Old Taverns and Tavern Keepers continued—Big Crossings to Mt. Washington—Old Shellbark, Jacob Probasco, Jockey Hollow, Old Tom Brown, Mt. Augusta, Marlow’s, the Three Cabins, McCollough’s—A Fugitive Slave Tragedy—A Sermon cut short by the Baying of Hounds—Charley Rush—The Sheep’s Ear—the Bull’s Head, the Old Inks House, Nick McCartney, Boss Rush, Samuel Frazer, John Rush.

The first old tavern west of the “Big Crossings,” and the first in Fayette county, Pa. (for the river here is the boundary line between the counties of Fayette and Somerset), is that which for many years was kept by Peter Lenhart, commonly known as “Shellbark.” This is a two-story house, originally built with logs, but subsequently weather-boarded and painted red. The red, however, has long since disappeared, and it now wears the dingy, dark colored hue that settles upon all ancient buildings. A man named Ebert built this house and occupied it as a private residence. He was a tanner by trade, and a justice of the peace. He sold out to Peter Lenhart’s father, who occupied the house also as a private residence until his death, when his son Peter succeeded him and opened up the house as a tavern, and soon after added a distillery. The house had a good custom and “Shellbark” was prosperous. He was an eccentric man, and like Orator Puff, had two tones to his voice. He had a habit, upon rising every morning, of cutting a large slice from a loaf of bread, spreading it with butter, and eating it in connection with a glass of whiskey. He enjoyed this matutinal habit for many years, and rarely omitted it. Why he was called “Shellbark” is not accurately known. He was in early life an old-line Democrat, but in later years got “mixed up,” and seemed to have lost his political moorings. He died a few years ago, and his widow and daughter remain in the old house, occasionally entertaining strangers and travelers in very satisfactory style.

The next old tavern stand is about half a mile from Lenhart’s, on the south side of the road. The line of the National Road here is the same as that of the old Braddock road, and this house was kept as a tavern by Andrew Flenniken, before the National Road was constructed. Jacob Probasco succeeded Flenniken in this house. Besides keeping a tavern, Probasco had teams on the road, was a contractor for repairs, operated a store, put up and operated a grist and saw mill, and engaged in many other enterprises. One of his contracts was for taking up a portion of the old road bed. At first, as elsewhere noted, the road was paved with large boulders, which were subsequently taken up and their places supplied by stones broken into small pieces. There are points along the road where the old bed remains, and here the road is in better condition than elsewhere, which has started the belief that it was a mistake to take up the original bed; but this is a disputed and unsettled question. Prominent among those who thought it was a mistake to take up the original road bed was Capt. Thomas Endsley, the old tavern keeper of Somerfield. He argued the question on many occasions with the engineers, and after the work was done adhered to his opinion, and characterized the plan as a foolish notion of inexperienced young cadets. Probasco got into trouble in attempting to collect a claim by attachment, was indicted for perjury, and soon after left the State, settling in Ohio, and there became prominent and wealthy. It was a relative, probably a son of Jacob Probasco, who donated the money for the erection of the celebrated fountains in the city of Cincinnati. Probasco sold out to Peter Baker, who kept the house a number of years, and he was succeeded in turn by John Irvin, Jacob Richards, Charles Kemp, Aaron Wyatt, Morris Mauler, Aden Clary and Alexander Speers. It was a stage house, and passengers by one of the coach lines took meals there. John Conway now occupies the property, and it is owned by Aden Clary, of Frostburg, Maryland. The house is long and narrow, made up of different structures erected at different times, one part stone, another log, and a third frame, all now, and for a long time heretofore, joined together and enclosed by weather-boarding. The intervening space between this and the Youghiogheny river is called “Jockey Hollow,” a level piece of road upon which horses were run and cock-fighting practiced. Hence the name Jockey Hollow. Ephraim Vansickle, “Blind Eph,” as he was called, kept a tavern many years in an old log house in Jockey Hollow, and did a good business. This house was never kept as a tavern by any other person than Vansickle. He subsequently kept a tavern in Somerfield. Nicholas Bradley, who died a few years ago, was an old denizen of Jockey Hollow. He was a contractor on the original construction of the road, and as his name implies, an Irishman. His son, Daniel, still lives here, an active business man and an influential Democratic politician. [I]Jeremiah Easter, esq., Democratic Jury Commissioner, also lives here. John Conway once kept a tavern in the “bend of the road” near the foot of the hill, about half a mile west of Jockey Hollow. This house was a log structure, long since demolished, and a small frame now stands on the old site. John Conway was Daniel Bradley’s grandfather, long since dead, and therefore not the man at present occupying the old Probasco tavern.

