknowledged principles of moral rectitude" would be considered. Children were accepted by the church as wards, but they were not admitted to full membership. 60 According to Shaker custom, the Kentucky colonies were governed by a ministry of male and female elders. At South Union, the term minister was applied to the elders with the most authority. The "ministers" in turn appointed the elders, and the ministers and elders appointed lesser officials called deacons and deaconesses. The elders ( or ministers) were regarded as the faithful \Vatchmen of all spiritual life. They were administrators in the sense that they called council meetings and supervised les­ ser officials. The deacons and deaconesses were intrusted with the care of domestic matters. Normally, there were two of each sex, that is two deacons and two deaconesses, in each family.61 Life in a Shaker community was varied and interesting for the sincere believer. Everybody worked but there was time for an1usen1ent too. Fishing parties and picincs were quite common and at certain seasons there were log rolling bees, com huskings, and house raisings. Since the society was opposed to hard liquor the bottle ,vas never a part of their celebrations. However, it ANTE-BELLUM KENTUCKY ,vas recorded at South Union that a cider mill ,vas constructed "in the orchard near the graveyard" and it may be assumed that some sweet cider was consumed in the community. In the early days Indian raids, horse thieves, and fire bugs offered plenty of excitement and tended to prevent the Shaker settlements from becoming too stereotyped. 62 The Shaker journals recorded that whenever possible work ,vas made as attractive as possible. The fallowing quotation in­ dicates that even road building could be a pleasant task ,vhen proper arrangements ,vere made for the comfort of the laborers.

N e,v road-Early this morning the Brethren, about 60 in number, began to cut the new road, crossing the creek twice-provisions were made in the bend of the creek for refreshments-so as none need go home for dinner-the table was 80 feet long and 66 persons sat down to dinner-David Smith chief cook and manager with Benjamine Good­ hope, John McLean, and Constant Callaway assistants, besides 8 sisters and 2 boys. Plates, cups, saucers and drink-bread, sauce, meat, etc.-to satisfaction and perfection-Had a good time generally.63

It seems evident that the Shakers in Kentucky enjoyed a variety of food. Most of the produce came from their own farms -peaches, apples, strawberries, melons, oats, com, wheat, beef, pork, cheese, honey, and all the popular vegetables of the day. In 1858, the Mercer County Shakers preserved 17882 jars of strawberries, raspberries, cherries, pears, plums, peaches, quinces, apples, and melons. 64 In January, 18 59, the same settlement 65 slaughtered 19,3 r I pounds of beef. In their attempt to become self-sufficient, the Shakers de­ veloped numerous home industries. The Pleasant Hill society manufactured almost everything needed in domestic life from beehives to bonnet boxes. They had craftsmen who worked ,vith wood, metal, and glas.5 and they developed textile indus­ tries. 66 The South Union Shakers had a brick kiln, a tannery, textile shops for wool and flax, a saw mill, a stone mill, dyeing vats, and a fulling mill. 67 Dried apples and brooms were Shaker specialties. According to the records of Pleasant Hill one in­ dustrious craftsman made twenty thousand broom handles in a single year.68 The Shaker creed taught the true believers to shun the world, THE GREAT REVIVAL AND ITS AFTERMATH 137 but they carried on trading and business relations with the towns and markets beyond_, their secluded settlements. At the South Union fulling mill, cloth ,vas dressed for stores in Russellville, Bowling Green, Hopkinsville, and Nashville. By boat and wagon Shakers journeyed to markets far and near and either sold such articles as sage, garden seed, jeans, socks, carpets, brooms, and dried apples or exchanged them for tea, coffee, sugar, flour and dried mackerel. 69 .A.t least on one occasion South Union mer­ chant adventurers took a cargo all the way to New Orleans in a boat that they constructed themselves. 70 The Shaker "family" homes were plainly but comfortably furnished. They manufactured their own beds, chairs, bureaus, tables, candles and lamps. They enjoyed such luxuries as look­ ing glasses and bookcases. Their kitchens were well-equipped ,vith all the necessary utensils, most of them the product of Shaker craftsmanship. Although they were removed from all things ,vorldly, the men enjoyed commercial razors and shaving soap. Such items as "r dozen cakes of shaving soap" and "a razor strop" were recorded regularly in the journals under "Boughten Articles." In December, r 848, the book keeper of East House at Pleasant Hill (Shakertown) made the following entry: "A magic razor strop for the Elder Brethren."71 From tin1e to time the hannony of the Shaker settlements was disturbed by desertions. In some cases Cupid played a leading role and when a man and a woman disappeared together the col­ ony assumed that they "'~ould enter the sinful bonds of matri­ mony and struck their names off the record with the words: "Went to the world." Occasionally a member was asked to leave. For example, Elizabeth Young ,vas expelled from Pleasant Hill because she "imbibed the doctrine of free love which did not suit us." 72 Another problem arose over "seasonal" or "winter Shakers," people who were converted in December just before cold weather set in and ,vho deserted with the return of spring.73 The Shakers regarded their social and economic organization as of great importance but religion ,vas the dominant factor in the life of a true believer. Shaker faith made strict demands on every rnan and woman and generally speaking there was no escape except by the road of desertion to the world that had been denounced. "Church" to the Shaker implied more than a Sunday ANTE-BELLUM KENTUCKY sermon. Regular religious services were held at least three times a week, perhaps every day in the early history of the movement. The typical meeting house was a very plain, barn-like hall large. enough to hold the entire community. Except for a bench or two along the bare walls it was unfurnished. There was a peephole about a foot square in the wall at each end of the hall. Through these small observation windows a person standing on the outside could ,vatch the services and the religious dances inside the church. Apparently the Elders had cause to doubt the professed piety of some of their brothers and sisters.74 The main features of a Shaker service were preaching, singing, marching, and dancing. All believers maintained that their re­ ligious rites were incomplete without some motions of the body. Dancing with the hands extended downward symbolized the act of freeing the body of evil spirits and dancing with the palms upturned indicated the reception of blessings and forgiveness. It was customary for songs to accompany the dances, marches, or "shuffles. "75 The earliest Shaker "songs" were wordless tunes and indeed before the Great Revival there was a tendency on the part of the Shakers to denounce music as a worldly evil potent with sinful possibilities. However, after r 805 they drew on the musical sources of the Methodists, Baptists, and Presbyterians, making over the adopted music to fit their peculiar needs. The Shakers themselves described this musical grafting in one of their early hymns:

Let justice seize old Adam's Crew, And all the whore's production; We'll take the choicest of their songs, Which to the Church of God belongs, And recompense them for their wrongs, In singing their ~estruction. 76

Kentucky Shakers produced hundreds of hymns which were called "inspirationals." Many of these songs, some sacred some ridiculous, have been preserved in beautifully written manu­ script hymnals which contain both words and music. The use of bar and note was far from conventional and various dots and geometric figures were employed to guide the singer. Some THE GREAT REVIVAL AND ITS AFTERMATH 139 hymns were short while others rambled on to great lengths and could be sung with equal effect to a dozen different tunes.77 If contemporary accounts are to be taken at face value, the more pious Shakers danced and marched until they ,vere on the verge of complete physical exhaustion. In 18 1 o, a traveler in Kentucky wrote the fallowing description of a song and dance ritual at South Union:

As soon as we came in sight and hearing we found they had com­ menced their exercises. I cro,vded in and found 42 ,vomen formed in a solid column ranging each way, but facing toward a body of about the same number of men formed in like manner all singing and jumping with very exact time and step, or rather jump to the tune and words sung, which words I could not distinctly understand but the verse always ended with "Heavenly Jubilee:" at the end of about a minute every person on the floor jumped quite around but without moving out of spot, this exercise continued at least 15 or 20 minutes when they all clapped hands for about half a minute and then all stood still, and silence reigned for about 5 minutes when the same exercise again continued. I saw three of those intervals and then the farce ended-during the intervals the men and women wiped their faces with handkerchiefs, for they sweated most profusely, the men had laid off their coats, and the women all had short gowns made pretty long [sic] and wore white linen caps with long ears tied under the chin but much broader than the common Methodist caps. The women and men look haggard, pale and emaciated, their violent and f anatick [sic] exercises three times a week having reduced them. 78

Shaker religious rites were emotional, mystical, at times fan­ tastic. The restricted and disciplined life in the communities tended to produce mystics and visionaries. From time to time waves of spiritual emotionalism swept through the Shaker col­ onies producing new, God-given songs, or creating new methods of communication with the assembled spirits. For example, in the early forties in response to a strange revelation each colony in the Ohio Valley constructed a large outdoor meeting place where the faithful congregated at designated times to receive the divine gifts which had been promised by the saints. . Through dreams and trances the more imaginative and sen­ tient Shakers talked with God, with Ann Lee (founder of the faith) and with angels. Such supernatural experiences were ac­ cepted in good faith by the brothers and sisters and recorded in ANTE-BELLUM KENTUCKY the journals side by side with notations penaining to the potato crop or the building of a new n1ill. The faithful expected angels to honor the church services with their presence and the records contain numerous examples of such visitations. "We had a very lively, interesting meeting," wrote the secretary at Pleasant Hill on a March day, 18 5 8, "many holy angels attended and showered their love and blessings upon us. "i9 As time passed the Shakers lost their religious sincerity. The leaders of later generations did not have the strength, the pious­ ness, or the ability to draw new converts into the faith. The world which they tried to avoid continued to encroach upon them. Financial difficulties and internal dissensions finally dis­ rupted the Kentucky settlements which today are only ghosts of a strange cult. The Catholic Church also played a role in the frontier re­ ligious movements. Of all the religious denominations in Ken­ tucky, the Catholics were least affected by the Great Revival. With all the dignity of her eighteen hundred years Mother Church looked upon the emotional contortions at the camp meetings and condemned them in no uncertain terms. Catholic missionaries on the frontier were inclined to criticize the Baptists most severely and even went so far as to blame them for the en­ tire revival movement. The Presbyterians were accused of being copy-cats who imitated Baptist tricks and Baptist noise. The jerks, trances, and barkings of the converted sinners were dis­ missed by Catholic leaders as "absurd tales." And how did the Catholic parishioners respond to the waves of excitement that rolled from the "Protestant soul-harvests"? There is little indication that Catholics forsook their church for the evangelical denominations. One Kentucky priest reported that his parish contained many "scandalous and nominal Catho­ lics," but that not one deserted to the Baptist soothsayers.81 The strong appeal of Romanist doctrine and ritual was not the only force that kept the Catholics within the fold. Although the number of Catholics was comparatively small, Catholic leader­ ship was strong in Kentucky from the very beginning and mis­ sionary priests administered their flocks with paternal austerity. Like the l\1ethodist itinerant they traveled thousands of miles, n1ostly on horsebark, never thinking of their own comfortS or THE GREAT REVIVAL AND ITS AFTERMATH 141 their O\Vn desires. Constantly moving from point to point it was only on rare occasions that they slept in the same house two con­ secutive nights. On many nights they did not sleep at all so busy were they hearing confessions and teaching the catechism to penitent men, women, and children from dusk to dawn. Al­ though hardship and privation stalked their trail the frontier priests seldom complained. Their one desire and ambition was to carry the cross to all the members of their widely scattered flock and their only regret was that they could not attend their spiritual needs more often. 82 Only men of robust physique and tremendous moral courage could have survived this tremendous test. But frontier priests were known for their learning and their wit as well as their physical strength and it was not uncommon, especially in the early years of the century, for them to win the friendship of Protestant and recalcitrant Catholic alike and to be treated with respect and confidence wherever they ·\vent. This was a signal achievement in a country where Catholic priests were "suspic­ ioned on sight" by the non-Catholic population. In addition to bringing Catholic ritual and Catholic faith in­ to many homes and into many hearts, the Catholic missionaries materially strengthened the church by building log chapels throughout Kentucky. In later years, priests and bishops con­ tinued the good work of the pioneers and constructed churches, cathedrals, and schools. In the late ante-bell um period the f oun­ dations were laid for the famous monastery of the Cistercians near Bardstown. Typical of the men who carried Catholicism into Kentucky and the Middle West were Reverend Stephen Theodore Badin, Reverend Charles Nerinckx, Right Reverend Benedict Josephy Flager, and the Most Reverend Martin John Spalding. Badin and Nerinckx are regarded by Catholic historians as the fathers of the church in Kentucky. Flaget became the first bishop of the ~rea ( the see was established at Bardstown in 1 808) and Spald­ ing, after considerable experience in the Ohio V ~lley was ele­ vated to the archbishopric of Baltimore in 1864. CHAPTER VIII ON THE FRINGE OF SOCIETY

LOSELY related to Kentucky religious, scientific, and so­ cial life was the growth of a humanitarian spirit which ex­ pressedC itself in a desire to care for unfortunates who were un­ fit for normal social intercourse. Certain leaders in public life became conscious of society's obligations to the deaf, the in­ sane, the blind, and the criminal element. Even politicians be­ came interested in modifying the penal code and in the construc­ tion of state-controlled social institutions. This movement was not local. It was the Kentucky phase of a national crusade that had as its objectives prison reform and the careful consideration of the problems created by the pres­ ence in society of those who were afflicted with physical and mental defects. More humane laws, the construction of better prisons, the building of homes for the mentally unbalanced, and the estbalishment of schools for the deaf and the blind were some of the results of this refarm movement. In 1798, the Kentucky legislature provided a new code of penal law which was modeled after the newly revised codes of Virginia and Pennsylvania. Before this date, Kentucky, at least in theory, fallowed the old penal code of Virginia which pro­ vided the death sentence for treason, murder, burglary, man­ slaughter, rape, buggery (with man or beast), perjury, forgery, arson, and grand larceny. The fundamental purpose of the Ken­ tucky act of 1798 was to amend these harsh laws inherited from colonial days, in order that the criminal might be given the justice so commonly associated with a democratic system of government. The preamble to this act was very well ex­ pressed and deserves a complete quotation. Whereas, it frequently happens that wicked and dissolute men, resign­ ing then1selves to the domination of inordinate passions, commit viola­ tions on the laws, liberties, and properties of others; and the secure en­ joyment of these having principally induced men to enter into society, ON THE FRINGE OF SOCIETY 143 governn1ent would be defective in its principal purpose \Vere it not to restrain such criminal acts by inflicting due punishment on those who perpetrate them; but it appears at the same tin1e, equally deducible, from the purposes of society, that a member thereof, committing an inferior injury, does not wholly forfeit the protection of his fellow-citizens; but, after su:ff ering punishment in proportion to his offense, is entitled to protection from all greater sufferings; so that it becomes the duty in the legislature to arrange in a proper scale the crimes which it may be necessary for them to repress, and to adjust thereto a corresponding gradation of punishment; and whereas, the reformation of offenders, an object highly meriting the attention of the laws, is not effected at all by capital punishments, which exterminate instead of reforming, and should be the last melancholy resource against those ,·vhose existence has become inconsistent with the safety of their fellow-citizens; which also weakens the state by cutting off so many, who, if reformed, might be restored sound members of society; who, even under a course of labor, might be rendered useful to the community, and who would be living and long-continued examples to deter others from committing the like offenses; and f orasmuch as experience, in all ages and countries, has shown that cruel and sanguinary laws defeat their own purpose, by en­ gaging the benevolence of mankind to withhold prosecutions, to smother testimony, or to listen to it with bias, and by introducing in many in­ stances a total dispensation and immunity, under the names of pardon and benefit of clergy, and when, if the punishment were only propor­ tionate to the injury, men would feel it their inclination as well as their duty, to see the laws observed; for rendering crimes and punishments, therefore, more proportionate to each other, be it enacted that no crime whatsoever, committed by any free person against this commonwealth, except murder in the first degree, shall be punished ,vith death within the same.1

