WAR AND AGRICULTURE.
Official Favors.--Division of Labor.--Moral Suasion.--Corn-gathering
in the South.--An Alarm.--A Frightened Irishman.--The Rebels
Approaching.--An Attack on Waterproof.--Falstaff Redivivus.--His Feats
of Arms.--Departure for New Orleans.
Our cotton having been ginned and baled, we made preparations for
shipping it to market. These preparations included the procurement
of a permit from the Treasury agent at Natchez, a task of no small
magnitude. An application for the permit required, in addition to my
own signature, the names of two property-owning citizens, as security
for payment of the duties on the cotton. This application being placed
in the hands of the Treasury agent, I was requested to call in two
hours. I did so, and was then put off two hours longer. Thus I spent
two whole days in frequent visits to that official. His memory was
most defective, as I was obliged to introduce myself on each occasion,
and tell him the object of my call.
A gentleman who had free access to the agent at all times hinted that
he could secure early attention to my business on payment for
his trouble. Many persons asserted that they were obliged to pay
handsomely for official favors. I do not _know_ this to be true. I
never paid any thing to the Treasury agent at Natchez or elsewhere,
beyond the legitimate fees, and I never found any man who would give
me a written statement that he had done so. Nevertheless, I had much
circumstantial evidence to convince me that the Treasury officials
were guilty of dishonorable actions. The temptation was great, and,
with proper care, the chances of detection were small.
Armed with my permit, I returned to the plantation. Mr. Colburn, in
my absence, had organized our force, lately engaged in cotton-picking,
into suitable parties for gathering corn, of which we had some three
hundred acres standing in the field. In New England I fear that corn
which had remained ungathered until the middle of February, would be
of comparatively little value. In our case it was apparently as sound
as when first ripened.
Corn-gathering in the South differs materially from corn-gathering in
the North. The negroes go through the field breaking the ears from the
stalks without removing the husk. The ears are thrown into heaps at
convenient distances from each other, and in regular rows. A wagon is
driven between these rows, and the corn gathered for the crib. Still
unhusked, it is placed in the crib, to be removed when needed. It is
claimed that the husk thus remaining on the corn, protects it from
various insects, and from the effect of the weather.
Every body of laborers on a plantation is called a "gang." Thus we had
"the picking-gang," "the corn-gang," "the trash-gang," "the hoe-gang,"
"the planting-gang," "the plow-gang," and so on through the list. Each
gang goes to the field in charge of a head negro, known as the driver.
This driver is responsible for the work of his gang, and, under the
old _régime_, was empowered to enforce his orders with the whip, if
necessary. Under our new dispensation the whip was laid aside, and a
milder policy took its place. It was satisfactory with the adults; but
there were occasions when the smaller boys were materially benefited
by applications of hickory shrubs. Solomon's words about sparing the
rod are applicable to children of one race as well as to those of
another. We did not allow our drivers to make any bodily punishment in
the field, and I am happy to say they showed no desire to do so.
As I have before stated, our first organization was the picking-gang.
Then followed the gin-gang and the press-gang. Our gin-gang was
organized on principles of total abstinence, and, therefore, differed
materially from the gin-gangs of Northern cities. Our press-gang,
unlike the press-gangs of New York or Chicago, had nothing to do with
morning publications, and would have failed to comprehend us had we
ordered the preparation of a sensation leader, or a report of the last
great meeting at Union Square. Our press-gang devoted its time and
energies to putting our cotton into bales of the proper size and
neatness.
The corn-gang, the trash-gang, and the plow-gang were successively
organized by Mr. Colburn. Of the first I have spoken. The duties of
the second were to gather the corn-stalks or cotton-stalks, as the
case might be, into proper heaps for burning. As all this débris came
under the generic name of "trash," the appellation of the gang is
readily understood. Our trash-gang did very well, except in a certain
instance, when it allowed the fire from the trash to run across a
field of dead grass, and destroy several hundred feet of fence. In
justice to the negroes, I should admit that the firing of the grass
was in obedience to our orders, and the destruction of the fence
partly due to a strong wind which suddenly sprang up. The trash-gang
is usually composed of the younger children and the older women.
