Recollections of Mississippi and Mississippians

Front matter

RECOLLECTIONS OF MISSISSIPPI AND MISSISSIPPIANS EY REUBEN DAVIS BOSTON AND NEW YORK HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN AND COMPANY (£fie iRftinjSDe %)&$$, Camtciage t Copyright, 1889, By REUBEN DAVIS. AU rights reserved. Tlie Riverside Press, Cambridge, Mass , U. S. A. Electrotyped and Printed by H. 0. Houghton & Company. SDjese UttoWtttions ARE DEDICATED TO THE LAWYERS OF MISSISSIPPI BY ONE WHO IS NOT ONLY THE OLDEST MISSISSIPPIAN NOW IN THE PROFESSION, BUT WHO IS THE SOLE SURVIVOR OF THE BAR OF FIFTY YEARS AGO. CONTENTS. CHAPTER j,A(JE I. Early Years 1 II. Hamilton People 1 . 12 III. Medical Studles 17 IV. A Perilous Ride 24 "V. The First Trlal I ever heard . . . .29 VI. Change of Profession, and Marriage . . 43 VII. Elected District Attorney . .... 51 VIII. Pushmattahaw 59 IX. A Canvass for Office 65 X. The Notable Towns of Mississippi ... 73 XI.

Holly Springs and Pontotoc, and their Men of Mark 86 XII. Columbus and its Citizens 97 XIII. Life in Mississippi from 1828 to 1845 . . . 103 XIV. Financial Disorder 116 XV. A Memorable Election for Governor, and a Military Diversion 130 XVI. A Strange Experience 144 XVII. The Case of State vs. Forester .... 154 XVIII. My Associates in Ripley and Corinth . . 164 XIX. Tupelo, Okolona, and Houston .... 174 XX. The Presidential Election of 1844 . . . 186 XXI. My Defense of Scaggs CONTENTS. VI XXII. Mississippi in the Mexican War . . 211 XXIII. My Adventures in the War .... 230 XXIV. My Return from the War .... 239 XXV. Removal to Aberdeen 252 XXVI. The Early Settlers of Aberdeen . . 263 XXVII. The Presidential Election of 1848 . . 286 XXVIH. My Canvass for Congress in 1848-49. . 297 XXIX. Davis, Foote, and Quitman .... 310 XXX.

"The Chickasaw Rebellion" . . . 322 XXXI. Services as Railroad Attorney . . . 335 XXXII. Member of the Legislature .... 345 XXXIII. Election to Congress 354 XXXIV. Experience at Washington .... 363 XXXV. The Contest for the Speakership . . 374 XXXVI. Was Mississippi to secede ? . . . . 387 XXXVII. The Opening of the War . . . .395 XXXVIII. Military Preparations in Mississippi. . 408 XXXIX. Conclusion

Chapter I

The life of every man of action is full of inci dent, more or less interesting to those who come after him ; and especially is this the case when that life includes the early scenes of a newly-settled country, and the stirring events that led up to and culminated in a civil war of vast proportions and results. Perhaps some slight record of such a life as this, and some brief sketches of the men and manners of a period fast becoming historic, may not be unacceptable to the Mississippian of to day. In writing a sketch of my own life, I mean to make it a thread upon which to string some memories of old friends and comrades, and of the stirring times through which we passed together. Many of them — most of them, alas ! — have passed " beyond the river," and the world has changed since we were young together.

If those who come to take their places are as brave, honest, kindly, and loyal, they also may hope to build up and redeem the country bequeathed to them by noble sires. My father was one of the earliest settlers in this country. He was a man of limited means, and though of strong and vigorous intellect, had only the imperfect education of the pioneers of that day. His chief study was the Bible and a few volumes of history, which formed his only library. Although a Baptist minister of high standing, he occupied himself, during the week, with ordinary farm labor, and could never be induced to accept any compensation for his ser vices in the church : this would have been, according to his belief, " serving the Lord for hire." Both my parents were born in Virginia, and re mained there after marriage until ten children were added to their family.

They then removed to Tennessee, and settled near Winchester, where I, their twelfth and last child, was born. I can remember that I was a feeble child, and consid ered very inferior to my brothers and sisters in strength and endurance, yet I have outlived them all, and am the last of that large household. When I was about five years of age, my father removed from Tennessee to North Alabama. The land had been recently purchased from the Indians, and many of them yet roamed the dense forests of that section. I well remember how I hunted with these wild companions, and was taught by them to use the bow and arrow. Even now I can recall something of the emotion excited in my youthful breast by the wild yells of a party of drunken savages passing near my father's house. Occasional deeds of frightful atrocity were com mitted in the immediate neighborhood.