Next is the old tavern of Thomas Brown. This is a large stone house, built by Mr. Brown about the time the road was made. It stands on the south side of the road. Brown kept it as a tavern from the time it was built until the time of his death. Col. Ben Brownfield and Gen. Henry W. Beeson were wont to come here on their sleighing excursions in the olden time, often remaining many nights and days enjoying themselves in dancing and feasting. Brown was a good fiddler, and furnished his guests with music, as well as other means of entertainment. He was a large man with a shrill voice, and considered a popular landlord. The property remained in the Brown family a few years after the death of the old proprietor, and ultimately fell into the hands of Jacob Umberson, the present occupant. The elections of Henry Clay township were formerly held at this house, and many exciting scenes have been witnessed here on election day.

The next old tavern site is Mt. Augusta. (Site is used because the old brick tavern house that stood here for so many years was burned down some time ago, and has not been rebuilt.) It was one of the largest and most commodious houses on the road, with two large water troughs and extensive stabling among the appurtenances. In the palmy days of the road it did a large business. John Collier was the original owner and occupant of this property. At his death it fell into the hands of his son, Daniel, who kept it for a number of years and sold out to Thomas Brownfield. Brownfield kept tavern here for thirty years, and sold out to John O’Hegarty, the present owner and occupant. Daniel Collier moved from here to Georges township, where he died a few years ago, the owner of a large estate. Brownfield became successively commissioner and sheriff of Fayette county, Pennsylvania, and at the close of his term as sheriff removed to the State of Missouri, where he died. The sale of this property by Brownfield to O’Hegarty, was effected through the agency of the celebrated Henry Clay Dean. O’Hegarty lived in Lebanon county, Pennsylvania, when he became the purchaser. The old tavern house was burnt during the occupancy of Mr. O’Hegarty. After the fire he moved into a frame tenant house, on the opposite side of the road, a little to the east, where he lives now. He is an acting justice of the peace, esteemed for his honesty and probity, and wields great influence among his neighbors.

Next is a stone house on the south side of the road, first kept as a tavern by William Shaw, and afterward by William Griffin, Charles Kemp, Isaac Denny and William A. Stone, in the order given. It did a good business, and was regarded as a good house.

Next comes the old Marlow House. This is a large two-story brick building, near the summit of a long hill. On the opposite side of the road a large stable was erected, capable of sheltering a hundred horses, and now in a decaying condition. The indispensable water-trough was here also. This house was built and kept as a tavern by Benjamin Miller, the grandfather of Ben, Jeff and Sam Miller, of Uniontown. Miller sold the property to James Marlow. Marlow kept it a long time, and died in it. At the time of his death he was superintendent of the road. He was a short, heavy set, quiet man, and came from Maryland. He had several sons, all of whom went west many years ago, and one of them is now the proprietor of the “American hotel,” in the city of Denver. Benjamin Miller was once a candidate for the Legislature, and pending his canvass declared, “By the Eternal, if the people did not elect him he would go up on the hill overlooking Harrisburg, and look down with contempt upon the Capitol.” He was not elected.

At the foot of the hill, below the Marlow House, stood, in the olden time, a cluster of small log cabins, three in number, which constituted a tavern stand known as the “Bush House,” or “Three Cabins.” This quaint old tavern was kept by one Leonard Clark, who entertained a great many strangers and travelers, especially such as were in quest of something to slake their thirst. Its best business days were during the time the road was undergoing construction, and upon its completion the “Three Cabins” succumbed to more pretentious inns. These cabins were covered with clap-boards; the chimneys built of rough stones, and “topped out” with mud and sticks. Clark, the old proprietor, retired from public life soon after the completion of the road, went west, left his cabins to the tender mercies of the elements, and scarcely a trace of them can be seen at this day. That jolly times occurred at this old tavern, among the early pike boys, there can be no question.

