The Last of the Flatboats

by George Cary Eggleston

  CHAPTER XXXIV

  A TALK ON DECK

  The latter end of the voyage was uneventful in outward ways at least,but it led to some things, as we shall see later on, that were of moreconsequence in the lives of the five boys than all the strenuoushappenings which had gone before.

  The boat no longer leaked. A few minutes' pumping once in every two orthree hours was sufficient to keep her bilge free from water. The river,though falling rapidly, was still full, but the levees were keeping itwithin bounds, and there were no crevasses to avoid. There were fogs nowand then, but the flatboat floated through them without any apparentdisposition to run away again. There were the three meals a day to cook,and the lanterns to keep in order, but beyond that and the washing ofclothes, sheets, and the like, there was literally nothing to do buttalk.

  And how they did talk! And of how many different things! We have heardone of their conversations. Suppose we listen to some more of them.

  "I say, Ed," said Irv, "with this wonderful river bringing the productsof a score of states to New Orleans for a market, how is it that NewOrleans isn't the greatest port in the country?"

  "It came near being so once. It was New York's chief rival, and some dayit may be again. So long as there were no railroads New Orleans was thechief outlet, and inlet as well, for all this great western and southerncountry. Not only did most of the western produce and southern cottoncome to it for sale at home or shipment abroad, but most of the foreigngoods imported for the use of the West and South came in through NewOrleans, and so did most of the passengers who wanted to reach any pointwest of the Alleghenies."

  "Why didn't it go on in that way?" asked Constant.

  "In the first place, a wise governor of New York, De Witt Clinton,persuaded the people of that state to make some artificial geography.They dug canals to connect the Great Lakes with the Hudson River. Thisenabled them to carry western produce to New York all the way by water,and as cheaply as it could be carried down the river--more cheaply, infact, so far as that part of it grown far away from the rivers wasconcerned. This gave New York a very great advantage. For New York is athousand miles or more nearer to Europe than New Orleans is, and so ifgrain could be landed in New York at smaller expense than in NewOrleans, that was the cheapest as well as the shortest route to Europe.

  "Then again New Orleans lies in a much hotter climate than New York, andso do the seas over which freight from New Orleans must be carried. In ahot climate grain is apt to sprout and spoil, or it was so untilcomparatively recent years, when means of preventing that werediscovered."

  Ed stopped, as if he had finished. Will wanted more and asked for it.

  "Go on," he said. "Tell us all about it."

  "Yes, do," echoed the others.

  "I am not sure that I know 'all about it,'" answered Ed, "but I havebeen reading some articles concerning it since our trip awakened myinterest, and if you want me to do so, I'll tell you what I havelearned from them."

  "Do!" cried Irv. "This party of young Hoosiers has often been hungrierfor corned beef and cabbage, with all that those terms imply, than forintellectual pabulum of any kind whatever. But at present ourphysical systems are abundantly fed. What we want now is intellectualrefreshment, all of which, being interpreted, means 'Go on, Ed; we'reinterested.'"

  Ed laughed, and continued:--

  "Well, the war damaged New Orleans, of course, not only by shutting upthe port for some years, but by impoverishing the southern states whichNew Orleans supplied with provisions and goods and from which it drewcotton. Then, again, New York had and still has most of the free moneythere is in this country, the money that is hunting for something to do.You know that money is like a man in this respect. It always wants toearn wages. Now, when the western farmer sells his grain and the like toa country merchant, he wants money for it. As a great many farmers sellat the same time, the country merchant naturally hasn't enough money ofhis own to satisfy them all. So he ships the grain, etc., as fast as hereceives it, and makes drafts upon the commission merchants to whom heis sending it. That is to say, he makes them pay in advance for produceshipped in order that he may have the money with which to buy more whenit is offered. The commission merchants in their turn borrow the moneyfrom the banks in their cities, giving liens on the grain for security.This is a very rough explanation, of course, but you can see from it howthe city that has the largest amount of money 'hunting for a job' mustdraw to itself, when other things are anywhere near equal, the greaterpart of all the produce that can go at about the same cost to that orsome other city."

  "That's clear enough," said Phil. "But what about the railroads? Why dothey all seem to run to New York?"

  "That's an interesting point," answered Ed. "I'm glad you reminded me ofit. When the railroads were built, each little road was independent ofall the rest. But each of them wanted to reach New York, because theartificial geography created by New York's canals had made that thecountry's greatest port, and because New York had more money to lend onproduce, as I have explained, than any other city. So as the numberlesslittle railroad lines consolidated themselves into great trunk lines,they all made for New York as eagerly as flies make for an open sugarbarrel. Even the Baltimore and Ohio road, which was built by Baltimorepeople to make Baltimore a rival of New York, spent money in lavishmillions to secure a New York terminus and make Baltimore a way station.To sum it all up, the farmer wants to sell to the local merchant whowill pay him in cash; the local merchant ships his purchases to Chicagoor any other intermediate city whose commission merchants will make thebiggest and quickest advances of money on the grain, etc., before itarrives; the merchants in the intermediate cities ship to the port whosecommission merchants will make them the largest advances in their turnand thus enable them to go on buying while the opportunity lasts. Thatcity is New York. Of course this is only a general statement. There isoften plenty of money to lend in Boston, Philadelphia, and Baltimore,and lately those cities and Newport News in Virginia have taken a gooddeal of New York's grain trade. But what I have said will explain toyou one of the reasons why New Orleans 'isn't in it,' in this matter."

