and South, and seldom leave their wharves until they have bagged a fair
complement of passengers, although steaming up and ringing gongs and
bells every afternoon for a week or more before their departure, as if
travelers were to be swarmed like bees. Whether stimulated by the
infectious activity of these “war times,” or convinced that the
“politeness of kings” is the best steamboat policy, the grandson of Erin
who owns and commands the Southern Republic, casts off his fastenings
but half an hour after his promised start, and the short puff of the
engine is enlivened by the wild strains of a steam-organ called a
“caliope,” which gladdens us with the assurance that we are in the
incomparable “land of Dixie.”
Reserving for a cooler hour the attractions of the lower floor, a Hades
consecrated to machinery, freight and negroes, we betake ourselves to
the second landing, where we find a long dining hall, surrounded by two
tiers of state-rooms, the upper one accessible by a stair-way leading to
a gallery, which divides the “saloon” between floor and roof. We are
shown our quarters, which leave much to be desired and nothing to spare,
and rush from their suffocating atmosphere to the outer balcony, where a
faint breeze stirs the air. There is a roofed balcony above us that
corresponds to the second tier of state-rooms, from which a party of
excited secessionists are discharging revolvers at the dippers on the
surface, and the cranes on the banks of the river.
After we have dropped down five or six miles from Montgomery, the
steam-whistle announces our approach to a landing, and, as there is no
wharf in view, we watch curiously the process by which our top-heavy
craft, under the sway of a four-knot current, is to swing round to her
invisible moorings. As we draw nigh to a wagon-worn indenture in the
bank, the “scream” softens into the dulcet pipes of the “caliope,” and
the steamer doubles upon her track, like an elephant turning at bay, her
two engines being as independent of each other as seceding states, and
slowly stemming the stream, lays her nose upon the bank, and holds it
there with the judicious aid of her paddles until a long plank is run
ashore from her bow, over which three passengers with valises make way
for a planter and his family, who come on board. The gang plank is
hauled in, the steamer turns her head down stream with the expertness of
a whale in a canal, and we resume our voyage. We renew these stoppages
various times before dark, landing here a barrel and there a box, and
occasionally picking up a passenger.
After supper, which is served on a series of parallel tables running
athwart the saloon, we return to enjoy from the balcony the cool
obscurity of the evening in this climate, where light means heat. As we
cleave the glassy surface of the black water the timber-clad banks seem
to hem us in more closely, and to shut up the vista before us, and while
we glide down with a rapidity which would need but the roar of the
rapids to prefigure a cataract beyond, we yield to the caprice of fancy,
instituting comparisons between the dark perspective ahead and the
mystery of the future.
Again a scream, and a ruddy light flashes from our prow and deepens the
shades around us. This proceeds from the burning of “light-wood”--a
highly resinous pine--in a wire basket hung on gimbals, and held like a
landing-net below the bow of the steamer, so as to guide without
blinding the pilot, who is ensconced like a Hansom cabman upon its roof.
The torch-bearer raises his cresset as we steam up to the bank, and
plants it in a socket, when a hawser is seized round a tree, and the
crew turn ashore to “wood up.” There is a steep high bank above us, and
while dusky forms are flitting to and fro with food for our furnace, we
survey a long stair-way ascending the bank at a sharp angle in a cut,
which is lost in the sheds that crown the eminence over-head. This stair
is flanked on either side by the bars of an iron tram-way, up which
freight is hauled when landed, and parallel to it is a wooden slide,
down which bales of cotton and sacks of corn are shot upon the steamer.
One or two passengers slowly ascend, and a voice in the air notifies us
that a team is at hand with a load of ladies, who shortly after are seen
picking their way down the flight of steps. The cresset is constantly
replenished with fresh light-wood, and the shadows cast by its
flickering flame make us regret that we have not with us a Turner to
preserve this scene, which would have been a study for Rembrandt or
Salvator Rosa.
