Camp-Fire and Cotton-Field Part 39

Our wheels seemed to turn very slowly. No one can express in words the anxiety with which we listened, after each shot, for the puffing of the engines. So long as the machinery was uninjured, there was no danger of our falling into Rebel hands. But with our engines disabled, our chances for capture would be very good.

As the last shot fell astern of the boat and sent up a column of spray, we looked about the cabin and saw that no one had been injured.

A moment later came the announcement from the pilot-house:

"Captain Gorman is killed!"

I ascended to the hurricane deck, and thence to the pilot-house. The pilot, with his hat thrown aside and his hair streaming in the wind, stood at his post, carefully guiding the boat on her course. The body of the captain was lying at his feet. Another man lay dying, close by the opening in which the wheel revolved. The floor was covered with blood, splinters, gla.s.s, and the fragments of a shattered stove.

One side of the little room was broken in, and the other side was perforated where the projectiles made their exit.

The first gun from the Rebels threw a sh.e.l.l which entered the side of the pilot-house, and struck the captain, who was sitting just behind the pilot. Death must have been instantaneous. A moment later, a "spherical-case shot" followed the sh.e.l.l. It exploded as it struck the wood-work, and a portion of the contents entered the side of the bar-keeper of the boat. In falling to the floor he fell against the wheel. The pilot, steering the boat with one hand, pulled the dying man from the wheel with the other, and placed him by the side of the dead captain.

Though, apparently, the pilot was as cool and undisturbed as ever, his face was whiter than usual. He said the most trying moment of all was soon after the first shots were fired. Wis.h.i.+ng to "round the bend" as speedily as possible, he rang the bell as a signal to the engineer to check the speed of one of the wheels. The signal was not obeyed, the engineers having fled to places of safety. He rang the bell once more.

He shouted down the speaking-tube, to enforce compliance with his order.

There was no answer. The engines were caring for themselves. The boat must be controlled by the rudder alone. With a dead man and a dying man at his feet, with the Rebel shot and sh.e.l.l every moment perforating the boat or falling near it, and with no help from those who should control the machinery, he felt that his position was a painful one.

We were out of danger. An hour later we found the gun-boat _Neosho_, at anchor, eight miles further up the stream. Thinking we might again be attacked, the commander of the _Neosho_ offered to convoy us to Red River. We accepted his offer. As soon as the _Neosho_ raised sufficient steam to enable her to move, we proceeded on our course.

Order was restored on the _Von Phul_. Most of the pa.s.sengers gathered in little groups, and talked about the recent occurrence. I returned to my writing, and Colburn gave his attention to a book. With the gun-boat at our side, no one supposed there was danger of another attack.

A half-hour after starting under convoy of the gun-boat, the Rebels once more opened fire. They paid no attention to the _Neosho_, but threw all their projectiles at the _Von Phul_. The first sh.e.l.l pa.s.sed through the cabin, wounding a person near me, and grazing a post against which Colburn and myself were resting our chairs. This sh.e.l.l was followed by others in quick succession, most of them pa.s.sing through the cabin. One exploded under the portion of the cabin directly beneath my position. The explosion uplifted the boards with such force as to overturn my table and disturb the steadiness of my chair.

I dreaded splinters far more than I feared the pitiless iron. I left the cabin, through which the sh.e.l.ls were pouring, and descended to the lower deck. It was no better there than above. We were increasing the distance between ourselves and the Rebels, and the shot began to strike lower down. Nearly every shot raked the lower deck.

A loose plank on which I stood was split for more than half its length, by a shot which struck my foot when its force was nearly spent. Though the skin was not abraded, and no bones were broken, I felt the effect of the blow for several weeks.

I lay down upon the deck. A moment after I had taken my horizontal position, two men who lay against me were mortally wounded by a sh.e.l.l.

The right leg of one was completely severed below the knee. This sh.e.l.l was the last projectile that struck the forward portion of the boat.

With a handkerchief loosely tied and twisted with a stick, I endeavored to stop the flow of blood from the leg of the wounded man.

I was partially successful, but the stoppage of blood could not save the man's life. He died within the hour.

Forty-two shot and sh.e.l.l struck the boat. The escape-pipe was severed where it pa.s.sed between two state-rooms, and filled the cabin with steam. The safe in the captain's office was perforated as if it had been made of wood. A trunk was broken by a sh.e.l.l, and its contents were scattered upon the floor. Splinters had fallen in the cabin, and were spread thickly upon the carpet. Every person who escaped uninjured had his own list of incidents to narrate.