First degree murder was defined as premeditated killing by poison, gun, knife, or by any other method. Murder committed in the perpetration or attempt to perpetrate arson, rape, or burg­ lary was also classified as first degree. The punishment for sec­ ond degree murder was not less than five nor more than eight years. Treason, grand larceny, rape, arson, and all other crimes ,vere punishable with sentences ranging from six months to twenty-one years. The courts were given the prerogative of sentencing second offenders to a twenty-five year term.2 The criminal who committed what the law termed a major offense ,vas forced to spend from one twentieth to one half of his prison sentence in solitary confinement. The actual amount of solitude 144 ANTE-BELLUM KENTUCKY that a prisoner was forced to endure was detern1ined by the court that tried the case. 3 Additional legislation in 1 801 and in subsequent years brought many ne\v crimes and misdemeanors within the penal code. For example, adultery, fornication, profane swearing and drunk­ eness were punishable by a fine. Offenders guilty of riot, dis­ turbing church worshippers, inter£ ering with a n1inister while in the pulpit, or altering cattle brands were obliged to serve shon terms in prison in addition to the fine imposed by the court. These laws did not pertain to slaves who were judged by a special code. 4 In addition to reforming the penal code the act of 1 798 made provision for a state penitentiary. This institution was con­ structed in Frankfort in 1799 and began to function immediately. According to an early set of by-laws the convicts started their daily labor at sunrise and worked eight to ten hours with time out for breakfast and dinner. They were allowed to walk in the prison yard at certain designated periods provided they \Vere properly guarded. Gambling was forbidden, but sports were allowed provided the keeper of the prison gave his permission. The prisoners were encouraged to read in their spare time and to attend the religious services that were conducted in the jail on Sunday. The hair and beards of the male inmates were closely shaven. Hands and faces were washed every day before break­ fast, but no one was allowed to take a bath except by special permission. Each convict washed his clothes every Saturday and laundered his bedding when ordered to do so by the keeper.5 Each male convict received a new wardrobe each year. This consisted of two pairs of linen overalls, two shirts, and one hunt­ ing shirt of brown linen, two pair of linsey overalls, two linsey hunting shirts, one linsey waistcoat, two pairs of woolen socks, two pair of shoes, and a cloth cap. The women .received two shifts, two petticoats, two short gowns, one bonnet, and a pair of shoes for the summer season. The winter season brought heavier clothing including two petticoats, two linsey gowns, two pair of wollen stock ens, and a pair of heavy shoes. All the cloth used in this apparel, for both the men and the women, was checked with a deep shade of yellow. The women were con­ fined in separate quarters and were never allowed to communi- ON THE FRINGE OF SOCIETY 145 cate with the men. i\-1ale and female inmates received the same type of food. The prison diet was based on meat, vegetables, brea~ and milk. The quality of the food ,vas often open to question. In n1any respects the first twenty years of the prison's history proved unsatisfactory to the government and to the public. The building was believed to be insecure and certain educational pro­ grams for the benefit of the prisoners were impracticable be­ cause of an overcrowded condition. According to Governor John Adair one of the defects in the prison management was the omission of solitary confinement, a method that was being prac­ ticed with marked success at the New York state prison at Au­ burn. "Absolute and compulsory solitude," declared Governor Adair in 182 1, "when adopted as a punishment and inflicted for a season only, has been found productive of the most bene­ ficial results. It is the inquisition of the soul and the tyrant of every vice. " 6 In 1829, with the addition of new cells to the Kentucky pen­ itentiary, it vvas possible to at least experiment with the solitary system. The most dangerous criminals were locked in private cells at night and they were not allowed to communicate with any one during the day. This method of prison discipline at­ tracted attention not only in the state but also throughout the nation, partly because it was based on the Auburn plan which had been given national publicity and which had actually re­ formed hardened criminals. However, in a short time, the Ken­ tucky prison ,vas over crowded once again and the solitary system became an impossibility. One of the most efficient keepers of the Kentucky prison in the ante-bell um period was Joel Scott, a man who firmly be­ lieved in the solitary system, but because of circumstances be­ yond his control he was not always able to put his theories into practice. Scott took over the management of the prison in 182 5 at a time when the institution was described as being in a wretched condition. The convlcts were in rags, Leds were brok­ en, clothes were filthy, and two or three inmates were sleeping in cells intended for only one occupant. Even the prison yard had been neglected so that Scott found it little more than a rub­ bish heap. ANTE-BELLUM KENTUCKY Within a short time, the efficient Scott procured proper cloth­ ing for all the prisoners and then inaugurated a reform program that produced good results. The yard was cleaned up and made suitable for recreational purposes. New shops were constructed and labor saving machinery was installed. A complete textile division was organized that boasted a carding machine, a forty­ spindle billy, and three sixty-spindle looms? While the overcrowded condition of the institution made it impossible for keeper Scott to employ the solitary technique, he did insist on the rule of silence. In work shops no conversation was permitted and only the foreman was allowed to give in­ structions or advice with respect to the work at hand. In the dining room a special code was used to communicate the prison­ ers' wishes to the attendants. One hand held up was the signal for bread. A spoon waved in the air told the waiter that the prisoner was anxious for a second serving of soup. A knife was the symbol for meat and a fork designated vegetables. If a con­ vict wanted milk, coffee, or water he held his cup above his head. 8 The most trying and certainly the most dangerous situation that occurred during the Scott regime was the cholera epidemic that struck the prison in 183 3. With one or two exceptions every prisoner in the institution was struck down by the black hand of the plague and for three months all routine business was at a standstill. Scott, his son, two physicians, and as many vol­ unteers as could be mustered for the dangerous service, worked day and night prescribing, nursing, and doctoring. There was no hospital or infirmary and in order to give fresh air to the sick and the dying all doors and windows were left open day and night. Disease turned the prison into a house of horror. Scott himself contracted the disease and his illness left him in such a weakened condition that he resigned his position in 1834.9 Ac­ cording to his own statement he had changed the prison "from a den of filth and corruption to the dignity of respectability."10 Without a doubt, Scott's reforms were necessary and worth­ while but the improvements that he made were not permanent. Within a decade the prison was again a den of filth and corrup­ tion. Cells were infected with fleas and lice and the kitchen and dining rooms were alive with roaches. Furniture was falling ON THE FRINGE OF SOCIETY 147 apart and cooking utensils were rusty and almost useless. When Dorothea Lynde Dix visited Frankfort in the winter of 1845- 1 846 she told the Kentucky legislature that the penitentiary was not a model. She complained about the condition of the women's quarters and the poor ventilation throughout the institution. She discovered that the prison was whitewashed only once a year. Every respectable prison, she said, was ,vhitewashed at ieast once a month. Finally she compared the Kentucky institu­ tion with Sing Sing and the comparison was not complimentary to Kentucky's home for criminals. The recommendations of this refonner were received with kindness and some of them were actually acted upon before 1860. For example, the women ,vere given a new and better-equipped building in 1858.11 Kentuckians did not exert all their humanitarian and reform­ ing spirit on the state prison. The mentally unbalanced, the deaf, and the blind were all given considerable attention. Kentucky was one of the first states in the Union to provide institutional protection and care for the insane. During the first two decades of the nineteenth century the state authorized county courts to pay private citizens to care for those. of unsound mind. This ar­ rangement proved to be unsatisfactory for a number of reasons. There was no attempt at proper discipline and there was no pro­ vision for regular medical attention. Frequently the insane were exposed to the curious observation of strangers and sometimes their keepers were cruel and inhuman. Under such deplorable circumstances, cases of partial derangement became incurable, and the patients became a threat to the peace and security of the neighborhood. 12 Governor Adair su1nmed up the situation in 1821 when he declared that "the bounty of the state is squand­ ered and the miseries of its subjects aggravated."13 Believing that the state had a sacred obligation with respect to those unfortunates who had been deprived of their reason, Adair recommended the establishment of a state controlled in­ stitution which would shelter the insane. The result of this hu­ manitarian plea was the establishment of a state lunatic asylum in Lexington which received its first patients in 1824.14 The asylum was a renovated hospital that had been erected by the Masons in 181 7 and later abandoned. It was sixty-six by sixty­ three feet, three stories high, and with accommodations for ANTE-BELLUM KENTUCKY seventy patients. By 18 30 the plant had been enlarged to house one hundred patients and was called Eastern Kentucky Insane Asylum. A small separate building was constructed for the more violent cases and living quarters for the superintendent and his staff, including the resident physician, were added.15 The rooms in the main building were heated with hot air from a central heating plant in the basement, but this furnace equipment was inadequate in severe winter weather. It seems evident that some of the patients, if not all of them, suffered from the cold. During the warm season the asylum was reason­ ably comfortable and the extensive and well-landscaped grounds were very pleasant. 16 In 1824, the state appointed a comission of ten men to examine all the applications for admission. They were instructed to admit only those who were "actually lunatics or of unsound mind." The work of this selective committee was more efficient when case histories were presented with the applications. However, detailed medical biographies were not always obtainable. The desirable case history covered the following points: age and habits of the patient, length of time the patient had been diseased, supposed causes, whether or not the disease was hereditary, the length of time the patient had received medical treatment, the type of treatment used and the results. However, many cases were paupers who had no friends or family connection and con­ sequently it was difficult to obtain accurate information with respect to their illness. 17 The unbalanced inhabitants of the asylum \vere classified un­ der three types. The first included idiots who were helpless as far as their own condition \Vas concerned. They could not wait on themselves and demanded constant watching if allowed out of their rooms or cells. The second \Vas capable of attending to a certain extent to their wants and necessities. The third class consisted of convalescents who were permitted to perform do­ mestic duties in the house and to do a limited amount of work in the stables and in the garden owned by the institution. There were very few restrictions on the third class, but the first two types were closely supervised and it was customary to keep the more violent cases on a restricted diet.18 The inmates were usually well supplied with plain but nour- ON THE FRINGE OF SOCIETY 149 ishing food, although the quality and variety was never con­ stant over a period of years. In 183 o, a typical breakfast at the asylum consisted of corn and wheat bread, butter, coffee or milk, and molasses. Dinner included soup, meat, vegetables, and bread. The purchase of food for the institution called for con­ siderable planning and business ability, and the task was usually handled by the superintendent. In 183 8, the f ollo\ving provisions ~,ere purchased: 13,918 pounds of beef, 14,502 pounds of pork, 15,976 pounds of flour, 563 bushels of meal, 161 dozen eggs, 247 pounds of rice, thirty-six bushels of turnips, sixty-seven bushels of potatoes, forty-one bushels of salt, 3,916 pounds of sugar, 1,488 pounds of coffee, fifty-one pounds of tea, 109 gallons of mola~es, 1, 198 pounds of butter, four cows, and five shoats.19 Discipline was one of the most important problems in the insane asylum. Implements of punishment and terror were for­ bidden, but the violent patient was locked in his cell or tied in an easy chair called the "tranquilizer." Sometimes vicious or mischievous inmates were secured with leather muffs to keep them out of trouble. One of the most effective punishments for a rebellious patient was to pour a pitcher of cold water over his head. Whenever possible discipline \Vas secured by politeness and kindness, by suggestion rather than by force. Although the violent cases were by necessity confined to their quarters, the harmless inmates were given opportunities for exercise and recreation. In good weather the convalescents \Vere taken on conducted tours into the country or even into Lexington. Amusements such as music, cards, dominoes, chess, and various types of organized games were considered an indis­ pensable part of the daily routine. Religious services were con­ ducted on Sunday and a majority of the patients attended and behaved "with the greatest propriety." It seems that life in this house for the mentally unfit was as normal as the circumstances ,vould permit. In 1843, a joint committee appointed by the state legislature reported that the asylum was "filled with the sound of cheerful voices, delightful n.usic, and not inftequently the sound of merry laughter."20 At nine o'clock each night the "shatterpated" inhabitants of the asylum went to bed. Breakfast was served at an early hour, and each person was expected to be up in time to wash his hands ANTE-BELLUM KENTUCKY and face and comb his hair before eating the morning meal. Baths were allowed only once a week. The men shaved twice a week and the women were given clean dresses very four days. The men were given new clothes at longer intervals. 21 While it was true that the deranged men and women in the asylum were as well treated as the available facilities would al­ low, it was also true that many opportunities to improve the en­ tire situation were overlooked. Haphazard alterations eventually impaired the ventilation system ,vhich had never been perfect. Constant trouble was experienced with ineffective drainage pipes and ditches. By mid-century, over crowding, outworn equipment, and poor sanitatary conditions produced a high mor­ 22 tality rate that caused the state embarrassment. · After considerable agitation by philanthropists, including Dr. John R. Allen, Superintendent of the Lexington Asylum, the legislature decided to construct an additional hospital for the in­ sane near Hopkinsville. The new building was opened in 1851 ,vhen a special inspection committee found it to be "a most ele­ gant and substantial structure in which all unnecessary ornament has been scrupulously avoided, built "\\rith direct reference to the purpose intended with the most complete and perfect success."23 According to the architect's plans, this "most elegant and sub­ stantial structure" was four stories high, seventy-nine feet six inches long by forty-nine feet two inches deep, with a portico of six limestone and brick Ionic columns five feet in diameter. All the bedrooms open directly on corridors and each room had an outside window and a transom over the door. Each room was equipped with a ventilating flue that carried foul air into the attic where it was forced outdoors by a large ventilator. There were ten hot-air furnaces in the basement, four water closets and four bathrooms on each floor, and t,velve dining rooms in various sections of the building. The dining rooms were served by dumb waiters from a basement kitchen. The building was supplied with spring water that ,vas forced into attic tanks by hydraulic pumps. What was described as an adequate sewer carried slops to a nearby stream. 24 It seemed that the Hopkinsville institution ( which became known as the Western Kentucky Insane Asylum) was well­ equipped and well-arranged and that all the weaknesses of the ON THE FRINGE OF SOCIETY Lexington Asylum had been carefully avoided. However, in 1859, the managers of the Western Asylum reported that the building was "ill prepared" for severe winter ,veather. All the patients suffered and some of them died from exposure. In the following spring an epidemic of dysentery struck the institution and ten deaths were recorded. The disease was caused by pol­ luted water and an inadequate sewer system. It was discovered that the drain pipes were too small and that they were not buried deep enough in the ground. Hard frosts cracked the pipes and spilled the sewage over the ground where it froze and thawed 25 and froze again throughout the winter months. · This was the institution that had been constructed "with the most complete and perfect success!'' While Kentucky's asylums in the early period ,vere far from perfect, nevertheless they represented an attempt to give un­ fortunates of unsound mind proper care and attention. In general, it would seem that the various superintendents were genuinely interested in their responsibilities and they made a noble attempt to give the lunatics in their custody the best home and the best medical attention that was possible under existing circumstances. It was not the fault of superintendents that the buildings were poorly constructed and inadequately equipped. On the contrary, they should be given credit for accomplishing as much as they did. From 1824 to 1858 the asylum in Lexington received 2,389 patients, or a yearly average of one hundred and twenty. This number represented many more than the institution could ac­ commodate comfortably, but in spite of adverse conditions eight hundred and eighty-two patients, apparently restored to health, had been returned to society by 1858.26 The movement that produced insane asylums and prison re­ f onn also created an interest in the deaf and dumb. The first school for the deaf in the United States was opened at Hart­ ford, Connecticut in 18 17 by Thomas H. Gallaudet and Laurent Clerc. At that time one school was considered sufficient for the entire nation and so Gallaudet called the institution The Ameri­ can Asylum. But it soon became apparent that the number of dea~ mutes was greater than had been supposed and before 1830 additional schools sprang up in New York, Pennsylvania, Ohio, and Kentucky. ANTE-BELLUM KENTUCKY In Kentucky, the first asylum for the deaf and dumb was in­ corporated in 182 2, and in 182 3 the institution began its career in a rented frame building in Danville. 27 The first principal was David C. Irvine who played a new type of confidence game by representing himself as an educated deaf-mute. The imposter's trickery was discovered after several weeks and he was dis­ charged. DeWitt Clinton Mitchell succeeded to the office. Mit­ chell had had a year's experience in the New York school for the deaf but he failed to impress the board of directors of the Ken­ tucky school and so he resigned in 182 5. Meanwhile, in r 824, an outstanding student at Centre College, John Adamson Jacobs (1806-1869) had been appointed a~ist­ ant to the superintendent. With the approval of the board Jacobs entered the American Asylum at Hanford, Connecticut in order to study with Gallaudet and Clerc and to observe the deaf stu­ dents in the class room. After thirteen months of study, observa­ tion, and counselling, Jacobs returned to Danville in 1825 and assumed the office of superintendent after Mitchell resigned. Jacobs proved to be a competent administrator and with the cooperation of the legislature he was able to establish an institu­ tion that gradually obtained more than a local reputation. New buildings were constructed, new pupils were received, and the teaching staff was increased. At the beginning of the Civil War the complete plant consisted of dormitories, class rooms, work shops, a chapel, a library, and a museum. There were nearly one hundred students in attendance, and the teaching staff consisted of six especially trained instructors. But the public ,vas slow to respond to this humanitarian ef­ fort, and Jacobs was often disheartened by the prejudices main­ tained by the parents of deaf children. Primarily because of lack of parental discipline, young deaf mutes learned to use intoxicating liquors and to become thieves. They possessed no idea of property rights and developed the habit of appropriati~g to themselves whatever they saw that pleased them. Because therr children had physical handicaps, parents were inclined to over­ look these faults and criminal actions, and in some cases they became most indignant when authorities suggested that their children be educated in the deaf and dumb asylum. 28 Some deaf mutes, although their minds were blanks, were ON THE FRINGE OF SOCIETY 153 men1bers of a church, and Jacobs thought that such cases should aive hin1 just cause to promote the advantages of his school. In certain instances, ho,vever, he was to suffer disappointment. \:Vhen he pleaded \Vith the parents to send their deaf children to the institution in order that they might be properly educated in the ,vays of Christianity~ he was blithely told that the preach­ ers ,vere making Christians out of the children even though they kne,v neither God nor Christ. One mother was certain that her deaf and dumb daughter was a Christian because one day on the way to church "she had a strange feeling come over her as if she ,vas stuck with pins. "29 The Danville institution for the deaf accepted students be­ nveen the ages of ten and thirty, but Jacobs preferred to en­ roll them as young as possible in order that their training might begin before they developed criminal or vicious habits. It was believed that the child of ten or twelve had the best chance to learn. "His unsophisticated mind and heart," wrote the super­ intendent, "yield ready assent to revealed truth, and bow to its teachings with childish simplicity. In a f e,v years the barrier between him and his fellow men is broken down and by the writ­ ten symbols hitherto unknown and unmeaning (sic) to him, he rapidly converses with them, and greatly enjoys his new privi­ lege."30 The school used the American system of instruction which ,vas based on the French system of Sicard and De L 'Epee. It consisted of significant signs and gesticulations adopted to com­ municate to the deaf mutes a practical education. A Frank£ort newspaper gave a good description of the purpose of the Amer­ ican system when it declared: "The Deaf and Dumb are taught to write and understand our written language, and by this means they are elevated from a state not greatly above the beasts of the fields to their proper rank in the human species-made cap­ able of exchanging views with their fell ow men-to understand their relations to their God-to transact business and become useful members of society. " 31 Jacobs approved of the American System because it was elastic enough to permit experimentation. He declared that the ?"1o~t important feature of the system was "its free spirit, that Is, It freely receives what is good from all quarters and by a 1 54 ANTE-BELLUM KENTUCKY plastic energy . . . gives a homogeneous form to the resulting whole."32 Tuition at the institution for the deaf was free but other ex­ penses, including board, totaled $ 105 per session of ten weeks. The state met all the expenses of those pupils who were so un­ fortunate as to have poverty stricken parents. However, stu­ dents supported by the state ,vere under obligation to remain seven years. Each deaf mute accepted by the school was furn­ ished with comfortable clothing, a trunk, two pocket hand­ kerchiefs, and a comb. 33 The average daily schedule at the asylum was nicely balanced between work and relaxation. Time was devoted to classroom exercises, to study of assigned lessons, and to shop \vork, gard­ ening and housekeeping. Students were allowed to choose their own place for study and so it was not unusual to find the boys using nearby ,voods and pastures as study halls ,vhile the girls preferred to prepare their lessons under the shade trees in the yard or around the cozy hearth in the superintendent's house. Saturday was always a holiday and Sunday was devoted to re­ ligious services. 84 Compared with the insane asylums, Kentucky's institution for the deaf had a remarkable health record. There was very little illness and between 18 35 and 18 55 only two deaths were reported and one of these was accidental. The most common disease among the students was ophthalmia, an inflamation of the eyeball. The ailment usually responded to Thompson's eye­ water and a good dose of epsom salts. Jacobs was justly proud of the general good health of his little community and he as­ serted that it was the result of a simple, four point program of cleanliness, good food, exercise, and proper ventilation of sleep­ ing quarters. 35 T ,venty years after Kentucky established its asylum for the deaf the state legislature gave legal sanction to an act that created the Kentucky Institution for the Education of the Blind. In the spring of 1 842 the institution began its humanitarian work in a rented building in Louisville. In the beginning this school re­ ceived financial assistance from three quarters: private benevo­ lence, a certain percentage of the common school fund, and tu~­ tion collected from the students who could afford to pay their ON THE FRINGE OF SOCIETY 155 o\vn ,vay. A small amount of money was also collected from the sale of articles manufactured by the students. 36 However, as the years passed private donations became smaller and smaller and by 1860 the institution ,vas entirely dependent upon the munificence of the state legislature. But ,vith complete state control all tuition charges were eliminated and blind children, rich and poor, were admitted to the school as ,vards of the com­ mon,vealth. 37 All those who sought admission to the school were requested to make out an application which contained the following ques­ tions:

1. What is the name of the applicant? 2. When and where born? 3. What are the names of the parents? 4. Are they living? 5. What is the name of the post office nearest their address? 6. What are the pecuniary circumstances of the parents? 7. Is the blindness total? 8. If not, what degree of vision remains? 9. How was the blindness produced? 10. Is the applicant of good natural capacity and free from bodily defects and offensive and infectious diseases? 1 1. Are there other instances of blindness in the same familv or among their relations? ~

Applicants had to be at least six and not more than twenty­ two years of age. They came from all sections of the state and from tvery condition of life. Some represented uneducated and poverty stricken families while others had been brought up in the lap of luxury. The majority came from the middle class homes. With respect to mental capacity they represented all gradations. Some were very intelligent, some exhibited special talents in music, literature, or mechanics, and a few were only a shade removed from idiocy. Socially they were all eligible for the same privileges. Scholastically they were advanced as rapidly as they could digest the knowledge presented to them. According to the report of the trustees in 1860 "every pupil in the school is in some regard an interesting pupil, and deserves commendation for industry and even for progress. " 38 The curriculum in the school for the blind compared favor- ANTE-BELLUM KENTUCKY ably with the schedule of courses in the schools for normal children. There "\Vas a marked difference, of course, in methods. For example, arithmetic was taught mentally and by means of slate frames or ciphering boards containing square cavities for the reception of movable figures resembling printer's type. Ge­ ography was taught orally, and specially constructed relief maps and globes enabled the students to feel the location of towns, rivers, mountains, lakes, islands and political boundaries. English grammar was taught orally, and the students learned to read from books printed in the Braille or a similar system. One or two of the more advanced students studied Latin, philosophy, geometry, physiology, and anatomy. Choral music was a regular feature of the curriculum and those who showed the necessary talent were instructed to play the piano. 39 Although in the early years of its existence the school did not have a well-equipped shop, nevertheless the students were instructed in various arts and crafts. Many of them showed con­ siderable skill in the manufacture of brushes, mattresses, lamp guards, cushions, beads, fancy baskets, and articles of silk and wool. Public interest was stimulated by the maintenance of a salesroom in the workshop where the various types of handi­ craft were placed on sale at a reasonable price.40 The cost of the curriculum was high when compared to a similar course of study provided for normal children. A Bible printed in ordinary type cost only a few cents but one printed for the blind cost from twenty dollars to thirty dollars. The same comparison held good all down the line. An ordinary slate cost a few pennies, but a slate prepared for the use of the blind was valued at ten dollars. Regulation maps were marketed at five dollars but relief maps for the use of boys and girls who could not see cost twelve times as much. Globes and other ap­ paratus were proportionately expensive. In 1861, it was esti­ mated that the annual cost of supporting and educating each blind child was $ 140.45, a figure that was considered exorbitant in those days. 41 Kentucky's school for the blind was operated on a strictly regulated time schedule. The students were awakened from their slumbers at five-fifteen in the morning. The period from seven to eight was bracketed for breakfast and recreation. Class room ON THE FRINGE OF SOCIETY ,vork in reading, writing, spelling, arithmetic, geography, and vocal music \Vas scheduled between eight o'clock and the noon dinner and recreation hour. Most of the afternoon was given over to instrumental music and shop work. The supper period began at five-thirty and ended at seven. Following supper came a story telling and reading hour after which the older students prepared their lessons for the next day. The little children re­ tired for the night at eight. Everybody was in bed by nine­ thirty.42 This routine was varied from time to time in order to allow certain boys and girls to perform in nearby cities. For example, in January, 1 844, six boys and seven girls were allowed to leave the institution long enough to conduct an "exhibition" in the hall of the House of Representatives in Frankfort. They displayed and offered for sale baskets, mattresses, brushes, and cushions. Yet it was their ability to read and to perform on musical instru­ ments that astonished the audience. "They displayed a remark­ able faculty for reading," declaring a reporter for the Daily Com­ monwealth, "and a most surprising degree of perfection in vocal and instrumental music."43 The Kentucky Tribune went into journalistic ecstasies attempting to describe the vocal efforts of one of the blind girls. "One little girl in particular," asserted this paper, "seemed to have the voice of an angel, and poured forth such thrilling symphonies as roused to painful intensity the heart-strings of the hearers."44 The teaching staff at the institution for the blind varied in number in proportion to the student enrollment and to the money available. At all times there were at least two regular teachers in addition to the director and special or part-time teachers were employed to conduct special classes once or twice a week. During the period under review the school was directed by Bryce M. Patten who had given up a lucrative private busi­ ness in order to devote his life to the education of the blind. He managed the institution efficiently and intelligently and achieved some noteworthy results. Among other assets, P~tten had the ability to get along with the members of the board of trustees, a group of critical and demanding gentlemen. It would seem that the trustees finally realized the ability of the superintendent and in their report for 1860 they asserted graciously that Patten's ANTE-BELLUM KENTUCKY success was the result of "his fidelity, his thorough scholarship, his perfect mastery of the entire subject of the education of the blind.''45 The most outstanding teacher in the institution was Joseph B. Smith who was regarded by Louisville citizens as an institu­ tion in himself. Smith lost his sight in infancy and at the age of nine was placed in the Institution for the Blind in Boston. Later he entered Harvard University and was graduated in r 844. He had the distinction of being the first blind man to graduate from an institution of higher learning in the United States. Immed­ iately after his graduation from Harvard he accepted the posi­ tion of professor of music at the Kentucky Institute for the Edu­ cation of the Blind. He retained this position until his death in I 8 59.46 Endowed with an active and vigorous mind and with an in­ satiable thirst for knowledge, Smith continued his studies in his spare time until he became a thorough scholar. He was well versed in Greek and Latin and spoke fluently both French and German. The best English literature was as essential to his hap­ piness as food and shelter. His special field was music and it was claimed that his knowledge of the theory of music was amazing. His study was well-stocked with the music of all the great com­ posers and the inspiration that he drew from Beethoven, Bach, and Handel found creative expression in compositions of his own. Smith's death ,vas regarded as a great loss not only to the school that he served so well but also to the city of Louis­ 4 ville where he had many private pupils and a host of f riends. j The Kentucky Institution for the Education of the Blind, like so many institutions, was in a precarious position during the Civil War, but the school had been so firmly established by such men as Patten and Sn1ith that the forces of sectional conflict could not destroy it. CHAPTER IX GROWTH OF THE ARTISTIC SPIRIT