At midnight we halt for a couple of hours at Selma, a “rising town,”
which has taken a start of late, owing to the arrival of a branch
railway that connects it with Tennessee and the Mississippi River. Here
a huge _embarcadère_, several stories high, seems fastened to the side
of the bank, and affords us an opportunity of stepping out from either
story of the Southern Republic upon a corresponding landing. Upon one of
these floors there are hackmen and hotel runners, competing for those
who land, and indicating the proximity of a town, if not a city. Our
captain had resolved upon making but a short stay, in lieu of tying up
until morning--his usual practice--when an acquaintance comes on board
and begs him to wait an hour for a couple of ladies and some children
whom he will hunt up a mile or so out of town. Times are hard, and the
captain very cheerfully consents, not insensable to the flattering
insinuation, “You know our folks never go with any one but you, if they
can help it.”
The next day and evening are a repetition of the foregoing scenes, with
more plantations in view, and a general air of tillage and prosperity.
We are struck by the uniformity of the soil, which everywhere seems of
inexhaustible fertility, and by the unvarying breadth of the stream,
which, but for its constantly recurring sinuosities, might pass for a
broad ship-canal. We also remark that the bluffs rarely sink into
bottoms susceptible of overflow, and admire the verdure of the primitive
forest, a tangle of mangolias in full flower, of laurels, and of various
oaks peculiar to this region, and which, though never rising to the
dignity of that noble tree in higher latitudes, are many of them
extremely graceful. All this sylva of moderate stature is intertwined
with creepers, and at intervals we see the Spanish moss, indicating the
malarious exhalations of the soil beneath. The Indian corn, upon which
the Southerners rely principally for food, has attained a height of two
feet, and we are told that, in consequence of the war, it is sown in
greater breadth than usual. The cotton plant has but just peeped above
the earth, and, alluding to its tenderness, those around us express
anxieties about that crop, which, it seems, are never allayed until it
has been picked, bagged and pressed, shipped and sold.
As I am not engaged upon an itinerary, let these sketches suffice to
convey an idea of the 417 miles of winding river which connect
Montgomery with Mobile, to which place the Southern Republic conveyed us
in thirty-five hours, stoppings included.
One of the Egyptian pyramids owes its origin to the strange caprice of a
princess, and the Southern Republic is said to have been built with the
proceeds of an accidental “haul” of Gold Coast natives, who fell into
the net of her enterprising proprietor. This worthy, born of Irish
parents in Milk street, is too striking a type of what the late Mr.
Webster was wont to call “a Northern man with Southern principles,” not
to deserve something more than a passing notice.
For out-and-out Southern notions there is nothing in Dixie’s Land like
the successful emigrant from the North and East. Captain Meagher had at
his fingers’ ends all the politico-economical facts and figures of the
Southern side of the question, and rested his reason solely upon the
more sordid and material calculations of the secessionists. It was a
question of tariffs. The North had, no doubt, provided the protection of
a navy, the facilities of mails, the construction of forts,
custom-houses, and post-offices, in the South, and placed countless
well-paid offices at the disposal of gentlemen fond of elegant leisure;
but for all these the South had been paying more than their value, and
when abolitionists were allowed to elect a sectional president, and the
system of forced labor, which is the basis of Southern prosperity, was
threatened, the South were but too happy to take a “snap judgment,” as
in a _pie poudre_ court, and declare the federal compact forfeited and
annulled forever.
During the long second day of our voyage we examined the faces of the
proletarians, whose color and constitutions so well adapt them for the
Cyclopian realm of the main deck. Among them we detect several
physiognomies which strike us as resembling seedlings from the Gold
Coast, rather than the second or third fruits of ancient
transplantation. A fellow-traveller gratifies, at the same time, our
curiosity and our penetration. There are several native Africans, or, as
they are called in Cuba, _bonzes_, on board. They are the property of
the argumentative captain, and were acquired by a _coup de main_, at
which I have already hinted in this letter. It seems that a club of
planters in this state and one or two others resolved, little more than
a year ago, to import a cargo of Africans. They were influenced partly
by cupidity and partly by a fancy to set the United States laws at
defiance, and to evince their contempt for New England philanthropy. The
job was accepted by an Eastern house, which engaged to deliver the cargo
at a certain point on the coast within certain limits of time.