Out of about fifty persons on board the _Von Phul_ at the time of this occurrence, twelve were killed or wounded. One of the last projectiles that struck the boat, injured a boiler sufficiently to allow the escape of steam. In ten minutes our engines moved very feebly. We were forced to "tie up" to the eastern bank of the river. We were by this time out of range of the Rebel battery. The _Neosho_ had opened fire, and by the time we made fast to the bank, the Rebels were in retreat.

The _Neosho_ ceased firing and moved to our relief. Before she reached us, the steamer _Atlantic_ came in sight, descending the river.

We hailed her, and she came alongside. Immediately on learning our condition, her captain offered to tow the _Von Phul_ to Red River, twenty miles distant. There we could lie, under protection of the gun-boats, and repair the damages to our machinery. We accepted his offer at once.

I can hardly imagine a situation of greater helplessness, than a place on board a Western pa.s.senger-steamer under the guns of a hostile battery. A battle-field is no comparison. On solid earth the princ.i.p.al danger is from projectiles. You can fight, or, under some circ.u.mstances, can run away. On a Mississippi transport, you are equally in danger of being shot. Added to this, you may be struck by splinters, scalded by steam, burned by fire, or drowned in the water.

You cannot fight, you cannot run away, and you cannot find shelter.

With no power for resistance or escape, the sense of danger and helplessness cannot be set aside.

A few weeks after the occurrence just narrated, the steamer _Brazil_, on her way from Vicksburg to Natchez, was fired upon by a Rebel battery near Rodney, Mississippi. The boat was struck a half-dozen times by shot and sh.e.l.l. More than a hundred rifle-bullets were thrown on board. Three persons were killed and as many wounded.

Among those killed on the _Brazil_, was a young woman who had engaged to take charge of a school for negro children at Natchez. The Rebel sympathizers at Natchez displayed much gratification at her death. On several occasions I heard some of the more pious among them declare that the hand of G.o.d directed the fatal missile. They prophesied violent or sudden deaths to all who came to the South on a similar mission.

The steamer _Black Hawk_ was fired upon by a Rebel battery at the mouth of Red River. The boat ran aground in range of the enemy's guns.

A sh.e.l.l set her pilot-house on fire, and several persons were killed in the cabin.

Strange to say, though aground and on fire under a Rebel battery, the _Black Hawk_ was saved. By great exertions on the part of officers and crew, the fire was extinguished after the pilot-house was burned away.

A temporary steering apparatus was rigged, and the boat moved from the shoal where she had grounded. She was a full half hour within range of the Rebel guns.

CHAPTER XLV.

THE ARMY CORRESPONDENT.

The Beginning and the End.--The Lake Erie Piracy.--A Rochester Story.--The First War Correspondent,--Napoleon's Policy.--Waterloo and the Rothschilds.--Journalistic Enterprise in the Mexican War.--The Crimea and the East Indian Rebellion.--Experiences at the Beginning of Hostilities.--The Tender Mercies of the Insurgents.--In the Field.--Adventures in Missouri and Kentucky.--Correspondents in Captivity.--How Battle-Accounts were Written.--Professional Complaints.

Having lain aside my pen while engaged in planting cotton and entertaining guerrillas, I resumed it on coming North, after that experiment was finished. Setting aside my capture in New Hamps.h.i.+re, narrated in the first chapter, my adventures in the field commenced in Missouri in the earliest campaign. Singularly enough, they terminated on our Northern border. In the earlier days of the Rebellion, it was the jest of the correspondents, that they would, some time, find occasion to write war-letters from the Northern cities. The jest became a reality in the siege of Cincinnati. During that siege we wondered whether it would be possible to extend our labors to Detroit or Mackinaw.

In September, 1864, the famous "Lake Erie Piracy" occurred. I was in Cleveland when the news of the seizure of the _Philo Parsons_ was announced by telegraph, and at once proceeded to Detroit. The capture of the _Parsons_ was a very absurd movement on the part of the Rebels, who had taken refuge in Canada. The original design was, doubtless, the capture of the gun-boat _Michigan_, and the release of the prisoners on Johnson's Island. The captors of the _Parsons_ had confederates in Sandusky, who endeavored to have the _Michigan_ in a half-disabled condition when the _Parsons_ arrived. This was not accomplished, and the scheme fell completely through. The two small steamers, the _Parsons_ and _Island Queen_, were abandoned after being in Rebel hands only a few hours.

The officers of the _Parsons_ told an interesting story of their seizure. Mr. Ashley, the clerk, said the boat left Detroit for Sandusky at her usual hour. She had a few pa.s.sengers from Detroit, and received others at various landings. The last party that came on board brought an old trunk bound with ropes. The different parties did not recognize each other, not even when drinking at the bar. When near Kelly's Island in Lake Erie, the various officers of the steamer were suddenly seized. The ropes on the trunk were cut, the lid flew open, and a quant.i.ty of revolvers and hatchets was brought to light.