The next house is a two-story stone building with portico in front, known in recent years as the “Old McCollough Stand.” It was built and first kept as a tavern by a man named Bryant. James Sampey, Isaac Nixon, Morris Mauler and Nicholas McCartney, each kept this house for shorter or longer terms before McCollough went into it. Col. John W. McCollough, who became the owner of the property, kept tavern here for many years, and died the proprietor. He was a man of stalwart size, a talking man and a politician. He was likewise a contractor, and did much work on the road. He left a widow and several children. [J]Jim and Nick, two of his sons, are well known pike boys. His [K]widow married ’Squire Burke, who now occupies the house, and there is no place on the road where a better meal can be obtained. A tragedy was enacted at this house which forms a memorable event in the history of the old pike, and served as a good text for the old anti-slavery agitators. It was on the 4th of July, 1845. Early in the morning of that day, while a number of wagoners were engaged in feeding and cleaning their teams, as they stood in the wagon yard, a negro passed along the road, and William King, one of the wagoners aforesaid, cried out in a loud voice to Nicholas McCartney, who was then keeping the house, “There goes a runaway nigger.” “Are you sure of that?” inquired McCartney. “I am,” replied King, whereupon McCartney darted after the negro and captured him a short distance south of the house, the rocks and brush in that locality having impeded the progress of the fugitive. McCartney led him into the house, and informed him that he was going to take him back to his master in Maryland. The negro seemed submissive, and McCartney placed him in charge of one Atwell Holland, his brother-in-law, while he went for a horse to carry out his purpose of taking him back to Maryland. During McCartney’s absence the negro ran out of the house, and Atwell and others pursued him. Atwell being more fleet than any of the other pursuers, soon overtook the negro, whereupon he wheeled upon Holland, drew a dirk knife from his pocket, struck it into his pursuer’s heart, and made good his escape. Holland immediately fell to the ground, and expired while being borne to the house by his companions. Among the persons present on this tragic occasion, was one Lewis Mitchell, who was a great hunter and an occasional preacher. While Holland was lying on the ground dying, Mitchell placed wild grape leaves on his wound, and prayed for him. Mitchell was preaching once in this neighborhood, and in one of his most earnest passages, heard the yelping of hounds. He immediately ceased preaching, and exclaimed, “There are the hounds, and d—d if Lead ain’t ahead,” and straightway dashed out of the meeting house to join the sportsmen.

The next old tavern is about four hundred yards from the last one, and was also built by Bryant, above mentioned, but not for a tavern. This house was kept successively by John McCollough, Morris Mauler and Adam Yeast, and is now kept by [L]Nick McCollough. There were times when it had a “good run” of patronage. Adam Yeast, one of its old occupants, was an eccentric character, and ultimately became a lunatic.

Next we come to Charley Rush’s old stand. This was a famous stopping place. Charles Rush settled here in the woods in 1838, built the house, which he occupied as a tavern until he died in 1846, in the prime of life. He always kept a big team on the road, under the management of a hired driver. He was a brother of Boss Rush, and the father of Henry Clay Rush, a prominent and influential citizen of Uniontown. He was fond of horse racing, and always kept fast horses. His son Henry Clay was his favorite rider, who, when a small boy, appeared on the race course arrayed in the jockey outfit, and exactly filling the regulation weight. He would cut a sorry figure now, on the back of a race horse. Charles Rush was kind and charitable in disposition, but when exigencies required, would not decline a fisticuff. Many an overbearing bully has felt the damaging effects of his well-aimed blows. He entertained strangers and travelers at his hospitable board, whether they had the means of paying their bills or not, but always preferred that impecunious guests should inform him of their condition before engaging accommodations. On one occasion an Irishman tarried with him over night, and in the morning, after breakfast, informed him that he had no money to pay his bill. “Why didn’t you tell me that last night?” sharply inquired Mr. Rush. “And faith, sir,” replied the Irishman, “I’m very sorry to tell you of it this morning.” Rush, pleased with his wit, absolved him from his bill, gave him a parting drink, and allowed him to go “Scot free.” [N]William L. Smith, esq., ex-county commissioner, married the widow Rush, and occupies the old stand as a private residence. Samuel Rush, a farmer, and brother of Charles, lived about three miles from here, back in the country. He was a contractor on the road, and an energetic, honest and highly respected citizen. He was the father of [N]Marker Rush, the proprietor of the well known “Rush House,” near the Union Depot, in Pittsburg. Marker must have inherited his fondness for the sports of the day through his uncle Charles, as his father was not given to worldly indulgences.

