June 21.—I visited the earthworks at the end of the levee. Colonel Waagner was ill with the usual camp diarrhœa, but he would insist on getting up and showing me his performance. He has fought in many hard fields in Europe, served in the Hungarian war, and accompanied Kossuth to the United States. His right-hand man, Lieutenant O’Leary, was formerly a petty officer in the British navy, served in the Furious in the Black Sea, and was in the Shannon Brigade, under the ever-to-be-deplored sailor who led them to the relief of Lucknow, and finally to the reduction of that ill-starred city. Mr. O’Leary told me he was not much credited here when he recounted the manner in which Sir William Peel taught his sailors to toss about 68-pounders as if they were field-pieces. The work I found to be rather “crowded” with guns, but it gives promise of such strength as to enable the occupants to command both rivers effectually. The armament is quite adequate to all purposes, and consists of one 8-inch howitzer, two 24-pounders, two 32-pounders, and some lighter guns, the whole being dominated by a 10-inch columbiad in the centre, on a circular traversing slide, not yet mounted. The magazine is well made and lighted; it is the safest and best I have seen in the States. The practice I saw with a field-piece from the work, at a small target 500 yards off, in order to try ricochet fire, was by no means bad, and would have speedily sunk a boat in the line of fire. Whenever a steamer is made out approaching Cairo a gun is fired from one or other of the ports. The steamer then gives the private signal agreed upon, and if she does not answer, is fired upon and brought to by round shot.
In the evening, as I was walking up and down the levee after a day of exhausting heat, an extraordinary tumult attracted my attention, and on running to the hotel, whence the noise proceeded, I discovered a whole regiment drawn up two deep without arms, and shouting out in chorus, “Water! water! water!” The officers were powerless, but presently General Prentiss came round the corner, and mounting on a railing proceeded to address the soldiery in energetic terms, but in substance his remonstrance would have been considered, in a French or English army, as much a breach of discipline as the act it had censured. These men had broken out of barracks after hours, forced their officers and the sentries, and came up shouting to the head-quarters of their general to complain of a deficiency of water. The general addressed them as “gentlemen.” It was not his fault they wanted water. It was their officers who were to blame, not he. He would see they had water, and would punish the contractor, but they must not come disturbing him, by their outcries at night. Their conduct was demoralizing to themselves, and to their comrades. Having rated the “gentlemen” soundly, he ordered them back to their quarters. They gave three cheers for the general, and retired in regular line of march with their officers. The fact was, that the men on returning from a hot and thirsty drill, found the water-barrels, which ought to have been filled by the contractor, empty, and not for the first time, and so they took the quartermaster’s business into their own hands. Their officers did not wish to be very strict, and why? The term of the men’s voluntary service is nearly over, they have not yet been enrolled for the service of the state; therefore, if they were aggrieved they might be disposed to disband, and not renew their engagements, and so the officers would be left without any regiment to offer to the state. But they went off in an orderly manner, and General Prentiss, though much annoyed by the occurrence, understands volunteers better than we do. There is no doubt but that the quartermasters’ department is in a bad condition in both armies. Mr. Forstall has proposed to the Southern authorities to hang any contractor who may be detected cheating. There would probably be few contractors left if the process were carried into effect at the North. The medical department is better in the Northern than in the Southern armies. But even here there is not an ambulance, a cacolet, or a mule litter. When General Scott made his first requisition for troops and money, or rather when he gave in his estimate of the probable requirements to carry on the war, I hear the ministers laughed at his demands. They would be very glad now to condone for the original figures. Little do they, North or South, know what war must cost in money, in life, in misery. Already they are suffering, but it is but a tithe of what is to come, for the life and misery have not been expended and felt. In the Memphis papers two days ago I saw a notification that drafts would be issued by the magistrates to families left in distress by the departure of their heads and supports to the seat of war. In the Cairo papers to-day I observe an appeal to the authorities to do something to aid the citizens reduced to pauperism by the utter stagnation of trade.
Saturday, June 22, 1861.
The information which Brigadier-General Prentiss received, of movements on the part of the Missouri secessionists, induced him, in pursuance, I presume, of instructions from the head-quarters of his district, or, possibly, on his own responsibility, to send out an expedition secretly this afternoon to break up their camp, and disperse or make them prisoners. It is in that sort of guerrilla enterprises that much of the time and strength of the federalists will be consumed. A good map of the States may fail to show the little village of Commerce, on the Mississippi, but it is about sixteen miles east of the town of Benton, and is about two hours’ steaming from Cairo. Here the Confederates, or “rebels,” as they are called in my present latitude, have collected in two or three small camps, in numbers to which report adds and deducts ciphers at pleasure. But General Prentiss does not think they can be over a few hundred men, judging from the force he sent against them. It is supposed these bands are the debris of Governor Jackson’s followers, who have been encouraged by promises of support from Memphis, to assemble as rallying centres for the secessionists of Missouri, who would, no doubt, collect in considerable numbers if they were permitted, and would summon their defeated governor, now an exile in Arkansas, to their head. But the position they occupy is very important in a strategical sense, as it commands the Mississippi above Cairo, and if they succeeded in getting a few guns, they could stop the navigation of the river, and cause serious embarrassment to the right flank and rear of the federalists posted on the junction of that river with the Ohio, as well as neutralizing the work at Bird’s Point. In despite of their great violence of speech, the secessionists, like other men in most parts of the world, abate their rage in the presence of armed force—inter arma silent; and the process which is going on in Missouri may be equally successful if it can be applied elsewhere. Any way, the results must show the government at Washington, that if they could have acted on the same principles elsewhere they would now be in a very different position. The outcry which would have been raised against them could not be louder or stronger than it is at present. Why, Cairo itself was a centre of disaffection and secession till the Illinois volunteers occupied it militarily with artillery and a strong force of infantry! For days they were threatened with an attack, and were subjected to abuse and insults. All that has died away, and outwardly, at least, Cairo is Unionist, although Southern Illinois is by no means of the same mind, and General Prentiss finds it necessary to station troops along the railroad, at the bridges, to prevent any playful pranks in sawing the timbers or setting them on fire.
