Forty Years a Gambler on the Mississippi

by George H. Devol

IT MADE A MAN OF HIM.

"Yet fondly we ourselves deceive,
And empty hopes pursue;
Though false to others, we believe
She will to us prove true."

On my way up the river on board the old steamer Natchez (the boat that was burned up during the war), I won some money and a check for $4,000 on the Louisiana State Bank of New Orleans. The check was signed by one of the largest planters on the coast, and I knew it was good if presented before payment was stopped; so I took passage on the Mary Kean (one of the fastest boats on the river), bound for New Orleans. We landed in the city about 4 o'clock Monday morning. I got a cab to take me down to the French market to get a cup of coffee before going to my room. As I was passing the St. Louis Hotel on my way from the market, I saw a man that I recognized as hailing from Cincinnati (I will not give his name). He appeared to be glad to see me; but I could see he was not at his ease, so after a little while I thought I would sound him, so I said, "What was that trouble you got into in Cincinnati?" He looked at me in surprise, and said: "How did you hear about it?" (there was no telegraph line from Cincinnati to New Orleans in those days). I told him it was all right, and he could trust me. I invited him to take breakfast with me; he accepted the invitation, and told me he would tell me about himself when we were in a more private place. After breakfast, we walked over to the bank, and I drew the $4,000 on the planter's check; then we went to my room, and he told me his story. He was a bookkeeper for a large pork house; became infatuated with a gay married woman, made false entries, and finally ran away with the enticing married woman. I advised him to put on a disguise, for I knew the police would soon be looking for him. He invited me to go with him and see his lady love, for said he, "She is one of the truest and best women in the world." I went with him, and met a very fine looking lady. I did not blame him very much for being infatuated; but I wondered how much money he did get away with, and how am I going to get my share; for I always felt that it was my duty (as an honest man) to win stolen money. I soon found out he had about $8,000 of other people's money, and I wanted it. I first taught him to play poker, so he could be in with me the first time we caught a sucker. I got Clark to play the part, and he beat us out of $6,000, most of which was "pork money." "The best and truest woman in the world" ran off with another fellow, which little thing nearly broke my young friend's heart; but in a short time he went to Galveston, Texas, got into a large cotton house, and the last time I saw him he said, "George, we live and learn. That little game made a man of me."

THE COTTON MAN.

My partner and I were waiting at the mouth of Red River for a boat to take us to New Orleans. There was a man who had twelve bales of cotton on the wharf, and he was also waiting for a boat. I told my partner to get acquainted with him, and to keep away from me. The result was that they were good friends when a boat arrived. We all took passage, the cotton was loaded, and we were on our way. I opened up the three-card racket; my partner won $100, and then the cotton man was crazy, for he did not have any money to bet. My partner told him he would loan him some on his cotton. They went to the clerk, who made out a bill of sale for the twelve bales. He got the money, and then he was happy, for he was sure of doubling it with me. He was happy but for a short time. I had all his money, and my partner had all of his cotton, so he (being a good friend) let him have some money to pay his expenses. He did not remain long, so the cost was not very heavy. The cotton was worth about 12½ cents per pound at that time, but during the war it was many times that price. I was never very much stuck on cotton, as it was too bulky to get away with in case you had to leave a boat in a hurry.

TAUGHT A LESSON.

I was playing poker with a man, who, after I had broke him, went to a gentleman friend of his and promised him twenty-five dollars for the loan of $500 until he got home. As he was worth a great deal of money, his friend loaned him the $500. After he got a new stake, he came to me and wanted to renew the play. I had played a square game, and, believing him to be a gentleman, I sat down to play the same way; but I soon saw he thought himself a better player than myself, so I lit into the new stake, and it was not long until I had him broke again. Then he went to the Captain and set up a great kick. The Captain said to him, "If you had won the money, would you have given it back?" He said, "Captain, I give you my word of honor that I would." "Then," says the Captain, "why did you pay twenty-five dollars for the loan of the money?" "Oh," says he, "I only wanted to teach him a lesson." "Well," says the Captain, "if you pay twenty-five dollars every time you want to teach such men as he is a lesson, you will soon get broke. I can't do anything for you, my fine fellow."

The passengers laughed at him, and some called him "a good teacher" (and that broke him all up). He soon sneaked off to his room, and that was the last I saw of my teacher.

SINKING OF THE BELLE ZANE.

I was a passenger on the steamer Belle Zane during the winter season, and navigation was expected to be closed soon, as the river was full of floating ice. We had a large number of passengers on board, and were getting along very well until we left the Ohio. We had left Cairo, and were steaming down the Mississippi, when the boat struck a snag, and in a very short time had sunk down to the cabin. It was about four o'clock in the morning, but I was up (as usual). We had the passengers out of their rooms in quick time, and got them up on the roof in their night clothes, as there was no time for them to dress. In a few moments the cabin separated from the deck, floated off, and then sank down until we were standing in the ice and water nearly knee deep. It was a terrible sight; such a one as I hope and pray I may never see again. Men, women, and children standing amid the floating ice nearly frozen to death, and expecting every moment to sink into a watery grave. Some were screaming for help, others were praying, while others stood as if they were lost. I caught up one poor woman, who was nearly frozen to death, and held her in my arms above the water. Others did the same, while the crew and some of the passengers tore the boards off the pilot-house, and tried to paddle the wreck to shore. We floated down until we struck a point. The men that were doing the paddling jumped off onto the shore, and then held on to the wreck until they swung it around into an eddy. We got all the passengers off, but it was about a mile to the nearest house. We were all nearly freezing, and there was not one of us that did not have our feet frozen. We had no fire, nor any way to make one. Some of us who were lucky enough to have coats took them off, and wrapped up the women and children. We then took them to a house that was about a mile distant, and the good people did all in their power to make us comfortable. The news reached Cairo, and they sent a boat, with blankets, provisions, and medical aid to our relief. Three or four men jumped overboard, and tried to swim ashore, but got chilled, and were drowned. Some of the women were frozen so badly that they did not survive. I feel the effect in my feet to this day, and the accident happened over thirty years ago.