started in the train for Chicago. I bade General Prentiss and the
officers of his staff good-by, and I doubt not, if the brigade is
enrolled in the United States army it will do good service. At the
present moment these officers are without pay, and they make a joke of
their empty pockets; but it is one of those jokes which spoil by
iteration. I saw more of Cairo from the windows of the carriage than it
was my lot to behold during my stay in the place. The rail is laid on
the levee, and I looked down on a flat land, which would become a swamp
if Ohio and Mississippi were not kept out assiduously, dotted with
wooden houses, a church or two, and some poor shanties, in wonder that
people could live in it on any food but quinine. The lower story of the
houses built along the levee must be below water level, and proper
drainage cannot be effected. A short way outside the “city” there is,
indeed, a veritable swamp, out of which a forest of dead trees wave
their ghastly leafless arms. But Cairo is to be a great place when all
the land between the two rivers is filled up, and raised above
inundation.
Mound City, the first station, is occupied by an outpost or small camp.
It consists of several log-huts, some tumbling rotten wood hovels, and a
fine growth of trees--white oak, &c. Land here is to be had at $10 to
$25 an acre. Better land lay further on, and through fields and cleared
ground, where the “army worm,” however--not a soldier, but an insect of
that name--had been at work--we passed on to Jonesborough, a large
village of houses and stores, with an “eating and drinking saloon;” and
next came to Cobden, named after one who is better known than the Jones
who founded the former settlement. The name of the great political
economist and reformer has not worked a spell upon the place, for it has
more drinking saloons than manufactories, and the houses--vote and
all--would not be thought much of even by a Dorsetshire peasant. The
inhabitants of Cobden are to be counted by the dozen rather than by the
hundred. It may be “great hereafter.” Carbondale, still further on, is a
more flourishing looking and larger village, and it possesses a “bank,”
which does its business in a small wooden house resplendent with the
names of “cashier” and “president,” painted on a sign-board. In spite of
the name there is no coal here, but a large field of bituminous deposit,
good for domestic purposes, crops out in the prairie at a nice little
place called Dugoyne, some miles further on, and is sold at the pit’s
mouth for $1 25, or about 5_s._ 2_d._, a ton. Here, out of compliment to
Cairo, perhaps, is a store rejoicing in the style and title of “The
Commercial Emporium of Egypt,” and, in keeping with the primitive habits
of the people, there was an announcement on the boards that the terms
were “cash or produce.”
_June 23._--A large-bodied Yorkshire man, who had a full share of most
of the attributes of his shire folk, in the service of the land
department of the Illinois Central Railroad, gave me all the information
necessary about the country. He was called “major” by his intimates,
and, said he, with a wink, “Once I was a major, but, unfortunately,
there was a word before it--I was troop sergeant-major in the Queen’s
Bays.” He pointed out the fat places where “we put our Englishmen” when
they come to settle on the prairie lands on which we were just entering
as morning broke, and seemed hopeful of a grand future for the vast
plains, which only stand in need of a little wood to render them fit for
the reception of despairing agriculturists when the war fever is over.
How pleasant it was to see white faces in the fields, to gaze on the
waving corn, and on the martial rows of wheat-sheafs! to behold the
villages and the Christian spires rising in the distance; to observe, as
it were, under one’s eyes, the growth of civilized communities; the
village swelling into the town, and the town grasping the dimensions of
a city.
And how wonderful has been the work of the rail; in a night it has
spanned the interval between war and peace, between swamp and
harvest-fields, between sedition and contentment. Last night we
travelled through lines of outposts, over danger-haunted bridges, by
camps where the soldiers watched eagerly for their supply of bread, and
cheered lustily as it was delivered to them from the train, for without
its aid they could get none. This morning Union flags floated from the
little stations. Corn is abundant. The vast plains are rich with crops,
or are ready to yield to the tilth. A city worthy of such a name rises
above the waters of the sea-like lake whose waves roll from the
boundless horizon in crisping foam on the smooth sandy beach. The pure
clear air invigorates the frame, weakened by the warm clammy breath of
the South. The notes of the mocking-bird are heard no more, but the
prairie hen gets up with a sharp whirr from the roadside, and drops with
her brood into the deep, flowering clover; the partridge calls from the
stubble, and instead of the foul turkey-buzzard and his lazy wheels,
swoops the gray falcon over the broad meadow in rapid curves. Chicago
receives us, and comfort, cleanliness, quiet, good meat, butter and
bread--of which, indeed, we had a foretaste at the refreshment rooms at
Centralia, where I took tea last night--assure the traveller that he is
not the inmate of a Southern hotel.
* * * * *
Typographical errors corrected by the etext transcriber:
admiration for pacfic tendencies=> admiration for pacific tendencies {pg
11}
can he accepted=> can be accepted {pg 18}
is loading the barges=> in loading the barges {pg 34}
the haunts of aligators, cranes, snakes=> the haunts of alligators,
cranes, snakes {pg 37}
with a trail of light seawerd=> with a trail of light seaward {pg 38}
Bragg would be obliged to retrie=> Bragg would be obliged to retire {pg
58}
Its only the signal, sir=> It’s only the signal, sir {pg 58}
As a _näive_ specimen=> As a _naïve_ specimen {pg 78}
chifly occurred among early settlers=> chiefly occurred among early
settlers {pg 107}
the Mississppi, a large portion=> the Mississippi, a large portion {pg
113}
complements for the past, encouragement for the future.=> compliments
for the past, encouragement for the future. {pg 123}
* * * * *