CHAPTER I.

"Breaking Up."--Grotesque Parading down River.--Rum and Intemperance. --Religious Rites profaned.--River-driving on Temperance Principles. --The first Experiment.--A spiritual Song.

Having completed our winter's work in hauling logs, another period commences in the chain of operations, "breaking up," moving down river, and making preparations for "river-driving."

The time for breaking up is determined by various circumstances; sometimes an early spring, warm rains, and thawing days render the snow roads impassable for further log hauling. In other cases, when it is the intention to take the teams down river, where lakes and rivers are to be crossed on the route, it is necessary to start before the ice becomes too weak to bear up the oxen. Sometimes scarcity of timber renders an early removal necessary, while in those instances where it is concluded to turn the oxen out to shift for themselves, on browse and meadow grass, we haul as long as it can be done, esteeming every log hauled under such circumstances clear gain.

Breaking up is rather a joyful occasion than otherwise, though camp life, as a whole, is very agreeable. Change is something which so well accords with the demands of our nature, that in most cases, when it occurs, its effects are most exhilarating. Under such circumstances, after three or four months spent in the wild woods, away from home, friends, and society, the anticipation of a renewed participation in the relations of life, in town and country, creates much buoyancy of feeling. All is good nature; every thing seems strangely imbued with power to please, to raise a joke, or excite a laugh.

Whatever of value there may be about the premises not necessary for the driving operation, is loaded upon the long sled; the oxen being attached, the procession moves slowly from the scene of winter exploits, "homeward bound," leaving, however, a portion of the crew to make the necessary preparations for river-driving.

After several days' travel, the neighborhood of home is reached; but, before the arrival in town, some little preparations are made by the hands for a triumphant entrée. Accordingly, colors are displayed from tall poles fastened to the sled, and sometimes, also, to the yoke of the oxen, made of handkerchiefs, with streaming pennants floating on the wind, or of strips of red flannel, the remains of a shirt of the same material, while the hats are decorated with liberal strips of ribbon of the same material, and waists sashed with red comforters; their beards being such as a Mohammedan might swear by. Thus attired, they parade the town with all the pomp of a modern caravan. The arrival of a company of these teams, ten or a dozen in number, sometimes amounting to forty or fifty oxen, and nearly as many men, creates no little interest in those thriving towns on the river which owe their existence, growth, and prosperity to the toils and hardships of these same hardy loggers. Each team is an object of special interest and criticism; and, according to the "condition" of flesh they are found in, so is the praise or discredit of the teamster in command, always making the amount of labor performed and the quality of the keeping furnished an accompanying criterion of judgment. This voluntary review, to the knight of the goad, is fraught with interest, as by the decisions of this review he either maintains, advances, or recedes from his former standing in the profession, and thus it affects not only his pride, but also his purse, as a teamster of repute commands the highest rate of wages.

Some twenty years since, these arrivals, and also those of the river-drivers, were characterized by a free indulgence in spirituous liquors, and many drunken carousals. Grog-shops were numerous, and the dominion of King Alcohol undisputed by the masses. Liquor flowed as freely as the waters which bore their logs to the mills. Hogsheads of rum were drunk or wasted in the course of a few hours on some occasions, and excessive indulgence was the almost daily practice of the majority, even from the time of their arrival in the spring until the commencement of another winter's campaign. I speak now more particularly of employees, though I calculate, as a Southerner would say, that many of the employers in those days had experience enough to tell good West India from New England rum.

"In 1832, in a population not exceeding four hundred and fifty or five hundred, on the St. Croix, three thousand five hundred gallons of ardent spirits were consumed." A distinguished lumberman, whose opinion is above quoted, remarks further, "So strong was the conviction that men could not work in the water without 'spirits,' that I had great difficulty in employing the first crew of men to drive on the river on temperance principles. When I made known my purpose to employ such a gang of men, the answer almost invariably was, 'You may _try_, but, depend upon it, the drive will never come down.' But old men, who had been spurred on to exertion for thirty years by ardent spirits, were forced to acknowledge, when they came down river, that they had never succeeded so well before; and learned, at that late period, that the cause of their stiff joints and premature old age was not wholly on account of exposure to the cold and work in the water, but the result of strong drink."

