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A
gentleman, who was an eye-witness to the fact
he
relates, thus refers
to
the perils
of
cotton bales on their pilgrimage from the plantation to the nearest Indian port.
This port may probably be distant 1000 miles ; and
if
the owner
of
the cotton live
sufficientiv
near to some river station on the Ganges, after getting through the difficulties
of
the transit on such Indian roads
as
we have described, he may at length find his cotton produce on the banks
of
the river. Are his difficulties then at an end by
his
finding at this point
a
safe and ready conveyance for his property to Calcutta? Not at all If he aims at
embarking it on a river steamer he may find that the few that exist are all
booked for many months to come ; or, if such should not be the case, the cost
demanded for carriage
is so
heavy
as
would at once destroy all hope of profit from his goods. In this state of things
his
dernier ressort is
a
country boat, which
is
a rickety conveyance under
the most favorable circumstances, but becomes alarming to contemplate with
his
cotton bales piled upon it. There is no help or choice
left,
however,
so
the boat
is
dispatched ; but when it will arrive at its destination, or in what state its
cargo will be delivered, are events that lie shrouded in the most absolute
uncertainty. If it happen to be the hot season the crazy craft will most likely
lie on some sandbank for weeks together ; if, on the other hand, through delay
it should be overtaken by the rains, it
is
1000 to 1 but that the top-heavy vessel
will
be capsized in a squall,
and
the luckless freight, if not totally lost, will almost to a certainty be irremediably
ruined. Nor
is
the
sum of
its mischances
yet at an end, for the probability
is
that, even on the most favorable voyage, the inflammable
cargo will be set on fire on an average every alternate day, from the boatmen
cooking their meals, each man using
his
separate charcoal-pan.
WE publish herewith, from a picture
by our special artist, a
view of
the LONG BRIDGE AT WASHINGTON,
over which the road to Alexandria passes. A
writer for the
Herald says :
"At the extremity of the bridge a
company of soldiers
is stationed, and, for form's sake, sentinels parade to and
fro. The passage across the bridge is, however, unobstructed
during day, and wagons are constantly passing
and repassing. The bridge is one mile long, is not covered,
and about a quarter of a mile of the central part is
built of masonry, with low parapets, and resembles a country
road. The rest of the bridge is wood. It is about the
width of three carriages, and has two draws, one on the
Washington and one on the Virginia side. These are almost
constantly open for the passage of small armed propellers,
with which the Potomac swarms.
"A company of flying artillery is
stationed on the bridge every night, near the Virginia shore, with the draw
raised in front of them. At the Virginia terminus
is a small hotel, where Colonel Lee's
picket-guard was recently
quartered. It is now almost deserted."
THE MARCH OF THE SEVENTH
TO ANNAPOLIS.
ON page 315 we give
a picture, from a sketch by
our special artist,
of the SEVENTH REGIMENT
HALTING FOR A REST ON THE MARCH TO ANNAPOLIS JUNCTION. Our
artist accompanied them on the march. Its fatigues and its perils
are well described
in the
following extract from a
letter from
one of
the members to the New York
Times:
"General Scott has stated, as I have been informed,
that the march that we performed from
Annapolis to the
Junction is one of the most remarkable on record. I know
that I felt it the most fatiguing, and some of our officers
have told me that it was the most perilous. We marched
the first eight miles under a burning sun, in heavy marching
order, in less than three
hours ; and it is well known
that, placing all elementary considerations out of the way,
marching on a railroad track is the most harassing. We
started at about 8 o'clock
A.M., and for the first time saw
the town of Annapolis, which, without any disrespect to
that place, I may say looked very much as if some celestial school-boy,
with a box of toys under his arm, had
dropped a few houses and men as he was going home from
school, and that the accidental settlement was called Annapolis. Through
the town we marched, the people unsympathizing, but afraid. They saw the Seventh
for the first time, and for the first time they realized the men that they had
threatened.
" The tracks had been torn up between Annapolis and
the Junction, and here it was that the wonderful qualities
of the
Massachusetts Eighth Regiment came out. The locomotive had been
taken to pieces by the inhabitants,
in order to prevent our travel. In steps a Massachusetts
volunteer, looks at the piecemeal engine, takes up a flange,
and says, coolly, ' I made this engine, and I can put it together
again.' Engineers were wanted
when the engine was ready. Nineteen stepped out of the ranks. The rails
were torn up. Practical railroad makers out of the Regiment
laid them again, and all this, mind you, without care or food. These brave boys,
I say, were starving while they were doing all this good work. What their
Colonel was doing I can't say. As we marched along the
track that they had laid they greeted us with ranks of smiling but hungry
faces. One boy told use, with a laugh
on his young lips, that he had not ate any thing for thirty
hours. There was not, thank God, a haversack in our Regiment that was not
emptied into the hands of these ill-treated heroes, nor a flask that was not at
their disposal. I am glad to pay them tribute here, and mentally
doff my cap.
" Our march lay through an arid, sandy, tobacco-growing country. The sun poured
on our heads like hot lava. The
Sixth and Second companies were sent on for skirmishing
duty, under the command of Captains Clarke and
Nevers, the latter commanding as senior officer. A car, on which was placed a
howitzer loaded with grape and
canister, headed the column, manned by the engineer and
artillery corps, commanded by Lieutenant Bunting. This
was the rallying point of the skirmishing party, on which,
in case of difficulty, they could fall back. In the centre of the column
came the cars laden with medical stores,
and bearing our sick and wounded, while the extreme rear
was brought up with a second howitzer, loaded also with
grape and canister. The engineer corps, of course, had to
do the forwarding work. New York dandies, Sir!—but they built bridges, laid
rails, and headed the regiment through that terrible march. After
marching about eight miles, during
which time several men caved in from exhaustion, and one young gentleman
was sun-struck and sent back
to New York, we halted, and instantly, with the
Divine instinct which characterizes the hungry soldier, proceeded to forage. The
worst of it was, there was no foraging to be done. The only house within
reach was inhabited
by a lethargic person, who, like most Southern
men, had no idea of gaining money by labor. We offered
him extravagant prices to get us fresh water, and it was
with
the utmost reluctance we
could get him to obtain us a
few pailfuls. Over the mantlepiece of his miserable
shanty I saw—a curious
`coincidence—the portrait of Colonel
Duryea of
our regiment."
