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| By Richard T. Martin. 1
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| During the spring of 1851 an excitement was
started in the western part of Muhlenberg County which continued for more
than two years. Mark Duvall claimed he had found silver ore in the hills
of his neighborhood. Mark Duvall was a son of Benjamin Duvall, an old
settler who lived about six miles west of Greenville. Benjamin Duvall was
the father of Howard, Mark, and Benjamin Duvall, jr., or "Darky," as he
was commonly called. |
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| Mark Duvall when a young man learned the
tanner's trade under John Campbell of Greenville, who conducted a tannery
near where the Greenville Milling Company's planing mill is now located.
Mark had also devoted some time to the study of chemistry and mineralogy,
and had become a good tanner. After remaining with Campbell for a few
years he married and located near his father's farm, on which was a good
running spring. There Mark established a tanyard of his own, which was
well patronized. Mark was a quiet, sober, and well-liked man, and had the
full confidence of all who knew him. In fact, the Duvall family stood high
in the community. |
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| There were about four hundred acres of hilly
land lying east of Jarrell's Creek, all of which was owned by Benjamin
Duvall and his neighbors. In the spring of 1851 Mark Duvall reported that
he had discovered the existence of silver ore in this hilly section. He
would not point out any particular spot where silver could be found, but
declared that rich veins of it occurred throughout these hills. The
proclamation of this news was very encouraging to those who owned the
hills. Steps were at once taken and prospecting commenced, and soon the
digging of holes and pits was carried on in earnest. As the news of the
great silver discovery spread, prospecting extended until everybody in the
western part of the county was on the lookout for ore, and in a short time
the whole county was more or less interested. |
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| This was only a few years after the excitement
of the Buckner and Churchill Iron Works had subsided. Some people seemed
to take a great interest in the matter, while others scouted the idea.
Secret investigations were conducted in different parts of the county, but
the investigations made among the hills were boldly carried on with
greater assurance. Several of the moneyed men of Greenville became
interested in the silver project, and made arrangements to become partners
with those owning the hills and to furnish means for a thorough
investigation of the matter. |
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| When Mark Duvall had declared that there was
silver in the hills. he backed up his statement by melting "silver" out of
the rock that had been mined by the landowners. Different kinds of rock
had been dug up; some limestone, some iron ore, and a blue sandstone which
sparkled with particles of mica, and was considered the richest and most
plentiful of the "silver" ore. |
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| Duvall had a novel way of extracting silver from
this blue sandstone. He used a deep iron bowl with a long handle attached.
It was simply a large ladle. Nearly every family owned a similar small
ladle, which they used in those days for melting lead to make bullets for
hunting purposes. |
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| During the first year of the silver excitement
Duvall would have the different parties who were digging beat up some of
their ore, and he would take his big ladle, go to their houses, and make a
"run" for them. These "runs" were usually made at night. After a hot wood
fire was started Duvall would fill his big ladle with the powdered ore and
place it on the fire. He would then put a flux of soap and borax in the
ladle to "increase the heat" and "help extract the metal." As a general
thing there would be a gathering of neighbors to witness the "run." After
the ore had become red-hot, Duvall would add some "nitric and sulphuric
acid," which would soon disappear, and Duvall would say, "She has done her
do!" He would next carry the ladle out doors, to cool off, and after it
had cooled sufficiently a search would be made for silver. Small shots of
metal would be found and selected out of the ore that had been heated, and
much rejoicing would take place. |
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| The next day digging would be resumed with more
earnestness. After a while the natives tried to extract the silver from
the ore themselves. |
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| The line that, before the formation of
Muhlenberg, separated Logan from Christian and lay within the bounds of
what became Muhlenberg, is described in the act creating Christian County
as follows: "Beginning on Green river, eight miles below the mouth of
Muddy river 1; thence a straight line to one mile west of
Benjamin Hardin's." In other words, this former dividing line ran in a
southwesterly direction from a point on Green River eight miles below the
mouth of Mud River to a point in the neighborhood of what later became the
northwest corner of Todd County. That being the fact, about three fourths
of the original area of Muhlenberg County, or about two thirds of the
present area, was taken from Christian, and the remainder--the
