No romanticizing of life on Mississippi
BY ROGER K. MILLER
Lee Sandlin writes about the harshness of 19th century life along the Mississippi in Wicked River.
'It was as though they were all walking around in a perpetual state of rage."
We are not talking about 21st century Tea Party activists here, but everyday society in the lower Mississippi River Valley in the early 19th century, as marvelously captured by Lee Sandlin in Wicked River.
Sandlin, a Chicago journalist, has made a superb book debut with Wicked River. In the above quotation, he refers specifically to Natchez, Miss., but it could apply to almost anywhere along the river at that time, when life tended toward the Hobbesian. If not exactly solitary, poor, nasty, brutish and short, it was certainly filthy, chaotic and dangerous, and plagued by, well, plagues, and by corruption and floods and other natural disasters. It's enough to put anyone in a perpetual snit, if not a rage.
It may not be the picture of the place and time we have in our heads, which may be the very same one Mark Twain had in his head when he wrote The Adventures of Tom Sawyer and Life on the Mississippi. Twain wrote in the 1870s and 1880s, but he had the same focus as Sandlin's book: Mississippi River culture in the first half of the 19th century.
But Twain was looking back in a nostalgic daydream on a boy's and young man's American Eden and saw the Mississippi in its mythic grandeur, its magnificence and majesty. Twain, of course, was not of a generally sunny outlook, and so was also able to perceive that his home grounds enclosed, as he once wrote, "a semi-barbarism which set itself up for a lofty civilization."
That is more in line with the picture drawn by Sandlin using largely books and other material published during the period under study. Consigned to oblivion and largely unreadable even by the time Twain wrote, they nevertheless contain matchless information for a portrait of Mississippi River culture.
The river dominated life in the muddy, primitive towns where white settlers lived. Until the arrival of steamboats, most traffic was downriver in all sorts of craft: scows, skiffs, pirogues, barges, canoes, schooners and, primarily, rafts, flatboats and keelboats. It took dozens of men to maneuver some of the rafts, up to 90 feet long and with huge steering oars.
Their varied cargo was just about anything that could be grown, raised, mined or made. Also, each year thousands of slaves were brought down the river. Those who transported them were called "soul drivers" and, even though slavery was ubiquitous in the lower valley, were shunned by other river people, exhibiting thereby a silent shame of the dirty business they themselves nevertheless approved of and lived on.
It was not an easy, languorous float, but exceedingly dangerous navigation, hence the appellations "Wicked River" or "Old Devil River." The river continually shifted, rose, fell, expanded and contracted. Vessels were met, and too often upset, by sand bars, snags, floating trees -- or great clots of interlocked floating trees known as wooden islands -- and whirlpools and deceptive currents.
Perils and ugliness abounded on and off the water: fierce thunderstorms, murderous pirates, non-human predators, frequent fires, slave auctions, squalid and unsanitary conditions that abetted epidemics of yellow fever and cholera.
A grim scene, to be sure; no wonder Sandlin writes of a recurring sense of looming catastrophe that gripped many residents. But that is not all of it. There were also fascinating characters, such as Timothy Flint, a stiff-necked, querulous and perpetually aggrieved missionary turned best-selling author, and William Johnson, a successful free black barber and businessman of Natchez.
There were mammoth wilderness revival meetings, where spirituality vied with eroticism. There were more "loose women" and a looser attitude toward sexual morality than you would think. There were con men, crazy preachers and riverboat gamblers.
Most of it comes to and end with the rise of the railroads and the approach of the Civil War, to which Sandlin devotes the final section of this thoroughly engaging, entertaining and seductively educational history.
Novelist and free-lance writer Roger K. Miller's latest essay, "Benning's School for Boys," appears in Southwest Review.
THE MISSISSIPPI WHEN IT LAST RAN WILD
By Lee Sandlin
Pantheon, 247 pages, $26.95LOCAL APPEARANCESLee Sandlin will discuss and sign copies of Wicked River at:
*Noon Oct. 28 at a University Club luncheon, 76 E. Monroe. Information: (312) 696-2208; ucco.com
*7 p.m. Oct. 28 at the Book Cellar, 4736 N. Lincoln. bookcellarinc.com
*7 p.m. Nov. 1 at Frankfort Public Library, 21119 Pfeiffer Rd., Frankfort. frankfortlibrary.org