It was nearly dusk before the expedition started. It consisted of about seven hundred men and one six-pounder field-piece, under the command of Colonel Morgan, an officer who saw service during the Mexican war, and who has the reputation—I should think well-deserved—of being a skilful, brave, and prudent officer. I saw the companies paraded, and I must say their appearance was most creditable to the officers and the men themselves. Making allowance for diversity of arms and uniform, company by company, they were well set up, stout, powerful, infantry-looking, cheerful, and full of confidence, and among them were many old soldiers, particularly Germans and Hungarians. The field-pieces were very well horsed, probably provided with tumbril, spare wheel, and a full compliment of well-equipped gunners. As they marched on board the huge river steamer—a Pelion of light carpentry on an Ossa of engines and boilers—the men cheered in the old English style, and gave three thundering “hurrahs” as the steamer backed out and set her bow against the stream. But now comes what seemed to me a little of the recklessness and want of foresight, or, at least, of precaution, which has been evident in more than one of the federalist expeditions, with the usual consequences of disaster and loss. These men and horses and the gun were put on board this big tinder-box, all fire and touchwood. One small boat, capable of carrying a dozen men at most, hung at her stern. Imagine an explosion, and her engines are high-pressure; a shot from a masked gun into her boiler, and her boilers are exposed; even heavy musketry fire opened suddenly from the wooden bank on the beehive-like deck, where the solitary gun could scarcely be worked, and the men could not be landed, and see what a catastrophe might ensue. To use a homely simile, there were “too many eggs in one basket.” And there was no necessity for doing this, inasmuch as many steamers lay at the disposal of the authorities, and the steamer could easily have towed up flats or boats for the gun and men. A handful of horsemen would have been admirable to move in advance, feel the covers, and make prisoners for political or other purposes in case of flight; but the Americans persist in ignoring the use of horsemen, or at least in depreciating it, though they will at last find that they may shed much blood, and lose much more, before they can gain a great victory without the aid of artillery and charges after the retreating enemy. From the want of cavalry, I suppose it is, the unmilitary practice of “scouting,” as it is called here, has arisen. It is all very well in the days of Indian wars for footmen to creep about in the bushes and shoot or be shot by sentries and pickets; but no civilized war, if there be such a thing at all in civil conflicts, recognizes such means of annoyance as firing upon sentinels, unless in case of an actual advance or feigned attack on the line. No camp can be safe without cavalry videttes and pickets, for the enemy can pour in impetuously after the alarm has been given, as fast as the outlying footmen can run in. In feeling the way for a column, cavalry are invaluable, and there can be little chance of ambuscades or surprises where they are judiciously employed; but “scouting” on foot, or adventurous private expeditions on horseback, to have a look at the enemy, can do, and will do, nothing but harm. Every day the papers contain accounts of “scouts” being killed, and sentries being picked off. The latter is a very barbarous and savage practice; and the Russian, in his most angry moments, abstained from it. If any officer wishes to obtain information as to his enemy, he has two ways of doing it. He can employ spies, who carry their lives in their hands, or he can beat up their quarters by a proper reconnoissance on his own responsibility, in which, however, it would be advisable not to trust his force to a railway train. In talking to General Prentiss, this evening, I was informed that the enemies’ spies visit Cairo every day. Strict precautions are used to prevent access to the camps—a close chain of sentries is posted all around, and in the day a pass is necessary for admittance, unless one belongs to the force, and at night no one is admitted without the countersign. An Irish gentleman, who had been evincing his satisfaction at the receipt of his wages more Hibernico, just now attempted to get past us—“Who goes there?” “A friend—shure you know I’m a friend!” “Advance three paces and give the countersign.” The gentleman approached, but was brought up by the bayonet. “Send for the captain, and he’ll give you the word bedad.” The intercession was unnecessary, for two policemen came up in hot pursuit, and the general, who was sitting by, ordered the guard to deliver their prisoner to the civil power. For some extraordinary reason this act moved the prisoner to the greatest gratitude, and, taking off his cap, he exclaimed, “Thank you, general; long life to you. Indeed, general, I’m greatly obliged to you on this account.” Another sentry who challenged an officer in the usual way, was asked by him, “Do you know the countersign yourself?” “Indeed I don’t, sir; it’s not nine o’clock, and they havn’t given it out yet.” A very tolerable military band played outside the hotel in the evening, and I was pleased to see the quiet manner in which the bystanders, of all ranks, sat down in the chairs as they were vacant, close to the general, without any intrusion or any sense of impropriety arising from their difference in rank.
June 22.—The expedition had not returned at four this evening when I 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 5s. 2d., 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.