Long before I was competent to reason upon it, the problem of race-hatred was forced upon my obser vation. The fierce antagonism of one race for another and the frequent rising of the conquered against the conqueror were met then as practical questions, — as the fashion of the day was, — with out much speculation or moralizing. Later in life I have encountered the same problem under new phases, and I confess that I still see no way out of the difficulties presented by it. At that time the country was as wild and un settled as possible ; there were no laws, no schools, and no libraries. Every man did what was right in his own eyes, but in spite of general reckless ness and lawlessness, there was a rough code of honor and honesty which was rarely broken. The settlers lived a life of great toil and many privations, but they were eminently social, kindly, and friendly.

They practised the most cordial and unstinted hospitality ; and in case of sorrow or sickness, or need of any kind, there was no limit to the ready service rendered by neighbors and friends. In those days, people who lived many miles apart counted themselves as neighbors, and even strangers soon became friends. There was this great advantage that, while none were very wealthy, few were poor enough to suffer actual want. As an American poet has said of another Arcadian country, " There the richest were poor, and the poorest had all in abundance." The simple habits of the laboring man were not shamed by the ostentation of his more prosperous neigh bor ; and there was none of that silent, perpetual contrast of luxury and penury, which now adds bitterness to class-hatreds, and, perhaps, lies at the root of the labor troubles of to-day.

At the sale of public lands, ordered by the gen eral government, my father purchased a section of good land. Clearing land and opening a farm required con stant and severe labor, and I, with my five bro thers, performed our full share. Upon this farm I remained until I was sixteen years old. By this time we had conquered the first difficulties that the settler encountered, and our home, though plain, was one of comfort and great abundance. My brothers and myself, assisted by six colored hands, cultivated the land, and attended school only about three months in the year. In this way we learned to read and write, as well as the rudi ments of arithmetic and a little Latin. Unfor tunately, these schools were for the most part taught by incompetent adventurers, who, having failed at everything else, offered themselves as teachers.

My father did not allow his children to read the Bible, holding that it could be studied with profit only by those whose minds were fully matured and informed by experience. I was, how ever, taught that the world was exactly six thou sand years old, and I believed it to a day ; I was told that Adam was created out of the dust of the ground, and Eve out of a rib of Adam's side ; I believed this too. I was informed that, placed in a delightful garden, they ate of the forbidden tree, and thus came death and all our woe ! All this I devoutly believed upon my father's testimony ; and if, in later years, I have questioned many things that I accepted then, I have never seen reason to regret that my boyish mind was nour ished upon a religious system containing a few simple beliefs and a rigid morality.

Having few books and no excitements in life, my mind naturally exercised itself upon the life around me and the wonders of nature. The his tories I read inflamed my imagination with hints of the great world outside of the quiet valley which was all I knew. I longed to learn ; to take my part in active life, and to have some small share in the brilliant rewards held out to honorable ambition. My mother died when I was about twelve years old, and the grief which this loss occasioned shad owed my existence for years. She was a woman of great tenderness and sweetness of character, and I was passionately devoted to her. Through out my whole life, I have carried the most affectionate memory of her in my heart. Although naturally of a sanguine temperament, I had occa sional fits of deep despondency, induced, as I now see, by the monotony of my life, and the apparent lack of prospect for getting on in the world.

About this time, also, I was penetrated by what I considered an undying passion for a little girl who went to the same school with me. She was in my eyes the most beautiful and amiable of human creatures. What agonies of love and shy ness I suffered on account of her ! After some time, which seems an eternity in my recollection, her family removed to a distant part of the country ; and before I saw her again, we were both grown and married. She has long been dead, — a woman old and worn, — and is no doubt forgotten except by one old man, to whom she remains the innocent mite of a girl who charmed his boyish fancy. While still but a lad, I left home to begin a new chapter in my preparation for life. My father had decided, after much hesitation and many misgivings, that I should be allowed to study medicine.

All my own desires pointed even then to the law, but my father held stubbornly to his peculiar theories on that subject. It was very clear to him, he said, that lawyers were wholly given up to the Devil even in this world, and that it was impossible for any one of them ever to enter the kingdom of heaven. That being the case, he could not, in conscience, allow a son of his to enter the ranks of a profession foredoomed to everlasting burnings. He also entertained strong doubts as to the final welfare of medical men in general, but admitted that some few might be saved, provided they used their best endeavors not to kill their patients, and resisted all temptation to prolong illnesses with a view to pecuniary profit. After solemn admonitions on these points, I left home, with my father's consent and blessing, to read medicine with my brother-in-law, Dr. George Higgason, in Hamilton, Monroe County, Miss.

