Staunton spectator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1849-1896, 1883-07-10

CROWS TAVERN AND ITS OLD-TIME GLo-
RIES.
page McCarty In the Zephers
Along the SUBMITS and narrow valleys
on the height of the main Allegheny ridge,
called '"The Great Divide" the electric in
fiuences render the air peculiarly exhila-
rating in summer, while the rich coloring of
the sky and landscape produce a pic
turesque luxuriance highly tempting to a
Bohemian wanderer.
On the old stage road, halfway between
the White Sulphur Springs and the old
Sweet" you behold the last of the old
roadside taverns, called in old times Crow S
Tavern, where all the famous men, Daniel
Webster, Henry Clay, Calhoun, Tom Ben
ton, and in later years Buchanan, Breck-
enridge, and scores of other political wor-
thies, have sat under the giant old oaks
and told long anecdotes, marking the half
hours with juleps until the bell swung in
the yard changed forth the summons to
meals. This was a veritable summer Ar
cadia, barring the flocks and pretty shep-
herdesseS, but if Chloes and PhilIises were
lacking, the younger Arcadians could 60
counting at the gayer watering places near
at hand.
The host, Capt. Crow, was type of his
class, but prince withal, whose eccen-
tricity and power of drinking placed him
at the top of the calling. He was very red
and portly, good humored and jovial, and
owing to a brilliant and cultivated imagi-
nation, had attained all over the State of
Old Virginia far and wide the proud title
of 'the biggest liar that ever walked on
two legs" But the beautiful tribute that
mourning friend who came along there a
= hnnk IL
scribes him. The lines are cut in the bark
of giant sycamore that grows on the bank
of gurgling brook, whose musical muir
muir seems to change to a melancholy dirge
as you read this epitaph:
IN MEMoRIAM.
"Old Grow is dead that good old soul,
Who used to brew our wassail bowl.
His cheek was red and his nose was blue,
But his hand was strong and his heart was
true.
He drank all day and he drank all night,
And at last he drank old Satan tight.
For when the devil caught his ghost,
Grow never CEASED TO call his toast,
TIL the devil thought he had caught Monk.
And staggered back into hell dead drunk
And Crow skipped aloft like shooting star,
And asked st. Peter to show him the bar"
Among the features of the tavern was
the Captains pet bear Bruin, an animal as
remarkable for intelligence and devotion as
Han of Iceland's bear, which, according to
the glowing pen of Victor Hugo, would
carry his master on his back like horse at
great speed when Han was fleeing from or
pursuing his enemies.
The Captain was proud of Brlin, and
between the two, master and bear, there
was tender and pathetic attachment,
which, however, did not preclude little
Mosaic discipline at times; for when Brain
transcribed the bounds of propriety his
master would give him trouncing with the
wagon whip, after which Bruin would re-
tire to the fork Of a big oak in the yard
and wait until he thought his master had
softened, when he would come down and
stand on his hind legs with tears in his
eyes until Crow made friends with him.
1t was touching to hear Crow upbraid
his favorite when Bruin would take to the
woods sometimes in the spring when a
young bears fancy lightly turns to thoughts
of love, and return very much used up by
camp life, predatory foraging and fighting
The bears favorite trick was to carry his
master round the yard on his back at full
bear trot, moving both feet on side at the
same time. This feat was so warmly ap-
plauded that Crow often declared that he
could ride Bruin days journey, and had
done it,
Nobody ever actually saw him take
long ride but one, and that was an adven-
ture which is told in colors even liyelier
than those of Capt. Crow.
1t was on County Court day in June,
when the host of the roadside Inn had
gathered the first luxuriant crop of mint
for the delectation of the neighbors of the
country side, who would certainly pause
there on their way to court at Covington,
which was fifteen miles distant s'around
the mountain by the road, but only three
miles across by the path.
They kept on stopping until presently
there were fifteen horses tied at the rack,
and every newcomer was only the signal
for fresh julep. Presently, what with
the talk and the mint, Capt. Crow got ex-
cited and swore he'd shut up house and go
10 court, too. But what was his chagrin to
perceive that his saddle-bag was prancing
around in the meadow with some dissipated
colts. The more the boy ran after the nag
the less the nag was inclined to be caught,
until presently the Captain got mad, and
says he, in his way:
"D-n everything and everybody. I
won't stand it any longer, and durn my
cats if don't ride my bear"
NV nat IN the name OF Moses are you
thinking of Capt. Crow?' demanded his
friends
'.Never mind about what I'm thinking
about Pm bound to ride that bear, and I'll
make old Covington think it's the biggest
scare ever was seen or show coming, one
or t'other. Gentlemen, you take the road,
I'll take the mountain, and bet the drinks
that Pm there first
''Agreed !" said the others. No sooner
said than done. Away went the fifteen
riders down the road on their horses, and
away went Capt. Crow up the mountain on
his bear.
Bruin seemed to comprehend the demand
of the occasion and let himself out in style, |
moving two feet on side with a long am
bling stride, un-Bonnerlike, perhaps, but
good to get over ground and as easy to the |
rider as rocking chair. Up one spur they
went, down deep hollow, along a steep
ridge, and up again. Bruin going like a |
steed that knows his rider.
''By Jonah % exclaimed Capt Crow in |
the exultation of expected victory, sI'n
teach them looms how to lose whiskey in a
ride. Garry me through, my pet, and
PHI
But at that moment Bruin gave roar
and lurch and then started uD the noun.