Whether the shipment arrived earlier than anticipated, or whether
Captain Meagher was originally designated as the person to whom the bold
and delicate manœuvre of landing them should be intrusted, it is
certain that on a certain Sunday in last July he took a little coasting
trip in his steamer Czar, and appeared at Mobile on the following
morning in season to make his regular voyage up river. It is no less
certain that he ran the dusky strangers in at night by an unfrequented
pass, and landed them among the cane-brakes of his own plantation with
sufficient celerity to be back at the moorings of the Czar without his
absence having been noticed. The vessel from which the _bonzes_ were
delivered were scuttled and sunk, and her master and crew found their
way North by rail.
But the parties in interest soon claimed to divide the spoils, when, to
their infinite disgust, the enterprising captain very coolly professed
to ignore the whole business, and defied them to seek to recover by suit
at law property the importation of which was regarded and would be
punished as felony, if not as piracy, by the judicial tribunals. A case
was made, and issue joined, when the captain proved a circumstantial
_alibi_, and, having cast the claimants, doled them out a few _bonzes_,
perhaps to escape assassination, as shells, while he kept the oyster in
the shape of the pick of the importation, which he still holds,
reconciling his conscience to the transaction by interpreting it as
_salvage_.
All this is told us by our interlocutor, who was one of the losers by
the affair, and who stigmatized the conduct of its hero as having been
treacherous. The latter, after repeated jocular inquiries, suffers his
vanity to subdue his reticence, and finishes by “acknowledging the
corn.”
In the afternoon of the second day we meet two steamers ascending the
river with heavy cargoes, and are told that they are the Keyes and the
Lewis, recently warned off and _not seized_ by the blockading squadron
off Pensacola. They are deep with provisions for the forces of the
Confederate States army before Pickens, which must now be dispatched
from Montgomery by rail.
In Mobile, for the first time since leaving Washington, “we realize” the
entire stagnation of business. There are but five vessels in port,
chiefly English, which will suffice to carry away the _debris_ of the
cotton crop. Exchange on the North is unsalable, owing to the
impossibility of importing coin through the unsettled country. And bills
on London are of slow sale at par, which would leave a profit of seven
per cent. upon the importation of gold from your side.
* * * * *
MOBILE, _Sunday, May_ 12.
The heat of the city rendered an excursion to which I was invited, for
the purpose of visiting the forts at the entrance of the bay,
exceedingly agreeable, and I was glad to get out from the smell of warm
bricks to the breezy waters of the sea. The party comprised many of the
leading merchants and politicians of this city, which is the third in
importance as a port of exportation in the United States of America.
There was not a man among them who did not express, with more or less
determination, the resolve never to submit to the rule of the accursed
North. Let there be no mistake whatever as to the unanimity which exists
at present in the South to fight for what it calls its independence, and
to carry on a war to the knife with the government of the United States.