It was about sixty years ago that I thus became a citizen of Monroe County, and cast in my lot with a people with whom I have been identified for more than half a century. I was fortunate in being placed with Dr. Hig gason, who was not only an excellent physician, but an elegant and accomplished gentleman ; he was a man of extensive reading, and his information was accurate. So great was his popularity that he was repeatedly elected to the legislature. At that time Monroe County was composed of the territory lying between the Alabama line and the Tombigbee River. Hamilton was the county seat, and was a delightful village of some five or six hundred people. The country was for the most part covered with forest, and very abundantly watered. A malignant type of bilious fever pre vailed in those days, and was too often fatal.

In many of its symptoms it closely resembled yellow fever, and at that early day the medical profession had not learned to manage that class of diseases. Owing to the great fertility of the soil, the people were generally prosperous. I suppose there was never a community more frank and genial in their hospitality, or more liberal in their dealings with both friend and stranger. It is not too much to say that every house was opened to the traveller — every hand outstretched to aid and welcome him. It seemed impossible to pass a house without stopping to eat and drink with the friendly owners, or to spend the night. Instead of regarding it as a trespass upon their hospitality, these good people actually seemed hurt and offended if even a stranger passed without breaking bread with them. There were few ladies, comparatively, and among such a chivalrous body of southrons those few had everything their own way.

Most of them were lovely and elegant women, and, in spite of the roughness of life in a newly-settled country, they were treated like queens by every man who ap proached them. Some of those gracious and beautiful women are still embalmed in my most grateful and affectionate remembrance for their kindness and attention to me. As I was still a mere boy, shy and awkward, and wholly unaccustomed to society, I don't know what would have become of me without the advice and encouragement of these kind friends. They have grown old long ago, and passed away from this world, but in my memory they live always, fair and young, and blessing all around them with their sweet and gracious kindness. May the earth lie lightly above them ! This journey to Hamilton being my first glimpse of the world outside of my own neighborhood, I was naturally much impressed by everything I saw and heard, and particularly by the people I met.

Dr. Higgason and I travelled on horseback, as was the custom for men, women, and children in those days. The country between Russellville and the state line is full of natural beauty, and at that time was much wilder and more impressive than it is now. Most of our way lay through almost unbroken wilds, and the bright streams and water courses flowed through a virgin land in all the fresh beauty of a new creation. Soon after cross ing the Mississippi line, we came to the plantation of Mr. Reagen, who was the first Mississippian I became acquainted with, and whose cordial greet ing seemed to welcome me to the State as well as to his own fireside. He had a valuable place in the rich bottom lands of the Sipsey, and his family lived most comfortably in a neat log-house, well finished and well furnished.

They were kind, Christian people, and, as Dr. Higgason was their family physician, received me as a friend, and gave me a standing invitation to their house. That night we stopped at the house of Mr. Benjamin Lann, and received all the kindness that could be extended to the most honored guest. His good wife smiled as she presided over her well-spread table, and pressed each dish upon the travellers. There were young people in the house, and some of the youthful neighbors coming in, we had a merry evening. From there to Hamilton we stopped for a longer or shorter time at every house. Higgason knew everybody, and every body knew him, and I began to feel that it would be my own fault if I did not soon feel at home in such a genial atmosphere. Especially was this conviction forced upon me when we spent one night at the house of Colonel Willis, at that time one of the most prominent citizens of the county.

He was originally from Georgia, a man of cultivated mind and polished manners, and of means sufficient to enable him to live in much more style than was at that time common in this country. His plantation was large, and cultivated by many negroes. It was adorned by a very handsome and commodious dwelling, and was the happy home of one of the most agreeable families I have ever known. His wife was an accomplished and charm ing woman, and she had the rare good sense to adapt herself to the life her husband's interests required, and to find happiness and contentment in her cheerful domestic life. I shall never forget the kindness of these good people both then and during the many years during which they contin ued my steadfast and faithful friends. They said to me when I bade them good-by after that first visit, " You are young to be away from home.

When you get homesick, come out to us, and let us try to make this another home for you." Thus began a friendship that was never broken until death removed these generous souls.