southeastern part of Muhlenberg--was taken from Logan County.Map of
Muhienberg County compiled from six atlas sheets issued by the United
States Geological Survey (1907-1912) |
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| I judge that after the southern line had been
surveyed it was discovered that certain lands originally intended to fall
within the bounds of Muhlenberg were, according to the "calls for running
the county line," not included in the new county. At any rate, on December
4, 1800, the Legislature passed "An act to amend and explain an act,
entitled 'an act for the division of Christian county,' " which I here
quote in full: take a forked stick or small rod, like those used by "water
witches," and "locate" veins of silver as easily as a "water witch" could
locate a vein of water. |
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| I recall a man named Culbertson, who wore
trousers that did not reach his shoetops, and were therefore called
"highwater pants." He carried a small, greasy bag, filled with various
kinds of ores. He used a short hickory stick, split at one end. In order
to find a vein of any particular metal he would place a piece of that kind
of ore in the split end of the stick. With this loaded "metal-rod" he
would walk over the hills and shake it around at arm's length and in every
direction. If the ore that existed in the ground was the same as the ore
in his split rod, then, he claimed, the attraction became so great that it
jerked his arm like a fish. |
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| John Vickers, who lived between Sacramento and
Rumsey, was one of the great water and metal "witches" of his day. He was
elected to the Legislature in 1848, went to California in 1849 when the
gold fever broke out there, but returned to Muhlenberg in the fall of 1851
in time to assist Duvall in trying to convince the people that silver
existed in the region of Jarrell's Creek. He claimed that he had found
many silver veins with the assistance of his rod. He told the people that
one day, while sitting in his house in Sacramento, he located, with his
hickory rod, a rich gold vein in California, and that he had written to
some of his relatives in that State to take possession of it until he
could get there. He said that an abundance of silver undoubtedly existed
in the Muhlenberg hills. His statements added luster and vigor to the
project. |
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| The various "water witches" became expert
"silver witches," and "located" many rich veins throughout the
neighborhood. There were several old women who followed telling fortunes
with coffee-grounds. They also tried their skill on the silver question by
"turning the cup," as they called it. They put some coffee-grounds into a
cup with a little coffee and turned the cup around very rapidly, shook it,
and then turned the cup upside down in the saucer. They would let the
inverted cup remain in that position a few minutes, and then pick it up
and examine the position of the grounds that still adhered to the sides.
From the arrangement of the grounds they could tell whether the prospects
were "clear" or "cloudy." If there was a clear space down the side of the
cup it indicated "good luck" and "go ahead." If the side of the cup was
clouded with grounds it foretold "bad luck" and "look out." |
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| The rod was considered the most reliable way of
determining the presence of silver ore. The "silver witch" in using the
rod could answer questions with a "yes" or "no." The nodding up and down
of the rod was for "yes" and the horizontal movement for "no." There was
great confidence placed in these indications made by the rod. |
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| As a general thing the people in the county had
but little knowledge of mineralogy, metallurgy, or chemistry. Doctor W. H.
Yost was considered the most competent man in Muhlenberg to make a test of
the metal. After an examination he pronounced it tin. Howard Duvall, a
brother of Mark, melted a silver dime and took it to Doctor Yost for
analysis, who declared that it also was tin. The result was that the
prospectors lost faith in Doctor Yost's knowledge of metals. |
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| After Doctor Yost had made his tests it was
thought best by the leaders of the silver enthusiasts to have the ore and
metal analyzed by experienced chemists and mineralogists, for no one
except Mark Duvall had succeeded in getting any metal from the blue
sandstone which had been dug out of Silver Hills. A meeting was held by
parties interested in the project. George W. Short, of Greenville,
together with Duvall, was delegated to take some of the ore and metal that
Duvall claimed to have extracted by the use of his iron ladle and a wood
fire, and go to Cincinnati to an experienced assayer and have both rock
and metal tested. This they did. The chemist stated that the so-called
"silver" was a mixture of metals, and declared that it could not possibly
have come out of the sand rock, for the rock contained no metal of any
kind. Duvall argued that it did. So Short and Duvall left Cincinnati
without any encouragement. Soon after this, Short lost all confidence in
the silver business and withdrew his support and influence. |
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| In spite of this set-back, much interest was
still manifested by many of the owners of the so-called Silver Hills.