It would be difficult to give an exaggerated sketch of the drunken practices among loggers twenty-five years ago. I recollect that matters were carried so far at Milltown, that the loggers would arrest passers-by, take them by force, bring them into the toll-house grog-shop, and baptize them by pouring a quart of rum over their heads.

Distinctions of grade were lost sight of, and the office of deacon or priest constituted no exemption "pass" against the ordeal, rather the rite profaned. This process of ablution was practiced with such zeal upon their own craft and transient passers-by, that a hogshead of rum was drawn in a short time, running in brooks over the floor. The affair was conducted amid the most boisterous and immoderate merriment--the more distinguished the candidate, the more hearty the fun.

But a change has come over, not the spirit of their dreams, but their practices and estimate of such excesses. I doubt whether any portion of society, or class of men whose intemperate habits were so excessive, and whose excuses, at least for a moderate use of liquor, were so reasonable, can be found where the principles of total abstinence have wrought so thorough and complete a change. Not that the evil is wholly eradicated, for many still continue its use. But it has now been fully demonstrated that men can endure the chilling hardships of river-driving quite as well, and, indeed, far better, without the stimulus of ardent spirits, and perform more and better-directed labor.

At the time alluded to, however, more prominence was given to rum as a necessary part of the supplies than to almost any other article. "The first and most important article," says Mr. Todd, of St. Stephen's, N. B., "in all our movements, from the stump in the swamp to the ship's hold, was _Rum_! RUM!" To show how truly this one idea ran through the minds of the loggers, I present the following original rum song, illustrating the "spirit of the times," and of the log swamp muse.

"'Tis when we do go into the woods, Drink round, brave boys! drink round, brave boys! 'Tis when we do go into the woods, Jolly brave boys are we; 'Tis when we do go into the woods, We look for timber, and that which is good, Heigh Ho! drink round, brave boys, And jolly brave boys are we.

Now when the choppers begin to chop, Drink round, &c., When the choppers begin to chop, Jolly brave boys, &c.; And when the choppers begin to chop, They take the sound and leave the rot, Heigh ho! drink round, &c., And jolly brave boys, &c.

And when the swampers begin to clear, Drink round, &c., And when the swampers begin to clear, Jolly brave boys, &c.; And when the swampers begin to clear, They show the teamster where to steer, Heigh ho! drink round, &c., And jolly brave boys, &c.

And when we get them on to the sled, Drink round, &c., And when we get them on to the sled, Jolly brave boys, &c.; And when we get them on to the sled, 'Haw! back, Bright!' it goes ahead, Heigh ho! drink round, &c., And jolly brave boys, &c.

Then, when we get them on to the stream, Drink round, &c., Then, when we get them on to the stream, Jolly brave boys, &c.; So, when we get them on to the stream, We'll knock out the fid and roll them in, Heigh ho! drink round, &c., Jolly brave boys, &c.

And when we get them down to the boom, Drink round, &c., And when we get them down to the boom, Jolly brave boys, &c.; And when we get them down to the boom, We'll call at the tavern for brandy and rum, Heigh ho! drink round, &c., Jolly brave boys, &c.

So when we get them down to the mill, 'Tis drink round, &c., So when we get them down to the mill, Jolly brave boys, &c.; And when we get them down to the mill, We'll call for the liquor and drink our fill, Heigh ho! drink, &c., Jolly brave boys, &c.

The _merchant_ he takes us by the hand, Drink round, brave boys! drink round, brave boys! The merchant he takes us by the hand, And '_jolly brave boys are we_;' The merchant he takes us by the hand, Saying, 'Sirs, I have _goods_ at your command;' But heigh ho! drink round, brave boys, The _money_ will foot up a 'spree.'"