There was a little log house a short distance west of Charley Rush’s old stand, which was kept as a tavern for a few years by Edward Dean. It was not one of the original taverns, and not considered “regular.” The pike boys of the neighborhood called it the “Sheep’s Ear.” Its chief business consisted in selling whisky at three cents a drink, which was the price of whisky all along the road. F. H. Oliphant, the well known iron manufacturer, probably the oldest in the State, once put a line of wagons on the road to carry goods and merchandise from Brownsville to Cumberland. The wagons were drawn by mules, and the teams changed at fixed points along the road. This old Dean House was one of the stopping places of this line. One night some mischievous person, or persons, cut the harness of one of the teams into shreds, so that Oliphant’s line did not move out the next morning from the “Sheep’s Ear.” Another house of similar proportions and character near by, was kept by Thomas Dean. It was known in the neighborhood as the “Bull’s Head.” It was the custom of the pike boys of the neighborhood to collect together in these old houses, when they were kept as taverns, now at one and then at the other, to “while away” the long winter evenings, and enjoy themselves in dancing and revelry. Nicholas McCartney often attended these festive gatherings when a young man, and could relate many interesting incidents and anecdotes connected with the “Sheep’s Ear” and “Bull’s Head” inns.

We next come to the old Inks House, now owned and occupied by Nicholas McCartney. This is a large frame, weather-boarded house, with a spacious wagon yard attached, a large stable and a number of sheds and other outbuildings. The house was built by George Inks, and kept by him as a tavern for many years. A man named Heckrote kept here once, and so also did John Risler, and Samuel M. Clement, for many years a prosperous farmer on Redstone creek, near Uniontown, entertained the traveling public for a brief period, in his early manhood, and proved himself a competent landlord. The house enjoyed a large share of patronage during the prosperous times on the road. [O]Mr. McCartney, present occupant and owner, has been in feeble health for many months. Previous to his present illness he was a man of robust health and great energy. He is a son-in-law of Thomas Brownfield, the old proprietor of the Mt. Augusta House. He is universally esteemed among his neighbors, and general sympathy is manifested on account of his illness.

We next reach the celebrated house of [P]Sebastian Rush, invariably called “Boss.” It is not a wagon stand, but an old stage house. Here stage passengers took meals, which were invariably gotten up in the best style. The house was built in 1837 by Hon. Nathaniel Ewing, who then owned it. Rush moved into it soon after it was finished, as lessee of Judge Ewing, and not long after purchased it, and occupied it uninterruptedly to the present time. Here, also, is a store, postoffice and other improvements, constituting a little village called Farmington, and considered the grand commercial and business center of the mountains. Sebastian Rush is widely known as an influential Republican politician, has been superintendent of the road by appointment of the Governor, and nominated by his party for Associate Judge, but defeated by reason of the decided and long existing preponderance of the Democracy in the county. When a young man, and living in a small log house near the tavern stand of his brother, Charles, he was elected constable of his township, and, being too poor to own a horse, performed the functions of his office on foot. Since then he has made constables and other officers, and owned horses without number. Previous to 1837 the widow Tantlinger kept tavern in an old wooden house, on the ground now covered by the Rush house. The store here, before Rush came to the property, was conducted by Peter T. Laishley, an old and well known Methodist preacher, still living. He was then a Free Will Baptist. Morgan Jones also once kept store at this point. He is now a real estate broker in Philadelphia, and said to be wealthy. He had several brothers, among them David, John and Samuel E., who were well known. David settled in Wisconsin, and became Lieutenant Governor. John went to Kentucky, and became a prominent iron manufacturer. Samuel E. is a Probate Judge in southern Colorado. Allen Crane also once kept store here.[Q]

The house now owned and occupied by Washington Hensel, was once kept as a tavern by Samuel Frazer. Its public career terminated about the time Sebastian Rush located at Farmington. A short distance over the hill, west, there is a frame house, built by John Rush, and by him kept as a tavern for a number of years. Henry Clay Rush also kept this house for a short time. It is not classed among the old taverns, but during its short public career enjoyed a high degree of popularity. Boss Rush, jr., lives here now in the capacity of a private citizen. John Rush was one of the most popular landlords along the road. He is a brother of Boss, and is still living, somewhere in the west. This old house was destroyed by fire a few years ago, and nothing remains of it but two tall chimneys, standing erect at this day.