Dabney A. Martin, a merchant and tobacconist of Greenville, wanted another
test made. So when he went to Philadelphia after goods he took with him
some of the blue sandstone and the metal that Duvall claimed to have "run"
from the rock, and had them tested by chemists there. They also told him
that the "silver" was a mixture of metals, and that it had not come out of
the rock. In the fall of 1852, when Dabney A. Martin went to Europe on
tobacco business, he took some of the ore and metal to England and had
them analyzed in London. The chemists there likewise reported that the
metal was a mixture and that it had not come out of the sand rock. This
was another damper on the silver excitement. Martin, like Short, lost
confidence in the silver situation. |
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| However, Duvall kept "running" out the metal
with his crucibles and iron ladle. On one occasion Duvall made a big "run"
in an iron kettle over a wood fire. He extracted about five pounds of
"silver." Nevertheless, doubt and distrust increased about Duvall's
sincerity. He was accused of being a fakir and a fraud. After Duvall had
made his five-pound "run," Vickers, who frequently prospected in Silver
Hills, took Duvall's five-pound "run" and some of the blue sandstone
silver ore, saying he would take them to New York and have them assayed
there. Vickers left, but returned in about a month. He reported that the
New York chemist, like all the other professional chemists, pronounced the
"silver" a mixture of metals, and said that it had not come out of the
sand rock. He explained that they rolled the metal into sheets for him.
These he exhibited, and gave to all those who were interested in the
silver question a small sheet of what looked very much like tinfoil, which
it probably was. Vickers left Silver Hills and was never seen in that
neighborhood again. It was afterward claimed that he did not take the
metal and ore any farther than his home in McLean County. |
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| Duvall proposed to the people that if they would
construct a furnace he would show them that he was no fakir. So the
neighbors joined in and built a small furnace near his tanyard. It was
only nine feet high, and therefore a great deal smaller than Buckner's
iron furnace on Pond Creek. When the silver furnace was finished and ready
for action the neighbors gathered to see the silver "run." Duvall was
watched very closely. After the smelter had been in operation two days and
very little metal had been obtained, Duvall declared the furnace had not
been properly constructed. Men who had lost confidence in his work did not
hesitate to tell him so to his face. This resulted in a fight at the
furnace, and the place was abandoned. The stone oven stood for several
years, and was always known as Duvall's Silver Stack. |
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| About the time the furnace was abandoned, Duvall
claimed he had received letters telling him that unless he left the county
he would be killed. Duvall decided it would not be safe for him to remain
in the county, and therefore left. However, he always insisted that the
hills he had explored were full of silver and would be opened up some day.
Just before he moved to Ohio County, he requested three men of the
neighborhood to meet him at a certain place in Silver Hills. After they
met, he led them to the head of a deep hollow and there dug up several
pieces of metal, which he carried back home with him. No questions were
asked by any one of these men, but their eyes were opened; the tale was
told, and the silver excitement was soon over. |
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| The secret of all this silver excitement, which
lasted for about two years, was well planned and manipulated by Mark
Duvall, for what purpose no one can tell, unless it was to sell his
father's land at a high price. |
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| In the early history of the county, pewter
utensils were used for domestic purposes. Pewter bowls, plates, pans,
etc., of the early days had gone out of use at this period. The best
quality of pewter--called also "white metal" --was made of tin hardened
with copper. The cheap grade was made of lead, alloyed with antimony and
bismuth. Duvall had secured some of these old pewter vessels, cut them up,
and hidden them away for use in working the silver trick. Duvall was aware
of the fact that his neighbors knew nothing about ores of any kind. He
made his "silver runs" in his iron ladle on a wood fire, which in itself
was absurd. He made these "silver runs" by dissolving a piece of pewter in
acid. He would pour this solution on the hot crushed rock in the ladle.
The acid would soon be consumed and the metal would remain in the ladle
with the crushed rock, and when cooled off the metal would be formed into
small shot and could be picked out. This would occur no matter what kind
of rock might be used. |
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| Mark Duvall moved to Ohio County, where he
studied medicine and lived to a good old age, but as far as is known he
never "discovered" any silver in that county. |
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E, "Riding the Circuit" By Lucies P.