Chapter II

About this time a young man, T. M. Tucker, came to Hamilton to study law under Daniel W. Wright, a prominent lawyer of that place. Circumstances threw us together, and a certain similarity of position and a strong mutual sympathy under the embarrassments of our first social failures, combined to make us early and fast friends. We passed all our leisure hours together, and both of us studied hard, and avoided all dissipation. Daniel W. Wright was very kind to us both, and I have to record my gratitude to him for much friendly notice and encouragement. He was profoundly read as a lawyer and really a brilliant speaker. I passed many hours at his house, which was made charming by the gentleness of his wife. Speaking of Wright naturally suggests his friend and compeer, James L. Trotter, one of the noblest and best of men.

There are no words too strong to express the veneration and admiration I felt for him, and it was one of those rare instances where the enthusiastic judgment of early days was fully endorsed in the calmer period of later life. He was a good scholar and a fine speaker, kind and generous above measure ; incapable of fear, treachery, or meanness, he was the ideal Southerner of that day. He had a sister in all respects worthy of such a brother, and from both of them I received great and considerate kindness. Then there was General Stephen Cocke, a lawyer of great ability, but destitute of any power of oratory. While equal to the best in mere con versational ability, he appeared to lose all power of expression as soon as he rose to speak. Like " Blass," in " Flush Times," he knew all the law there was, but could n't " nor ate it from the stump " to save his life.

I knew him intimately for many years ; and if he had any failing which his friends could not tenderly condone, loving him the better for sharing our common frailty, I never found it out. I suppose there never was a better man than Stephen Cocke, and his generosity was proverbial. His two nieces — the Misses Buckingham — lived with him, and were great friends of mine. They were lovely women, and no sisters could have been kinder than I always found them, nor more pains taking in their efforts to improve me. The position they occupied in society gave them frequent opportunities of drawing out such young men as were so fortunate as to be noticed by them, and they had the kindness and tact to smooth many rough places for us. Some years older than my self, they have long since gone to those Elysian fields for which their amiable lives here were a fitting preparation.

Small as the population of Hamilton was, it con tained many other ladies and gentlemen of excel lent gifts and attainments, and was the scene of many festive occasions which we regarded as brilliant social events. One of these I remember well, it being the first public ball I ever attended. We had suffered from a long, hot summer, and the prevailing malarial fever had been universally severe and depressing in its effects. At last, fresh breezes cooled the air, and heavy frosts dispelled the poisonous emanations which had oppressed us. In the gladness of our hearts it was determined to give a grand ball, and the finest beaux and gayest belles of old Monroe were to be in attendance. Any gentleman of fair social standing, who could procure a decent suit of clothing and five dollars for his ticket, was welcome.

Ah, what a night that was, and with what a beating heart I donned my best attire for the festival ! In those days young fellows were more showy in their outfit than they are now, and I put on with great satisfaction a swallow-tailed coat of bright blue cloth and brass buttons, buff doeskin trousers, white waistcoat, ruffled shirt, silk stockings, and pumps. The young ladies were gorgeous. They were plainer in their every-day apparel than girls of this day, but on great occasions they wore frocks of rich silk stuffs and fine gay colors, and they had all sorts of lace tuckers and frills, and wore their hair curled and frizzed in a very artful manner. I won't go so far as to say that women are less handsome nowadays, but I never see any of them look as radiant as they did in the year eighteen hundred and — never mind what.

It is some times a mistake to be too particular about dates. We danced reels in those days, and generally kept it up all night. I remember how carefully I walked through my first attempt, and how proud I was when my partner got through all right. It was, no doubt, more owing to her skill than my own ; but I felt the triumph all the same, and a delicious sense of escape from failure and disgrace. Poor Tucker was more ambitious and less fortunate. He tried to cut some flourishes, got his pumps tan gled up in the ladies' dresses, and was dreadfully mortified by the confusion that ensued. I was sorry for him, but not so sorry as I should have been if I had felt less complacent over my own escape. There was a Miss Walker present, a niece of Gen eral Winfield Scott, with whom I danced a great deal.

I wanted to dance with the beautiful Misses Walton, sisters of the late Mr. Joe Walton ; but they had just come home from boarding-school, and were said to be so tremendously accomplished that I was afraid of them. They belonged to a remarkably handsome family, and I thought then, as I think now, that there never lived more beautiful creatures. Afterwards I knew them well, attended the weddings of both sisters at Cotton Gin several years later, and had the honor of dancing the first reel with each fair bride after the marriage cere mony. Gone, alas, are the old familiar faces, but out of the past they still shine upon me with the old friendly lustre, and I feel how pleasant and mournful to the soul are the memories of joys that are gone.

