"Yes, sir; that was a plucky fight. The old gentleman never would have given in if there had been the least ray of hope; but there was none. And he was too tender-hearted to needlessly slaughter his men."
Three days previous to our visit to the Essex, two Rebel boats came up from Columbus to see what the Yankees were doing. In five minutes Porter had his anchor up and steam on, pushing down to meet them half-way; but they declined the courtesy, and steamed back to Columbus.
"I followed them as fast as I could," said he, as we paced the deck. "I let them have my ten-inch Dahlgren and my two rifled forty-two pounders one after another, and drove them till their batteries on the bluff above the town opened on me. Then I wrote an invitation to Montgomery, who commands their fleet, to meet me any day and I would lick him like thunder. I fastened it to a cork and set it adrift, and saw a boat go out and pick it up. Then I elevated my ten-inch and let them have a shell right into the town. I reckon it waked them up some."
He laughed and chuckled, rubbed his hands, took a fresh quid of tobacco, and began to talk again of his father's exploits on the Pacific.
The Rebels under Major-General Bishop Polk were in force at Columbus. There was also a detachment at Mayfield, east of Columbus. A sudden movement was made by General Grant in the direction of Mayfield, not with any design of an attack, but to deceive the Rebels in regard to the real intentions. The troops landed at old Fort Jefferson, six miles below Cairo, on the Kentucky side. It was a mild day in midwinter. The soldiers marched without baggage. Not one in ten had gloves or mittens; and on the second night of the reconnoissance the cold became intense, and there was great suffering.
The soldiers kindled huge fires, and by running and walking, and constant thrashing of the hands, passed the long, weary night. There were numerous herds of swine in the woods, and fresh pork was abundant. There was roasting, frying, and broiling by every bivouac fire, and a savory fragrance of sparerib and steak.
The dwellings of the farmers in this section of Kentucky are of the Southern style of architecture,—log-houses containing two rooms, with chimneys built against the ends. Entering one to obtain a drink of water we found two tall, cadaverous young men, both of them shaking with ague. There was a large old-fashioned fireplace, with a great roaring fire, before which they were sitting with the door wide open at their backs, and the cold air rushing upon them in torrents. Probably it did not occur to either of them that it would be better to shut the door.
A Connecticut wooden clock ticked on a rude shelf, a bed stood in one corner. The walls were hung with old clothes and dried herbs,—catnip and tansy and thoroughwort. The clay had dropped out in many places, and we could look through the chinks and see the landscape without. The foundations of the chimney had settled, and the structure was leaning away from the house. There were great cracks between the brickwork and the wood.
They claimed to be good Union men, but said that all the rest of the people round them were disloyal.
"We are having a hard time," said one. "The Secessionists were going to jump us,—to take our property because we were for the Union, and now your army has come and killed nigh about seventy-five hogs for us, I reckon. It is kinder hard, stranger, to be used so."