HERE ARE many cricerions of social progress including educational standards, religious freed om, and scientific Tcontributions. There is also the artistic spirit which may be appreciative or creative or both. Ante- bellum Kentucky nur­ tured a small group of artists and craftsmen whose work in architecture, portrait painting, and sculpturing was duly praised both by men and women of genuine culture and by the newly rich who believed that one way to receive social recognition was to patronize the arts. Students of the arts have observed that the spirit of a people and their cultural concepts are usually expressed with as much accuracy in their architecture as in their social institutions. While this may be a general truth, it is well to remember that the development of architectural form may be restricted by en­ vironmental conditions such as climate, type of economy, natural enemies, and availability of building materials. On the Kentucky frontier the log cabin or log house was the logical solution to the immediate problem of protection and shelter from the ,veather, Indians, and wild beasts, although the builder might have en­ visioned a more pretentious structure as the ideal homestead. These primative, frontier homes were built of horizontal logs, flattened on two sides in order to obtain stability. It was cust­ omary for the logs to interlock at the corners so that the ends projected about one foot. Logs were chinked with rocks and mud Yvhich formed a crude insulation and gave spme protection against damp winter winds and the burning heat of mid-summer. In some cases two cabins were constructed with a "dog trot" porch connecting the two structures. The dog trot passageway served as a combination lavatory, woodshed, and storeroom.1 The frontier housewife did all her cooking at a large stone fireplace. In early days the chimney above the great gaping throat of the fireplace was made of sticks and clay, but these 160 ANTE-BELLUM KENTUCKY materials presented such a dangerous fire hazard that they soon disappeared in favor of more durable stone. The roof of the frontier cabin was covered with home-made shingles. Dirt floors were common, but the better-made cabin had a puncheon floor. Windows, where they existed, were covered with skins, or per­ haps with heavy paper made translucent by an application of bear grease. Heavy wooden shutters were also quite common and gave a greater degree of protection against the elements.2 As time elapsed, the earliest log house evolved into a more elaborate structure made of hewn squared logs. Stone f ounda­ tions became more common, stone chimneys made their ap­ pearance, and, in some cases, houses with two stories were erected. Perhaps the first brick house constructed in the state was the William Whitley house ( 1786) in Lincoln County. About the tum of the century, stone and brick houses became more numerous and eventually the more elegant homes of this type were classified as Federal or Georgian. Other structures which displayed similar architectural features soon followed. This group included Federal Hill near Bardstown which, be­ cause of its association with Stephen Foster, is now called My Old Kentucky Home. A list of the better-known Federal and Georgian houses would include Clay Hill in Harrodsburg, Woodlawn in Madison County, the Benjamin Gratz House in Lexington, Wickland near Bardstown, Liberty Hall in Frank­ fort, and the home of Mrs. Charles Norton in Millersburg. The Greek Revival in America, a movement that was fathered by Benjamin Lathrobe and Thomas Jefferson at the turn of the century, reached Kentucky in the third decade of the nineteenth century. About 182 5 Hellenized details began to appear in Ken­ tucky buildings, and between 182 5 and 183 o the transition from the Georgian to the classical style was very rapid. The growth of the movement in Kentucky was due primarily to the influ­ ence of the young architect, Gideon Shryock. Shryock was born in Lexington, November 15, 1802, the son of Mathias and Mary Elizabeth Gaugh Shryock. As his fath­ er was a "house-joiner" and contractor, it seems evident that Gideon inherited his desire and ability to draw and to build. After securing the rudiments of an education in one of Lexing­ ton's private schools, he went to Philadelphia in 182 3 eager to GRO\VTH OF THE ARTISTIC SPIRIT 161 learn all he could about the art of construction. 3 In the City of BrotherI y Love he can1e in contact with the best culture and the most able craftsmen in America. In particular, he met the archi­ tect, YVilliam Strickland, ,vho was known by this time as the n1ost gifted pupil of \Villiam Latrobe. 4 Under Strickland's tutelage, Shryock's youthful dreams crys­ talized into reality. In r 824 he returned to Lexington glowing with enthusiasm and eager to try all the magic formulas for sticks and stones that he had learned from his famous teacher. Since Strickland was a strong supporter of the Greek revival it ,vas natural for Shryock to plan and to build in terms of Hel­ lenized architecture. His first important assignment was the capitol in F rankfon, started in r 8 2 7 and completed in r 8 2 9. This edifice was built of Kentucky marble and its fine propor­ tions and quiet dignity set a precedent for public buildings in the state and tended to arouse a general interest in classic de­ sign. 5 l\!Iany features of the capitol stimulated favorable comment. The graceful Corinthian columns on the portico and in the sen­ ate chamber, the carved ceiling rosettes, the coffer ornaments, all attracted attention, but it was the rotunda with its circular, hanging stairway that amazed the public. Each stone step in this remarkable stairway was so designed that it locked into the pre­ ceding one, and the whole structure was held in place by a key­ stone at the top. Shryock planned and constructed numerous public and private buildings during his long career, but no single architectural feature in any of his later structures was so expres­ sive of his creative genius and artistic imagination as the double flight of curved steps in the state house. In the same year that the capitol was completed the main hall at Transylvania College was destroyed by fire. Two years later, in 1831 the board of trustees, which included Henry Clay, de­ cided to build a new hall in the name of James l\1orrison who had left a legacy for that purpose. Gideon Shryock, fresh from his success in Frankfort, was e!lgaged to design the project. Ac­ cording to the original plans which he submitted Morrison Hall was to be constructed of brick with a stone foundation. The center of the structure was to be forty-eight feet wide with a depth of fifty-eight feet. The Greek motif \Vas to be expressed ANTE-BELLUM KENTUCKY in a portico composed of four columns of the Doric order three feet six inches in diameter at the bottom and twenty-three feet in height. The center structure was to be flanked with wings and, according to the specifications, each wing was to be thiny­ five by thirty-eight feet and thirty feet high. The main feature of the central portion of the building was the chapel forty-five by fifty-five feet with a gallery twelve feet wide.6 All the floors in the new buildings were to be of ash. Yellow poplar shingles were to protect the roof and the bricks were to be laid in sand and lime mortar. All stone work was to be laid in lime and gravel. Each window was to be fitted with sashes containing twenty-four small glass panes. The building was to be heated by means of open grates and stoves. 7 Except for a slight increase in the dimensions, these original specifications for Morrison Hall were followed by the contrac­ tors. 8 The cholera epidemic of 183 3 slowed up the construction, but on November 4, 183 3, the new college hall was dedicated with considerable pomp. It is interesting to note that Shryock guaranteed that the building would stand for fifteen years.9 Today, after one hundred and nine years, it is still in use, its brick walls veneered with stucco, the chapel floor reinforced with a steel beam, but otherwise, with the exception of a few minor alterations, "Old Morrison" is the same as it was on the day of dedication. Speaking of Morrison Hall a prominent American architect recently declared that it was "a monument to the good taste of the generation that raised it, and a splendid testimonial to the designing and constructive abilities of its ar­ chitect. " 10 Shryock's fame spread rapidly. For the next two decades he was busy planning and erecting public buildings and private houses from the Bluegrass to the Falls of the Ohio. In Louisville he drew the plans for the medical building at the University of Louisville. The Southern National Bank, the Board of Education building, and the Jefferson County Court House all reflected his genius. The court house became a white elephant, hopelessly in­ volved in politics, and after his plans and recommendations had been altered or completely ignored, Shryock washed his hands of the project. The court house was under construction for near­ ly twenty years and in spite of the fact that the architect's or- GROWTH OF THE ARTISTIC SPIRIT 163 iginal plans were disregarded, the finished structure was re­ o-arded as a good example of Doric architecture. The Shryock fouch had managed to survive the political bickering and red tape entanglements.11 The Gothic Revival in America was contemporaneous with the Greek Revival and it was that same genius, Latrobe, who ,vas. responsible for reviving an interest in the Medieval style. Robert l\llills and William Strickland favored the Gothic to some extent and by 1 8 1 o builders in eastern seaboard cities were ex­ hibiting a mild interest in it. In Kentucky, the Gothic influence was not important before mid-century. In Louisville the congregation of the First Presby­ terian Church erected a Gothic edifice and soon the members of St. Paul's Episcopal church followed suit. The Sexton's house in the old Lexington Episcopal cemetery is still regarded as a fine example of the Gothic. This small structure was designed by John McMurtry who constructed several Gothic houses in Lexington, notably, lngelside ( 18 5 2) and Loudoun ( 1849- 1850) .12 McMurtry was interested in Greek and Roman archi­ tecture as well as the Gothic and it gave him great pleasure to experiment with combinations of Greek and Roman lines. The best example of l\1cMurtry's architectural hybrid was Botherum which he erected in Lexington in 1850. Another Lexington architect, Major Thomas Lewinski, de­ veloped a similar modification of the classical style. He rebuilt Henry Clay's Ashland in this pseudo-classic manner in 18 59. While he may have satisfied the owners of the famous estate the remodeled Ashland never caused much of a stir among archi­ tects and certainly Lewinski's art was never as impressive as Shryock's. When he turned his attention to public buildings, Lewinski was more successful primarily because he discarded his experimental ideas and returned to the simple Doric lines. His court house at Richmond, Kentucky, exhibited this unadulter­ ated classic taste.13 While architects designed and supervised the construction of fine houses they did not make them attractive homes. Interior decoration was in the hands of the owner or housewife who by a careful selection of furniture, silverware, china, and pictures added the charm that made Kentucky homes famous. Conspici- ANTE-BELLUM KENTUCKY ous an1ong the art objects \Vere family •portraits which came from the easels of Kentucky artists-J ouett, Frazier, Bush, Grimes, and Morgan. Most prominent among this school of portrait painters was Matthew Harris Jouett (1787-1827). It '\Vas about 1815 when he began to commercialize his talents by painting portraits of his acquaintances for a small fee. His artistic interests disgusted his father who declared that lV[atthew, whom he had educated to be a gentleman, was turning out to be "a damn sign painter."14 Jouett respected his father but the creative urge was too potent to be denied. In the summer of 181515 he traveled all the way to Boston on horseback16 in order to study under the celebrated portrait painter, Gilbert Stuart. "Kentucky," as Stuart called his pupil from the Bluegrass, made rapid progress and within a f e'\v months the young artist was back in Lexington making arrangements for a private studio. He now considered himself a protege of a famous artist and so he raised his price for portraits and eagerly waited for patrons. Nor was he disappointed. Within a brief space of time he had all the work that he could handle. J ouett's personality and cultural background qualified him for a successful career as a portrait painter. He was tall and handsome, well educated, and an accomplished musician. His ability to carry on an interesting conversation and his genial dis­ position made him very popular. Apparently there was nothing of the Bohemian in his character or in his habits. He was a gentle­ man who could command the respect of gentleman-and of ladies. He was a sincere and sober man although he possessed a rich sense of humor and was not devoid of romantic appeal. It is worthy of notice that his popularity was not restricted to Kentucky. On several occasions he opened temporary studios in Natchez and New Orleans and it seems evident that he was always well received by the gentry of the Deep South.17 Jouett has been credited with five hundred and twenty-nine portraits. Since he was most productive in the ten-year period from 1 8 1 7 to 182 7, it follows that he produced on the average one portrait per week during this decade. This seems incredible and some authorities doubt the authenticity of some of the so- GROWTH OF THE ARTISTIC SPIRIT 165 called Jouetts. However, this problen1 is more in1portant to the collector than to the historian. His technique resembled Stuart's, and at the tin1e he ,vas considered objective, although he did not sacrifice artistic ex­ ecution for the sake of realism. In his portraits, of course, re­ semblance ,vas necessary, but only in the matter of essentials. As a synthesist he was very clever. He analyzed his sitter, sep­ arated the dominant traits and then combined them in such a \vay that the weaker points were submerged and the strong fea­ tures were brought out in sharp relief. A list of his best works would include his portraits of Col. James Morrison, Dr. Ben­ jamin W. Dudley, and Mrs. James Blythe. By some enthusiastic admirers, J ouett has been called "The Kentucky Rubens, " 18 but any attempt to compare him with the masters of the Old World seems futile. Jouett was important in American art and he was especially important in Kentucky. \"Vhen it is remembered that he grew up almost within gunshot of the frontier and that he found his patrons in the same region his career becomes almost unique. All authorities admit that he was the best portrait painter in Kentucky and one of the best in the West and South, but an artist did not have to be a Rubens to attract attention in the undeveloped regions of the Missis­ sippi Valley. In addition to Jouett there were several other artists in Ken­ tucky whose names and contributions are now almost forgotten. There was Joseph H. Bush of Frankfort who was thoroughly imbued with the artistic urge but sadly lacking in technical training. His portraits showed a strange sense of proportion and he had a habit of exaggerating eyes so that they appeared on his canvas very large and limped as if they had been dilated with an over dose of belladonna. John Grimes and Louis Morgan were both better craftsmen than Bush but Oliver Frazer showed signs of possessing talent of a high order. He had been one of Jouett's favorite pupils and after Jouett's death, he studied in Florence, Paris, Dresden, and Rome before he opened a studio in Lexington, Kentucky. Frazer was never very productive. He ,vas in love with life but not with work. He preferred his fishing rod to his paints. Lit­ tle wonder, then, that his works were not well known even bv ,I 166 ANTE-BELLUM KENTUCKY his contemporaries and when he died only his close friends real­ ized that he had possessed a certain genius that should have been exercised more than it was. His greatest contribution to art was the encouragement and training that he gave to Samuel W. Price, a Kentucky artist "rho did his best work after the Civil vVar. Standards of criticism change with the years. In nineteenth century America there was a tendency on the part of local pat­ rons of the arts to promote with lavish exaggeration favorite sons who showed promise as poets, painters, or sculptors. A few of these budding geniuses deserved the praise they received but many did not, and time and a better perspective, have low­ ered a number of "major" artists of the early days to a more justified minor role. The ability of the Kentucky portrait painters was over­ estimated by their contemporaries and by early Kentucky his­ torians. However, in general, their work has stood the test of time. The same compliment cannot be paid to Joel T. Hart, the sculptor, who in his day ,vas considered a genius by many who should have known better. During his lifetime, Hart received many ovations for his work. He had a large and loyal following in the United States and Europe. Many extravagant comparisons were made that placed him in the front rank of the sculptors of the world. As late as 1902 a biographer asserted with oracular positiveness that Hart's contributions had never been surpassed by the Grecian or Ro­ man sculptors! 19 Today he no longer holds such an eminent posi­ tion in the history of American art. He has been taken down from his dizzy pedestal and placed in a safer and more modest niche. But even with the superlatives omitted, the story of Joel Hart is both interesting and significant. He was born near Win­ chester, Kentucky, in 181 o. At the time of his birth his parents possessed valuable property and considerable wealth, but just before he was ready to begin his schooling his father was plunged into bankruptcy. Consequently, Joel's formal education was restricted to three months in a local grammar school. There­ after, with the exception of the aid he received from other brothers, he educated himself and acquired enough information GRO\VTH OF THE ARTISTIC SPIRIT 167 to be qualified to teach the three Rs at the rate of $ r. 50 per upil.:.:u P Hart was not satisfied with the profits from school teaching so he increased his earnings by building chimneys, making cab­ inets, and \Vorking as a stone cutter. About 18 3 1 while he ,vas working as a stone cutter in Lexington he met Shobal Vail Clevenger, the Ohio sculptor, who at that time was modeling a bust of Henry Clay. After watching Clevenger at work, Hart decided that he would give up tombstone cutting and become a sculptor. It does not seem evident, however, that he was will­ ing to change his occupation merely for the sake of art. Cupid ,vas playing an important role, too, and Hart was anxious to improve his condition because of his love for a girl "of neat form though low in stature. " 21 The girl was used to luxuries. He was poor and because of his limited income he stood "in­ determinate between the extremes of celibacy and married 22 life." · As a successful sculptor he believed he would have a better chance with the lady. As it turned out, the girl of his choice married another man two years later but by this time Hart was so interested in his new profession that he had time only for his art. He made the transition from stone cutter to sculptor with remarkable ease. Without any formal training he began to model a bust of Cassius M. Clay and the finished product was ,vell received in Lexington. Other commissions followed and by 183 8 he was well established as a sculptor who had, according to his admirers, "exhibited extraordinary genius, taste, and pro­ ficiency in his art. 23 In the same year a group of prominent citi­ zens of Kentucky wrote to Andrew Jackson asserting that they desired to procure a correct likeness of the General to be pre­ served for posterity and asking permission for Hart to model his bust.~ 4 Jackson was ill at the time but he accepted the sug­ gestion of his Kentucky ·friends and welcomed Hart at the Hermitage. When the bust was completed Old Hickory was de­ lighted. In a letter to his Kentucky admirers he asserted that the bust was esteemed by all as a good likeness. "I think it equal to any that has been taken of me," he declared, "and that Mr. Hart 25 may be ranked with the best artists of the age. " · \Vith Jackson as one of his patrons, Hart's reputation spread 168 ANTE-BELLUM KENTUCKY throughout the ,,rest and con1missions poured in from all over the land. In 1845, he visited the cities of the eastern seaboard including New , ... ork, Philadelphia, vVashington, and Richmond. He carried ,vith him the bust of Cassius Clay and this example of his art advertised his skill so successfully that a group of wom­ en in Richmond engaged him to do a statue of Henry Clay, ,vhom they referred to affectionately as "Harry of the ,v est." 26 He considered this his most important assignment to date and in a letter to his friend, Thomas Nelson, he outline:d his plans: "I propose to carry out the model at Ashland, [ Henry Clay's Home] Kentucky, and execute the statue the size of life in Italy of the finest statuary marble, for five thousand dollars."27 He began work on the model of Clay in 1846 and in 1849 he had not one but several casts. He stored one in Lexington and the others, together with plaster and other equipment, he shipped to Florence. After agreeing to make "half-high copies" and statuettes from his models, Hart sailed for Europe and reached 28 Florence late in 1 849. During the next ten years Hart worked on his statue of Clay. Accidents and severe attacks of cholera and typhoid fever caused delays. Finally, in 1859 he returned to America and his statue of "Harry of the W est"was unveiled at Richmond, Virginia, with noisy applause. When he came home to Kentucky he received ovations everywhere. In Louisville a duplicate of the statue was ordered. The cheers of the Kentuckians rolled on down the Mississippi and soon New Orleans placed an order for yet another copy of the now famous statue. Success had come to the former builder of chimneys. 29 Twentieth century art critics have not been impressed with Hart's statue of Henry Clay, which still stands in Virginia's capital city. According to the late Lorado Taft "the figure ... has a look of preternatural gravity coupled with instable equi­ librium . . . But there is no getting away from the admirable ugly head. It is modeled with great sincerity and well carved; likewise it is life. " 30 Other critics have expressed the thought that ten years of work abroad should have produced a statue of greater beauty and finesse. As a matter of fact, Hart did not spend all his time in Europe carving and polishing his stone image of the Great Compro- GROWTH OF THE ARTISTIC SPIRIT 169 miser. His illness has already been mentioned but many hours were spent on an invention, hours that should have been devoted to study and an improvement of techniques. Hart called his invention a pointing instrument and he was very proud of it. He started ,vork on this fantastic machine in 18 5 2 and in 18 5 7 he had it patented by the British government. 31 According to the patent the purpose of the invention was "to assist the artist and others in obtaining with accuracy, rapidity, and simultaneously a large number of measurements from the statues and groups, and from other models, and in preserving and transferring them to marble, clay, or other material in the studio or elsewhere in the absence of the model, with perfect accuracy. " 32 Hart's invention was probably never used by anyone but himself. His contemporaries did not take his pointing instrument seriously and asserted that Hart would never have used it if another man had invented it. However, the invention gave him publicity and an increased patronage. One notice in the London press brought him ten orders for marble busts. Prominent Brit­ ish citizens were fascinated by the idea of being measured and cast by machinery. Like Jouett, Hart had many friends, men and women who were not attracted solely because of his art but because of his personality. Many of his supporters were engaged in politics or business but many of them were artists. He knew Powers, Gren­ augh, Crawford, Brown and many other American sculptors. He was a close friend of the Kentucky artist Frazer, who loved fishing better than his studio. Fortunately for the historian, two descriptions of Hart have been preserved. One, brief and concise, is found in his passport of September 2, 1 849. At this time he was thirty years old and, according to the passport, he was five-feet, nine and three­ f ounhs inches tall, with a full fore head and hazel eyes. His nose was rather long, his mouth rather large, and his chin medium. Brown hair crowned his head. His complexion was dark and his face oval. The other description was written by a phrenologist: "This gentleman has a temperament that gives great density to the brain and fibres of the body. The nervous, bilious and sanguine all seem to be blended in a high degree, giving a high amount of ANTE-BELLUM KENTUCKY physical and mental enjoyment and great physical and mental force. He is capable of enduring great hardship and exertion either bodily or mental. The vital organs are large and sustain the brain in its vigorous exercise of its powers. " 33 This, indeed, was scientific! Although the artistic qualities of Hart's work has been ser­ iously questioned in recent years, the fact remains that his con­ temporaries accepted him as a successful and gifted sculptor. While he did not exert any profound influence on the develop­ ment of art in America is seems apparent that he aroused a healthly interest in statuary in Kentucky and in other states of the union. 34 This alone was a worthwhile contribution. It should be remembered, too, that Hart was a self-made man and a self­ made artist. Early defects in his training became life long handi­ caps. The fact that he taught himself to draw explains many of the crudities in his statues. After his triumph in America he returned to Florence and died there in 1877. CHAPTER X

LETTERS AND BELLE-LETTRES

HILE Kentucky social and intellectual leaders were developing a taste for the fine arts they were also in­ Wdulging in literature. Many of the most popular books and pamphlets were native products. Indeed, if the quantity of liter­ ature produced were the only criterion needed to determine the cultural status of a people, it would be necessary to give Ken­ tucky a high rating. Between 1800 and 1860 there ,vere scores of essayists, poets, controversialists, and journalists in the state and the field of history, while not cro,vded, was well repre­ sented. Some of the most valuable books were concerned with science, a fact which has been noted elsewhere. Novel writing, however, was monopolized by outsiders, who ,vere residents of other states and who lived in Kentucky only a fe,v months in order to secure local color and to gain a fairly correct interpre­ tation of Kentucky character. In this connection it is a temptation to dwell on the novels of Mary Jane Holmes (1825-1907) who became famous as the author of Tempest and Sunshine; or Life in Kentucky and Lena Rivers. Mrs. Holmes, however, really belongs to New York state where her novels were written and published. For similar reasons Robert Montgomery Bird's novel Nick of the Woods ( 183 7) cannot be classified as Kentucky literature although the story has a Kentucky setting. Perhaps the only legitimate Ken­ tucky novel worthy of mention is John M'Clung's Camden; A Tale of the South which was published in 18 30. The background of this novel was the American Revolution. The story contained many exciting incidents, some convincing characters, a well sustained love interest, and a touch of realism that was almost unique at that time. . The vast majority of Kentucky literature was uneven in qual­ ity. Some of it was pitifully weak and amateurish (this was true especially with respect to poetry) while here and there the light ANTE-BELLUM KENTUCKY of genius flashed momentarily beneath the verbiage that was so prevalent in the writing of the times. The appearance of satire as early as 1814 is worthy of special notice and Hunt's Western Review was a highlight not only in the history of Kentucky journalism but also in the history of the cultural development of the West. Perhaps equally important was John Bradford's Ken­ tucky Gazette and of course there was the Louisville Journal which became one of the nation's most prominent newspapers under the guiding hand of editor George D. Prentice. To describe, or even mention, all the Kentucky publications before 1860 would be futile. However, it is possible to construct a reasonable cros.5-section of literary life and activity by pre­ senting representative authors, poets, and journalists. It is well to remember, too, that although the Kentucky reading public was proud of its authors it did not depend entirely on native products. Bookstores advertised the works of Shakespeare, Mil­ ton, Voltaire, Scott, Poe, Byron, and Irving and it is safe to as­ sume that these books were purchased and read. Before 1860 Kentucky's eventful history had brought a small but energetic group of worshippers to the feet of Clio. Among the early historians ,vere John Filson (1747-1788), John Brad­ ford (1749-1830), Humphrey Marshall (1760-1841), Mann Butler (1784-1852), and Lewis Collins (1797-1870). Filson's The Discovery, Settlement, and Present State of Ken­ tucke was published in 1784 and was, of course, a chronicle of the frontier. Bradford's Notes on Kentucky, which first ap­ peared as a series of articles in the Kentucky Gazette from Au­ gust 2 5, 1826, to January 9, 1829, contained valuable information on early Kentucky while Humphrey Marshall's first edition of The History of Kentucky ( 1812) gave a more formal account of early events down to 1791. In 1824, Marshall published an enlarged two volume edition of his history which gave a more complete picture of Kentucky social and political life. The author used public documents and some published material but for the most part his sources were his own observations and ex­ periences. His description of political events was biased if not inaccurate but his work was commendable because of the inter­ esting items perta1n1ng to social and economic life. A unique LETTERS AND BELLE-LETTRES 173 feature of th~ s~~ond edition was the inclusion of Rafinesque's essay on ant1qu1t1es. · Mann Butler gave up a career in the Louisville public schools1 in order to devote more time to historical writing. In 1834, he published A History of the Co1111nonwealtb of Kentucky, and in this book he took exception to many of the subjective state­ ments made by his predecessor, Marshall. Butler himself was not without bias but he did make an attempt at objectivity and in general he had a good perspective. For many years ( 18 2 o-1847) Lewis Collins was the editor of the 1vlaysville Tri-Weekly Eagle and the columns of this paper reflected his many historical interests. In 184 7, he published Historical Sketches of Kentucky which was the most important contribution to Kentucky historiography before 1 860. Accord­ ing to the preface to the first edition the purpose of the book was "to preserve in a durable form, those rich fragments of local and personal history, many of which exist at present only in the ephemeral form of oral tradition, or are treasured up among the recollections of the aged actors in the stirring scenes, the mem­ ory of which is thus perpetuated. " 2 That Collins achieved this purpose is evident from the fact that his history is still used as a standard reference book. Historical Sketches of Kentucky opened with an essay by John Alexander M'Clung, Kentucky's romantic historian and novelist. 3 However, most of the 560 closely printed pages of the book were devoted to biographies, county and town histories, sketches of religious denominations and educational institutions, and descriptions of military and political events. Not only was this work valuable in itself, but it also paved the way for the two volume History of Kentucky written and published by Col­ lin's son, Richard, in 1874. Aside from the general histories two specialized works should be given brief consideration. Frontier warfare between the British and Americans furnished the material for Robert B. M'- Afee's History of the Late War in the Western Country (1816) while religious activities inspired Robert Hamilton Bishop to write An Outline of the History of the Church in the State of Kentucky ( 1824). Although he was anti-British, M'Afee was 1 74 ANTE-BELLUM KENTUCKY a\vare of his prejudice and made apologies for it in the preface to his book:

In justice to our late enemies, as well as to myself, it may be proper to add, that my information with respect to them has unavoidably been very imperfect; and hence I may have made erroneous statements respecting them in many instances. 4

To prove that he was open minded on the subject he offered to allow any one to examine the sources which he had used as the basis for his narrative. Bishop was on the teaching staff of Transylvania University when he wrote his Outline. His book was the first to present a factual account of the rise of Kentucky's religious sects. The author was concerned especially with Presbyterian schisms and with personalities such as David Rice and Barton W. Stone. While it did not possess any distinct literary value, Bishop's volume was an important contribution to the ecclesiastical his­ tory of the West and it served to guide later church historians such as Richard M'Nemar and Robert Davidson.5 In sharp contrast to the histories of the period were several unique specimens of informal literature which came from Ken­ tucky presses in the early years of the nineteenth century. Among these books two were outstanding: A Narrative of the Life and Travels of John Robert Shaw, the Well-Digger and William Littell's satirical masterpiece The Festoons of Fancy. 6 Robert Shaw was a deserter from His Britannic Majesty's redcoat army and all his colorful adventures before and after his arrival in Kentucky are well described in his autobiography. He had been tracked by British troopers; he had tried his hand at black magic and fortune telling and even had joined the fra­ ternity of the cup and the bowl. In addition, he had taken "many a delectable frolic with the bottle and venturesome tum with the lassies" before he arrived in Kentucky in 1791 as self-appointed well-digger to the people of the Bluegrass. In Kentucky his ad­ ventures continued and he discovered that well-digging was as hazardous an occupation as soldiering. On four separate occa­ sions he was almost blown out of this world by the accidental discharge of the powder that he was using for blasting purposes. Each time he recovered, although the last accident cracked his - LETfERS AND BELLE-LETTRES 175 skull and, according to a rescuer, mashed out some of his brains. 7 The following quotation has been selected from Shaw's book as an illustration of style and incident:

For my part I went to captain Hollowback's still-house one day, with two of my fellow-soldiers and having called for a quart of whis­ key, we drank it before the fire. But upon attempting to rise, with an intention to return to the barracks, I fell down motionless, and to all appearance dead; so that the alarm went to the barracks that Shaw was dead. A company then collected to my wake, and having procured a good cag [sic] of whiskey, were determined to have a merry frolick: but they were sadly disappointed; for, as soon as the operation of the liquor began to abate, I rolled off the board upon which they had laid me, and uttered a heavy groan, accompanied by a loud explosion of flatus from beneath, which so startled the company, that they all run out swearing that the dead was come to life. However, they soon re­ turned, and conveyed me to the barracks, where I was seized with a fit of insanity, and behaved in such an outrageous manner, that they were obliged to confine me with chains and take off my clothes. But by some means, I got loose, and ran through the fort like a Bedlamite, climbed up to the roof of the barracks, and ,valking to the farther end of the ridge, jumped down, without any injury, and ran out of the garrison, until I came to the cliffs by the side of the river, from whence I leaped down, ( the distance not being less than 30 or 40 feet) to the bottom, seated myself, naked as I was, on a cake of ice, and floated for a considerable distance down the river, before my fell ow soldiers could get me off. I was then taken care of, and doctored up with a little more of the usquebaugh, which in the condition I then was, pro­ duced no bad effects, but seemed rather to contribute to the restora­ tion of my health, and the recovery of my senses. 8

William Littell, the author of The Festoons of Fancy, was a Kentucky lawyer and politician. He began his political writing in 1806 when he published Political Transactions in and Con­ cerning Kentucky. This was a serious pamphlet and did not re­ veal the author's native wit and cleverness. In r 808, he con­ tracted to publish the statute laws of Kentucky and this project took up much of his time until 1819 although he wrote and pub­ lished in the meantime several original books including Principles of Law and Equity (1808) and the famous The Festoons of Fancy which was copyrighted in May, r 81 3, but apparently was not published until the following year. 9 It seems evident that Littell secured his satirical ideas for the ANTE-BELLUM KENTUCKY Festoons from the poorly expressed la,vs which he edited by the hundreds and fron1 the electioneering methods employed by some of the politicians of the day. The book opened with a few sentimental verses and then proceeded with the business of rid­ iculing various aspects of Kentucky life including banking, in­ ternal improvements, electioneering, and divorce. Kentucky did not have a divorce law until 1 809 and this law favored the mis­ treated and misguided husband. Littell believed that women should have equal rights with men in domestic relationships and he urged the adoption of a single standard. According to Littell one of the most common complaints voiced by unhappy wives was drunkenness. Now drinking was fashionable and sociable and to ask a husband to give up his liquor entirely was unthinkable but he could arrange his drink­ ing hours so that they would not interfere with domestic hap­ piness. "Every married man who is inclined to intoxication," wrote Littell in the Festoons, "shall hereafter get drunk early enough in the morning to afford time for him to become duly sober before bed time. " 10 Another section of the book is devoted to the adventures and the expenses of a politician. This character is fictitious but he probably resembled in an exaggerated form some of Littell's acquaintances. In the passage quoted below the politician has just about reached the end of his rope and is willing to try any­ thing to secure a few extra votes.

