Stephen Bishop: The Celebrated Guide of Mammoth Cave Angelo I. George (bio) and Gary A. O’Dell (bio) An Extraordinary Man It was a pleasant afternoon in Kentucky in the spring of 1844.1 A few guests lounged on the veranda of the Mammoth Cave Hotel, some strolled about the grounds admiring the verdant scenery and clusters of wildflowers, while others consulted with their host about the evening menu or their plans for underground adventures. They were completely unaware that, deep in the earth below this tranquil setting, a life-and-death struggle was taking place. Here, where the Jordan River ran deep and cold through Mammoth Cave, a tiny group of terrified souls huddled together in neck-deep water in an [End Page 99] absolute and fearful darkness. Torches extinguished by the sudden plunge into the chilly waters, they were unable to discern the features of the nearest person. What began as a thrilling honeymoon adventure for two newlyweds and a pair of their closest friends had turned into a fight for survival when their boat capsized while traversing the subterranean river. They clung to each other and grasped at projections on the mud-slick walls of the passage, convinced of impending death.2 Earlier that day, the wedding party of four from Bowling Green entered the cave, led by African American guide Stephen Bishop. Subsequent events suggest that some in the party became quite inebriated after a rest break in a location near the termination of Cleave-land’s Avenue, also called the Dining Table or Cornelia’s Table. As part of the caving experience, the guides would take a basket full of food and alcoholic beverages to be served at this location. Numerous published accounts record that after the meal, visitors often became tipsy from “choice old sherry.” The wedding party may have been celebrating with alcoholic refreshment even prior to this point. Bishop led his charges into the lowest level of the cave where the Jordan River had to be traversed by boat for nearly a mile, filling the passage from wall to wall and nine feet deep in places. After disembarking at a side avenue and exploring, they came back to the river and boarded the boat for a return to the surface. According to one account, “some of the party, who were in high glee, got into a romp, and overturned the boat. Their lights were extinguished, their matches wet, the boat filled with water and sank immediately . . . [they were] up to their chins in water.”3 Despite the harrowing circumstances, Bishop maintained composure and calmed the frightened tourists struggling in the cold water. [End Page 100] During his independent explorations of the cave, he had on many occasions been forced to traverse passages while neck-deep in water. He knew the present situation was potentially quite perilous and that the visitors could drown if allowed to panic. He cautioned them to “remain perfectly still, for if they moved a single step they might get out of their depth in water, and swimming would not avail them, for they could not see where to swim to.” Moving about could plunge them unexpectedly into water over their heads. When the wedding party failed to return to the surface at the designated time, a search and rescue team from the hotel was dispatched. Mat Bransford, another Black guide, led the rescue party and located the missing tourists when he heard Stephen “cheering them, and directing his movements while swimming, by the sound of their voices, which were raised, one and all, in prayer and supplication for deliverance.” Everyone was returned safely.4 Stephen L. Bishop (1820–1857) was the foremost guide at Mammoth Cave during the antebellum period whose daring exploits, personal magnetism, and knowledgeable discourses on the science of caves brought him international celebrity. Newspaper accounts and guidebooks of the period heralded Bishop as the “Columbus of the Cave;” his enslaver, Franklin Gorin, described him as a “fine genius;” English journalist Thomas Gunn referred to him as the “Cave Lion;” and newspaperman Bayard Taylor reported that Bishop was the “ruler of his realm.” One tourist praised “Stephen the illustrious . . . guide [End Page 101] Click for...