The pirates declared they were acting in the interest of the "Confederacy." They relieved Mr. Ashley of his pocket-book and contents, and appropriated the money they found in the safe. Those of the pa.s.sengers who were not "in the ring," were compelled to contribute to the representatives of the Rebel Government. This little affair was claimed to be "belligerent" throughout. At Kelly's Island the pa.s.sengers and crew were liberated on parole not to take up arms against the Confederacy until properly exchanged.

After cruising in front of Sandusky, and failing to receive signals which they expected, the pirates returned to Canada with their prize.

One of their "belligerent" acts was to throw overboard the cargo of the _Parsons_, together with most of her furniture. At Sandwich, near Detroit, they left the boat, after taking ash.o.r.e a piano and other articles. Her Majesty's officer of customs took possession of this stolen property, on the ground that it was brought into Canada without the proper permits from the custom-house. It was subsequently recovered by its owners.

The St. Albans raid, which occurred a few months later, was a similar act of belligerency. It created more excitement than the Lake Erie piracy, but the questions involved were practically the same. That the Rebels had a right of asylum in Canada no one could deny, but there was a difference of opinion respecting the proper limits to those rights. The Rebels hoped to involve us in a controversy with England, that should result in the recognition of the Confederacy. This was frequently avowed by some of the indiscreet refugees.

After the capture of the _Parsons_ and the raid upon St. Albans, the Canadian authorities sent a strong force of militia to watch the frontier. A battalion of British regulars was stationed at Windsor, opposite Detroit, early in 1864, but was removed to the interior before the raids occurred. The authorities a.s.signed as a reason for this removal, the desire to concentrate their forces at some central point. The real reason was the rapid desertion of their men, allured by the high pay and opportunity of active service in our army. In two months the battalion at Windsor was reduced fifteen per cent, by desertions alone.

Shortly after the St. Albans raid, a paper in Rochester announced a visit to that city by a cricket-club from Toronto. The paragraph was written somewhat obscurely, and jestingly spoke of the Toronto men as "raiders." The paper reached New York, and so alarmed the authorities that troops were at once ordered to Rochester and other points on the frontier. The misapprehension was discovered in season to prevent the actual moving of the troops.

With the suppression of the Rebellion the mission of the war correspondent was ended. Let us all hope that his services will not again be required, in this country, at least, during the present century. The publication of the reports of battles, written on the field, and frequently during the heat of an engagement, was a marked feature of the late war. "Our Special Correspondent" is not, however, an invention belonging to this important era of our history.

His existence dates from the days of the Greeks and Romans. If Homer had witnessed the battles which he described, he would, doubtless, be recognized as the earliest war correspondent. Xenophon was the first regular correspondent of which we have any record. He achieved an enduring fame, which is a just tribute to the man and his profession.

During the Middle Ages, the Crusades afforded fine opportunities for the war correspondents to display their abilities. The prevailing ignorance of those times is shown in the absence of any reliable accounts of the Holy Wars, written by journalists on the field. There was no daily press, and the mail communications were very unreliable.

Down to the nineteenth century, Xenophon had no formidable compet.i.tors for the honors which attached to his name.

The elder Napoleon always acted as his own "Special." His bulletins, by rapid post to Paris, were generally the first tidings of his brilliant marches and victories. His example was thought worthy of imitation by several military officials during the late Rebellion.

Rear-Admiral Porter essayed to excel Napoleon in sending early reports of battles for public perusal. "I have the honor to inform the Department," is a formula with which most editors and printers became intimately acquainted. The admiral's veracity was not as conspicuous as his eagerness to push his reports in print.

At Waterloo there was no regular correspondent of the London press.

Several volunteer writers furnished accounts of the battle for publication, whose accuracy has been called in question. Wellington's official dispatches were outstripped by the enterprise of a London banking-house. The Rothschilds knew the result of the battle eight hours before Wellington's courier arrived.

Carrier pigeons were used to convey the intelligence. During the Rebellion, Wall Street speculators endeavored to imitate the policy of the Rothschilds, but were only partially successful.

In the war between Mexico and the United States, "Our Special" was actively, though not extensively, employed. On one occasion, _The Herald_ obtained its news in advance of the official dispatches to the Government. The magnetic telegraph was then unknown. Horse-flesh and steam were the only means of transmitting intelligence. If we except the New Orleans _Picayune, The Herald_ was the only paper represented in Mexico during the campaigns of Scott and Taylor.