Little. |
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| Noman in Western Kentucky stands higher as a
citizen, lawyer, or student of literature and history than does Judge
Lucius P. Little. In "Ben Hardin, His Times and Contemporaries," published
in 1887, he wrote one of the best contributions ever printed bearing on
the history of Kentucky from 1784 to 1852. He now has in course of
preparation "Old Stories of Green River and Its People," which will appear
during 1914. I have read the manuscript, and am confident that this book
will take rank as one of the best written and most valuable histories of
any of those concerning any section of the State. Judge Little was born in
Calhoun February 15, 1838. He was graduated from the Law Department of
Cumberland University, Lebanon, Tennessee, in 1857, and in 1868 moved to
Owensboro, where he has since resided and where he has long stood at the
head of his fellow lawyers. From 1880 to 1893 he served as circuit judge.
He is a member of the Investigators' Club (Owensboro's literary and
historical club) and the Kentucky State Historical Society. The following
sketch was written by Judge Little in 1912, especially for this history.
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| "Riding the Circuit." |
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| The custom of the old-time lawyers in Kentucky
of "riding the circuit" was almost coeval with the admission of the State
into the Federal Union, and continued to the end of the fifties. After the
Civil War ended, the increase of the local bar in numbers and in
reputation as practitioners caused the custom gradually to decline. |
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| While the custom was in vogue, on the Sunday
before the beginning of a term of court the presiding judge, usually
accompanied by the prosecuting attorney and a retinue of lawyers more or
less numerous, mounted on horseback, might be seen entering the county
town, destined for the principal tavern, not unlike an unarmed troop of
cavalry. This might fitly be termed the "grand entry," and following it
there quickly gathered about the inn a respectable number of the principal
citizens, to greet the distinguished guests. After the first arrivals
others followed, in parties of twos or threes or one by one. By nightfall
the leading tavern was taxed to its utmost capacity. |
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| The following morning, the first day of the
term, the courthouse bell was rung vigorously at eight o'clock, and
shortly thereafter the high sheriff proclaimed at the front door to the
listening world the thrilling shibboleth, usual on such occasions: "O yez!
O yez! The Circuit Court for Muhlenberg County is now in session! Let all
persons having business therein draw near and be heard! God save the
Commonwealth and this Honorable Court!" (This old preliminary formula has
fallen into disuse, and unfortunately a neglected Deity has not always
saved the Common wealth from the enemies of law and order or protected the
eminent judges who have presided over its courts.) |
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| On entering the court room, all seats inside the
bar are largely found already occupied by the unprivileged classes. The
sheriff, however, gives the peremptory order that all persons not lawyers
and officers of court are requested to retire from the bar, which mandate
is quickly obeyed. Persons summoned as jurors and others (ready to be
summoned) seek seats in easy earshot of any call of their names. Parties,
witnesses, and mere lookers-on soon fill all remaining seats. |
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| The judge has already taken what in legal
parlance is "the bench," but which in reality is an easy chair behind a
desk, which to the unsophistieated is strikingly like a pulpit. The clerk,
sheriff, and jailer betake themseives to their respective posts and to the
discharge of their several functions. At last the honorable court is
opened in due form, and those having business therein draw near and (as
opportunity offers) proceed to make themselves heard. |
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| The particular term of court now to be mentioned
occurred in the year 1859, when Honorable Thomas C. Dabney was judge of
the district and Ed Campbell prosecuting attorney. The resident attorneys
at that time were Charles Eaves, Jonathan Short, Joseph Ricketts, John
Chapeze, B. E. Pittman, Edward R. Weir, sr., and Mortimer D. Hay. At the
head of this roll, by extent of practice, long experience, and profound
learning, easily stood Charles Eaves, then in the full vigor of manhood.
The youngest member, familiarly called "Mort" Hay, was tall and slender,
with a quick and bright mind, already giving assurance of the talents and
ability for which he was subsequently distinguished in a career terminated
by an untimely death. The visiting lawyers that term were Honorable B. L.
