Frank on the Lower Mississippi | Page 2

these banks were the famous "gopher holes." They were [ca]ves dug in
the ground, into which a person, if he happened to hear a shell coming,
might run for safety. Outside the city, the fortifications were most
extensive; rifle-pits ran in every direction, flanked by strong forts,
whose battered walls attested the fury of the iron hail that had been
poured upon them. It was night before Frank was aware of it, so
interested was he in every thing about him, and he returned on board
his vessel, weary with his long walk, but amply repaid by seeing the
inside of what its rebel occupants had called "the Gibraltar of
America."
During the next two days, several vessels of the squadron passed the
city, on their way to new fields of action further down the river. One of
them--the Boxer, a tin-clad, mounting eight guns--had Frank on board.
He had been detached from the Trenton, and ordered to join this vessel,
which had been assigned a station a short distance below Grand Gulf.
As usual, he had no difficulty in becoming acquainted with his new
messmates, and he soon felt perfectly at home among them. He found,
as he had done in every other mess of which he had been a member,
that there was the usual amount of wrangling and disputing, and it
amused him exceedingly. All the mess seemed to be indignant at the
caterer, who did not appear to stand very high in their estimation. The
latter, he learned, had just made an "assessment" upon the mess to the
amount of ten dollars for each member; and as there was no paymaster
on board, the officers had but very little ready money, and were
anxious to know where all the funds paid into the treasury went to. He

also found that the caterer's authority was not as much respected as he
had a right to claim, for during the very first meal Frank ate in the mess,
a dispute arose which threatened for a time to end in the whole matter
being carried before the captain.
One of the members of the mess, who was temporarily attached to the
vessel, was a pilot who had been pressed into the service. He was a
genuine rebel, and frequently said that he was called a traitor because
he was in favor of allowing the South to "peaceably withdraw from the
Union." The doctor, a little, fat, jolly man, and a thorough Unionist,
who believed in handling all rebels without gloves, took up the sword,
and the debate that followed was long and stormy. The pilot, as it
proved, hardly knew the reasons why the South had attempted to
secede, and was constantly clinching his arguments by saying, "Men
who know more, and who have done more fighting during this war than
you, Doctor Brown, say that they have a right to do so." The debate
waxed hotter and hotter, until some of the other members of the mess
joined in with the doctor against the pilot, and the caterer, thinking that
the noise the disputants made was unbecoming the members of a
well-regulated mess, at length shouted:
"Silence! Gentlemen, hereafter talking politics in this wardroom is
strictly prohibited."
"Eh?" ejaculated the doctor, who was thoroughly aroused, "Do you
expect us to sit here and listen to a conscript running down the
Government--a man who never would have entered the service if he
had not been compelled to do so? No, sir! I wouldn't hold my tongue
under such circumstances if all the six-foot-four caterers in the
squadron should say so. You are not a little admiral, to come down here
and hoist your broad pennant in this mess-room."
The caterer was astounded when he found his authority thus set at
defiance, and without further parley he retired to his room; and in a few
moments returned with the books, papers, and the small amount of
money that belonged to the mess; laying them on the table, he said:
"Gentlemen, you will please elect another caterer."

The debate was instantly hushed, for not one member of the mess,
besides the caterer just resigned, could have been hired to take the
responsibility of managing affairs. When the officers had finished their
dinner, they walked carelessly out on deck, as if the question of where
the next meal was to come from did not trouble them in the least.
Nothing was done toward an election; no one took charge of the books
or papers, and when the table was cleared away they were thrown
unceremoniously under the water-cooler. The money, however, was
taken care of by the doctor. Dinner-time came, and when Frank, tired
and hungry, was relieved from the deck, he inquired what was to be had
to eat.
"There's nothing been done