My success the last year was not flattering, nor was it discouraging, and I offered for the Senate again. I had unfortunately read that a great man of the name of Whelks or Whilks, or some such name, had secured several elections by caressing the wives of the voters. I was a little afraid to try the experiment; but as I had tried every thing else, I ventured: the lady I had selected for the first trial was about thirty, of a pleasing inviting countenance, and very familiar-her husband was a man of influence, and consequence; but alas! she disliked me, or thought I was too forward or not forward enough, or I know not what, but she resisted me like a Tiger, raved and stormed, and called me every thing that was base and detestable: I fled from her presence, determined to abandon that mode of electioneering for ever.11

Generally speaking Littell's literary frivolity was not fully appreciated by his contemporaries. In his own day his fame as LETTERS AND BELLE-LETTRES 177 an author rested primarily on his legal treatises and his compila­ tions of the statute law, but in more recent times there has been an increased interest in his lighter works and especially in the 1 Festoons of Fancy which was reprinted in r 940. :! Controversial books, tracts, and pamphlets made up a large part of Kentucky literature during the first sixty years of the nineteenth century. These writings were inspired by a wide range of subjects and conditions: political, religious, scientific, and personal. All of it was characterized by a self-confident, bombastic, florid style and this in itself was typically southern and western. Kentucky's exhibit A in this school of writers was Dr. Charles Cald,vell who was associated first with Transylvania University and later with the Louisville Medical Institute. Caldwell was a pronounced egoist. From his own point of view, Kentucky did not have a more spectacular and versatile author. There is no doubt about his versatility and prolificne~ as he published during his life time more than two hundred pamphlets, essays, and books on a variety of subjects ranging from yellow fever to prison discipline. Many of his publications were bitter and intolerant and his denunciation of his contem­ poraries prevented him from enjoying the popularity that might have been his. He regarded himself as infallible. He was always the progressive genius while his fell ow men were "stationary and moldy, or rough and rusty."rn In Caldwell's case it is interesting to notice that his advanced schooling and scientific research and his association with the in­ Jelligentsia of Kentucky failed to discipline his fondness for florid langage. In his A Discourse on the Genius and Character of the Rev. Horace Holley he described a former president of Transylvania with elaborate phrases:

Although not himself a frequent or successful suitor in the bowers of the Muses-for he rarely attempted the witcheries of song, and never touched, with deep effect, "the minstrel's bold and high-strung lyre"-he, notwithstanding, looked on creation with the frenzied eye, and felt her charms with all the t!1rilling ecstasy of the poet.14

His last literary effort, the autobiography, contained some of his worst and some of his best writing. Again it was his severe and unjustified criticism of his contemporaries that lowered the ANTE-BELLUM KENTUCKY literary and historical value of the book. Even his colleagues did not escape. Here, for example, is his description of a fellow teacher and physician:

Dr. Lunsford P. Yandell, whose early benefactor I had been, and whose firm friend I had continued to be, foully and maliciously sland­ ered me for his own pecuniary profit and benefit, while he insidiously still professed, in words, and pretended at times in action, to be my friend-and was therefore ungrateful and perfidious as well as malic­ ious.... He was intriguing for my professorship, with which he was better pleased than with his own. Yet does he not possess a single qualification for teaching either the profound or elevated and dis­ tinguished principles and characteristics of it. For he is, proverbially, common-place and superficial in all his remarks, never giving birth and utterance to an original thought. He is a mere parasite.... In cunning, strategem, and all forms of duplicity and deceptiveness, he is at home, and adept in the practice of them.15

Of course, such a subjective approach made the autobiography virtually worthless to the serious historian. Only a few passages in the book can be taken at face value and these are for the most part descriptions of general conditions in the West. Since there are so many reliable sources the story of Caldwell's stormy career is referred to only as a literary curiosity. Had he possessed a more stable character and had he concentrated his tremendous physical energy on two or three major projects there is a strong possibility t~at he would have produced literary works of more permanent interest. In the case of Kentucky poetry there were many verse makers but only a few made contributions of lasting interest. The per-' iodicals and newspapers contained many doggerels, ditties, sen­ timental verses, and humorous couplets, but only on rare oc­ casions have any of these amateur products survived in the more permanent collections. In the early period some of the best poetry was written by transient Kentuckians, writers who were only temporary residents in the state. A typical example was Thomas H. Chivers, a Georgia-born medical student at Tran­ sylvania University. During his student days in Lexington (1828-1830), Chivers became interested in belle lettres and at least two of his poems, "To a China Tree," and "Georgia Wat­ ers" were written in this period. "Georgia Waters" went LET IERS AND BELLE-LE1TRES 179 through several revisions. Below the first stanza is given in the original form. This is followed by the 185 4 revisions.

On thy waters, thy sweet valley waters, Oh! Georgia! how happy were we! When thy daughters, thy sweet-smiling daughters, Once gathered sweet william for me. Oh! thy wildwood, thy dark shady wildwood Had many bright visions for me; For my childhood, my bright rosy childhood Was cradled, dear Georgia! in thee!

The 185 4 revision:

On thy waters, thy sweet valley-waters, Oh! Georgia! how happy were we! When thy daughters, thy sweet smiling daughters, First gathered sweet-william for me, Then thy wildwood, thy dark, shady wildwood Had many bright visions for me! For my childhood, my bright rosy childhood Was cradled, dear Georgia! in thee­ Bright land of my childhood, in thee!

On thy mountains, thy great purple mountains The seasons were waiting on thee, When thy fountains, thy clear crystal fountains Flowed spotting in gladness for me. Now thy waters, thy sweet valley-waters Rush laughing in song to the Sea; While thy daughters, thy sweet smiling daughters Still gather sweet-william for me-- Dear land of my childhood, for me! Theodore O'Hara is probably the best known Kentucky-born poet of the ante-helium period and yet his fame rests upon a single poem "The Bivouac of the Dead." O'Hara was born in Danville, Kentucky, in 1820. His father, Kane O'Hara, was a political exile from Ireland and made a living teaching school in Danville and in Frankfort. It seems apparent that Theodore received his early education from his father who instilled in the hoy the love of song and poetry so characteristic of the Irish. After learning all he could from his father he entered St. Joseph's Academy at Bardstown where his scholarship and general ability 180 ANTE-BELLUM KENTUCKY were rewarded with a tutorship in Greek. After graduation, O'Hara studied law and then, in 1 845, he accepted a position in the Treasury Department at Washington. During the war with Mexico he served with distinction, first as a captain, later as a major. After the war he followed a varied and exciting career. He practiced law in the nation's capital, he helped the Cubans in their fight for freed om against the tyrant Spain, he edited in succession the Mobile Register, The Louisville Times, and the Frankfort Yeoman. The Civil War brought him into the front ranks of the Confederate army. After the conflict he retired to a 16 plantation in Alabama and died there in 1 867 . O'Hara's political and literary addresses were far more num­ erous than his poetic contributions and yet his name is known in American literary history only as a poet. In fact only two poems can be definitely ascribed to him. One was based on the life of Daniel Boon and was entitled "The Old Pioneer." It has never been popular and is now almost forgotten. The other, the well known "The Bivouac of the Dead," was composed for the dedication of the Mexican War monument in Frankfort, Au­ gust, 1847.

THE BIVOUAC OF THE DEAD The muffled drum's sad roll has beat The Soldier's last tattoo; No more on Life's parade shall meet The brave and daring few. On Fame's eternal camping-ground Their silent tents are spread, And Glory. guards with solemn round The bivouac of the dead. No answer of the foe's advance Now swells upon the wind; No troubled thought at midnight haunts Of loved ones left behind; No vision of the morrow's strife The ,varrior's dream alarms; No braying horn nor screaming fife At dawn shall call to arms. Their shivered swords are red with rust; Their plumed heads are bowed; Their haughty banner, trailed in dust, LETTERS AND BELLE-LETTRES Is now their martial shroud; And plenteous funeral-tears have washed The red stains from each brow, And their proud forms, in battle gashed, Are free from anguish now.

Rest on, embalmed and sainted dead! Dear as the blood you gave, No impious footsteps here shall tread The herbage of your grave; Nor shall your glory be forgot While fame her record keeps, Or honor points the hallowed spot Where valor proudly sleeps.

Yon marble minstrel's voiceless tone In deathless songs shall tell, When many a vanquished age hath flown, The story how ye fell. Nor wreck, nor change, nor winter's blight. Nor time's remorseless doom, Shall dim one ray of holy light That gilds your glorious tomb.

There are eight stanzas in "The Old Pioneer," each one be­ ginning with the verse "A dirge for the brave old pioneer!" The first and last stanza are given here:·

A dirge for the brave old pioneer! Knight-errant of the wood! Calmly beneath the green sod here He rests from field and flood; The war-whoop and the panther's screams No more his soul shall rouse, For well the aged hunter dreams Beside his good old spouse.

A dirge for the brave old pioneer! The patriarch of his tribe! He sleeps-no pompous pile n1arks where, Nor lines his deeds describe. They raised no stone above him here, Nor carved his deathless name­ An empire is his sepulchre, His epitaph is Fame. ANTE-BELLUM KENTUCKY Quite different in style was the poetry of Thomas Johnson, a cynical, sophisticated rhymester of Danville and other Blue­ grass towns. He called himself "drunken Tom" and there seems to be no doubt about his fondness for the bottle. His poetry, which was anything but polite, was collected in a little volume and first published in Lexington in 17 89 under the title Ken­ tucky Miscellany. The book was so popular that it ran through four editions but only a very few copies of the fourth edition ( 1821) are extant. As the poetry i~ really in a class by itself and since the collection is extremely rare, liberal quotations are given below.17

THE AUTHOR'S HATRED TO KENTUCKY IN GENERAL I hate Kentucky, curse the place, And all her vile and miscreant race! Who make religion's sacred tie, A mash through which they cheat and lie; Proteus could not change his shape, Nor Jupiter commit a rape, With half the ease those villains can, Send prayers to God and cheat their man; I hate all Judges here of late, And every lawyer in the state. Each quack that is call' d physician, And all blockheads in commission­ Worse than the Baptist roaring rant, I hate the Presbyterian cant- · Their parsons, elders, nay the whole, And wish them gone with all my soul­ Far worse than these, I yet do hate, All those who pimp or speculate- All rogues and villains, men in trade, ( If a distinction may be made. Glad would I be; 'twas quickly done, For my own part I know of none)­ All tavern keepers, dirty hogs, Vile stupid asses, pimping dogs, Who careful watch behind the bar, In wait to catch the thoughtless there; Plunder their pockets by false scores, Then basely turn them out of doors­ I hate all fops and powdered beaus, All negro lovers and their whores, The primm'd up prude, who out of spite, LETI ERS AND BELLE-LETTRES Will neither kiss nor hold the light, The gay coquette with sparkling eyes, Who's neither chaste nor otherwise; Who never yet to shame was brought, But only sinn'd in wanton thought. Curs'd be the jilt that sins for pelf, And more accursed be myself! Who takes no council, minds no rules, And only lives a jest for fools.18

THE AUTHOR'S OWN EPITAPH Underneath this marble tomb, In endless shades lies drunken Tom; Here safely moor'd, dead as a log Who got his death by drinking grog, By whiskey grog he lost his breath, Who would not die so sweet a death.19

Kentucky's most scholarly poet was George Beck who trans­ lated Anacreon, Horace, and Virgil into smoothly flowing Eng­ lish. But Beck possessed a creative spirit, too, which found ex­ pr~ion in original verse. Two examples of his poetry are printed below. His description of Kentucky is in sharp contrast to Johnson's tirade. 20

ON KENTUCKY Ye grand enchanting wilds, how few yet touched By human hand, of all your bondless stores! Untaught by man, the clustering vines climb up, And, mantling round the monarch oak, spread wide Their green festoons, with flowers embroidered rich. Deep musing here, might Homer sit, and tune His golden harp to Illium fallen; or Pope Such forests sing as Windsor never waved. As swelling breezes o'er the Eolian chords Bring the full tide of rapturous delight, So too, assembled sweets awake the soul To harmony through every tingling nerve; And sensibility to rapture warms. Oh, busy fancy, rest thee here a while, Call down the genius of these reverend woods! To thy blest shades, 0 fair Columbia, come! Or bear me hence, upon thine Eagle wing, To where, if yet with lavish hand thou pour'st More blooming beauties, in some hidden wild ANTE-BELLUM KENTUCKY Than these more fair-fairer than human eye Has e'er beheld, then thy Kentucky yields. Beside Ohio's wide, expanding stream, Perhaps of aged oaks, and maples high, Full charged with liquid sweets, thou twin'st a bower, Full opening pendent o'er the silvery maze! Oh, thither bear me, where the crystal pours O'er Louisville's bright marble bed its streams. Here first in foam it thunders o'er the rocks, And hideous sweeps the trembling vessels down, Which thence some hundred tranquil miles had sailed, And down may gently sail some hundred more, And kiss the Mississippi's golden wave- That wondrous stream, flowing from thousand founts Which burst, unseen, in wilds untrod by man, 'Midst piny mountains yet unknown in song, Though everlasting verdure crowns their heads. Not e'en bright Italy, boast of every muse, Smiles 'neath a fairer sky. Columbia, say What thrilling rapture met the sparkling view Of thine adventurous son, with sight of land! How swell'd his breast! Sweet sympathy yet brings Mine eye, mine ears, the tears and loud huzzas Of late desponding sailors. Almighty power, Who from high heaven in prescient vision beamed O'er unknown seas to this new smiling world, Pour bright o'er me thine all-enlivening ray, That I its worth to dist:inct realms may spread. Thou star-girt Virgin, deign thy kindling glances! Stay on yon amber cloud thy glittering wing, While I thy constellations number o'er! Increasing star by star, unfolding states, Ye beam in prospect on my wondering sight. Your forests open, young plantations shine, New towns rear up their walls; gay Plenty reigns, And Peace in her right hand her ensign waves. Already has this smiling, infant land Great Britain's proud dominion quash'd and sent Her Lion howling o'er the Atlantic waves. So young Alcides; when the serpent dread Hissed round his cradle, and his limbs embraced, The waking boy their hideous volumes crushed; They hissed no more, nor darted forked stings. Thus may this last found world show all the old How godlight Liberty ennobles man, And humble Worth outshines and empty name! LETTERS AND BELLE-LETTRES SONG 0, were my love this fragrant Rose, In all its modest blushes drest, Were I the Dew cool eve besto,vs, To glisten on her downy breast, Then blest! to breath etherial joys Amidst the silky crimson blooms. And with the precious sweets arise, When morn' my seat of bliss illumes! Then, 'mid the limpid realms of light, With Morn's soft blush those sweets I'd blend, And, stealing through the veil of Night, On that dear breast again descend.

Western migration and frontier conditions gave rise to a pe­ culiar type of poetry that was intended to be recited or sung. This "poetry dressed in rags" is generally classified under the heading of balladry. There were poems that celebrated military events, life on the rivers, tragic and happy romances, and moun­ tain life. When dealing with ballads the social historian is always confronted with this question: are ballads fundamentally musical or literary? Certainly in the beginning of the life of a ballad the poetry, or to be less f onnal, the verses were basically important while th~ "music" was incidental, variable, and, generally speak­ ing, existed only in the minds of the people who were acquainted with the ballad. In Kentucky in frontier days ( and in the mountain regions and isolated lowland areas frontier conditions continued far into the nineteenth century) singing was a part of every day life. The plowman, the reapers, the bean shellers, the weavers sang ballads as they worked to help dispel the loneliness. Many of the ballads had been carried over seas from England and Scot­ land, but some were composed by the early Kentucky settlers. An example of each type is presented below. It should be re­ membered that there are many variations of almost every ballad as each singer had the privilege of modifying the tune and the words to suit his own taste and voice. One of the oldest and one of the best known of the Anglo­ Saxon ballads is Barbara Allen. 186 ANTE-BELLUM KENTUCKY ,~ 1 J I J r r- r I r J U- J ~ t.In Scar- let Town, where I was born, There ,~ J r r- r Ir d r I I r J V J If was a fair maid dwell-ing, l\lade ev-'ry youth err, 'I, I J tJ J. J J IJ J J. D IJ J • I "well- a - day;' Her name was Bar- hara Al- len.

The tragic love story runs through nineteen or more stanzas. Typical of the original, or native, ballad is the old work song illustrated on the next page. It is claimed that the ballad was composed by Robert Preston one of the earliest settlers of the Big Sandy region of the Kentucky mountains.21 The Big Sandy Valley has been a storehouse of legends, folk tales, and ballads. The region has a background figured with prehistoric mound builders, with Indian hunters, and large herds of forest animals. Along the trails winding through canebrake, along mountain streams, and over rocky heights Shawnees, Cherokees, and even wandering Delawares had moved often and swiftly to hunting grounds or battle grounds many years before the advent of the white man. To this rich store of Indian legend, the settlers of the Big Sandy added the story of Gabriel Arthur, the Cherokee hostage who in 1674 became the first white man to see the re­ gion. Then came the tale of Dr. Thomas Walker, the Howards, Boone, Jennie Wiley, the Prestons and many "Long Hunters," all natural characters for folk songs and ballads. LETTERS AND BELLE-LETTRES

PUSH BOAT

'

1. Go-ing up the nv - er From Cat-letts-burg to Pike,

Work-ing on a push boat For old man Jeff-ry$ Ike.

By using appropriate sets of words the airs of the popular bal­ lads served a religious purpose at camp meeting or country church. Frontier hymns were created on the spot to meet the immediate necessity of the worshippers. All that was needed to launch an impromptu hymn was a good revival spirit, some first­ class fire and brimstone furnished by the preacher, and a well­ shouted hallelujah from the congregation. Hymns of this type were independent of the printed page and in most cases they floated on wings of song into oblivion. 188 ANTE-BELLUM KENTUCKY The compositions of individual preachers sometimes enjoyed a better fate and lived long enough to be published in hymnals. In Kentucky and Tennessee there were several composers, all Methodists, who deserve to be mentioned. John A. Granade, a circuit rider on the Tennessee-Kentucky border was the or­ iginal compiler and publisher of The Pilgri1n's Songster ( 1804). Thomas S. Hinde edited an enlarged edition of this book and added the hymns of Caleb Jarus Taylor, a well-known revivalist. Taylor's hymns reflected to a marked degree the emotionalism of the camp meeting. For example:

Hark! the victor's singing loud, Emanuel's chariot wheels are rumbling; Mourners weeping through the crowd, And Satan's kingdom down is tumbling.22

