by the farm of our friend, and Crenshaw shot him through the head.
We took out his entrails and sunk him in the creek.
‘He had sold the other negro the third time on Arkansaw River for upwards
of five hundred dollars; and then stole him and delivered him into the hand
of his friend, who conducted him to a swamp, and veiled the tragic scene,
and got the last gleanings and sacred pledge of secrecy; as a game of that
kind will not do unless it ends in a mystery to all but the fraternity.
He sold the negro, first and last, for nearly two thousand dollars,
and then put him for ever out of the reach of all pursuers; and they can
never graze him unless they can find the negro; and that they cannot do,
for his carcass has fed many a tortoise and catfish before this time,
and the frogs have sung this many a long day to the silent repose
of his skeleton.’
We were approaching Memphis, in front of which city, and witnessed by
its people, was fought the most famous of the river battles of the Civil War.
Two men whom I had served under, in my river days, took part in that fight:
Mr. Bixby, head pilot of the Union fleet, and Montgomery, Commodore of the
Confederate fleet. Both saw a great deal of active service during the war,
and achieved high reputations for pluck and capacity.
As we neared Memphis, we began to cast about for an excuse to stay
with the ‘Gold Dust’ to the end of her course–Vicksburg. We were
so pleasantly situated, that we did not wish to make a change.
I had an errand of considerable importance to do at Napoleon, Arkansas,
but perhaps I could manage it without quitting the ‘Gold Dust.’
I said as much; so we decided to stick to present quarters.
The boat was to tarry at Memphis till ten the next morning. It is a
beautiful city, nobly situated on a commanding bluff overlooking the river.
The streets are straight and spacious, though not paved in a way to incite
distempered admiration. No, the admiration must be reserved for the town’s
sewerage system, which is called perfect; a recent reform, however, for it
was just the other way, up to a few years ago–a reform resulting from
the lesson taught by a desolating visitation of the yellow-fever. In
those awful days the people were swept off by hundreds, by thousands;
and so great was the reduction caused by flight and by death together,
that the population was diminished three-fourths, and so remained for a time.
Business stood nearly still, and the streets bore an empty Sunday aspect.
Here is a picture of Memphis, at that disastrous time,
drawn by a German tourist who seems to have been an eye-witness
of the scenes which he describes. It is from Chapter VII,
of his book, just published, in Leipzig, ‘Mississippi-Fahrten, von
Ernst von Hesse-Wartegg.’–
‘In August the yellow-fever had reached its extremest height.
Daily, hundreds fell a sacrifice to the terrible epidemic.
The city was become a mighty graveyard, two-thirds of the population
had deserted the place, and only the poor, the aged and the sick,
remained behind, a sure prey for the insidious enemy.
The houses were closed: little lamps burned in front of many–
a sign that here death had entered. Often, several lay
dead in a single house; from the windows hung black crape.
The stores were shut up, for their owners were gone away or dead.
‘Fearful evil! In the briefest space it struck down and swept away
even the most vigorous victim. A slight indisposition, then an hour
of fever, then the hideous delirium, then–the Yellow Death !
On the street corners, and in the squares, lay sick men, suddenly overtaken
by the disease; and even corpses, distorted and rigid. Food failed.
Meat spoiled in a few hours in the fetid and pestiferous air,
and turned black.
‘Fearful clamors issue from many houses; then after a season
they cease, and all is still: noble, self-sacrificing men come
with the coffin, nail it up, and carry it away, to the graveyard.