I have frequently had occasion to remark the curious operation of the
doctrine of state rights on the minds of the people; but an examination
of the institutions of the country as they actually exist leads to the
inference that, where the tyranny of the majority is at once
irresponsible and cruel, it is impossible for any man, where the
doctrine prevails, to resist it with safety or success. It is the
inevitable result of the action of this majority, as it operates in
America, first to demoralize and finally to absorb the minority; and
even those who have maintained what are called “Union doctrines,” and
who are opposed to secession or revolution, have bowed their heads
before the majesty of the mass, and have hastened to signify their
acquiescence in the decisions which they have hitherto opposed. The
minority, cowardly in consequence of the arbitrary and vindictive
character of the overwhelming power against which it has struggled, and
disheartened by defeat, of which the penalties are tremendous in such
conflicts as these, hastens to lick the feet of the conqueror, and
rushes with frantic cheers after the chariot in the triumph which
celebrates its own humiliation. If there be a minority at all on this
great question of secession in the Southern states, it hides in holes
and corners inaccessible to the light of day, and sits there in darkness
and in sorrow, silent and fearful, if not dumb and hopeless. There were
officers who had served with distinction under the flag of the United
States, now anxious to declare that it was not their flag, and that they
had no affection for it, although they were ready to admit they would
have continued to serve under it if their states had not gone out. A
man’s state, in fact, under the operation of these majority doctrines to
which I have adverted, holds hostages for his fidelity to the majority,
not only in such land or fortune as he may possess within her bounds,
but in his family, his relatives and kin, and if the state revolts, the
officer who remains faithful to the flag of the United States is
considered by the authorities of the revolting state a traitor, and,
what is worse, he is treated in the persons of those he leaves behind
him as the worst kind of political renegade. General Scott, but a few
months ago the most honored of men in a republic which sets such store
on military success, is now reviled and abused because, being a
Virginian by birth, he did not immediately violate his oath, abandon his
post, and turn to fight against the flag which he has illustrated by
repeated successes, during a career of half a century, the moment his
state passed an ordinance of secession.
An intelligent and accomplished officer, who accompanied me to-day
around the forts under his command, told me that he had all along
resisted secession, but that when his state went out he felt it was
necessary to resign his commission in the United States army, and to
take service with the confederates. Among the most determined opponents
of the North, and the most vehement friends of what are called here
“domestic institutions,” are the British residents, English, Irish and
Scotch, who have settled here for trading purposes, and who are
frequently slave-holders. These men have no state rights to uphold, but
they are convinced of the excellence of things as they are, or find it
their interest to be so.
The waters of two rivers fall into the head of the Bay of Mobile, which
is, in fact, a narrow sea-creek, between low sandy banks covered with
pine and forest trees, broken here and there into islands, extending
some thirty miles inland, with a breadth varying from three to seven
miles. No attempt has been made, apparently, to improve the waters, or
to provide docks or wharfage for the numerous cotton ships which lie out
at the mouth of the bay, more than twenty five miles from Mobile. All
the cotton has to be sent down to them in lighters, and the number of
men thus employed in the cotton season in loading the barges,
navigating, and transferring the cargoes to the ships, is very
considerable, and their rate of wages is high.
The horror entertained by a merchant captain of the shore is well known,
and the skippers are delighted at an anchorage so far from land, which
at the same time detains the crews in the ships and prevents “running.”
At present there are but seven ships at the anchorage, nearly all
British, and one of the latter appears in the distance hard and fast
ashore, though whether she got there in consequence of the lights not
being burning or from neglect it is impossible to say. Fort Gaines, on
the right bank of the channel, near the entrance, is an unfinished shell
of a fort, which was commenced by the United States engineers some time
ago, and which it would not be easy to finish without a large outlay of
money and labor. It is not well placed to resist either a land attack or
an assault by boats. A high sand-bank in front of one of the faces
screens the fire, and a wood on another side, if occupied by riflemen,
would render it difficult to work the barbette guns. It is not likely,
however, that the fort will be attacked. The channel it commands is only