William Downs was another Kentuckian who specialized in hymns and poems of a religious if slightly lurid nature. The fol­ lowing lines are typical. Sinners shall howl, damnation roll Throughout this thwarted globe; In blood the moon, sackcloth the sun Shall speak the wrath of God! The results obtained when these words were shouted by a frantic congregation were indeed startling. But in a crude way, these hymns represented the creative spirit of the West and certainly they were appropriate at the frontier camp meeting. There was no sharp line of distinction between literature and journalism in ante-bell um Kentucky. As a matter of fact some of the best poetry appeared in periodicals and newspapers and these mediums of expression were only second in importance to books as disseminators of culture. The first monthly periodical published in the West was The Medley, or Monthly Miscellany, printed by Daniel Bradford in Lexington during the year 1803. The editor, who was either Bradford or Allan B. Magruder, presented the little magazine to the citizens of Kentucky with the foil owing words: To rush at once without ceremonie [sic] into the presence of the public, might by some be thought vanity, and by others impertinence- LETTERS AND BELLE-LETTRES A wish to avoid either imputation, as well as the necessity of conforming to a long established custem, impels the Editor to offer a few prefatory observations. 23 There followed a brief and rather vague preface, addressed to "Candid Reader," which formally introduced the periodical to its readers. The contents of The it1.edley included biographical sketches of prominent American and English statesmen, articles on agri­ culture and commerce, philosophical essays, many reprints from literary and scientific publications, poetry, fashion notes, and warnings about the demon rum. "Frolic at night," read the sub­ scribers to The Medley, "is followed with pain and sickness in the morning; and then what was before the poison is adminis­ tered as the cure; so that a whole life is often wasted in this expensive phrensy."24 Men and women who were slaves to fashion were severely criticized by the moralist who wrote for The Medley. For a man to be a fancy dresser was a sure way to open the door of extravagance which in turn led to ruin. Those "who would daz­ zle the ladies" with their fancy clothes were characterized as undesirable citizens. Novels were also branded as evil, especially for "untutored maids." A few of the essays were well written and instructive. The poetry ( one contribution was called "Ode Written During a Severe fit of the tooth ache") can be dismissed without further consideration. The final number of The 1vledley was printed in December, 1803, and sixteen years passed before Kentucky produced an­ other magazine of importance. In August, 1819, William Gibbs Hunt ( 1791-183 3) brought forth in Lexington the first issue of The Western Review and Miscellaneous Magazine. For two years this monthly was the medium through which Lexington's scientists, educators, and literati expressed themselves. The editor of The Western Review was born in Boston and after being educated at Harvard he migrated to Kentucky in 181 5. In August of that year he became editor of The Western Monitor, a Federalist newspaper published in Lexington. In 181 8 he bought out the original owner and became sole publisher and editor and in the following year ( 18 19) he changed the ANTE-BELLUM KENTUCKY name of the sheet to Western Monitor and Lexington Adver­ tiser. However, as a newspaper publisher, Hunt achieved only mediocre success and his subsequent reputation as a journalist was based on his magazine, The Western Revit1w. The Western Review was published as a monthly from Au­ gust, 1819, to July, 1821. Each number contained sixty-four pages. Considering the time and the place it was well printed although the reader was asked to provide his own accents for a poem in French printed in the last number of the first volume. The material in this journal, while pseudo-classic and somewhat artificial, compared favorably with the contents of other Amer­ ican magazines of the day.2{) It contained reprints of Byron's poems, reviews of Scott's novels and Irving's Sketch Book, es­ says and comments on such diversified subjects as Madame de Stael, the value of music, and the scenery at Harper's Ferry. The history of the West was given considerable space and there were numerous contributions devoted to natural history, female education, the classics, medicine, and travel. From the scientific point of view the most valuable contribution to the Re'view was Rafinesque's "Natural History of the Fishes of the Ohio River and Its Tributary Streams."26 In 1820, Hunt republished this essay in book form under the title lchthyologia Ohiensis. Rafinesque was not the only naturalist represented in Hunt's magazine. For example, John D. Clifford of Lexington, Rafin­ esque's friend, supplied a series of articles on archeology, and other writers furnished essays on botany and paleontology. Since Hunt was a champion of classical learning, he never neglected an opportunity to write an editorial on the values to be obtained from a thorough study of Greek and Latin. "We cannot ... believe," he wrote in 1820, "that classical learning is destined to fall into general disrepute. We trust there will al­ ways be found zeal and talent enough to oppose the innovating spirit of those who would exclude the study of the ancient lan­ guages from our system of education, and we shall be ever ready to lend our feeble aid to the efforts of those who appear as the champions of the venerable classics. "27 He believed a study of Cicero, Demosthenes, Homer and Virgil essential for the forma­ tion of a scholar and should this classic literature ever be abol- LETIERS AND BELLE-LETTRES ished by the universities such action would indicate that man­ 8 kind was "fast sinking into absolute barbarism. "2- While conservative with respect to the classics, Hunt was liberal in other respects. He was very broadminded on the sub­ ject of female education and worked to promote the standards of girls' schools and academies. Woman, he asserted, was created to be the companion of man and should not be regarded as an inferior being. Perhaps women were not suited for the bar, the pulpit, or the lecture room, but they possessed the right to ob­ tain a liberal education so that they could qualify as intelligent mothers, accomplished ladies, and agreeable companions. 29 He used the columns of the Review to bring these ideas before the public. Hunt accepted for publication in his magazine foems in Italian, Latin, French, and, of course, English. Some o the con­ tributions had been clipped from other publications, but most of the poetry was contributed by Horace Holley, President of Transylvania University, Rafinesque, George Beck and several other writers living in Kentucky. Hunt was interested especially in the poetical work of George Beck who has been quoted on a preceding page. The Western Review maintained a standard of excellence during its brief existence that was never reached by any other Kentucky magazine in the ante-helium period. The numerous publications that appeared were amateurish and only one or two are of sufficient interest to mention here. The Kentucky Gar­ land ( 1853-r 8 55) was edited by Harriet C. Lindsey and was published at first in Covington and later transferred to Louis­ ville. It was a monthly magazine of sixty-four pages and con­ tained articles on various subjects including politics, Indian af­ fairs, fashions, and women's rights. Serial novels of a romantic nature were a feature attraction. One novel was called "Carlton House, or Sunshine and Shadow." It was a fast-moving story with good continuity and with a plot based on love and intrigue, but the characters seem stilted and the swoonings of innocent cousins becomes a little monotonous to the modem reader. 30 A unique publication was The Orphan's Casket. This little eight-page magazine w:is started in Louisville in r 845 and ap­ peared again in r 848. It was published for the benefit of Louis- ANTE-BELLUM KENTUCKY ville orphans and was issued every day during the week of the orphan's bazaar. The subscription price was one dollar and cir­ culation was probably limited to Jefferson County. The reading matter in The Orphan's Casket consisted of poe­ try, stories, allegories, and translations from French authors. Typical of the prose contributions was "Sophie's First Visit to the Theatre" which must have been rather dull for Sophie. Some of the verse was more interesting, especially a poem entitled "Lines found in a Cell of a Lunatic Asylum."31 It was a characteristic of the period for every small town to have a newspaper. In Kentucky there were many minor news­ papers published in small towns and rural settlements. One of these obscure papers was the Candid Review, a weekly estab­ lished in Bardstown in February, 1807. It was published every Tuesday by P. Isler at two dollars a year in advance. Advertise­ ments "not exceeding a square" were inserted three times for one dollar. In addition to news items, the paper contained poetry, anecdotes, and special articles of a biblical nature.32 The Lamp, established in 1807, was a country newspaper of unusual interest. It was published by S. Ogilsby and Company at the Lincoln County home of Dr. Anthony Hunn, who acted as editor. The political principles of The La1np were "fully re­ publican, that is, democratic. " 33 The paper gave evidence of be­ ing intelligently edited and took a definite stand against ineffi­ cient and corrupt government. One attack on selfish politicians was thinly disguised as a fable:

REDRESS OF GRIEVANCES-A FABLE In the empire of the woods a great council was convened to correct abuses in government and redress grievances. A Wolf was chosen speaker of the House. An Old Ram handed in a petition: "Whereas the woods are infested with thieves and robbers to such a degree that no poor, in­ nocent lamb can take a mouthful of grass without trembling for his eye, and no honest climber can pick a single grain without fear of a hawk; we humbly pray, that this August assembly may enquire into the matter, in order to give ready relief to a suffering community, and your peti­ tioners will ever pray." The petition was laid on the table for consider­ ation, and after a spirited debate a committee of three experienced wolves was appointed by the speaker-wolf, to inquire into the matter and report accordingly. The first night the committee met and killed three sheep and one ram. The second night they found a panther who LETTERS AND BELLE-LETTRES 1 93 just had killed a deer. The committee shared amicably in the barbecue. The third night a flock of geese was happily surprised by the wolves, and "'·hat they could not eat they buried in the sand. The fourth day the committee reported to the assembly that the Old Ram \Vas a rascal and a liar; that peace and plenty was every where found as the happy result of good laws and a faithful administration of justice.34

In 1 807, Editor Hunn announced that he was considering the publication of a German paper for the German settlers of the West. It was to bear the nan1e Licht in Ahendlande and was to instruct the readers in the eternal rules of political justice and "lay before them the contrast between European slavery and American liberty."35 Hunn believed that his proposed German news sheet would be liberally supported, but there is no evi­ dence at hand to prove that the paper was ever published. In 1826, the Central Watchtower and Far1ner's Journal made its appearance in Harrodsburg. Its first editor was \Villiam Tanner who continued in the editorial chair until 1828. In that year the name of the paper was changed to Central Watcbto·wer and Literary Scrap-Book and U. P. Randall became editor. In l\,1arch, 18 2 9, Tanner returned as editor and in the same year the paper resumed its original title. The make-up of the paper was at­ tractive for the times. The contents were varied: political items, editorials, biographical · sketches, poetry, and literary articles. Certain issues carried special columns. One was entitled "Glean­ ings from History" and contained paragraphs on Frankish law, Greek philosophy, Roman housewives, and classic drama. From time to time the Central Watchtower clipped items from the Saturday Evening Post and other popular publications. 36 The North American Literary and Political Register was an­ other short lived and almost forgotten Kentucky newspaper. It was established in Lexington in 1826 by J. G. Norwood and W. C. Jones. In addition to news items, clipped and original, this publication printed biographical sketches of famous men, extracts from novels, and many poems of doubtful construction and vague meaning. One poetic contribution was called "Ir­ regular Ode On the Death of Lord Byron" and began with the startling phrase "We mourn thy wreck. " 37 The editors of this paper were literary minded and they wel­ comed short stories of from eight hundred to one thousand 194 ANTE-BELLUM KENTUCKY words. Typical of the fiction submitted was the short story "The Coquette." The hero, Bob Lamberton, relates the story. He re­ solved "to pass one summer at the town of -----, which was at that time a fashionable resort. I was accompanied thither by Dick Dashiell, a young foppish acquaintance of mine, who, like myself, cared only to see fine girls and fall in love with them. I must freely confess, that this has always been my chief motive for visiting the summer haunts of fashion, and I much doubt whether it is not so with many others." As the story ( and the summer), progressed, the two young men became rivals for the fair hand of Pauline Laforest, a captivating orphan girl. A duel threatened but was avoided at the last moment. Misunderstand­ ings followed but after tears came passionate embraces and our hero "instead of riding home with a rival" took with him "a beautiful, a charming, and an excellent wife."38 The history of The Spirit of Washington and Lexington Literary Journal is obscure. Julius Clark was the editor and the paper was probably established in Lexington in r 8 3 2. Its contents ranged from Indian and immigration news to poems such as "The Widow's Wooer."39 Even more obscure is the career of a Harrodsburg paper known as The Ploughboy. Presumably it was established in r 846. The Dollar Farmer and The Franklin Farmer were representa­ tive of the agricultural press. The latter was edited by Thomas B. Stevenson and published in Frankfort. In the thirties and forties this paper encouraged agricultural societies, fairs, and stock shows. It attempted to popularize "new brands of hus­ bandry" and the more simple scientific theories. It printed valu­ able information on crop rotation, stock breeding, and new in­ ventions. It warned farmers against over production and popular fads such as raising silk worms. The editorial policy of The Franklin Farmer was critical and constructive. Stevenson criticised book dealers in Kentucky for their failure to provide cheap reprints of the best English, Ger­ man, and American books on agriculture. The editor declared that he was able to find volumes of trash with clap-trap titles such as "Complete Farmer, Every Man His Own Horse Doc­ tor, and all that sort of stuff," but very few dependable works for the serious farmer.40 The Franklin Farmer admired Sir LETTERS AND BELLE-LETTRES 195 Humphrey Davy's contributions to agricultural literature and recommended a cheap edition of Davy's most popular publica­ tion, Elements of Agricultural Chemistry. The Dollar Farmer, a mo_nthly paper published in Louisville in the forties, was inter­ ested especially in Justus Liebig "Who has been to organic chem­ istry what Newton was to mathematics and astronomy." The farmers themselves probably preferred Edmund Ruffin's Farm­ er's Register to any foreign publication. This paper, of course, was published in Virginia, but it had an extensive circulation in the South and West. There were several major newspapers in Kentucky before 1860 including The Maysville Eagle, The Western Citizen, The Commonwealth, The Courier, The Kentucky Statesman, and The Le:rington Observer and Reporter. All these papers made valuable local contributions, but from the historical point of view the most important papers were the Kentucky Gazette and the Louisville Journal, established by John Bradford and George D. Prentice respectively. Affairs of state were responsible for changing John Bradford from a frontier surveyor into the West's first journalist. During the seventeen-eighties patriotic Kentuckians were meeting in special assemblies at Danville to discuss the propriety of separat­ ing from the Old Dominion. This was a vital problem and con­ cerned the entire populace of the region. It was essential, there­ fore, that all residents be informed of the proceedings of the conventions and it was equally important that the people be given a chance to express their views openly. Bradford, with his Kentucky Gazette, provided the instrument that quickened the formation of public opinion and this, in turn, hastened the pro­ cess of state making. The Kentucky Gazette was born in a log cabin on what is now the comer of Broadway and Main streets in Lexington. 41 The birthdate of the paper was August 11, 1787. The first issue, which had the distinction of being the first newspaper in Kentucky, was printed in old style type on a single sheet of two pages, about ten by nineteen inches. The paper was rough and probably of Kentucky manufacture. The contents consisted of two short, original articles, an advertisement, and a note by the editor. The note was an apology and ran as follows: ANTE-BELLUM KENTUCKY My customers will excuse this my first publication, as I am much hurried to get an impression by the time appointed. A great part of the type fell into pi in the carriage of them from Limestone [Maysville] to this office, and my partner,42 which is the only assistant I have, through an indisposition of the body, has been incapable of rendering the smallest assistance for ten days past. .

The second edition of the Gazette was printed on paper only seven by eight and one half inches. However, in spite of its small size the paper contained seven articles on various subjects and in a special announcement Bradford outlined a five point editorial policy that included a promise of complete coverage of local, state, national, and world events. 43 In addition, he expressed the hope that the Gazette would afford the people of Kentucky an easy method of understanding one another in order that all might work for the public good. 44 The Kentucky Gazette was remarkably successful and in the long roll call of Kentucky journalists no man deserves more praise than John Bradford. He established on the frontier an in­ strument of education and of democratic culture. He had vision, enterprise, and faith in the future of the new land. Bradford was the Boone of western journalism. George D. Prentice, who was to put Louisville on the journal­ istic map, resembled Bradford only in his love of printer's ink. Prentice was more of a politician than Bradford. He was a party man (Whig) and he developed very definite, partisan opinions­ opinions that exploded sometimes in editorials. He was clever and witty, characteristics that helped him to achieve success as a writer and public speaker. The same traits made it easier for him to handle dangerous rivals such as Shadrach Penn, editor of the Louisville Public Advertiser, whom he forced to leave town in r 84 r. Then, too, unlike Bradford, Prentice had had editorial experience before he started his career as a journalist in Ken­ tucky. 45 Prentice's newspaper, the Louisville Journal, first appeared in November, 1830 and within a few years it was one of the best­ known papers in the United States. The editor was especially adept at shon witty paragraphs but his articles and his editorials ( varied in theme but mostly political) compared favorably with the contributions published in the better literary periodicals o_f LETTERS .A.ND BELLE-LETTRES 197 the day. He was a man of firm convictions and he expressed his thoughts with force and clarity although not always with pru­ dence. The original editorial policy of the Journal was expressed in the following statement which appeared in all the early is­ sues of the paper:

We do not deem it necessary to say much with regard to the principles upon which the / ournal will be conducted; for we believe that our views of the more interesting topics of the day, far from being peculiar, are those of a great n1ajority of our fellow citizens. We are in favor of the speedy extinguishment of the public debt. We wish the last farthing to be paid, as soon as it can be done consist­ ently with other imponant interests; but we have no respect for that policy, which, under pretence of hastening the payment of a few weeks, or a few months, would impose a permanent check on the prosperity of the country. . We shall support the constitutionof the United States, according to what we believe to be its true spirit. We do not believe the framers of that instrument ever designed to bind the country hand and foot, and prevent it from consulting its own best interests. . . . We are members of the old school of democracy; we believe in the power of all men, whether wise or ignorant, to govern themselves. And we look confidently forward to the time when they will exercise that power, unawed by the edicts of despots, or the rules of demagogues.46

The ideals and the sentiments expressed in this editorial estab­ lished Prentice as one of the most fearless and righteous editors in American journalism. It was unfortunate that as the years passed he did not always live up to his published idealism. A number of trusting citizens were to discover that their news­ paper idol had feet of clay. The historian, Richard Collins, de­ scribed Prentice as a man who wrote exhaustively with complete comprehension. But the records show that he could be intolerant and narrow-minded and these characteristics grew more pro­ nounced as he grew older. In the early fifties, after the break­ up of the Whig party, he became almost fanatical in his support of the anti-Catholic Know Nothing Party. His role in the bloody election of r 8 55 ( when a number of Louisville citizens lost their lives) caused him to fall from public grace., at least for the time being. It was typical of the man that within a few years he had ANTE-BELLUM KENTUCKY made the public forget this unfortunate event and became al­ most as popular as before. In 1859 he made a successful lecture tour of the Middle West and the majority of the people apparently accepted him as a great journalist, a powerful orator, and a public servant. His favorite lecture was entitled "The American Statesman." It gave him an opportunity to use all his gifts-sarcasm, wit, and an astonishing flow of spell-binding words and phrases. The result was a speech that was sparkling, pungent, and at certain points, withering in denunciation. Audiences loved it. An eye witne~ at the Prentice lecture in Battle Creek, Mich­ igan, in 18 59, left the following interesting picture of the man and the occasion.

We watched him walking down this avenue of citizens, that swayed this way and that, to let him pass along, and now and then like an open­ ing wave, would surge up before him, stopping his progress, and causing him to use force and energy to elbow his way through. He was pre­ ceded by the president of the meeting, whom he followed with his hat in his hand. We noticed his step-it was circumspect-his walk showed caution and wariness. We could see as he threaded his way through the crowd, the keen penetration and perception as he met obstacles and unyielding impediments, the wary dodges and subtility of the man. 47

Prentice's reputation as a man of letters did not rest entirely on his oratorical and journalistic accomplishments. In his own day, at least, he was considered an able poet, and he could handle a romantic theme with considerable grace and ease. The follow­ ing lines which he called "A Memory" seem to reflect a peace­ ful, wistful personality and yet this same man could create edi­ torial phrases that would lash a crowd into a frenzied mob. I know a fair young girl, With a spirit wild and free As the birds that flit o'er the dimpling wave, Then away to the wildwood flee; And she seems like a wreath of mist, As she moves through the summer bowers, With a step too floatingly soft to break The sleep of the dreaming flowers. Her eye is bright and clear As the depths of a shaded spring, LETTERS AND BELLE-LETTRES And beauty's name on her brow is set­ On her cheek its signet-ring; And her voice is like the sound Of a wave through the twilight leaves, Or a Peri's tones from a moonlight cloud In the hush of the summer eves.

Along her temples pale, The blue veins seem to flow, In their winding course, half seen, half hid, Like streams in a .field of snow; And her shinning tres~es there Their beautiful light unfold, Like a painted cloud where the sunset lifts Its shadowy wings of gold.

To me each thought of her Is a gleam of light and love, A gentle dream sent down to eanh From the holy depths above; 'Tis a blessed sunbeam cast On affliction's cloud of tears, A star o'er the waste of a weary heart, A bow on the sky of years.

Secession and Civil War seared the mind and scarred the soul of George Prentice. At the beginning of the sectional conflict he was a staunch unionist and he used all the power in his vocabu­ lary to denounce the South. He was particularly bitter against those Kentuckians who joined the Confederate forces and he singled out General Simon Bolivar Buckner as the arch rebel of them all. But gradually he lost his zeal. The fire went out of his heart and his pen grew cold with neglected ink. He was deeply hurt when his two sons joined the Confederate army. He was grieved when one of his boys made the supreme sacrifice for the cause of the Stars and Bars. War, grief, and the creeping tentacles of old age destroyed his vigor forever. The former unyielding journalist changed into "a tall, gaunt figure wrapped in a faded calico dressing-gown."48

NOTES

NOTES CHAPTER I 1 John B. Rodes, "Early History of Bowling Green" (typed MS in the Kentucky Collection, Western Kentucky State Teachers' College). 2 N. W. McLain, The Forgotten Region (Chicago, 1897), 2-4; Bulletin of the American Geographical Society, vol. 42 ( 1910 ), 580 ff; Thomas D. Clark, The Kentucky (New York, 1942), 10, 122-124. 3 Perry County Court, Order Book A, p. 12, December, 1820; also June 22, 1820 (in Perry County Court House, Hazard, Kentucky). 4 J. Green Trimble, Recollections of Breathitt (a pamphlet, Jackson, Ky., n.d.), 5; Sam N. Hunt, The Mountains Redeemed (Appalachia, 1929), passim; Clark, The Kentucky, 195-205. 5 W. A. Bacon, Diary (MS in possession of Mr. L. V. Hagan, Auster­ litz, Ky.); Franklin County Will Book no. I, February 18, 1811, p. 68; Rodes, "Early History of Bowling Green," 7; Thomas W. Bullitt (ed), My Life at Oxmoor (Louisville, 1911 ), 37-38. 6 In 1852 The Kentucky Cultivator changed its name to Kentucky Cultivator and Railroad Journal. 7 Cases in Bankruptcy, (MS records, Federal Building, Frankfort). In one year ( 1842-1843) there were 185 4 bankrupts in Kentucky. A large per cent were farmers. 8 By 1850 stoves were available in the city stores but they were still considered a luxury for the average farmer. 9 Case of Henry Eden in Cases in Bankruptcy, 1842-1843. 1°Clark County Records, Appraisals, Inventories, and Wills, 1850-1858 (in Clark County Court House, Winchester, Kentucky). Some of the better known silversmiths were Samuel Ayres, David Sayre, and Asa Blanchard of Lexington; John G. Schwing, Evans C. Beard, James I. Lemon, W. & A. Cooper, W erne & Spiegelhalder of Louisville. At least 18 Kentucky counties had one or more silversmiths before 186o. See in particular, Margaret M. Birdwell, "Kentucky Silversmiths Before 1850" in Filson Club History Quarter/ y, ( Louisville, 192 6- ) , XVI ( 1942 ) , I II-126. 11 William H. Nelson's account sheets and bills of sale ( MS in private hands Winchester, Kentucky). 12 Franklin Farmer, January 26, 1839; Report of the Kentucky State Agricultural Society, 1856-1857 (Frankfort, 1857), 124-125; Kentucky: Its Resources and Present Condition (Frankfort, 1878), 208-209. 13 Ibid., 209-210; Franklin Farmer, September 15, 1838. 14 Report of the Kentucky State Agricultural Society, 1856-1857, pp. 56-59. ANTE-BELLUM KENTUCKY

15 Ibid., 131, 148. \ 6 Ibid., 323. A classic literary description of Kentucky fairs and county court days in Kentucky will be found in James Lane Allen, The Blue­ grass Region of Kentucky (New York, 1892 ). 17 Mrs. Mary Woodson, "My Recollections of Frankfort" (MS in Kentucky State Historical Society Library, Frankfort), cited hereafter as Woodson MS; Mary E. Bean to W. A. Bacon, Clark County, January 10, 1850 (MS letter in the Bacon Collection). 18 W. A. Bacon to Belle Talbott, Paris, Kentucky, January 14, 1852 (MS letter in the Bacon Collection). 19 Bulletin of the Kentucky Folk-Lore Society, 1925, pp. 11-18. 20 Bullitt ( ed.), My Life at Oxmoor, 34-35. 21 Bacon Diary, July 31, 1843; Western Citizen, December 11, 1824. 22 Ibid., June 12, 1818; Christian Schultz, Travels on an Inland Voyage, 2 vols. (New York, 1810), I: 176. 23 Western Citizen, August 2, 1833. 24 American Turf Register and Sporting Magazine (Baltimore and New York, 1830-1842), XII (1841), 248. 25 Roger D. Williams, Horse and Hound (Lexington, 1905), 144. 26 See any issue of The American Turf Register and Sporting Maga­ zine; Thomas D. Clark, The Rampaging Frontier (New York, 1939), 228. 27 John Gilmer Speed, The Horse in A111erica (New York, 1905), 59-60. 28 Bacon Diary, n.d., p. 25. 29 The Wesern Citizen, June 23, 1818. For an excellent discussion of life at the springs in the nineteenth century see J. Winston Coleman, Jr., "Old Kentucky \Vatering Places," in The Filson Club History Quarterly, XVI ( 1942 ), 1-26. 30 Letter to Robert Peter from the managers of Olympian and Graham Springs (MS in the Robert Peter Collection, Transylvania College); Daniel Drake, "Notices of the Principal Mineral Springs of Kentucky and Ohio," in Western Journal of the Medical and Physical Sciences (Cincinnati, 1827-1836), II ( 1829 ), 375-401. 31 John Palmer, Journal of Travels in the United States of North America (London, 1818), 99. 32 Harriet Manineau, Society in America, 3 vols. (London, 1837), l:201-205. 33 J. Winston Coleman, Slavery Times in Kentucky (Chapel Hill, 1940) 75. 34 Woodson MS. 35 Jdem. CHAPTER II 1 Newspapers, periodicals, and other literary productions are discussed in chapter Io. 2 Emmiline Stuart Wortley, Travels in the United States During 1849- 1850 (New York, 1851), 88-94, 105. NOTES 205

3 Lexington City Council Records (in municipal Building, Lexington), April 24, 1832; Winchester Trustee Book (in Clark County Court House, Winchester), June 15, 1832. 4 Louisville Police Court Records, ( in Police Court Office, Louisville), April 2, 1836 and subsequent entries; see also Fayette County Court order books for the same period. 5 W. A. Bacon, A Journal from Paris to Cincinnati with a Drove of Cattle, February 27, 1843 (l\,IS in the Bacon Collection). 6 Lexington City Council Records, January 7, 1830; July 4, 1833; Sep­ tember 10, 1835. 7 Fayette County Court, Order Book 12, p. 16, (May, 1847 ); Harrison D. Taylor, Ohio County, Kentucky (Louisville, 1926), 20. s Lexington City Council Records ( in Municipal Building, Lexington), Tri-Weekly Maysville Eagle, February 15, 24, 1855. 9 Jebidiah Morse, The American Universal Geography (Boston, 1805 ), 654. 10 In 1855, a former Lexingtonian, writing from Iowa asserted that Lexington had the cleverest people in the world but that the town had seen its best days. J. R. Allen to Robert Peter, Keokuk, Iowa, June 9, 185 5 ( MS in the Peter Collection). 11 The Tri-Weekly Commonwealth, April 16, 1856. 12 Ben Cassidy, The History of Louisville (Louisville, 1852 ), 165 ff. 13 Frankfort Argus, May 16, 1825. 14 Lexington Reporter, May 23, 1825. 15 John S. Wilson to Joel T. Hart, Lexington, Kentucky, November 2 5, 1849 ( MS letter in the Hart Papers, Durrett Collection, University of Chicago Library.). 16 Winchester Trustees Book, December 7, 1849. 17 Tri-Weekly Maysville Eagle, January 4, 1855. 18 Woodson MS, 16ff. 19 An Ordinance for the Government of Lexington, 1858, p. 29 (MS in the Municipal Building). 20 Rough and Ready, January 1, 1848. (There are a few issues of this newspaper in the Durrett Collection). 21 Fayette County Court Order Book 13, p. 326 (July, 1852). 22 Bacon Diary, September 21, 184 3. 23 Woodson MS, p. 7; Paducah Weekly American, November 14, 1854. Generally a plugmuss was a bloody .fight between two men armed with knives and pistols. 24 Western Citizen, February 19, 1825. 25 Palmer, Journal of Travels in the United States, 76-78. 26 Sol Smith, Theatrical Management in the West and South (New York, 1868), 47. 27 Bishop Jackson Kemper, Diary, December 1-2, 1835 (MS in the Li­ brary of the Wisconsin State Historical Society. Extracts, New York Public Library). 206 ANTE-BELLUM KENTUCKY

!!8 N. M. Ludlow, Dramatic Life as I Found It (St. Louis, 1875 ), 86.tf; George W. Upton, Anthony Philip Heinrich (New York, 1939), 32-35. 29 Ludlow, Dra111atic Life As I Found It, 88. 30 Kentucky Gazette, November 8, 1817. 31 Western Review and Miscellaneous Magazine (Lexington, 1819- 1821 ), IV (1821), 314-318. · 32 Records of Copyrights, District of Kentucky, 1853-1855 (in Federal Building, Frankfort, Kentucky). 33 Upton, Anthony Philip Heinrich, ix, 29; Kentucky Gazette, No­ vember 8, 1817. 34 Published in Philadelphia. There is a copy in the Music Division of the Library of Congress. 35 A. Schue to Robert Peter, Shelbyville, Kentucky, May 14, 1853 ( MS letter in the Peter Collection). 36 Louisville Weekly Courier, April 12, 1851. 31 Louisville Daily Journal, March 16, 1831; Ludlow, Dramatic Life As I Found It, 393. CHAPTER III 1 Charles William Dabney, Universal Education in the South, 2 vols. (Chapel Hill, 1936), I: 3-4. 2 Thomas D. Clark, A History of Kentucky (New York, 1937), 323. 3 William H. Whitsitt, Life and Times of Judge Caleb Wallace, (Louisville, 1888), 99-102; 122-130; Alvin Fayette Lewis, History of Higher Education in Kentucky (Washington, 1899), 35-36. 4 Records of the Board of Trustees, Transylvania University, Novem­ ber 3, 1798; Kentucky Gazette, January 18, 1828; Kentucky Senate Journal, 1825-1826, p. 153. 5 Kentucky Gazette, April 25, 1799. 6 Transylvania MS 1802-U-29. 7 "Trial of James Welsh" (MS in Transylvania College Library). 8 Kentucky Gazette, March 26, 1802. 9 James Blythe, Our Sins Acknowledged (Lexington, 1816), passim; Kentucky. Reporter, December 18, 1816, January 22, 1817 and subsequent issues. 1°Charles Caldwell, A Discourse on the Genius and Character of the Rev. Horace Holley (Boston, 1828), Appendix, 122 ff. 11 Niels Henry Sonne, Liberal Kentucky (New York, 1939 ), 168. 12 I bid., I 52ff. 13 Horace Holley to the Trustees of Transylvania University, Lexing- ton, June 25, 1818 (MS in Transylvania College Library). 14 Kentucky Senate Journal, 1825-1826, p. 142. 15 Kentucky House Journal, 1824-1825, pp. 212-213. 16 Jbid. 215; Transylvania MS 1825-u-107. 11 Kentucky House Journal, 1824-1825, p. 213. 18 I bid., 239-242. NOTES 207 19 Elizabeth Norton, "Sketch of the Transylvania Library," in Tran­ sylvania College Bulletin, November, 1919, p. 45; Transylvania MS, 1823-U-44; E. D. Mansfield, Memoires of the Life and Services of Daniel Drake ( Cincinnati, 185 5), 128. 2°Kentucky House Journal, 1824-1825, p. 208; Transylvania Journal of Medical and the Associate Sciences (Lexington, 1828-1838), I ( 1828), 301-302. 21 Kentucky House Journal, 1824-1825, p. 300. 22 E. Durand to Robert Peter, Philadelphia, February 25, 1837 (MS letter in the Peter Collection, Transylvania Library). z3 Senate Miscellaneous Docunzents, 1849-1850, 2 vols. (Washington, 1850), II: 166ff. u Kentucky House Journal, 1824-1825, p. 215. 25 Marcus A. Chinn, "Surgery," in Inaugural Dissertations of Tran­ sylvania University, 1846 (MSS in Transylvania College Library), 1, 15. ~6 Transylvania Journal of Medicine and the Associate Sciences, X ( 1837 ), 4· 21 Kentucky Gazette, December 4, 1818; Kentucky Reporter, De- cember 9, 1818. 28 Western Citizen, March 6, 20, 1824; Kentucky Reporter, February 23, 1824. 29 Argus of Western America, December 6, 1826; C. E. Graham to Robert Peter, Louisville, February 2, 1876 (MS in the Peter Collection). 30 Transylvania Journal of Medicine and the Associate Sciences, X ( 183 7)' 164-165. 31 The Family Magazine (Cincinnati, 1836-1841), IV (1840), 149. 32 New Orleans Medical Journal (New Orleans, 1844- ), I ( 1844-1845 ), 124. 33 Lexington City Council Records, 1840-1843, p. 235. 34 After Bascom's resignation in 1849, the city council requested a monthly report from the f acuity. Lexington City Council Records, 1851-1854, p. 30. 35 M. M. Henkle, The Life of Henry Bideleman Basco111 (Nashville, 1854), 279. 36 Bascom's Diary, February 2, April 17, 1846 (MS in Transylvania Library). Henkle, The Life of Henry Bideleman Bascom, 291. 37 Bascom's Diary, January 27, 1846 and subsequent entries. 38 Minutes of Transylvania University, June 15, 1846. 39 Jbid., May 20, 1850; Lexington City Council Records, 1851-1854, pp. 97-98. 40 J. R. Allen to Robert Peter, Keokuk, July 28, 1855 (MS in the Peter Collection.) See also, A. Schue to Robert Peter, Shelbyville, March 15, 1855, in ibid. 41 Kentucky Acts, 1818-1819, pp. 618-6~1: .. 42 Jbid., 1824- 1825, pp. 63-64. See also William Warren Sweet, Religion 208 ANTE-BELLUM KENTUCKY

on the American Frontier, II, The Presbyterians (New York, 1936), 74-75. 43 Barksdale Hamlett, History of Education in Kentucky (Frankfort, 1914), 295· 44 The Conzmentator, July 26, 1828; Centre College Catalogue, 1890, P· 6. 45 The Conzmonwealth, February 10, 1836. 46 Lewis, History of Higher Education in Kentucky, 116. 47 R. T. Irvine, Historical Address Before the Alumni of Centre Col­ lege, June 10, 1923 (Danville, 1923), 26-29. 48 Ralph Fred Peters, "Growth and Development of Standard A Grade Four Year Colleges and Universities in Kentucky," (thesis, Uni­ versity of Kentucky Library.), 117-127; Catalogue of Centre College, 1852, passim; T. G. Gronnert, "History of Centre College from 1830 to 1837" (Typed MS, Centre College Library). 49 William Cathcart (ed.), The Baptist Enclyclopaedia (Philadelphia, 1883), 440; Lewis, History of Higher Education in Kentucky, 143; Ken­ tucky Acts, 1829, p. 19. 50 Leland Winfield Meyer, The Life and Times of Col. Richard M. Johnson of Kentucky (New York, 1932 ), 388-392; B. P. Gaines, History of Scott County, 2 vols. (n.p., 1905 ), II: 285-287; Christian Review (Bos­ ton, 1836-1863), II (1837), 158. 51 Leland Winfield Meyer, Georgetown College (Louisville, 1929), 30-41. 52 I bid., I 9. 53 lbid., 61-74. 54 Lewis, History of Higher Education in Kentucky, 147. 55 Catalogue of Georgetown College, 1859-1860, pp. 17-20; Senate Miscellaneous Documents, 1849-1850, II: 166 ff. 56 Catalogue of Georgetown College, 1859-1860, p. 17, 19; The Com­ mentator, December 21, 1936. 57 Catalogue of Georgetown College, 1859-1860, p. 20; The Commen­ tator, September 26, 1835. 58 Shelby College, June 25, 1853 (A circular in the Robert Peter Col­ lection). 59 A Catalogue of the Officers and Students of Bacon College, 1837- 1838; See also the S. Hatch MSS in Transylvania College Library. 6°Cincinnati Daily Commercial, January 2, 1860. 61 Quoted in Kentucky Statesman, November 29, 1859. 62 The Louisville Courier, November 17, 1859; see also Kentucky Statesman, November 18, 1859; Cincinnati Daily Commerical, December 27, 1859. 63 Kentucky StateS1nan, December 27, 1859. 64 Louisville City Council Minutes, No. 7, p. 347. (MSS in City Hall). 65 J. Stoddard Johnston, Memorial History of Louisville, 2 vols. (Chi- cago, 1869), l:235; Kentucky Writers' Project, A Centennial History NOTES

of the University of Louisville (Louisville, 1939 ), 14. 66 Discussed in chapter V. 67 Kentucky Acts, 1832-1833, p. 300. 68 L. P. Yandell, A Narrative of the Dissolution of the Medical Facu­ ity of Transylvania University (Nashville, 1837 ), passim; Emmet Field Horine, "A History of the Louisville Medical Institute," in Filson Club History Quarterly, VII (1933), 133-147; Lexington Intelligencer, April 14, 1837. 69 Louisville City Council Minutes, March 6, April 3, 1837; L. P. Yan­ dell to C. W. Short, Louisville, February 24, 1838 (MS letter in the Filson Club). 1o Shryock and his work is discussed in chapter IX. 71 L. P. Yandell, History of the Medical Department of the University of Louisville (Louisville, 1852), 31-32. 72 Senate Miscellaneous Documents, 1849-1850, II: 167 ff. 73 Yandell, History of the Medical Department of the University of Louisville, 28-29. 74 The Commonwealth, September 13, 1842. 75 See chapters V and VI. for a discussion of the work of the more important scientists associated with Kentucky medical schools. CHAPTER IV 1 The Protestant and Herald, November 2, 1843; Tri-Weekly Com­ monwealth, August 28, 1854. 2 The Fleming Gazette, March 3, 1931. 3 Paducah Weekly American March 28, 1855. For similar examples see The American (Harrodsburg), July 22, 1831; The Ploughboy, February 2, 1856. 4 The Lamp (Lincoln County), January 12, 1808. 5 Tri-Weekly Commonwealth, August 6, 1862. 6 David Bacon to W. A. Bacon, Cynthiana, Kentucky, August 2, 1840. ( MS letter in the Bacon collection). 7 Idem. 8 Scrap book in the possession of Mrs. Earnest Daughtry, Bowling Green, Kentucky; quoted in Lula Dickey Vance, "The Development of Education in Bowling Green," ( thesis, Western Kentucky State Teachers' College). 9 The South-Western Monthly (Nashville, 1852), II (1852), 131-133. 10 Daily Commonwealth, January 1, 1848; Tri-Weekly Common wealth, July 2, 1860. . . 11 Minutes of Bourbon County Academy, April 1, 1799. ( MSS m pos­ session of Miss Blanche Lilleston, Paris, Kentucky. Typed copy, Uni­ versity of Kentucky Library), 12 /bid., January 29, ·1802. 13 The Western Citizen, April 16, 1822. 14 Prospectus of The Rev. Mr. Peer's School (Lexington, 1830 ), 8; 210 ANTE-BELLUM KENTUCKY Kentucky Reporter, January 6, 1830. 15 Prospectus of the Rev. Mr. Peer's School, 15. 16 Idem. 17 I bid., 14. 18 Kentucky Reporter. September 22, 1830. 19 Timothy Flint, The History and Geography of the Mississippi Val- ley, 2 vols. (Cincinnati, 1832 ), I: 353. 2°Kentucky Senate Journal, 1816-1817, pp. 18-19. 21 Ibid., 1818, P· I I. 22 Kentucky Senate Journal, 1819-1820, pp. 15-17. 23 Report of the Commissioner of Education for the Year 1899-1900, vol. I (Washington, 1901 ), 503. 24 Idem. 25 Kentucky Senate Journal, 1822, p. 164. 26 Ibid., 185. 27 A. A. Page, "Benjamin Orr Peers; Educator," (Thesis, Western State Teachers' College), 11. 28 Lewis, History of Higher Education in Kentucky, 332. 29 "Benjamin Orr Peers, Educator," 16. 3°Kentucky Reporter, April 14, 1830. 31 Lexington Observer and Kentucky Reporter, January 31, 1833; Draper MS, 17 CC 56; (Library of State Historical Society of Wiscon­ sin.) 32 The Lexington Intelligence, October 23, 1833; Lexington Observer and· Kentucky Reporter, October 31, November 14, 1833; Draper MS 17cc56; Lexington City Council Records, October 3, 1833. 33 Lexington Observer and Kentucky Reporter, November 14, 1833. 34 Report of the Commissioner of Education for the Year 1899-1900, l:508-509. 35 Ibid., 510; Kentucky Senate Journal, 1838-1839, pp. 225-238. 36 Second Report of the Kentucky State Agricultural Society, 1858- 1859 (Frankfort, 1860), 65. 37 Report of the Superintendent of Public Instruction, 1852, (Frank­ fort, 1853 ), 4. 38 The superintendent became an elective officer under the provisions of the new constitution of 1850. This constitution devoted an entire section to the public schools. 34 Report of the Superintendent of Public Instruction, 1852, p. 12. 40 Ibid., 4-10, 19, 56, 92, I 16. 41 Ibid., 6. 42 Political and Educational Reform (Somerset, Kentucky 1854-1855 ), I. (1854), 244. 43 Louisville City Council Minutes, March 27, 1829. (MS records in City Hall); Kentucky Acts, 1827-1828, p. 219. 44 ldem. 45 Later amended to include children up to sixteen. NOTES 211

46 Louisville City Council Minutes, April 24, 1829. 47 School was first held in a church building. 48 History of the Ohio Falls Cities and Their Counties, 2 vols. (Cleve­ land, 1882), l:140; Louisville City Directory, 1832, p. 136. 49 Minutes, Board of Trustees, April 5, June 27, 1834, (records in the Louisville Department of Education). 5°City Ordinance of May 2 7, 1840. 51 Lexington City Council Records, August 2, 1832. 52 /bid., April 22, 1833. - 53 ldem. In Lexington's chatter ( 1831) the state gave the city govern­ ment the authority to establish "free" public schools but the custom of collecting tuition from those able to pay was permitted at this time. Kentucky Acts, 1831, p. 69. 54 Lexington City Council Records February 5, 1834. 55 Jbid., February 5, 1835. 56 Kentucky Reporter, February 10, 1836. 57 Lexington Observer, January 27, 1836. 58 Lexington City Council Records, January 9, 24, June 4, 1840. 59 ]bid., August 4, 1852. 60 Idem. 61 The highest salary in 185 2 was $700. 62 Lexington City Council Records, August 7, 185 1. 63 Idem. CHAPTER V 1 The Western Lancet ( Cincinnati, 1842-185 2; vols. IV and V pub­ lished in Lexington, Ky), V ( 1846-184 7), 67. 2 Samuel D. Gross, Then and Now (Philadelphia, 1867 ), 22; Trans­ actions of the Kentucky State Medical Society, 1852 (Louisville, 1853), 65-71. 3 Ibid., 26. 4 Ibid., 27. 5 Winston Coleman, Jr., Slavery Times in Kentucky, 29. 6 Linell's Laws, Il:46-48. Inoculation must not be confused with vac­ cination. 7 Francois A. Michaux, Travels to the West of the Allegheny Moun­ tains (London, 1805 ), 160. 8 Brown was the founder of Kappa Lamda, a professional f ratemity that gained national recognition. The fraternity has been inactive for many years but there have been recent attempts to revive it. 9 The Medical Repository, second ser. (New York, 1804-1809), I 1804), 61-64. 10 Ibid., IV (1808), 223-225. 11 I bid., 340. 12 Lunsford P. Yandell, "Notices on the Diseases of the Summer and Fall of 1832," in Transylvania Journal of Medicine and the Associate 2.12 ANTE-BELLUM KENTUCKY

Sciences, V ( 1832 ), 500-506; John S. Wilson to Joel T. Hart, Lexington Kentucky, November 25, 1849, (MS letter in the Joel T. Hart Papers, University of Chicago Library.) 13 Daniel Drake, A Systematic Treatise on the Principal Diseases of the Interior Valley of North America, (Cincinnati, 1850 ), 702. 14 Bardstown Candid Review, December 9, 1807. 15 Transactions of the American Medical Association, vol. V. ( 1852 ), 544-545; Drake, A Systematic Treatise on the Principal Diseases of the Interior Valley of North America, 402. 16 Transactions of the Anzerican Medical Association, vol. V ( r 85 2), 545. 17 Idenz. 18 Idem. 19 / bid., 5 46. 20 / bid., 408. 21 John P. Harrison, "Remarks on Cholera lnfantum," in Transylvania Journal of Medicine and the Associate Sciences, I ( 1828), ror. 22 lbid., 105-106. 23 John Esten Cooke, "An Essay on Cholera lnfantum," in Ibid., 196. 24 I bid., 204. 25 John Esten Cooke, A Treatise on Pathology and Therapeutics, 2 vols., (Lexington, 1828), 2: 133. 26 A. H. Barkley, Miscellany, (Lexington, 1924), 60. 27 Cooke, A Treatise on Pathology and Therapeutics, 2: 139. 28 Elisa Bartlett, The History, Diagnosis, and Treatment of the Fevers of the United States, (Philadelphia, 1847 ), 348. 29 Cooke, A Treatise on Pathology and Therapeutics, 2: 130. 30 Ibid., 2: 127. 31 fdem. 32 Idem. 33 lbid., 2:510. 34 [bid., 2: 191, 202, 5 IO ff. 35 Ibid., 2: 148-149. 36 Bartlett, The History, Diagnosis and Treatnzent of the Fevers of the United States, 384. 37 Samuel D. Gross, Then and Now, 62. 38 John Wilson Townsend, Kentucky in American Letters, 2 vols. (Cedar Rapids, 1913 ), I: 34-35; Transylvania Journal of Medicine and the Associate Sciences, VIII ( 1835 ), 301-393. 39 Transactions of The Kentucky State Medical Society, 1876, (Louis­ ville, 1876), 60. 40 Lewis Collins, Historical Sketches of Kentucky (Cincinnati, 1847), 580. 41 Samuel W. Gross (ed.), Autobiography of Samuel D. Gross, 2 vols. (Philadelphia, 1893 ), II: 267. 42 The New Orleans Medical Journal (New Orleans, 1844-), I ( 1844- NOTES 213 1845 }, 69-70; Daniel Drake, A Systentatic Treatise on the Principal Dis­ eases of the Interior Valley of North America, passim. 43 See malaria in Dictionary of American History, 111:328. 44 Drake, A Systematic Treatise, 697. 45 I bid., 698. 46 Transactions of the Kentucky State Medical Society,- 1852, pp. 264-265; J. N. McCormack, Some of the medical Pioneers of Kentucky (Bowling Green, Ky., 1917), 137-140. 47 S. D. Gross, Lives of Emminent American Physicians and Surgeons of the Nineteenth Century, (Philadelphia, 1861 ), 227. 48 Transactions of the Kentucky State Medical Society, 1852, pp. 102- 103. 49 Transactions of the American Medical Association, vol. XXV ( 1874), 327-333 and especially 328. 50 The Western Citizen, September 22, 1818. 51 James M. Bush, "Observations on the Operation of Lithotomy," in Transylvania Journal of Medicine and the Associate Sciences, X (1837), 493-494; The Family Magazine, IV (1840), 150; Transactions of the Kentucky State Medical Society, 1852, p. 200. Dudley did not keep a complete record of his cases so the exact number is unknown. 52 Autobiography of Samuel D. Gross, 2:349. 53 Transactions of the Kentucky State Medical Society, 18r2, p. 198. 54 Transylvania Journal of Medicine, X ( 1837), 478-498. 55 / bid., 488 ff. 56 Robert Peter's notes on Dudley's lectures, February 6, 1833 (MS in the Peter Collection). John Forbes, et al, The Cyclopaedia of Prac­ tical Medicine, 4 vols. (Philadelphia, 1847 ), Il:91. This Cyclopaedia makes the foil owing comment on this operation: "Where epilepsy has been caused by an external injury of the head, the operation of trephin­ ing has been practiced; and in some cases the results have been happy. The operation is, however, of a serious character." Jde,n. 57 Benjamin Winslow Dudley, "Observations on Injuries of the Head," in Transylvania Journal of Medicine and the Associate Sciences, I ( 1828), 9-14. 58 / bid., 14. 59 / bid., 16. 60 Autobiography of Samuel D. Gross, 2: 348. 61 Transactions of the Kentucky State Medical Society, 1852, p. 228. 62 Peter's notes on Dudley's lectures, February 2, 1833 (MS in the Peter Collection). 63 /bid., February 4, 1833. 64 Idem. 65 Transylvania Journal of Medicine and the Associate Sciences, I ( 1828), 266-283. 66 Marchus A. Chum, "Surgery," in Dissertations of Transylvania University, 1846, (MS. in Transylvania Library), 14. ANTE-BELLUM KENTUCKY

67 E. S. Dudley to Robert Peter, Paris, France, April 21, 1850 (MS letter in the Peter Collection). 68 New Orleans Medical Journal, Vol. I (1845), 124; Marchus A. Chum, "Surgery," 7-8; Robert Peter's Scrapbook, 2: 66-67 ( in the Peter Collection). 69 Ethelbert Dudley to Robert Peter, Paris, n.d. ( MS in the Peter collection). 70 He was at New York University for the session of 1850-1851. 71 Transactions of the Kentucky State Medical Association, 1852, 164, 168, 187-188, 214-215, 281. 72 I bid., 164. 73 Samuel D. Gross, A System of Surgery, 2 volumes, (Philadelphia, 1859), l:328. 74 Samuel D. Gross, "Results of Surgical Operations in Malignant Diseases," in Transactions of the American Medical Association, vol. VI, (1853), 313· 75 / bid., I 58, 310-3 I 2. 76 The first three issues of 184 3. 77 The Western Lancet, II ( 1843 ), 329; The American Journal of the Medical Sciences, new series, vol. VI, (1843), 140-144. 78 Published in Philadelphia by Blanchard and Lea. 79 Including the works of Sir Benjamin Brodie which up to this time had been regarded as the best. 80 British and Foreign Medico-Chirurgical Review, XX ( 1856), 80. 81 The Western Lancet, XII ( 185 1 ) , 799-800. 82 British and Foreign Medico-Chirurgical Review, XX ( 1856), 26. 83 Samuel D. Gross, A Practical Treatise on Foreign Bodies in the Air Passages, (Philadelphia, 1854), vii-viii. 84 I bid., 45 8. 85 Jbid., 459· 86 Dictionary of American Biography, VIII: 18-20. 87 Kentucky Documents, 1855-1856, pp. 150-154. CHAPTER VI 1 Charles W. Short, A Sketch of the Progress of Botany in Western America (Lexington, 1836 ), 6 ff. 2 I bid., 346-34 7; see also miscellaneous letters from Short to Peter in the Robert Peter Collection, and the letters in the Charles Wilkins Short Collection in the University of North Carolina Library. 3 C. S. Rafinesque to the Board of Trustees of Transylvania University, Lexington, April 5, 1823. (MS in Rafinesque Papers, Transylvania Col­ lege library) . 4 John James Audubon, Ornithological Biography, 5 vols. (Philadel­ phia, 1832), l:456. 5 Prospectus, By-laws, and Charter of the Transylvania Botan.ic Garden Company ( Lexington, 1824), 2. NOTES 215 6 Summary of Rafinesque's Herbarium (MS in the Philadelphia Acad­ emy of Science). 7 C. S. Rafinesque, Monograph on The Bivalve Fluotile Shells ( MS in the Rafinesque Papers), 1-2. 8 L. A. Brown, "Rafinesque, 1940," (typed MS in Transylvania Li- brary), 5-6. 9 Published by Macmillan, 1941. 10 Silliman's American Journal of Science and Arts, XIX ( 1855 ), 335. 11 lbid., 336. 12 Proceedings of the American Association for the Advancement of Science, V (1851), 229-235. 13 I bid., 2 30. 14 lbid., 232, 234. 15 Robert Peter to George Bouse, Esq., Lexington, August 2, 1871. (MS letter, Peter's copy, in the Peter Collection). 16 Sidney Lyon to Robert Peter, Jeffersonville, Ind., March 21, 1858. ( MS letter in ibid.). 17 D. D. Owen to Robert Peter, Frankfort, January 14, 1858. (MS letter in ibid.) 18 Benjamin Silliman to Robert Peter, New Haven, February 12, 1858. ( MS letter in ibid.) 19 B. L. C. Wailes, Robert on the Agriculture and Geology of .tlfissis­ sippi (Philadelphia, 1854), xiv. 20 D. D. Owen, Report of the Geological Survey in Kentucky Made During the Years 1854 and 1855 (Frankfort, 1856), 256. 21 I bid., 2 78. 22 Owen, Fourth Report of the Geological Survey in Kentucky (Frankfort, 1861 ), 28-29.

CHAPTER VII 1 Richard M'Nemar, The Kentucky Revival (New York, 1846), 13; see also William Warren Sweet, Religion on the American Frontier, The Presbyterians (New York, 1936), 5¢. 2 1bid., 23; see also, Frederick Morgan Davenport, Primitive Traits in Religious Revivals, (New York, 1917), 66ff. 3 Robert B. McAfee, "The History . . . of the First Settlements on Salt River" (MS in the Draper Collection, no 14cc102 ). 4 Robert Davidson, History of the Presbyterian Church in the State of Kentucky (New York, 1847), 81ff. 5 Ibid., 190 ff; Robert H. Bishop, An Outline of the History of the Church in the State of Kentucky (Lexington, 1824), 256, 306-307. 6 E. B. Crisman, Origin and Doctrines of the Cumberland Presbyterian Church (St. Louis, 1856), 26. 7 Davidson, History of the Presbyterian Church in the State of Ken- tucky, 132. 216 ANTE-BELLUM KENTUCKY

8 James Smith (ed.), The Posthumous Works of James M'Gready 2 vols. (Louisville, 1832 ), I: ix-xvi. 9 Ib.d1 ., Xlll-XV.... 10 South Union Shaker Record A, vol. I, p. 20. (The South Union MSS are in the Kentucky Building, Western Kentucky State Teachers' Col­ lege, Bowling Green. The MSS have been typed to facilitate research. Page numbers refer to the typed copies). 11 The Rev. J. J. Lyle, Diary, July 21, 1801 (MS in Kentucky State Historical Society Library.) 12 Idem. 13 Ibid., June 17, 1801; Richard M'Nemar, The Kentucky Revival, 19. 14 Western Presbyterian Herald, April 13, 1837. 15 Lyle's Diary, August 8, 1801; M'Nemar, The Kentucky Revival, 66; Christian Messenger, I ( 1826-1827), 76; South Union Shaker Record A, vol. I, pp. 20-21; Davenport, Primitive Traits, 73ff. 16 Catharine C. Cleveland, The Great Revival in the West ( Chicago, 1916), 134-135; "Minutes of Cumberland Presbytery," October 8, 18o6, in Sweet, Religion on the American Frontier, II, The Presbyterians, 304- 3o5. 17 Davidson, History of the Presbyterian Church in the State of Ken- tucky, 229. 18 "Minutes of the Synod of Kentucky," in Sweet, Religion on the A1nerican Frontier, II, The Presbyterians, 337. 19 Ibid., 336. 20 I bid., 338. 21 Cleveland, The Great Revival, 146 B. W. McDonald, History of the Cumberland Presbyterian Church (Nashville, 1893), 20-81 and passim. 22 William P. Strickland, (ed.) The Autobiography of Peter Cart­ wright, The Backwoods Preacher (New York, 1857 ), 47. 23 F. R. Cossitt, Life and Times of Rev. Finis Ewing (Louisville, 1853 ), passim; Davidson, History of the Presbyterian Church in the State of Kentucky, 254-255., 24 John Rogers ( ed.) The Biography of Elder Barton Warren Stone (Cincinnati, 1847), 29. 25 [bid., 30-3 I. 26 Ibid., 3 I. 27 Christian Messenger, V ( 1831 ), 43. 2s I bid., 3 3. 29 lbid., XIII ( 1843-1844), 192. 30 Ibid., I ( 1826), 77. 31 Richard M'Nemar, The ·Kentucky Revival, 42-75; Christian Mes­ senger, XIII ( 1843-1844), 194-195; Davidson, History of the Presbyteritm Church in the State of Kentucky, 192-193; Sweet, Religion on the Amer­ ican Frontier, II, The Presbyterians, 94-95. 32 An Apology for Renouncing the Jurisdiction of the Synod of Ken­ tucky (Lexington, 1804); Charles Crossfield Ware, Barton Warren NOTES 217 Stone (St. Louis, 1932), 137-138. 33 Alonzo Willard Fortune, The Disciples in Kentucky (St. Louis, 1932), 47-49. 34 R. Marshall and John Thompson, A Brief Historical Account of Sundry Things in tbe Doctrines and State of the Christian, or as it is co1nmonly called, the Neu~ligbt Church (Cincinnati, 1811 ), Passini. 35 The Christian Messenger, Vol. I.( 1826) and subsequent issues; The Western Presbyterian Herald, April 20, 1837. 36 J. H. Spencer, History of Kentucky Baptists, 2 vols. (Cincinnati, 1885 ), I: 211, 541. 37 / bid., 541; Sweet, Religion on the A1nerican Frontier, the Baptists (New York, 1931), 496-509. 38 Cleveland, The Great Revival, 130, 134. 39 Dictionary of A111erican Biography, vol. 3, pp. 446-448. 40 Anzerican Christian Review (Cincinnati, 1856-1857), I ( 1856), 381. 41 Debate Between Rev. A. Campbell and Rev. N. L. Rice (Lexington, 1844), 9o4-905. 42 Central Watchtower and Farmers Journal, May 16, 1829. 43 Millennial Harbinger, (Bethany, 1830-1870) II ( 1831 ), 557-558. 44 Christian Messenger, XIII ( 1843-1844), 185. 45 William Warren Sweet, The Rise of Methodism in the West (New York, 1920), 35; A standard reference work on Kentucky Methodism is Rev. A.H. Redford, The History of Methodism in Kentucky, 3 vols. (Nashville, 1868, 1870 ). 46 Strickland (ed.), The Autobiography of Peter Cartwright, the Backwoods Preacher, passim. 47 Gross Alexander, "A History of the Methodist Church, South," in American Church History, vol. 11 (New York, 1904), 38ff. 48 South Union Shaker Record A, vol. I, pp. 21-24. 49 I bid., 2 7. 50 Ibid., 208; D. M. Hutton, Old Shakertown and the Shakers (Har­ rodsburg, 1936), 13. 51 South Union Shaker Record A, vol. I, pp. 54, 64, 86, 94· 52 Ibid., 88; Anna White and Leila S. Taylor, Shakerism, Its Mean­ ing and Message (Columbus, Ohio, 1904), 122. 53 Thomas Brown, An Account of the People Called Shakers (Troy, N. Y., 1812), 352. 54 South Union Shaker Record A, Vol. I, pp. 40, 48. 55 Jbid., 30, 33, 34· 56 I bid., 50-5 I. 57 Hutton, Old Shakertown and the Shakers, 15. 58 South Union Shaker Record A, vol. II, p. 452. 59 Articles of Agreement entered into by the Shakers at South Union ( MSS in the Kentucky Building, Western Kentucky State Teachers College). 60 South Union Shaker Record A, vol. II, p. 452; Max Charleston, 218 ANTE-BELLUM KENTUCKY "The Shakers of Kentucky," 33 ff. (Typed MS in the Filson Club). 61 South Union Shaker Record A, vol. II, 452, 456-457. 62 Ibid., vol. I, pp. 178-179; vol. II, pp. 303-325. 63 I bid., vol. II, p. 2 76. 64 A Temporal Journal of East House, Book B, "Family Concerns," September II, 1858. (MS in Filson Club). 65 I bid., January 17, 1859. 66 fbid., December 21, 1858. 67 South Union Shaker Record A, vol. I, pp. 122-123, vol. II, 220, 233, 265. 68 Temporal Journal of East House, Book B, October 29, 1859. 69 South Union Shaker Record A, vol. II, p. 326. 70 Journal of a Voyage from South Union to New Orleans, 1831 ( MS in Kentucky building, Western Kentucky State Teachers College). 71 Temporal Journal of East House, Book, B, December 29, 1848. 72 Charleston, "The Shakers of Kentucky," 374. 73 Hutton, Old Shakertown md the Shakers, 26. 74 Charleston, "The Shakers of Kentucky,'' 59. 75 The best work on Shaker dances and songs is Edward D. Andrews, The Gift to Be Sinzple (New York, 1940). '""' 6 /b"dt ., I 2. 77 A Collection of Hymns, Anthems, and Tunes Adopted to the Worship ( MS hymnal in Kentucky Building, Western Kentucky State Teachers College). 78 Henry Redinger to Mrs. R. Bedinger, near Russellville, Kentucky, December 10, 1810, (MS letter in the Robert S. Franklin Collection, Charleston, West Virginia. Copy in the Filson Club). 79 Pleasant Hill Church Record, 1847-1866, March 14, 1858 (MS in the Filson Club). 80 Sister Mary Ramona Mattingly, The Catholic Church on the Ken­ tucky Frontier (Washington, 1936), 191-195. 81 ldem. 82 Martin J. Spalding, Sketches of the Life, Times and Character of Rt. Rev. Benedict Joseph Flaget, First Bishop of Louisville (Louisville, 1852 ), 76-86; Martin J. Spalding, Sketches of the Early Catholic Missions of Kentucky (Louisville, 1844), 67-70; Benjamin J. Webb, The Centen­ ary of Catholicity in Kentucky (Louisville, 1884), 159ff. CHAPTER VIII 1 William Littell, The Statute Law of Kentucky, 5 vols., (Frankfort, I 809- I 8 I 9 ) II: Io- I I. 2 lhid., I 1-19. 3 1bid., 18. 4 I bid., 487-48 I. 5 William C. Sneed, History and Mode of Management of the Ken­ tucky Penitentiary (Frankfort, 1860 ), 35. NOTES 219 6 Kentucky House Journal, 1821-1822, pp. 18-19. 1 Kentucky Senate Journal, 1825, p. 30; Sneed, History of Mode of Managenzent of the Kentucky Penitentiary, 164, 166, 183-184. 8 I bid., 184, 188. 9 Kentucky Senate Journal, 1833, 132-134. 10 Sneed, History and Mode of Manageraent of the Kentucky Peni- tentiary, 195. 11 lbid., 372, 296-399. 12 Kentucky House Journal, 1821-1822, p. 21. 13 ldem. 14 The act creating the institution was passed in 1822. 15 lbid., 139.ff; Transylvania Journal of Medicine and the Associate Sciences, II ( 1829 ), 505. 16 Ibid., 506-507. 11 Ibid., III (1830), 85. 18 Ibid., 81. 19 Kentucky House Journal, 1838-1839, p. 312. 20 Kentucky Documents, 1843-1844, p. 493. 21 Ibid., 1845-1846, pp. 605-632. 22 Kentucky Documents, 1851-1852, p. 66. 23 Idem. '.M Ibid., 66-77. 25 Kentucky Documents, 1859-1860, vol. II, document 11, p. 15. 26 I bid., document 6, p. 1. 27 Transactions of the Kentucky State Medical Society, 1873 (Louis ville, 1873), 31. 28 The Commentator, January 3, 1832; J. A. Jacobs, "Instruction of Deaf Mutes" in Political and Educational Reform in Kentucky (Somer set, 1854-? ), I (1854), 552. 29 ldem. 30 Idem.; Kentucky Documents, 1853-1854, document 9, pp. 10, 42. 31 The Commentator, January 3, 1832. 32 Charles P. Fosdick, "A Short History of the Kentucky School for the Deaf," in Histories of American Schools for the Deaf, 1817-1893, 3 vols. (Washington, 1893 ), I: 34. 33 Kentucky Documents, 1853-1854, document 9, pp. 42-43. 34 Ihid., 1855-1856, document 3, p. 19. 35 I hid., 3-6. 36 Ihid., 1842-1843, p. 273; 1843-1844, p. 461. 37 Ibid., 1861, vol. II, document 12, p. 22-23. 38 lhid., 1859-1860, vol. II, documtnt 12, p. 8. 39 lhid., 1843-1844, pp. 462-463; The Daily Commenwealth, January 24, 1844. 4°Kentucky Documents, 1843-1844, p. 463. 41 lbid., 1861, vol. II, document 12, p. 22. 42 lbid., 1843-1844, p. 465. 220 ANTE-BELLUM KENTUCKY

43 Daily Commonwealth, January 24, 1844. 44 The Kentucky Tribune, February 2, 1844. 45 Kentucky Documents, 1859-1860, vol. II, document 12, p. 4. 46 1bid., p. 6. CHAPTER IX 1 Rexford Newcomb, "Architecture in Kentucky," 1-6 (typed MS in the Mrs. Willis S. Fields collection, Lexington.) 2 Idem. 3 The Courier-Journal, June 19, 1880; Lexington Weekly Press, June 23, 1880; Elizabeth Stratton Field, "Gideon Shryock" ( MS Lexington Public Library). 4 On Strickland see F. Garvin Davenport, Cultural Life in Nashville on the Eve of the Civil War, ( Chapel Hill, 1941 ), 206 ff. 5 The best photographs and cross section plans of this building are in Rexford Newcomb, Old Kentucky Architecture (New York, 1940 ), plates 103-109. For a contemporary point of view see Timothy Flint, History and Geography of the Mississippi Valley, 2 vols. (Cincinnati, 1832 ), I: 352. 6 Transylvania MS 1831-u-1. (In Transylvania College Library). 7 ldem. 8 Transylvania MS 1833-u-44. 9 Transylvania MS 1831-u-1; Lexington City Council Records, No­ vember 4, 1833. 10 Rexford Newcomb, "Transylvania College ap.d Her Century-Old Greek Revival Building," in Art and Archeology (Washington, 1914-), XXIX ( 1930 ), 250-255. 11 "Gideon Shryock's Work in Louisville," (Typed MS in the Field Collection). 12 Newcomb, Old Kentucky Architecture, introduction and plates 122, 124, 126. 13 Miller MS (Library, Eastern Kentucky State Teachers' College). Without a doubt the most impressive pure Gothic structure erected in Kentucky in the nineteenth century was the Abbey of Our Lady of Gethsemani, near Bardstown. The Cistercian monks began to build this monastic retreat in 1851 but it was not completed until 1866. 14 S. W. Price, The Old Masters of the Bluegrass (Louisville, 1902 ), 21. 15 Not all authorities accept this date but it is reasonably accurate. See Samuel M. Wilson, "Matthew Harris Jouett," in Filson Club History Quarterly, XIII (1939), 78ff. 16 A long and tiresome trip for both horse and man. At least six weeks was usually allowed for the journey. 17 C. H. Hart, "Kentucky's Master Painter," in Harpers Monthly Mag­ azine (New York, 1856- ), vol. 98 (1899), 914-921; Henry H. Tucker­ man, Book of the Artists (New York, 1867), 68. 18 T. L. Barryman, "Kentucky Rubens and Some of his Subjects," in NOTES 221

Daughters of the American Revolution Magazine (\Vashington, 1879- ), issues for April and July, 1930. 19 Price, The Old Masters of the Blue Grass, 149. 20 School Contract, Nicholas County, January, 18 3 1 ( MS in the Joel T. Hart Papers, Durrett Collection, University of Chicago Library). 21 Joel T. Hart to John Hart, Bourbon County, Kentucky, May 15, 1832 (MS letter in the Hart papers); Lorado Taft, The History of Amer­ ican Sculptor (New York, 1930 ), 99. 22 Hart to Hart, May 15, 1832. 23 John Fowler and others to Andrew Jackson, Lexington, Kentucky, November 16, 1838 (MS letter in the Hart papers). 24 Idem. 25 Andrew Jackson to John Fowler and others, The Hermitage, De­ cember 24, 1838 (MS letter, copy, in the Hart papers). 26 Joel T. Hart to Henry Clay, Baltimore, September 26, 1845; Hart to Thomas Nelson, Philadelphia, November 7, 1845 (MS letter in ibid.). 27 Idem. 2-s Hart's passport was dated September 2, 1849 ( In the Hart papers). 29 Appleton's Cyclopedia, III: 102. 30 Taft, The History of American Sculptor, 101-102. 31 Letters Patent to Joel Tanner Hart of Lexington, Kentucky, London, February 27, 1857 (MS in Hart papers). 32 Idem. 33 Phrenological Chart, Lexington, Kentucky, February, 1844 ( in the Hart papers). 34 John S. Wilson to Hart, Lexington, May 4, 1858 (MS letter in ibid.). CHAPTER X 1 See above p. 75. 2 Lewis Collins, Historical Sketches of Kentucky, (Maysville and Cin­ cinnati, 1874), iii. 3 McClung wrote a novel called Camden, a story of the Revolutionary War, and a pseudo-historical book entitled Sketches of Western Ad­ venture which has caused considerable controversy among historians. Today the Sketches are considered interesting reading but not sound history. For a discussion of M'Clung's novel see above p. 171. 4 Robert B. M'Afee, History of the Late War in the Western Country (Lexington, 1816), vi. 5 Ralph Leslie Rusk, The Literature of the Middle Western Frontier, 2 vols., (New York, 1925 ), I: 248; James H. Rodabaugh, Robert Hamilton Bishop (Columbus, Ohio, 1935 ), 5!. 6 Both books have been saved from oblivion by recent reprints. 1 A Narrative of the Life and Travels of John Robert Shaw (Louis­ ville, 1930, a reprint), 189. The original was published in Lexington in 1807. 8 lbid., 106-107. 222 ANTE-BELLUM KENTUCKY

9 Records of Copyrights, District of Kentucky, May 1 3, 181 3 ( MSS in Federal Building, Frankfort). 10 William Littell, The Festoons of Fancy (Lexington, 1940), 63. 11 I bid., 4 7-48. 12 Published by the Primeton University Press under the auspices of the University of Kentucky. 13 Charles Caldwell, Autobiography, 2 vols. (Philadelphia, 1855 ), I: 321. 14 Charles Caldwell, A Discourse on the Genius and Character of the Rev. Horace Holley, (Philadelphia, 1828), 88 15 Caldwell, Autobiography, I: 407-408. 16 Edd Winifield Parks, Southern Poets (New York, 1936), 88-89; History of the Ohio Falls Cities, l:432. 17 The copy used is in the rare book room, University of Chicago Li- brary. 18 Thomas Johnson, Kentucky Miscellany, (Lexington, 1821), 21-22. io I bid., 34· 20 The Beck poems are quoted from The Western Review and Miscel­ laneaous Magazine (Lexington, 1819-1821 ), III: 378-379, 281-282. 21 Jean Thomas and Joseph A. Leeder, The Singin' Gatherin' (New York, 1939), 24. 22 Rusk, The Literature of the Middle Western Frontier, I: 313. 23 The Medley, or Monthly Miscellany, (Lexingto~ 1803), introduc­ tion to the first issue. There are copies of The Medley in the Lexington Pub~c Library and the Library of the State Historical Society of Wis­ consin. 24 /b"d1 ., 34· . 25 Earl L. W. Heck, "William Gibbs Hunt," in the Lexington Herald, April 17, 1932. 26 The Western Review and Miscellaneous Magazine (Lexington, 1819-1821 ), I ( 1819-1820 ), 305 ff and continued in subsequent issues. 21 Ibid., III (1820-1821), 145. 2.8 Idem. 29 /bed., IV {1821), 47, 53, 55. 30 The issues examined are in the Durrett Collection, University of Chicago Library. 31 The Orphan's Casket (Louisville, 1845-? ), II ( 1848), 26-27. 32 Candid Review, December 9, 1807. 33 The Lamp, January 12, 1808. 34 ldem. 35 /dem. 36 The Central Watchtower and Fanners' Journal, December 29, 1827; March 20, June 13, 1829; May 22, 1830. 37 The North Anzerican Literary and Political Register, November 9, 1826. 38 /bid., December 7, 1826. NOTES 223 39 The Spirit of Washington and Lexington Literary Journal, October 2, 1832. 40 The Franklin Farmer, December 1, 1838. 41 There is no copy of the first issue extant, but Bradford related the early history of the paper in later issues. See Kentucky Gazette, January 4, 1794· 42 His brother, Fielding Bradford. . 43 In this connection see Huntley Dupre, "The Kentucky Gazette Re­ ports the French Revolution," in Mississippi Valley Historical Review, XXVI ( 1939 ), 163-180. 44 Kentucky Gazette, August 18, 1787. 45 Prentice was not a Kentuckian by birth. He was a native of New London, Connecticut, and received his education in New England in­ stitutions. After his graduation from Brown University in 1823 he abandoned the legal profession in order to accept the editorship of The New England Review. He won immediate recognition and was commis­ sioned by the Whigs to visit Kentucky and write a biography of Henry Clay. It was as a biographer of Clay that he was first introduced to Ken­ tucky in 1830. A. Depuy Van Buren, Jottings of a Year's Sojourn in the South (Battle Creek, 1859), 273-274; Courier-Journal, January 23, 1870. 46 Louisville / ournal, January 4, 18 3 1. 47 Van Buren, Jottings of a Year's Sojourn in the South, 270-271. 48 Joseph Jefferson, Autobiography, (New York, 1889), 329.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

BIBLIOGRAPHY OF MANUSCRIPT SOURCES

(Note: since it is desirable to conserve paper for the war effort and since the notes are complete, the author and publisher agreed to limit the bibliography to manuscript material.) Bacon, W. A., Collection (diary, letters, and papers), in the pos- session of Mr. L. V. Hagan, Jr., Austerlitz, Kentucky. Bascom, Henry B., Diary (in Transylvania College Library). Brown, L. A., "Rafinesque, 1940," (typed MS in ibid). Cases in Bankruptcy, 1842-1850 (Federal Building, Frankfort, Kentucky). Charleston, Max, "The Shakers of Kentucky," (typed MS in the Filson Club Library, Louisville, Kentucky). Clark County Records, Appraisals, Inventories, and Wills, 1850-1858 (Clark County Court House, Winchester, Kentucky). Curry, E. E., Collection of letters and business papers ( in private hands, Winchester, Kentucky). Curry, W. B., "History of the Catholic Church, White Sulphur, Ken­ tucky," (in Kentucky State Historical Society Library, Frankfort, Kentucky). Dissertations of Transylvania University, 1820-1859 (in Transylvania College Library). Draper MS 17cc56 (photostatic copy in author's possession; original in the Library of the State Historical Society of Wisconsin). Fayette County Court Order Books, 1820-186o ( in Fayette County Court House, Lexington, Kentucky. Field, Elizabeth Stratton, "Gideon Shryock," (MS in Lexington Public Library). Franklin County Will Book number I (in Kentucky State Historical So­ ciety Library, Frankfort, Kentucky). Franklin, Robert S., Collection of Letters ( copies in Filson Club Li­ brary). Gronnert, T. G., "History of Centre College from 1830 to 1857," (typed MS in Centre College Library). Hart, Joel T., Papers (in University of Chicago Library; these papers and letters are included in the Durrett Collection which contains many of the rare newspapers used in this study). Hatch, S., Lecture Notes, n.d. (in Transylvania College Library). Holley, Horace, Papers (in ibid.) Kemper, Bishop Jackson, Diary (MS in the library of Wisconsin State Historical Society; extracts in the New York Public Library). Lexington City Council Records, 1832-1860 (in the Municipal Building, Lexington). Louisville City Council Minutes ( in City Hall, Louisville). 228 ANTE-BELLUM KENTUCKY Louisville Police Court Records, 1836-1860 (in Police Court Office, Louisville). Lyle, ;Reverend J. J., Diary ( in Kentucky State Historical Society Li­ brary). McAfee, Robert B., "The History of the First Settlements on Salt River," Draper MS no. 14cc102. Miller Papers ( in Library of Eastern Kentucky State Teachers' College, Richmond, Kentucky). Minutes of the Board of Trustees of the Louisville Department of Edu­ cation ( in the Department of Education Building, Louisville). Minutes of the Bourbon County Academy ( MS in the possession of Miss Blanche Lilleston, Paris Kentucky; typed copy in University of Kentucky Library). Newcomb, Rexford, "Architecture in Kentucky," (typed MS in the Mrs. Willis S. Fields Collection, Lexington). Pennell, Francis W., "The Life and Works of Rafinesque," (typed MS in Transylvania College Library). Perry County Court Order Books, 1820-1830 (in Perry Coun1¥ Court House, Hazard, Kentucky). Peter, Robert, Collection (hundreds of letters, numerous unpublished MSS, scrap books, note books, etc. In Transylvania College Library). Pleasant Hill Church Record ( in Filson Club Library). Rafinesque, Constantine, Papers (in Transylvania College Library and Philadelphia Academy of Science). Records of the Board of Trustees of Transylvania University, 1798-1860 (in Transylvania College Library). Records of Copyrights, District of Kentucky, 1853-1855, (in Federal Building, Frankfort). Rodes, John S., "Early History of Bowling Green," ( typed MS in Li­ brary of Western Kentucky State Teachers' College, Bowling Green, Kentucky). Short, Charles Wilkins, Collection ( numerous letters in Filson Club and University of North Carolina Library). South Union Shaker Records {the collection includes journals of voy­ ages and hymnals as well as official records. In Library of W estem Kentucky State Teacher's College). Temporal Journal of East House (a Shaker MS pertaining to Shaker­ town, Mercer County, Kentucky, MS in the Filson Club). Transylvania Manuscript Collection (miscellaneous papers pertaining to the history of Transylvania University. In Transylvania College Li­ brary). Trial of James Welsh (a MS dealing with early religious problems. In Transylvania College Library). Winchester Trustee Book, 1832 and subsequent dates (in Clark County Court House, Winchester, Kentucky). Woodson, Mrs. Mary, "My Recollections of Frankfort," (in Kentucky State Historical Society Library) . INDEX

INDEX

Academies, 37, 6o-61, 63-64. Baptists, xv; and Georgetown Col­ Adair, Governor John, 145, 147. lege, 51-54; on frontier, 118; and Agricultural Society, First Ken- Great Revival, 129-131. tucky State, 8-9; Second Ken­ "Barbara Allen," ballad, 185-186. tucky State 9; Third Kentucky Barbecues, 14, 28. State 9-10; county societies, 9-12. Barnum, P. T., mentioned, 35. Allen, Dr. John R., 150. Barrens, described, 1-2. Amusements, in mountains, 4; at Barry, William T., reports on county fairs, 1 1-1 2; of country education, 66. folk, 12-18; at watering places, Bascom, Henry B., President of 18; for Negroes, 20; in town, Transylvania University, 47-48. 25ff; the theater, 30-34; concerts Bates, Issacher, 132. and minstrels, 34-36; circus, 35; Bear baiting, 14. in insane asylum, 149. Beck, George, poet, 18 3-185. Anglo-Saxons, tradition of, 2. Beecher, Lyman, 68-69. Animals, in streets, 2 1-22. Berea College, 54-56. Apprentices, 23. Bi~hop, Robert Hamilton, histor- Architecture, and frontier, xvi, ian, 173-174. 159-160; influence of Thomas Blackburn, Reverend Gideon, 49. Je.fferson and Gideon Shryock, Blind, care of, 154-158. xvi; mountain homes, 4; exhibits Blissett, Frank, actor, 32. of, at fairs, 10; medical buildings, Bluegrass, compared with Middle 58; Greek Revival, 160-163; Tennessee, xvii; mentioned 1; Gothic influence, 163. farms in, 5; stock breeders in, 8; Art ( see portrait painting, archi­ first cattle show in, 8; towns in, tecture, and cultural interests), 24; sleighing parties in, 2 7; actors in Kentucky, xvi; in homes 7; in, 32; public schools in, 77; ty­ prizes for at fairs, 10; architec­ phoid in, 85; revival in, 120. ture, 159-163; portrait painters, Booth, Edwin, mentioned, 33. 163-166; sculptors, 166-169. Bowling Green, concens in, 35; Artisans, 7, 10. private schools in, 61-62. Asbury, Francis, 1 3 2. Bradford, John, historian, 172; Auburn, N. Y., prison at, 145. publisher, 195-196; and Kentucky Audubon, John James, 108-109; Gazette; 195-1q6. Birds of America, 110. Bradley, R. M., mentioned, 72. Breakdowns ( see dancing). Bacon, David, operates school, 61. Breckinridge, Robert J ., mention- Baden, Reverend Stephen Theo­ ed, xvi; and public schools, 71- dore, 141. 72. Ballads, 4, 13, 20, 185-188. Brashear, Dr. Walter, 93-94. 232 ANTE-BELLUM KENTUCKY

Brown, Dr. Samuel, n1entioned 43; cholera, 87-88; Cookeism, 88-90. introduces Jenner vaccine, 8 3; Courier, The, 195. publications of, 84; practice of, Courts, in mountains, 3. 84. Court Day, 29. Bullock, Joseph, first Superintend­ Covington, slaughter house men in, ent of Public Instruction, 70-71. 2 2; mentioned, 79. Butler, Mann, as educator, 75; as Crab Orchard, race track at, 16. historian, 172-173. Crawford, Jane, and ovariotomy, 94· Caldwell, Dr. Charles, and Trans­ Crime, in towns, 22-23; laws per- y 1vania Library, 4 3; leads revolt ta1mng to, 14 3-144. at Transylvania, 46, 57; use of Crinoids, study of, 1 1 1 - 1 1 2. calomel, 90-91; as a phrenologist, Cultural interests, xiii-xviii, 7; for 91; as author, 177-178. farmers, 9, 13-14; in town, 25ff; Camp bell, Alexander, 1 2 9-1 3 1. educational institutions, 37-79; Campbell, Dr. Duncan R., 53. science, 80-116; religious Cane Ridge, and Great Revival, thought, 117-141; humanitarian 120-121. institutions, 142-158, fine arts, Cartwright, Peter, 132. 159-170; literature, 171-199. Cataracts, operation for, 100-101. Cumberland Presbyterians, xv, Catholics, and Great Revival, 140; I 22-124. leadership of, 140-141. Cushman, Charlotte, 3 3. Central Watchtower and Farmer's Cynthiana, amphitheater at, 10. Journal, 193. Centre College, xiv; chartered, 49; Dancing, 4; at fairs, 11-12; types formative period of, 49-50; of, 13-14; in towns, 25, 26, 27; Young's administration, 50-5 1. considered bad for health, 92; in Chamberlain, Reverend Jeremiah, Shaker churches, 1 39. 49· Danville, Centre College at, 49-5 1; Charities, 28. early church at, 118; institution Chivers, Thomas H., poet, 178-179. for the deaf at, 152-154. Cholera, epidemics of, 86-87; Deaf, education for, 151-154. causes of 87-88; in prison, 146. Dean, Julia, 3 3. Christian Church ( see Barton W. Deer Hunting, 15. Stone). Desha, Governor Joseph, 45. Circus, 35. Dix, Dorothea Lynn, 147. City life ( see town life). Dollar Farmer, 195. Clothing, 4, 7-8; of deer hunter, Downs, William, hymn writer, 15; of fashionable women, 2 5; of 188. men, 26. Drake, Dr. Daniel, xiv, 18, 43, 59; Colleges (see educational institu- and malaria, 84; and typhoid, 86; tions). sketch of life, 91; at University Collins, Lewis, historian, 172-173. of Louisville, 91 ; study of inland Commonwealth, The, 195. disease, 9 1-92. Cooke, Dr. John Esten, and use of Drake, Mrs., actress, 32. calomel, xiv-xv, 88; and causes of Drechman, Gustavus, 35. INDEX 2 33 Drew, Mr. and Mrs., 33. 26; Love's Tavern at, 30; theater Drunkards, 2 2. at, 32; concerts at, 35; private Dudley, Dr. Benjamin, xiv, 43, 46, schools at, 61; public schools at, 59, 93; reputation of 96; as litho­ 79; architecture at, 161. tomist, 96-97; as brain surgeon Franklin Fanner, 194-195. 97-98; use of bandage, 99-1oo. Frontier, and mountain life, 2-3; Dunlavy, John, 133. evidence of in towns, 2 1; and Dutch, mentioned, 2. education 37; and science, So, 117; and religion, 117-118; and Educational institutions, xm-xtv, architecture, 159-160; and litera­ collegiate, 37-59; academies and ture, 171-172; and ballads, 185- public schools, 37, 60-79; Trans­ 188. ylvania University 38-49, 55, 56, F urnicure, in mountain homes, 3; 5 7; Centre C o 11 e g e 49-5 1; in farm house, 7; and interior Georgetown College, 5 1-5 4; St. decoration, 163-164. Josephs', 54; Bethel College, 54; Augusta College, 54; Bacon Col­ Gallaudet, Thon1as H., 15 1. lege, 54-55; Shelby College, 54; Gayle, Josiah, educator, 77. Berea College, 54-56; University Georgetown College, founded 5 1; of Louisville, 56-59; Louisville early troubles of, 51-52; Camp­ Medical Lnstitute, 57-59; private bell administration, 5 3; curricu­ schools, 60-62; Peers' Eclectic lum, 54. Institute, 63-64; public schools, Germans, mentioned, 2; in Louis­ 64-73; city schools, 73-79. ville, 24; scientific influence of, England, influence on science, xv, l l 5. 115. Goodrich, Molly, and Shakers, English, mentioned, 2. 1 33· flf· Granade, John A., hymn writer, Fairs, first state, 10; county, 10-12; 188. fees and by-laws of, 11. Grave robbers, 23. Farmers' associations, xv, 8-12. Great Revival, xv; 1 17-141; and Farm tools, 3,5; exhibited at fairs, frontier forces, 117-118; started I l. by James McGready, 119-120; Fashions ( see clothing). in Lexington, 1 20; at Pleasant Fee, John G., and Berea College, Point and Cane Ridge, 120-122; 55-56. and Presbyterians, 12 1-129; and Filson, John, historian, 172. Baptists, 129-13 1; and Metho­ Flager, Right Reverend Benedict dists, 1 3 1- 132; and Shakers, 132- Joseph, 141. 140; and Catholics, 140. Food, 3, 4, 6-7; exhibits at fairs, 11; Gross, Dr. Samuel D., xiv; 59, 93; in town homes, 27, 28; in hote!s, estimate of ~kill, 100; his writ­ 29; in Shaker villages, 1 36. ings, 100-101; on cancer, 101- Fox hunting, 15. 102; as teacher, 102; experiments Frankfort, farmers' library in, 9; and publications, 102-105. animals in streets, 2 1 ; state pris­ on at, 2 3; entertains Lafayette, Harrison, James 0., and educa- 2 34 ANTE-BELLUM KENTUCKY tion, 78. entiation, xvii; a part of the na­ Harrodsburg, early church at, 118. tional scene, xvii-xviii; country Harrod's Run, early school at, 61. life in, 1-20; town life in, 21-36; Hart, Joel T., sculptor, 166-170. colleges in, 37-59; public schools Heinrich, Anthony Philip, com- in, 60-79; scientific interests in, poser, 34. 80-116; religious activities in, Holidays, 22, 27-29. 116-141; humanitarian institu­ Holley, Horace, President of tions in, 142-158; artistic con­ Transylvania University, 40-46; tribulations of, 159-170; literary 50. contributions of, 171-199. Home canning, 7. Kentucky Garland, 191. Horse racing, 16-17. Kentucky Gazette, racing news in, Hospitality, 13, 19, 27. 16; quoted, 33; considered an Hotels, 2 5; Weisiger House, 26; evil force, 45; importance of, as recreational centers, 29-30; 195- 1¢. bed bugs in, 29; Galt House, 29; Kentucky Military Institute, 62. Love's Tavern, 30. Kentucky Statesmm, 195. Hounds, 15-16. Knoxville, mentioned, 1 20. Housing conditions, 4, 5, 6, 18. Huguenots, mentioned, 2. Laborers, 2 3-24. Hunn, Dr. Anthony, journalist, Lafayette, entertained, 26. 192-193. La1np, The, early newspaper, 192. Hunt, Charleton, studies Lexing­ Latrobe, William, 161. ton education, 75. Law, code, of, 142. Hunt, William Gibbs, journalist, Lecompte, the horse, 16-17. 189-191. (See Western Review). Lecomte's restaurant, 29. Hunting (see sports). Lee, Ann, 1 39. Letter writing, 12-13. Indians, 2. Lewinski, Major Thomas, archi­ Industries, 2 3-24. tect, 163. Insane, care of, 147-151. Lexington, the horse, 16-17. Irish, in Louisville, 24. Lexington, xiii; compared with Nashville, xvii; first stock show Jacobs, John Adamson, and school near, 8; race track at, 16; animals for deaf, 152-154. in streets of, 21-22; graves robb­ Jails, in mountains, 3; in towns, 2 3. ed in, 2 3; commercial interests, Jefferson County Agricultural and 24; intellectual interests, 2 5; en­ Mechanical Association, 10. tertains Lafayette, 26; football in, Jefferson, Thomas, and Greek Re- 28; taverns in, 29; theater in, 32; vival, xvi. concerts in 35; Transylvania Jefferson, Tom, actor, 32. University in, 28-49, 55, 56, 57; Johnson, Thomas, poet, 182-183. academies at, 60-61, 6 3-64; pub­ J ouett, Matthew Harris, portrait lic schools at, 75-79; plans for painter, 164-165. botanical garden, 109; early church at, II8; Deists in, 120. Kentucky, and professional differ- Lexington Observer and Report- INDEX 2 35 er, 195. Marshall, Humphry, historian, 172- Libraries, in Frankfort, 91; at 173• Transylvania, 43-44; at George­ Martineau, Harriet, mentioned, 19. town College, 53; at University Maryland, mentioned, 2. of Louisville, 58. Masonic University of Kentucky, Lind, Jenny, in Louisville, 35. 48. Literature, quantity of, 171; novels, Masons, 21; and poor relief, 23; ea- 171-172; reading habits, 172; his­ tertain, 2 7. torians, 172-174; informal litera­ Maupin hounds, 15-16. ture, 174-177; controversial liter­ Maysville, mentioned, 1, 79. ature, 177-178; poetry, 178-185; Maysville Eagle, 195. ballads, 185-188; periodicals, Meachem, John, 132. 188-192; newspapers, 192-199. Medical Science, as an aspect of Littell, William, and The Festoons education, 80; and frontier, So; of Fancy, 174-176. reform needed in, 80-81; evils of Louisville, compared with Cincin­ practice, 81-82; popular objec­ nati, xviii; fair grounds near, 10; tions to, 82; smallpox law, 83; Oxmoor place near, 19; race common diseases and treatments, track at 16; hogs in streets of, 21; 84-87; Cookeism, 88-90; hygiene,. as trading center, 24; typical citi­ 92; death rate, 106; and mental zen of, 25; Irish in, 24; Germans cases, 147. in, 24; entertains Lafayette, 26; Medley, The, 188-189. private parties, 2 7; taverns, 29; Methodists, xv; and Transylvania theater, 32-33; Gottschalk in, College, 47-48; on frontier, 118; 34; Jenny Lind in, 35; minstrels and Great Revival, 131 - 132. in, 35-36; colleges, 56-59; public Michaux, Andre and Fran~ois, 107. schools, 73-75; school for blind, Minstrels, 35-3 6. 154-158. Morrison Hall, symbol of Greek Louisville Journal, 196-199. Revival, 161-162. Louisville, University of, xiv; 36- Mountaineers, 1 -4. 59; importance of medical de­ Music, 13-14, 18, 19-20, 27; value of partment, 57; equipment and musical education, 3 3; original curriculum, 58-59. compositions, 3 3; Anthony Phil­ Ludlow, N. M., 31. ip Heinrich, 34; concerts, 34-35; Lyon, Sidney, geologist, 113-II4. Ministrels, 35-36; Shaker hymns, 138; ballads, 185-188. M'Afee, Robert B., historian 173- 174· Nashville, compared with Lexing­ McDo~ell, Dr. Ephraim, and ton, xvii, mentioned, 120. ovanotomy, 94-95. Natural science, condition of 107; McGready, James, revivalist, 1 .t9- opportunities in Ohio Valley, 120; I 24. 107; botanists and zoologists, McKendree, William, 132. 108-1 1 o; amateur astronomers, McMurtry, John, architect, 163. 1 1o; meteorites, 1 1o- 1 1 1; pale­ M'Nemar, Richard, 121,127,128, ontology, 111-112; chemistry I 33• and society, 112-II 3; geological ANTE-BELLUM KENTUCKY surveys, 113-116; Robert Peter's 191-192. contributions, 114-116. Pestalozzian principle, at Peers' Negroes, 3, 6, 12, 14, 19-20; and school, 63. typhoid fever, 85. Peter, Robert, xv, 18, 46, 108; ad­ Nerinckx, Reverend Charles, 141. vocate of soil analysis, 11 3; con­ New England, peddlers from, 8. nection with geological survey, New Orleans, horse race at, 16-17. I I 3-116. Newspapers, xvi; used against Hol- Phrenology, 91. ley, 45; sketches of, 192-199. Pioneers, 1-2. Newport, mentioned, 79. Pleasant Point, revival at, 120. Nicholasville Academy, 61. "Plugmusses," 30. North American Literary and Po­ Poetry, xvi; 178-185. litical Register, 193. Polka, 13. North Carolina, compared with Portrait painting, xvi, 7, 164-165. Kentucky, xviii. Pre-historic inhabitants, men- tioned, 2. Odd Fellows, and poor relief, 23; Prentice, George D ., quoted, 22; and Transylvania College, 48. career of, 196-199. 0 'Hara, Theodore, poet, 179-181. Presbyterians, at Transylvania Ohio Valley, mentioned, xviii,1- University, xiii, 39ff; early lead­ 2; natural scientists in, 107-108. ers of, 118-120; oppose revival, Orphans, 3; apprenticed, 23. 121-129. Orphans' Casket, The, 191-192. Prose, xvi-xvii, 171ff. Ovariotomy, 94-95. Public schools ( see educational in- Owen, David Dale, and geological stitutions). survey, 113-114. Pursh, Frederick, 107. Oxmoor place, slaves on, 14; ef­ "Push Boat," ballad, 186-187. ficiently operated, 19. Rafinesque, Constantine S., 107- Paducah, animals in streets of, 21 ; 1 I 3• circus, 36. Rankin, Adam, 118. Paris, Ky., first state fair at, 10; Recipes, 6-7. Bourbon Academy at, 62. Religious influence, xv-xvi; on the­ Patten, Bryce M., and school for ater, 3 1; in education ( see Trans­ blind, 157-158. ylvania University, Centre Col­ Paupers, 23. lege, Georgetown College, 39- Peddlers, 8. 54), Great Revival, 117-141. Peers, Benjamin 0., xiv; and Ecle­ Rice, David, 118. ctic Institute, 63-64; crusades for Rice, Thomas D., and "Jim Crow," public schools, 67-69. 36. Penitentiary, founded, 144; life in Ruffin, Edmund, mentioned, xv, 144- 147. 195· Periodicals, xvi; agricultural, 9; The Medley, 189; The Western Scientific interests, xiv-xvi, 8, 10, Review 189-191; Kentucky Gar­ 43-44, 46, 54, 57-58; medicine land, 191; The Orphans' Casket, and surgery, 80- 106; natural INDEX 2 3i sciences, 107-1 16. 14; bear baiting, 14; hunting Scotch-Irish, n1entioned, 2. parties, 14; deer and fox hunting, Scott, Joel, prison keeper, 145- 15; hound dogs, 15-16; horse 147• racing, 16- 1 7; for to\vn n1en, 2 8- Sculptors, 166- I 70. 29. Serra, Abbe Correa de, 107. Springs, 1 i- I 8. ( see amusements). Shakers, xv; and Great Revival, Stone, Barton \Varren, earlv life, 131-132; in l\1ercer County, 133; 124-12 5; and Great revivai, 126; at South Union, 13 3; opposition at Cane Ridge, 126; breaks ,vith to, 133-134; purpose of 134-135; Presbyterians, 126- 12 7; organizes government and life of 1 35- Lfb. Christian Church, 128; founds Sha\V, John Robert, well digger Cbristian A1essenger, 129; merges and story teller, 174-175. ,vith Campbell, 1 3 1; denounced Shryock, Gideon, architect, xvi, b~~ Shakers, 133. I 60-163. Strickland, \Villian1, 161 163. Shucking bee, 20. Stuart, Gilbert, 164. Silver\vare, 7; note 10, p. 203. Superstitions, 5; and Great Revival, Surgery_, more popular. than ther- i I 9- I 2 I. apeuncs, 93; an1putat1ons, 93-94~ case of hernia, 95; Dudley and Tavlor, Caleb Jarus, hyn1n ,,Titer, lithoton1y, 96-97; brain surgery, I 88. 97-98; ligation of arteries, 98; use Teachers, paid in whiskey, 60; of bandage, 99-100; cancer, 101- peculiar duties of, 62; salaries, 102; bronchotomy, 104. 76-77. Slaughter, Governor Gabriel, on Tennessee, con1pared with Blue­ education, 64-65. grass, xvin. SlaYerv,., books on, xvi; in n1oun- Tl;earer, early perfonnances in, 30; rains, 3; n1entioned, 15; at ,vater- life of troupers, 30; a Paris audi­ ing places, 18; relations \Vith ence, 30-3 1; religious prejudice, whites 19-20. 3 1; leadership of Sarnuel Drake, S111ith, Joseph B., blind teacher and 31-33; in Frankfort, 32; in Lex­ n1usician, 158. ington, 32-33; in Louisville, 32. S1nith, J. Lawrence, scientist, 110- Tc)\vn life, 2 1-36; street conditions, 1 I!. 21-22; cnn1e, 22-23; poyerty, 23; Sn1ith, Sol, quoted, 3 1. jndustry, 2 3-z4; social life, 25-30; Social progress, n1easuring stick of, cost of food, 29; taverns, 29; xvii; fairs an aid to, 11-12; hu­ sports, 28-29; theater, 30-33; con­ n1aaitarian acts, 2 3; social in­ certs, 3 3-3 5; circus, 35; n1instrels, tercourse, in towns, 25-26; care 36; educational institutions, 3 7- of the unfortunates, 142- 158. 79. Song titles, 33. Tramps, 22. Spalding, 1\1ost . Reverend l\1artin Transportation, rural, 5, 7 2. John, 141. Tra11svJ.vania ]our11al of Nledicine Spirit of JV ashington and texing- and Associate Sciences, 46, 108. ton Literary Journal, 194. Transvkania Universinr, xii-xiv, Sports, for children, 12; barbecusc, 2 5, · founded 37-39; first presi- ANTE-BELLUM KENTUCKY

dent, 39; first museum, 39; early \Valker Hound, 15-16. dissension in 39-40; Presbyterian \Valtz, an aristocratic dance, 1 3. influence on, 39ff; Horace Hol­ ( see dancing). ley as president, 4off; curriculum Ward, Sallie, social butterfly, 2 7. at, 41-42; rules at, 42-43; la,v Watering places, 1 7- 1 8. ( see school, 4 3; medical department, amusements) 43-44, 46-47, 48; controlled by \Veddings, 4, 2 7. City of Lexington, 4 7; Metho­ Western Citizen, 195. dists at, 47-48; Louisville divi­ \Vestern Military Institute, 62. sion of medical department. 48; JVestern Review, The, 189-191. sponsors public education, 68-69. Winchester, race track at, 16; hogs Trigg hounds, 15-16. in streets of, 2 1. Troost, Gerard, mentioned, 1 1 1. \Vomen, in mountains, 3-4; on Typhoid epidemics, 85-86, 106. f arn1s, 6; at county fairs, 1 1-1 2; Universitv of Kentucky, men- in tO'wns, 25, 27, 28; health of, 92. tioned,· 54. ,voods, Dr. Alva, educator, 67. Urban life ( see town life). Usher, Luke, mentioned, 31. Yandell, Lunsford Pitts, scientist, Utensils, in mountain homes, 3, 5- 46, 107, III-II2. 7. Youngs, Benjamin, Shaker leader, arrives in Kentucky, 132; organ­ Virginia, compared with Kentuc­ izes Shakers, 133; waylaid, 134. ky, xviii; slaves f ron1, 3. Young, Reverend John Clark, Virginia Reel, 13. President of Centre College, 50- \,\'ailes, B.L.C., 1 1 5. 51.