Four Years in Rebel Capitals Part 5

Some of the bluffs were from sixty to eighty feet in height; and down these, the cotton came on slides. These, in most cases, were at an angle of forty-five degrees, or less; strongly constructed of heavy beams, cross-tied together and firmly pegged into the hard bluff-clay.

A small, solid platform at the bottom completed the slide.

Scarcely would the plank be run out when the heavy bales came bounding down the slide, gaining momentum at every yard of descent, till at the bottom they had the velocity of a cannon-ball. The dexterity and strength of the negroes were here wonderfully displayed.

Standing at the edge of the boat--or at the foot of the slide, as the conformation of the landing indicated--heavy cotton-hook in hand, they watch the descending bale, as it bounds fiercely toward them; and just at the right moment two men, with infinite dexterity of hand and certainty of eye, strike their hooks firmly into the bagging--holding on to the plunging ma.s.s and going with it halfway across the boat. Full in front of it a third stands, like a _matador_ ready for the blow; and striking his hook deep in the end, by a sudden and simultaneous twist the three stand the bale upon end. Once stopped, two or three more jerks of the hooks and it is neatly stowed away alongside, or on top of, its fellows.

One constantly sees huge bales of from five to six hundred pounds bound down a slide eighty feet high--scarcely touching the rail more than three times in their steep descent--looking almost round from the rapidity of their motion. Yet two negroes drive their hooks into, and spin along with them; visibly checking their speed, till the third one "heads up" and stops them still, in half a boat's width.

Sometimes a hook slips, the bagging gives, or the footing yields, when the mixed ma.s.s of man and bale rolls across the boat and goes under together. But frightful as it looks to unaccustomed eyes, a more serious accident than a ducking seldom occurs; and at that, the banks resound with the yells of laughter Sambo sends after his brother-in-water.

"We've pretty thoroughly done the boat," said Styles, about midday.

"Let's go up to the professor's den and see if his head aches from 'ze Van Dorn.'"

So up we mounted, pa.s.sing on the way the faro bank, that advertises its neighborhood by most musical jingling of chips and half dollars.

"h.e.l.lo, Spring Chicken," cried Styles, to a youth in a blue sack with shoulder straps, who sat at the door of a state-room near by. "Look out for the tiger! I hear him about."

"No danger, me boy," responded the youth. "I'm too old a stager for that."

"Aye, aye! we seen that before," put in his companion, a b.u.t.toned middie of eighteen, innocent of beard. "A confounded pigeon came by here just now, jingling his halves and pretending he'd won 'em. Wasting time! Wasn't he, Styles? _We're_ too old birds to be caught with chaff."

"Look alive, my hearty," answered Staple, "You're pretty near the beast, and mamma doesn't know you're out." With which paternal admonition we ascended.

The professor was still in a deep sleep; having been transferred by the aid of a deck hand, or two, to his bower. This was a box of a state-room six feet by nine, in which was a most dilapidated double-ba.s.s, a violin case and a French horn. Over the berth, a cracked guitar hung by a greasy blue ribbon. Staple waked him without ceremony--ordered Congress water, pulled out the instruments; and soon we were in "a concord of sweet sounds," the like of which the mermaids of the Alabama had not heard before.

Suddenly, in the midst of a roaring chorus, there was a short, heavy jar that sent us pellmell across the state-room; then a series of grinding jolts; and, amid the yelling of orders, jangling of bells and backing of the wheels, the boat swung slowly round by the bows. We were hard and fast aground!

Of all the unpleasant episodes of river travel, the worst by far is to be grounded in the daytime. The dreary monotony of bank and stream as you glide by increases ten-fold when lying, hour after hour, with nothing to do but gaze at it. Under this trial the jolliest faces grow long and dismal; quiet men become dreadfully blue and the saturnine look actually suicidal. Even the negro hands talk under their breath, and the broad _Yah! Yah!_ comes less frequently from below decks.

Here we lay, two miles above Selma--hard and fast, with engines and anchors equally useless to move us a foot--until midnight. About sundown an up-boat pa.s.sed just across our bows. Little is the sympathy a grounded boat gets unless actually in danger. Every soul aboard of her, from captain to cook's boy, seemed to think us fair game, and chaff of all kinds was hailed from her decks. But she threw us a Selma paper of that evening, and a hundred eager hands were stretched over the side to catch it.