D. Guffy, of Morgantown, who was later to occupy a seat on the Court of
Appeals bench; Washington Ewing, of Russellville, sprung of a family
distinguished for its talents; H. G. Petree, Samuel Kennedy, and Francis
Bristow, from Elkton--and sometimes came also the latter's son Benjamin,
physically strong and burly and of striking appearance, but not so widely
distinguished then as to cause the subsequent inquiry, "Is there not good
presidential timber produced in Elkton?" From the Daviess County bar
answered John H. McHenry, sr., and William Anthony, both names very
familiar in the region at that day. McLean County was also represented by
two young lawyers who, having some business in court that term, were in
attendance. One of these was the late William T. Owen, afterward for two
terms circuit judge of his district. Each of these had secured two of
Culver's best rigs for the trip--not, as it may be well to explain, that
they necessarily required two separate conveyances for the thirty miles
from Calhoun to Greenville, but because each had had the good fortune to
secure as comrade for the journey two of the prettiest girls of that town.
It is recalled that, on the bright day they fared forth, the two young
gentlemen were arrayed in the height of the fashion of that time, but so
clad that they would be a sight to the beholders in these later days.
Picture them! Long hair, silk hats, swallow-tail coats, low-cut vests,
close-fitting trousers, and low-quarter shoes, with white hose! Neither in
that day nor at any time since, in Kentucky, has there ever been any
discount on a pretty girl because of her raiment, but on this day these
were charmingly gowned. |
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| The weather was faultless, and the long, hot
lanes were fewer than now. For the most part the road on either side was
bordered by woodland, the scenery and fragrance of which would beggar the
language that might attempt to describe it. It is better to forget the
exquisite pleasure of such bright days in the dim light of the somberer
and quieter ones that came later. The road, at one point, wound by a
clearing where the timber had been cut away and the brush placed in piles
for burning later. There an incident occurred worthy of note. A
blacksnake, technically known as a "racer," six to seven feet in length,
was discovered in the road by Owen, who was in advance. His fair companion
expressed some girlish alarm, whereupon with becoming gallantry he leaped
from the buggy and with whip in hand lashed the "racer" as he fled out
through the clearing. After a chase of seventy-five yards the snake hid
himself in a brush-pile, and Owen, exhilarated by the exercise, started to
return. The snake, encouraged by the retreat of his pursuer, came forth,
and with head erect nearly two feet made a good second on the return,
although the young man did his best. Turning on the snake again and
hitting him whenever in reach, the race out through the clearing was
repeated, and the snake again sought refuge and again chased his pursuer.
This performance was kept up without variation until four or five heats
had been run. Meantime his traveling companion--secure from danger in the
buggy--and the occupants of the other vehicle, had laughed and wept and
laughed again. But Owen got excessively warm and was fairly outwinded,
while the "racer" showed a discouraging degree of "bottom." By finally
crawling into his buggy backwards, meanwhile demonstrating with his whip,
he managed to terminate the unequal contest. Docet hic fabula if a beau
wishes to show his mettle before the fair, he should beware of contests
with "racers." |
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| In the soft twilight of the day the journey
ended. Having left their traveling companions with expectant friends, the
attorneys found lodging at Captain Bob Russell's somewhat overcrowded
hotel. The landlord was a large, portly man of fine presence, quite as
dignified as any of his distinguished guests, with all of whom he
maintained an easy familiarity. He carried a stout walking-cane as he
mingled with his lodgers, discharging the duties of hospitality. His
colloquial abilities were above the common, and he was not at loss
whatever the topie. His stores of incident and anecdote were
inexhaustible, and he gave his friends little opportunity for considering
whether the accommodations of the house might not be amended in certain
directions. He had honorably served his country in war and in peace in
former years, and was still a valuable man in that quarter to the
political party with which he affiliated. |
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| The hotel building stood near the courthouse. It
was a low, two-storied affair, with a few bed-chambers and these in the
second story, but each large enough for three or four beds, and each bed
was designed to accommodate two persons. The writer recalls that when he
awoke at about four o'clock the first morning of his stay in Greenville,
he beheld a large, fleshy, elderly man engaged in shaving a large area of
fleshy face as with closed eyes he sat ponderously in a chair. (This was
before the era of safety razors.) |
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| "Mr. McHenry, how can you shave without a
mirror?" inquired the freshly awakened young lawyer. |
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| "I am not in the habit of using a mirror, and
can shave just as readily without one," was the answer. |
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| It was fortunate in his case, as our room in