The former gather and pile the stalks which the latter cut up. They
particularly enjoy firing the heaps of dry trash.
It was on Saturday, the 13th of February, that our press-gang
completed its labors. On the afternoon of that day, as we were hauling
our cotton to the landing, the garrison at Waterproof, two miles
distant, suddenly opened with its artillery upon a real or supposed
enemy. A gun-boat joined in the affair, and for half an hour the
cannonade was vigorous. We could see the flashes of the guns and the
dense smoke rising through the trees, but could discover nothing more.
When the firing ceased we were somewhat anxious to know the result.
Very soon a white man, an Irishman, who had been a short time in
the vicinity to purchase cotton, reached our place in a state of
exhaustion. He told a frightful story of the surprise and massacre
of the whole garrison, and was very certain no one but himself had
escaped. He had fortunately concealed himself under a very small
bridge while the fight was going on. He called attention to his
clothes, which were covered with mud, to prove the truth of his
statement.
For a short time the situation had an unpleasant appearance. While
we were deliberating upon the proper measures for safety, one of our
negroes, who was in Waterproof during the firing, came to us with
_his_ story. The fight had been on our side, some guerrillas having
chased one of our scouting parties to a point within range of our
guns. Our men shelled them with artillery, and this was the extent
of the battle. The story of the Irishman, in connection with the true
account of the affair, forcibly reminded me of the famous battle of
Piketon, Kentucky, in the first year of the war.
On the next day (Sunday) I rode to Waterproof, leaving Colburn on the
plantation. Just as I arrived within the lines, I ascertained that an
attack was expected. The most stringent orders had been issued against
allowing any person to pass out. Ten minutes later a scout arrived,
saying that a force of Rebels was advancing to attack the post. The
gun-boat commenced shelling the woods in the rear of Waterproof, and
the artillery on land joined in the work. The Rebels did not get near
enough to make any serious demonstration upon the town. The day passed
with a steady firing from the gun-boat, relieved by an occasional
interval of silence. Toward night the small garrison was re-enforced
by the arrival of a regiment from Natchez. On the following day a
portion of General Ellet's Marine Brigade reached Waterproof, and
removed all possibility of further attack.
In the garrison of Waterproof, at the commencement of this fight,
there was a certain officer who could have sat for the portrait
of Falstaff with very little stuffing, and without great change of
character. Early in the war he belonged to an Eastern regiment, but on
that occasion he had no commission, though this fact was not generally
known. Nearly as large as Hackett's Falstaff, he was as much a gascon
as the hero of the Merry Wives of Windsor. He differed from Falstaff
in possessing a goodly amount of bravery, but this bravery was
accompanied with an entire absence of judgment.
In the early part of the fight, and until he was too drunk to move,
this _preux chevalier_ dashed about Waterproof, mounted on a small
horse, which he urged to the top of his speed. In one hand he
flourished a cane, and in the other a revolver. He usually allowed the
reins to lie on his horse's neck, except when he wished to change his
direction. With his abdomen protruding over the pommel of the saddle,
his stirrups several inches too short, one boot-leg outside his
pantaloons and the other inside, a very large hat pressed nearly to
his eyes, and a face flushed with excitement and whisky, he was a
study John Leech would have prized. Frequent and copious draughts of
the cup which cheers and inebriates placed him _hors de combat_ before
the close of the day.
From the crest of the levee, he could at any time discover several
lines of battle approaching the town. Frequently he informed the
commandant that the Rebels were about to open upon us with a dozen
heavy batteries, which they were planting in position for a long
siege. If the enemy had been in the force that this man claimed, they
could not have numbered less than fifty thousand. When unhorsed for
the last time during the day, he insisted that I should listen to the
story of his exploits.
"I went," said he, "to the colonel, this morning, and told him, sir,
to give me ten men, and I would go out and feel the enemy's position.