It fell at the feet of a slight, wiry man of about fifty, with twinkling gray eyes, prominent features and fierce gray moustache.

There was something in his manner that kept the more ardent ones from plucking it out of his fingers, as he stooped quietly to pick it up; but few on board ever knew that their quiet fellow-pa.s.senger was the most widely known "rebel of them all."

Many a man has read, with quickening breath, of the bold deeds of Admiral Raphael Semmes; and some have traced his blazing track to the, perhaps, Quixotic joust that ended his wild sea-kingship, never recalling that impa.s.sive fellow-pa.s.senger. Yet it was he who, seated on the rail of the "Southern Republic," read to the crowd that evening.

"What's the Washington news?"--"Anything more from Virginia!"--"What about Tennessee convention?"--"Has Bragg commenced business?"--and a thousand equally eager questions popped from the impatient crowd.

"There _is_ news, indeed!" answered Captain Semmes. "Listen, my friends, for the war has commenced in earnest."

And here, on the quiet southern river, we first heard how Baltimore had risen to drive out the troops; how there had been wild work made in spite of the police, and how hot blood of her citizens had stained the streets of the town. The account ended with the city still in frightful commotion, the people arming and companies a.s.sembling at their armories; and without even hinting the number of those hurt in the fight.

No more _ennui_ on board now. All was as much excitement as if we were racing along again; and, through the buzz and angry exclamations of the knots collected on all hands, we could catch the most varied predictions of the result, and speculations as to President Lincoln's real policy.

"Maryland must act at once. Egad, sir, _at once_, if she wants to come to us, sir," said the colonel, haranguing his group. "If she doesn't, egad! she'll be tied hand and foot in a week! _Facilis descensus_, you know!"

"Pshaw, Baltimore's noted for mobs," said an Alabamian. "This is only a little more than usual. In a week she'll forget all about it."

"This is more than a mob," answered a Virginian quietly. "Blood must come out of it; for the people will all go one way now, or make two strong and bitter parties. For my part, I believe Maryland will be with us before the boat gets off."

Late at night we swung loose and rushed past Selma, with the calliope screaming "Dixie" and "ze Van Dorn;" for the professor was himself again and waxed irate and red-patriotic over the news. We could get no more papers, however; so suspense and speculation continued until we reached Mobile.

There we heard of the quelling of the riot; of the course of the citizens; of Mr. Lincoln's pledges to the Baltimore committee, that no more troops should pa.s.s through the town; of his statement that those already pa.s.sed were only intended for the defense of the Capital.

"Pretty fair pledges, Colonel," said Styles, when we got this last news.

"Fair pledges!" responded the colonel, with serious emphasis, "Egad, sir!--_we've lost a State!_"

CHAPTER VII.

MOBILE, THE GULF CITY.

Mobile was in a state of perfect ferment when we arrived. The news from Maryland had made profound sensation and had dissipated the delusive hopes--indulged there as well as in Montgomery--like mists before the sun.

All now agreed that war must come. Many thought it already upon them.

Groups, anxious and steadfast, filled the hotels, the clubs and the post-office; and the sense of all was that Maryland had spoken not one hour too soon; having spoken, the simple duty of the South was to prevent harm to a hair of her head for words said in its defense.

Those who had been the hottest in branding the action of Virginia as laggard, looked to her for the steadiest and most efficient aid, now that the crisis faced them; while all felt she would meet the calls of the hour with never a pause for the result. The sanguine counted on Maryland, bound by every community of interest, every tie of sympathy--as already one of the Confederate States. She was no longer neutral, they said. She had put her lance in rest and rallied to the charge, in the avowed quarrel that the troops attacked were on their way to oppress her next sister. And nothing could follow but Virginia's bright falchion must flash out, and the states must lock shields and press between her and the giant she had roused.