this respect was unfurnished, and the single candle in the bedroom
shedding a radiance somewhat uncertain. It was also a provident
arrangement of nature that morning that all the occupants of our chamber
did not care to arise and dress at the same time; that operation was
performed in detachments. The limited floor space forbade any other
course. There was no ceiling or plaster beneath, and because of this the
landlord was enabled with his cane to knock on our floor from time to
time, as a warning that breakfast was about ready. All embarrassments were
happily overcome, the morning meal dispatched, and the gentlemen of the
bar were ready in due time for the opening of court. |
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| One of the important cases to be tried was that
of Arch Rutherford, charged with the murder of a man named Stark, in Todd
County. After being indicted in Todd the defendant had procured a change
of venue to Muhlenberg. The evidence in the case was circumstantial, and
while the circumstances had been comparatively few they had been
sufficient to lead to the conclusion on the part of the public
generally-that the accused was the guilty man, and that his motive had
been robbery. A twenty-dollar bill which had been paid to Stark the day
before the murder (which had occurred at night) was marked. It was found
in possession of Rutherford and identified by the man who had paid it to
Stark. The accused owned and was accustomed to ride a horse which, in
motion, made a peculiar noise known as "rattling of the sheath." It was in
proof at the trial that a horse making this peculiar noise was heard, on
the night of the murder, to pass through the town of Elkton from
Rutherford's residence, going in the direction of the place where Stark
resided, and also that a short time afterward the horse was heard
returning going toward defendant's residence. It was also made to appear
that, in passing and repassing through town, the horse had been ridden in
a gallop, and that next day he showed signs of having been recently hard
ridden. |
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| Honorable Francis Bristow was chief counsel for
the accused. Mr. Campbell conducted the prosecution. The jury that tried
the case returned a verdict of guilty, and sentence of death was
pronounced. An appeal was prosecuted, and the judgment was reversed in the
Court of Appeals and the case remanded for a new trial. While awaiting
another trial the prisoner escaped from jail and was never afterward
apprehended. Tradition has it that he fled to Texas, and during a long
residence in that State accumulated considerable property and that he died
there, but the date of his death is unknown. |
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| At the same term there was also pending a case
against S. P. Love, charged with killing Wesley M. Little at South
Carrollton on August 16, 1857. The circumstances of the killing were that
Love and Little, both residing in South Carrollton, became embroiled in a
personal difficulty growing out of polities. Little kept a hotel in the
town and was an active local politician. In a public speech he had
denounced a statement made by Love as untrue. Early one Sunday morning,
shortly afterward, Little, while standing alone in front of his hotel, was
instantly killed by a shot in the back, fired by some one in concealment
in the second story of a house across the street. Love was arrested and
indicted for murder. At the autumn term of 1859 the case was tried, but
the jury failed to agree. It was afterward continued from term to term
until the outbreak of the Civil War. Love, meantime, joined the Federal
army and during the war underwent final trial, which resulted in his
acquittal. |
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| Over half a century has gone by since the term
of court herein referred to. More pages have been written in American
history in that interval than in all the preceding years since Columbus
first laid longing eyes on the palm trees of the West Indian island. In
very truth old times have passed away, and behold all things are become
new. |
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| To one who saw Greenville and its people then,
there are many things he would miss if he looked for them now. The portly
and dignified landlord of Russell's Tavern has long slept in the silent
grave. The small, old-fashioned courthouse has been supplanted by a
stately edifice, the architectural graces of which entitle it to be called
the Temple of Justice. The gentle Dabney has long since ceased to preside
there, but has without fear answered the call of another Judge. Campbell,
the prosecutor, is no longer a terror to evildoers, but has received the
reward due a just man, and has claimed his right to be heard by that
merciful Advocate who pleads for us all. Charles Eaves, when he left this
world, took from it a store of legal knowledge possessed but rarely by any
lawyer of his day and generation. The amiable, kind-hearted Guffy went
through life doing his duty, dispensing good cheer among his friends, and
finally meekly bowed his head to the fate that awaits us all. Owen, after
marrying the pretty girl who had laughed so merrily at him in his contest
with the "racer," rounded out an honorable career, and at its end he and
she sleep well the last long sleep. Indeed, all the names here mentioned
have long been numbered with the silent hosts who now rest in eternal
peace. |
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