He gave me the men, and I went. We found the enemy not less than a
thousand strong, sir, behind Mrs. Miller's gin-house. They were the
advance of the whole Rebel army, sir, and I saw they must be driven
back. We charged, and, after a desperate fight, drove them. They
opposed us, sir, every inch of the way for two miles; but we routed
them. We must have killed at least a hundred of them, sir, and wounded
as many more. They didn't hurt a man of us; but the bullets flew very
thick, sir--very. I myself killed twelve of them with my own hand,
sir. This is the way it was, sir. This revolver, you see, sir, has six
barrels. I emptied it once, sir; I reloaded; I emptied it again, sir.
Two times six are twelve, sir. I killed twelve of them with my own
hand. Let it be recorded.
"On my way back, sir, I set fire to the gin-house, so that it should
no more be a shelter for those infernal Rebels. You yourself, sir, saw
that building in flames, and can testify to the truth of my story."
In this strain the warrior gave the history of his moments of glory.
The portion I have written was true in some points. He found three
men (instead of a thousand), and pursued them a few hundred yards. He
discharged his revolver at very long range, but I could not learn
that his shots were returned. He fired the gin-house "to cover his
retreat," and gained the fortifications without loss. I do not know
his locality at the present time, but presume he remained, up to the
close of the war, where storms of shot and shell continually darkened
the air, and where lines of battle were seen on every side.
The siege being raised, I returned to the plantation. From Waterproof,
during the fight, I could see our buildings with perfect distinctness.
I had much fear that some Rebel scouting party might pay the
plantation a visit while the attack was going on. I found, on my
return, that Colburn had taken the matter very coolly, and prevented
the negroes becoming alarmed. He declared that he considered the
plantation as safe as Waterproof, and would not have exchanged places
with me during the fight. The negroes were perfectly quiet, and
making preparations for plowing. While the fight was in progress, my
associate was consulting with the drivers about the details of work
for the ensuing week, and giving his orders with the utmost _sang
froid_. In consideration of the uncertainty of battles in general, and
the possibility of a visit at any moment from a party of Rebel scouts,
my partner's conduct was worthy of the highest commendation.
Before leaving Waterproof I had arranged for a steamer to call for our
cotton, which was lying on the river bank. Waterproof lay at one side
of the neck of a peninsula, and our plantation was at the other side.
It was two miles across this peninsula, and sixteen miles around it,
so that I could start on horseback, and, by riding very leisurely,
reach the other side, long in advance of a steamboat. The steamer came
in due time. After putting our cotton on board, I bade Mr. Colburn
farewell, and left him to the cares and perplexities of a planter's
life. I was destined for New Orleans, to sell our cotton, and to
purchase many things needed for the prosecution of our enterprise.
On my way down the river, I found that steamboat traveling was not an
entirely safe amusement. The boat that preceded me was fired upon
near Morganzia, and narrowly escaped destruction. A shell indented her
steam-pipe, and passed among the machinery, without doing any damage.
Had the pipe been cut, the steam would have filled every part of the
boat.
I was not disturbed by artillery on the occasion of my journey, but
received a compliment from small-arms. On the morning after leaving
Natchez, I was awakened by a volley of musketry from the river-bank.
One of the bullets penetrated the thin walls of the cabin and entered
my state-room, within two inches of my head. I preserved the missile
as a souvenir of travel.
On the next day the Rebels brought a battery of artillery to the spot.
A steamer received its greeting, but escaped with a single passenger
wounded.
A gentleman who was on this boat had a very narrow escape. He told me
that he was awakened by the first shot, which passed through the upper
works of the steamer. He was occupying the upper berth in a state-room
on the side next the locality of the Rebels. His first impulse was to
spring from his resting-place, and throw himself at full length upon
the floor. He had hardly done so, when a shell entered the state-room,
and traversed the berth in the exact position where my friend had been
lying.
Having narrowly escaped death, he concluded not to run a second risk.
He returned to St. Louis by way of New York. Wishing to visit New
Orleans some time later, he sailed from New York on the _Electric
Spark_, and enjoyed the luxury of a capture by the pirates of the
"Confederate" steamer _Florida_. After that occurrence, he concluded
there was little choice between the ocean and river routes.