t of water in the
channel. Twenty-five able-bodied negroes were taken from a neighboring
plantation, stretched in a line across the river, and ordered to wade
against the current. By keeping their steamer, which drew only twenty
inches, directly behind the negro who sank the deepest, the soldiers
took their prize to Little Rock without difficulty.

For ten years previous to the outbreak of the Rebellion, steamboating
on the Mississippi was in the height of its glory. Where expense
of construction and management were of secondary consideration, the
steamboats on the great river could offer challenge to the world.
It was the boast of their officers that the tables of the great
passenger-boats were better supplied than those of the best hotels in
the South. On many steamers, claret, at dinner, was free to all. Fruit
and ices were distributed in the evening, as well as choice cups
of coffee and tea. On one line of boats, the cold meats on the
supper-table were from carefully selected pieces, cooked and cooled
expressly for the cenatory meal. Bands of music enlivened the hours
of day, and afforded opportunity for dancing in the evening. Spacious
cabins, unbroken by machinery; guards of great width, where cigars and
small-talk were enjoyed; well-furnished and well-lighted state-rooms,
and tables loaded with all luxuries of the place and season, rendered
these steamers attractive to the traveler. Passengers were social,
and partook of the gayety around them. Men talked, drank, smoked, and
sometimes gambled, according to their desires. The ladies practiced no
frigid reserve toward each other, but established cordial relations in
the first few hours of each journey.

Among the many fine and fast steamers on the Western waters, there
was necessarily much competition in speed. Every new boat of the first
class was obliged to give an example of her abilities soon after her
appearance. Every owner of a steamboat contends that _his_ boat is the
best afloat. I have rarely been on board a Mississippi steamer of
any pretensions whose captain has not assured me, "She is the fastest
thing afloat, sir. Nothing can pass her. We have beaten the--, and
the--, and the--, in a fair race, sir." To a stranger, seeking correct
information, the multiplicity of these statements is perplexing.

In 1853 there was a race from New Orleans to Louisville, between the
steamers _Eclipse_ and _A.L. Shotwell_, on which seventy thousand
dollars were staked