Chapter III

In a short time I became well acquainted with the people of Hamilton and its vicinity. Looking back at this advanced period, I ask myself why there was such a marked superiority in mental and moral tone to that which now exists. In many important respects our people are now far in advance of those who preceded them. Espe cially is this the case in all the practical arts and sciences, the inventions that facilitate labor, and make life easy and comfortable. That is one great drawback to our civilization. People get too tender, and lack the courage to work, which is the best sort of courage a man can have. In the good old days we lived closer to mother Earth, and drew strength from her bosom. At that time even the richest and most culti vated had few books compared to the flood that now pours into every household.

The few pre cious volumes that could be obtained were studied more carefully, and reflected upon with more profit. It has been said " Beware of the man with only one book," and it is certain that the men of that time, who were destitute of many of the so-called advantages of the day, developed a vigorous manhood rarely seen now. Trained to prompt action in every emergency, they had all their faculties keenly upon the alert, and met intellectual questions with the same fearlessness which they were accustomed to show in their con flict with the difficulties of a new society. It is scarcely possible for young men in the habit of regarding college-life as the only education to estimate the sort of training which the exigencies of daily life gave to those who were building a civilized State out of a newly conquered wilderness.

It was to the moral fibre of these pioneers that we chiefly owe the wonderful success they achieved. I wish to state this very strongly because I am aware that, upon this subject, much injustice has been done us, both at home and abroad. Our first settlers have too often been characterized as a set of ruffians and desperadoes, whose courage de generated into ferocity, and whose freedom was license and debauchery. The Mississippian has been caricatured into a swaggering rowdy, always drinking whiskey and flourishing revolvers and bowie-knives. It is true that many of them drank hard, swore freely, and were utterly reckless of consequences when their passions were aroused. But it is equally true that the great body of the settlers were sober, industrious men, who met hardships and toil with patient courage, and whose hands were as ready to extend help as they were to resist violence and oppression.

They took life jovially, and enjoyed such pleasures as they could come by. Although a God-fearing people — for infidelity was unknown — there was nothing strait laced about their religion. They attended divine worship in a reverent spirit, and endeavored to do their duty to God and man, so far as they saw it. Even the strictest of them made no scruple about a social glass, or a lively dance, or a game of cards, or even of an honest hand-to-hand fight under due provocation. Minister as he was, my father never doubted that it was part of his Christian duty to knock down any rascal who happened to deserve such discipline. People had not begun to write about muscular Christianity in those days, but they understood and practised it. Their creed was generally simple. A man ought to fear God, and mind his business.

He should be respectful and courteous to all women ; he should love his friends and hate his enemies. He should eat when he was hungry, drink when he was thirsty, dance when he was merry, vote for the candidate he liked best, and knock down any man who questioned his right to these privileges. He was almost always an ardent politician, and a strong partisan on which ever side he enlisted. But a man would have been held in reprobation who should attempt to serve his party by fraud and corruption. There was no ballot-box stuffing. It is probable that the greater simplicity of social habit brought people nearer together, and made man's common brotherhood more readily felt. Certain it is that mutual help and encouragement was the rule and not the exception, and when adversity threatened, neighbors relied upon each other as if they were members of one great family.

The world has of necessity grown colder and more selfish as those primitive days recede into the dim past, and in grasping all things, men let happiness slip out of their hands. People are less religious now than they used to be, though they have so many more churches and preachers to keep them in the right way. I do not profess to be what is called orthodox myself, nor to believe all that was taught in my father's house ; but the longer I live, the more clearly I see that without religion and morality no nation or individual can prosper. It is the youth who lives an orderly and moral life, and who reverences all sacred teachings, who grows up into a prosperous man and a good citizen. During the first two years after I went to Ham ilton, little occurred worthy of detail here. I studied hard, generally reading twelve hours a day.

This was too much, and I now see that I might have made better progress with less application. However, I was conscious of many deficiencies, and felt that I must lose no time. Dr. Higgason seemed of the same opinion, and I injured my health by too many hours' confinement. I at tempted too much, and failed to master completely any one branch of my subject. When I came to the practice of medicine, I discovered that my knowledge was superficial, and tried to remedy this imperfection by careful study of one branch at a time. At first I was too ignorant even to know how best to employ such advantages as were offered me. Once more I must refer to the great kindness and encouragement I received from leading citizens of Hamilton, who in the midst of their busy lives found time to give friendly help and counsel to the diffident and awkward boy who sorely needed such assistance.