The Gulf City had not been idle. The echo of the first gun at Charleston had roused her people; and with a wonderful accord they had sprung to arms. Law books were thrown aside, merchants locked up their ledgers, even students of theology forgot that they were men of peace--and all enrolled themselves in the "crack" companies. No wonder, when the very best blood of the state ran in the veins of the humblest private; when men of letters and culture and wealth refused any but "the post of honor," with musket on shoulder; when the most delicate fingers of their fairest worked the flags that floated over them, and the softest voices urged them to their _devoir_; no wonder, then, that high on the roll of fame are now written the names of the Mobile Cadets--of the Gulf City Guards--of the Rifles--and enough others to make the list as long as Leporello's. Not one in ten of the best born youth of Mobile remained at home; the mechanics, the stevedores and men of every cla.s.s flocked to follow their example, so that the city alone gave two full regiments and helped to fill up others. The news from Virginia and Maryland had given but a fresh impetus to these preparations; and, before my return to Montgomery, these regiments had pa.s.sed through, on their way to the new battle ground on the Potomac frontier.

On the night of our arrival in the Gulf City, that escape valve for all excitement, a dense crowd, collected in front of the Battle House and Colonel John Forsyth addressed them from the balcony. He had just returned from Washington with the southern commissioners and gave, he said, a true narrative of the manner and results of their mission. At this lapse of time it is needless to detail even the substance of his speech; but it made a marked impression on the crowd, as the surging sea of upturned faces plainly told. John Forsyth, already acknowledged one of the ablest of southern leaders, was a veritable Harry Hotspur.

His views brooked no delay or temporizing; and, as he spoke, in vein of fiery elegance, shouts and yells of defiant approval rose in full swell of a thousand voices. Once he named a noted Alabamian, whom he seemingly believed to have played a double part in these negotiations; and the excited auditory greeted his name with hisses and execrations.

That they did their fellow-citizen injustice the most trying councils of the war proved; for he soon after came South and wrought, with all the grand power in him, during the whole enduring struggle.

Staple was tired of politics, and hated a crowd; so he soon lounged off to the club, an inst.i.tution gotten up with a delightful regard to the most comfortable arrangement and the most accomplished _chef_ in the South. There one met the most cordial hospitality, the neatest entertainment and the very best wines in the Gulf section. The cook was an artist, as our first supper declared; and play could be found, too, as needed; for young Mobile was not slow, and money, in those days, was plenty.

Altogether, the tone of Mobile society was more cosmopolitan than that of any city of the South, save, perhaps, New Orleans. It may be that its commercial connections, reaching largely abroad, produced the effect; or that propinquity to and constant intercourse with its sister city induced freer mode of thought and action. Located at the head of her beautiful bay, with a wide sweep of blue water before her, the cleanly-built, unpaved streets gave Mobile a fresh, cool aspect. The houses were fine and their appointments in good, and sometimes luxurious, taste. The society was a very pleasure-loving organization, enjoying the gifts of situation, of climate and of fortune to their full. _On dit_, it sometimes forgot the Spartan code; but the stranger was never made aware of that, for it ever sedulously remembered good taste.

Between the drives, dinners and other time-killers, one week slipped around with great rapidity; and we could hardly realize it when the colonel looked over his newspaper at breakfast and said:

"Last day, boys! Egad! the cooking here _is_ a little different from Montgomery--but we must take the 'Cuba' this evening."

So adieux were spoken, and at dusk we went aboard the snug, neat little Gulf steamer of the New Orleans line. She was a trimmer craft than our floating card-house of river travel, built for a little outside work in case of necessity, or the chances of a norther.

We scudded merrily down the bay towards Fort Morgan, the grim sentinel sitting dark and lonely at the harbor's mouth and showing a row of teeth that might be a warning. The fort was now put in thorough repair and readiness by Colonel Hardee, of the regular army of the Confederate States.

I was following Styles down from the upper deck, when we heard high voices from the end of the boat, and recognized one exclaiming:

"Curse you! I'll cut your ear off!"

Round the open bar we found an excited crowd, in the center of which was our worldly-minded middie of river-boat memory and "Spring Chicken," his colleague; both talking very loud, and the latter exhibiting a bowie-knife half as long as himself. By considerable talk and more elbowing, we made our way to the boys; and, with the aid of a friendly stoker, got them both safely in my state-room.

Once there, the man of the world--who, unlike the needy knife-grinder, had a story--told it. After getting on the boat, Spring Chicken had been taking mint with sugar and something; and he took it once too often. Seeing this, the worldling tried to get him forward to his state-room; but, as we pa.s.sed the fort, a jolly pa.s.senger, who had also taken mint, waved his hat at the fortification and cried out: