TALK began to run upon the war now,for we were getting down into the upper edge of the former battle-stretch by this time.
Columbus was just behind us,so there was a good deal said about the famous battle of Belmont.Several of the boat's officers had seen active service in the Mississippi war-fleet.Igathered that they found themselves sadly out of their element in that kind of business at first,but afterward got accustomed to it,reconciled to it,and more or less at home in it.
One of our pilots had his first war experience in the Belmont fight,as a pilot on a boat in the Confederate service.
I had often had a curiosity to know how a green hand might feel,in his maiden battle,perched all solitary and alone on high in a pilot house,a target for Tom,Dick and Harry,and nobody at his elbow to shame him from showing the white feather when matters grew hot and perilous around him;so,to me his story was valuable--it filled a gap for me which all histories had left till that time empty.
THE PILOT'S FIRST BATTLE
He said--
It was the 7th of November.The fight began at seven in the morning.
I was on the 'R.H.W.Hill.'Took over a load of troops from Columbus.
Came back,and took over a battery of artillery.My partner said he was going to see the fight;wanted me to go along.I said,no,I wasn't anxious,I would look at it from the pilot-house.He said I was a coward,and left.
That fight was an awful sight.General Cheatham made his men strip their coats off and throw them in a pile,and said,'Now follow me to hell or victory!'I heard him say that from the pilot-house;and then he galloped in,at the head of his troops.Old General Pillow,with his white hair,mounted on a white horse,sailed in,too,leading his troops as lively as a boy.By and by the Federals chased the rebels back,and here they came!tearing along,everybody for himself and Devil take the hindmost!and down under the bank they scrambled,and took shelter.
I was sitting with my legs hanging out of the pilot-house window.
All at once I noticed a whizzing sound passing my ear.
Judged it was a bullet.I didn't stop to think about anything,I just tilted over backwards and landed on the floor,and staid there.
The balls came booming around.Three cannon-balls went through the chimney;one ball took off the corner of the pilot-house;shells were screaming and bursting all around.Mighty warm times--I wished I hadn't come.
I lay there on the pilot-house floor,while the shots came faster and faster.
I crept in behind the big stove,in the middle of the pilot-house.
Presently a minie-ball came through the stove,and just grazed my head,and cut my hat.I judged it was time to go away from there.The captain was on the roof with a red-headed major from Memphis--a fine-looking man.
I heard him say he wanted to leave here,but 'that pilot is killed.'
I crept over to the starboard side to pull the bell to set her back;raised up and took a look,and I saw about fifteen shot holes through the window panes;had come so lively I hadn't noticed them.
I glanced out on the water,and the spattering shot were like a hailstorm.
I thought best to get out of that place.I went down the pilot-house guy,head first--not feet first but head first--slid down--before I struck the deck,the captain said we must leave there.So I climbed up the guy and got on the floor again.About that time,they collared my partner and were bringing him up to the pilot-house between two soldiers.
Somebody had said I was killed.He put his head in and saw me on the floor reaching for the backing bells.He said,'Oh,hell,he ain't shot,'and jerked away from the men who had him by the collar,and ran below.
We were there until three o'clock in the afternoon,and then got away all right.
The next time I saw my partner,I said,'Now,come out,be honest,and tell me the truth.Where did you go when you went to see that battle?'
He says,'I went down in the hold.'
All through that fight I was scared nearly to death.
I hardly knew anything,I was so frightened;but you see,nobody knew that but me.Next day General Polk sent for me,and praised me for my bravery and gallant conduct.
I never said anything,I let it go at that.I judged it wasn't so,but it was not for me to contradict a general officer.
Pretty soon after that I was sick,and used up,and had to go off to the Hot Springs.When there,I got a good many letters from commanders saying they wanted me to come back.
I declined,because I wasn't well enough or strong enough;but I kept still,and kept the reputation I had made.
A plain story,straightforwardly told;but Mumford told me that that pilot had 'gilded that scare of his,in spots;'that his subsequent career in the war was proof of it.
We struck down through the chute of Island No.8,and I went below and fell into conversation with a passenger,a handsome man,with easy carriage and an intelligent face.We were approaching Island No.10,a place so celebrated during the war.
This gentleman's home was on the main shore in its neighborhood.
I had some talk with him about the war times;but presently the discourse fell upon 'feuds,'for in no part of the South has the vendetta flourished more briskly,or held out longer between warring families,than in this particular region.
This gentleman said--
'There's been more than one feud around here,in old times,but Ireckon the worst one was between the Darnells and the Watsons.
Nobody don't know now what the first quarrel was about,it's so long ago;the Darnells and the Watsons don't know,if there's any of them living,which I don't think there is.Some says it was about a horse or a cow--anyway,it was a little matter;the money in it wasn't of no consequence--none in the world--both families was rich.The thing could have been fixed up,easy enough;but no,that wouldn't do.Rough words had been passed;and so,nothing but blood could fix it up after that.That horse or cow,whichever it was,cost sixty years of killing and crippling!