  "Then our wonderful river no longer renders a service to the country?"said Constant, interrogatively.

  "Oh, yes, it does," answered Ed, eagerly. "It still carries vastquantities of goods to New Orleans, not only for consumption in theSouth, but for shipment abroad. And even if it carried nothing, it wouldstill be rendering a service of incalculable value to the country."

  "How?" asked all the boys, in a breath.

  "By compelling the railroads to carry freight at reasonable rates. Letme tell you some facts in illustration. Somewhere about the year 1870--alittle before, I think it was--the railroads were charging extortionateprices for carrying freight to eastern cities. Some great merchants andsteamboat owners put their heads together to stop the extortion. Theyorganized the Mississippi Valley Transportation Company, to carryfreight down the river to the sea. They built great stern-wheelsteamboats, and set them to push vast fleets of barges loaded withfreight to New Orleans. This so enormously cheapened freight rates thatthe railroads were threatened with ruin, and New Orleans seemed likelyto take New York's place as the country's great grain-exporting city.The railroads began at once to reduce their rates in self-defence, andfrom that day to this they have had to reduce them more and more, lestthe water routes, and chiefly the Mississippi River, should take theirtrade away from them. So you see that even if not one ton of freightwere carried over our wonderful river, which, in fact, carries hundredsof millions of tons, it would still be rendering an enormous service tothe country by keeping railroad freight rates down."

  The boys pondered these things awhile. Then Irv said:--

  "But you said awhile ago that New Orleans might some day again becomeNew York's rival as a shipping port. Would you mind telling us just whatyou meant by that?"

  "Why, no," said Ed, hesitating. "I suppose I was thinking of the time,which is surely coming, when this great, rich Mississippi Val
ley of ourswill be as densely populated as other and less productive parts of theearth are."

  "For instance?" said Will, interrogatively.

  "Well, I suppose," said Ed, "that the great Mississippi Valley fairlyrepresents our whole country as to population. We have in this country,according to a statistical book that I have here, about 20 people, bigand little, to the square mile, or somewhat less. Now the Netherlands,according to the same book, have about 351, Belgium about 529, andEngland about 540 people to the square mile. In other words, we mustmultiply ourselves by 26 or 27 before we shall have as dense apopulation as England now has. When we have 27 times as many people inthe Mississippi Valley as we now have, I don't think there is much doubtthat New Orleans will be just as important a port and just as big a cityas her most ambitious citizen would like her to be."

  The boys sat silent for a while. Then Irv took out a pencil and paper,and figured for a few minutes. Finally he broke silence.

  "Do I understand that this country of ours is capable--taking it by andlarge--of supporting a population as great to the square mile as that ofEngland, or anything like as great?"

  "I don't see why not," said Ed. "Our agriculture is in its infancy, weare merely scratching the surface, and not a very large part of thesurface at that. We have arid and desert regions, of course, but on theother hand, we have a richer soil and an immeasurably more fruitfulclimate than England has. England can't grow a single bushel of corn,for example, while we grow more than two billion bushels every year. Itseems to me clear that our country, taken as a whole, and this richMississippi Valley especially, can support a much larger population tothe square mile than England can."

  "Well, if it ever does," said Irv, referring to his figures, "we shallhave a population of about two billion people, or very many times morethan the greatest nations in all history ever had."

  "Why not?" asked Phil. "Isn't ours the greatest nation in all history inthe way it has stood for liberty and right and progress? Why shouldn'tit be immeasurably the greatest in population and wealth and everythingelse? Why shouldn't we multiply our seventy millions or so of peopleinto the billions?"

  "Well, yes, why not?" asked Irv. "It would only mean that twenty orthirty times as many men as ever before would enjoy the blessing ofliberty."

  "It would mean vastly more than that," said Ed.

  "What?" asked Irv.

  "It would mean that twenty or thirty times as many men _stood_ forliberty throughout all the earth; it would mean that twenty or thirtytimes as many men as ever before were ready to fight for liberty andhuman right. It would mean even more than that. It would mean that theGreat Republic, planted upon the theory of absolute and equal liberty,would so enormously outweigh all other nations combined, in numbers andin physical and moral force, that no nation and no coalition of nationswould ever dare dispute our country's decisions or balk her will. Weshould in that case dominate the world by our numbers, our wealth, andour productiveness. For in the very nature of things, countries thatalready have from twenty to twenty-five times our population to thesquare mile cannot hope to grow as we inevitably shall."

  "But what if we don't continue to stand for liberty and human right?"asked Phil. "What if we forget our national mission, and use our vastpower not for freedom, but for conquest; not for the right, but for thewrong?"

  "That is what every American citizen owes it to his country to guardagainst by his vote," answered Ed.

  "In other words," said Irv "that's what we are here for."

  "Precisely," said Ed. "But it is time to get supper, and I, for one, amhungry."

  "So am I," responded Irv, as he went below to bear his share in thesupper getting.