THE "WALKING-BEAM BOY."
BY L. E. STOFIEL
In 1836 the steam-whistle had not yet been introduced on the boats ofthe western rivers. Upon approaching towns and cities in those days,vessels resorted to all manner of schemes and contrivances to attractattention. They were compelled to do so in order to secure their shareof freight and passengers, so spirited was the competition betweensteamboats from 1836 to 1840. There were no railroads in the West(indeed there were but one or two in the East), and all traffic was bywater. Consequently steamboat-men had all they could do to handle thecrowds of passengers and the tons of merchandise offered them.
Shippers and passengers had their favorite packets. The former hadtheir huge piles of freight stacked upon the wharves, and needed theearliest possible intelligence of the approach of the packet so thatthey might promptly summon clerks and carriers to the shore. Thepassengers, loitering in neighboring hotels, demanded some system ofwarning of a favorite steamer's coming, that they might avoid thedisagreeable alternative of pacing the muddy levees for hours at a time,or running the risk of being left behind.
Without a whistle, how was a boat to let the people know it was coming,especially if some of those sharp bends for which the Ohio River isfamous intervened to deaden the splashing stroke of its hugepaddle-wheels, or the regular puff, puff, puff, puff, of its steamexhaust-pipes?
The necessity originated several crude signs, chief among which was thenoise created by a sudden escapement of steam either from the rarelyused boiler waste-pipes close to the surface of the river, or throughthe safety-valve above. By letting the steam thus rush out at differentpressures, each boat acquired a sound peculiarly its own, which could beheard a considerable distance, though it was as the tone of amouth-organ against a brass-band, when compared with the ear-splittingroar of our modern steamboat-whistle. Townspeople of Cincinnati andelsewhere became so proficient in distinguishing these sounds of steamescapement that they could foretell the name of any craft on the riverat night or before it appeared in sight.
It was reserved for the steamboat _Champion_ to carry this idea a littlefurther. It purposed to catch the eye of the patron as well as his ear.The _Champion_ was one of the best known vessels plying on theMississippi in 1836. It was propelled by a walking-beam engine. Thisstyle of steam-engine is still common on tide-water boats of the East,but has long since disappeared from the inland navigation of the West.To successfully steam a vessel up those streams against the remarkablyswift currents, high-pressure engines had to be adopted generally. Inthat year, however, there were still a number of boats on theMississippi and Ohio which, like the _Champion_, had low-pressureengines and the grotesque walking-beams.
One day it was discovered that the _Champion's_ escapement-tubes werebroken, and no signal could be given to a landing-place not far ahead.A rival steamboat was just a little in advance, and bade fair to capturethe large amount of freight known to be at the landing.
"I'll make them see us, sir!" cried a bright boy, who seemed to be aboutfourteen years old. He stood on the deck close to where the captain wasbewailing his misfortune.
Without another word, the lad climbed up over the roof of theforecastle, and, fearlessly catching hold of the end of the walking-beamwhen it inclined toward him with the next oscillation of the engine,swung himself lithely on top of the machinery. It was with somedifficulty that he maintained his balance, but he succeeded in stickingthere for fifteen minutes. He had taken off his coat, and he wasswinging it to and fro.
The plan succeeded. Although the other boat beat the _Champion_ intoport, the crowd there had seen the odd spectacle of a person mounted onthe walking-beam of the second vessel, and, wondering over the cause,paid no attention to the landing of the first boat, but awaited thearrival of the other.
The incident gave the master of the _Champion_ an idea. He took the boyas a permanent member of the crew, and assigned him to the post of"walking-beam boy," buying for him a large and beautiful flag. Everafterward, when within a mile of any town, the daring lad was to be seenclimbing up to his difficult perch, pausing on the roof of theforecastle to get his flag from a box that had been built there for it.By and by he made his lofty position easier and more picturesque bystraddling the walking-beam, well down toward the end, just as he wouldhave sat upon a horse.
This made a pretty spectacle for those upon shore who awaited the boat'sarrival. They saw a boy bounding up and down with the great seesawingbeam. For a second he would sink from view, but up he bobbed suddenly,and, like a clear-cut silhouette, he waved the Stars and Stripes high inthe air with only the vast expanse of sky for a background. The visionwas only for an instant, for both flag and boy would disappear, and--upagain they came, before the spectator's eye could change to anotherdirection! This sight was novel--it was thrilling!
"I used to think if I could ever be in that young fellow's place, Iwould be the biggest man on earth," remarked a veteran river-man. Likethousands of others along the Mississippi and Ohio, he remembered thatwhen a child he could recognize the _Champion_ a mile distant by thisunique signal.
"HE WAVED THE STARS AND STRIPES HIGH IN THE AIR."]
After a while, though, other steamboats operating low-pressure enginescopied the idea, and there were several "walking-beam boys" employed onthe rivers, and their flags were remodeled to have some distinctivefeature each. It was a perilous situation to be employed in, but I amunable to find the record of any "walking-beam boy" being killed orinjured in the machinery. On the other hand, the very hazard of theirduty, and the conspicuous position it gave them, made them popular withpassengers and shippers, and so they pocketed many fees fromKentuckians, confections from Cincinnati folks, bonbons from New OrleansCreoles, and tips from Pittsburgers.
But at length, in 1844, the steam-whistle was introduced, and the"walking-beam boys" were left without occupation.