fit for light vessels. From this fort to the other side of the channel,
where Fort Morgan stands, the distance is over three miles, and the
deep-water channel is close to the latter fort. The position of the
Gaines is held by a strong body of Alabama troops--stout, sturdy men,
who have volunteered from farm, field, or desk. They are armed with
ordinary muskets of the old pattern, and their uniform is by no means
uniform; but the men look fit for service. The fort would take a
garrison of five hundred men if fully mounted, but the parapets are mere
partition walls of brickwork crenellated; the bomb-proofs are
unfinished, and, but for a few guns mounted on the sand-hills, the place
is a defenceless shell-trap. There are no guns in the casemates, and
there is no position ready to bear the weight of a gun in barbette. The
guns which are on the beach are protected by sand-bag traverses, and are
more formidable than the whole fortress. The steamer proceeded across
the channel to Fort Morgan, which is a work of considerable importance,
and is assuming a formidable character under the superintendence of
Colonel Hardee, formerly of the United States army. It has a regular
trace, bastion and curtain, with a dry ditch and drawbridge, well-made
casemates and bomb-proofs, and a tolerable armament of columbiads,
forty-two and thirty-two pounders, a few ten-inch mortars, and light
guns in the external works at the salients. The store of ammunition
seems ample. Some of the fuses are antiquated, and the gun-carriages are
old-fashioned. The open parade and the unprotected gorges of the
casemates would render the work extremely unpleasant under a shell fire,
and the buildings and barracks inside are at present open to the
influences of heat. The magazines are badly traversed and inadequately
protected. A very simple and apparently effective contrivance for
dispensing with the use of the sabot in shells was shown to me by
Colonel Maury, the inventor. It consists of two circular grummets of
rope, one at the base and the other at the upper circumference of the
shell, made by a simple machinery to fit tightly to the sphere, and
bound together by thin copper wire. The grummets fit the bore of the gun
exactly, and act as wads, allowing the base of the shell to rest in
close contact with the charge, and breaking into oakum on leaving the
muzzle. Those who know what mischief can be done by the fragments of the
sabot when fired over the heads of troops, will appreciate this simple
invention, which is said to give increased range to the horizontal
shell. There must be about sixty guns in this work; it is
over-garrisoned, and, indeed, it seems to be the difficulty here to know
what to do with the home volunteers. Rope mantlets are used on the
breeches of some of the barbette guns. At night the harbor is in perfect
darkness. Notwithstanding the defences I have indicated, it would be
quite possible to take Fort Morgan with a moderate force, well supplied
with the means of vertical fire.
“Are there many mosquitos here?” inquired I of the waiter on the day of
my arrival. “Well, there’s a few, I guess; but I wish there were ten
times as many.” “In the name of goodness, why do you say so?” asked I,
with some surprise and indignation. “Because we’d get rid of the ----
Black Republicans out of Fort Pickens all the sooner,” replied he. There
is a strange unilateral tendency in the minds of men in judging of the
operation of causes and results in such a contest as that which now
prevails between the North and the South. The waiter reasoned and spoke
like many of his betters. The mosquitos, for whose aid he was so
anxious, were regarded by him as true Southerners, who would only
torture his enemies. The idea of these persecuting little fiends being
so unpatriotic as to vex the Confederates in their sandy camp never
entered into his mind for a moment. In the same way, a gentleman of
intelligence, who was speaking to me of the terrible sufferings which
would be inflicted on the troops at Tortugas and at Pickens by fever,
dysentery, and summer heats, looked quite surprised when I asked him,
“whether these agencies would not prove equally terrible to the troops
of the Confederates?”
* * * * *
MOBILE, _May_ 18, 1861.
I avail myself of the departure of a gentleman who is going to New York
by the shortest route he can find, to send you the accompanying letters.
The mails are stopped; so are the telegraphs; and it is doubtful whether
I can get to New Orleans by water. Of what I saw at Fort Pickens and
Pensacola here is an account, written in a very hurried manner, and
under very peculiar circumstances.
* * * * *
_Tuesday, May_ 14, 1861.
Two New Orleans gentlemen, who came overland from Pensacola yesterday,
give such an account of their miseries from heat, dust, sand, and want
of accommodation, in the dreary waste through which they passed for more
than seventeen hours, that I sought out some other way of going there,
and at last heard of a small schooner, called the Diana, which would
gladly undertake to run round by sea, if permitted to enter by the
blockading squadron.