Randy White - Haunted

Back and forth between the pages I went. First, I had to work out the man’s abbreviations and odd spellings. At times, he inserted numbers for letters which seemed a form of code. I soon gave up trying to figure that out. Then I focused on content. Between August 1861 and December 1862, only three of the forty-some entries mentioned the war. These were vague or sardonic references to shortages of salt and coffee, and a jab at the Confederate Navy’s inability to take St. Augustine. Between 1863 and 1865, however, the war received more of my great-uncle’s attention.

What had changed?’

The answer, I decided, was in a file on my laptop, which I had already summarized in longhand after stringing my hammock that afternoon:

From the war’s start, Florida’s 140,000 residents had mixed sympathies. The Union depended on locals to control Key West, Tampa, Pensacola, and Jacksonville. Only 14,000 Floridians joined the Confederate Army.

In 1863, the Battle of Vicksburg changed everything. It closed the Mississippi River as the South’s main supply conduit. That left only Florida to provide cattle, salt, and other staples of war. Cattlemen and mariners, whatever their sympathies, were caught in the middle. The Union had to cut off supplies. That meant killing Florida’s cattle where they stood and controlling waterways. It sparked the cattle wars and salt wars of inland Florida. Blood began to flow.

The Caloosahatchee River, which connected two oceans (aided by a short overland trail), was a major prize. The Union took Ft. Myers at the mouth of the river. But control of Ft. Thompson-an outpost near Labelle-varied. There was heavy fighting, especially near Tallahassee, Jacksonville, and also at Lake City where 10,000 troops engaged. After six hours of fighting, 3,000 lay dead.

By 1864, the Cattle Wars had shifted and hardened sympathies. Union sympathizers formed a unit called the Florida Rangers. Those who sided with the South formed the 1st Battalion “Cow Cavalry.” Men without politics but who owned boats and cattle could get rich if they wanted. Or they could risk their lives by aiding a cause they hadn’t believed in from the start.

A few cow hunters and captains did both. Even for them, times were hard. Beef on the hoof was valuable, but worthless without salt to cure and preserve the meat. In the end, it was salt, not gunpowder or gold, that controlled the fates of Florida and the South.

After I’d reread the summary, I sat back, wondering about the accuracy of what I’d written. Salt… Such a common item. My eyes moved to the kitchenette, where a plastic shaker sat on the counter. For me, a dollar would buy a year’s supply. Not during the Civil War. Salt was mentioned in historic references, but it was Ben Summerlin’s journal that proved its value in a world without refrigeration. Those same entries also provided clues to where he might have scuttled his dory Sodbuster -and why he was on the run from Union soldiers.

I yawned, glanced at the window, then buckled down to copying the entries, but used ellipses to skip over sentences that did not apply. When Capt. Summerlin omitted a location or date, I included a question mark. When his writing was illegible, I noted that, too. The code he’d used began to make sense: the first letter of a word followed either by hyphens that approximated the number of letters the word contained or sometimes by a number. Because of the man’s poor spelling and his whims, translation required guesswork. S with three hyphens could mean sail or seed or salt , while S4 was a profanity- shit . I chose words that seemed to fit but added a question mark when dubious.

The temptation was to jump straight to the scuttling incident in December 1864. But I stayed on task, determined to finish entries from 1863 before turning out the light.

7 August, 1863 (Sanybel): The Blues has blowed up rum stills from Pensacola to Key Marco without no whimpering but has now burnt all saltworks along the coast. This will win them a bullet from many if a chance given. Shooting cattle aint won them no friends nether. Nor will their looting gerillas when they come ashore drunk…

21 August: Thank the Lord for green turtle meat cause of the fix we are in. Damnt if I know how to make salt & who does cause salt is like breathing air. Them that do know quick find the attention of the Blues & whatever dynamite needed. This is because saltworks is always built on the coast which is handy but aint smart. Men such as Captain Gatrell & brothers has been studying this matter & we will meet soon.

12 September, 1863 (Sanybel): Yankees from Juseppa Island found salt pans on La Costa Beach & threatened hanging. Damnt spies is among us. I will never again run away after such sneaky business as this. Acourse the Yankee bastards accused me with nary proof. Prove this in court I told their snot nosed lieutenant. I am both judge & jury which you would do well to remember sir, he says. Addressing me as sir saved the snot nose a licking for I will not tolerate rude behavior from them sech as he. As to my expenses for them salt pans & other supplies, they are as follows…

24 February, 1864 (Key West Turtle Kralls): News is that pony horses is sellin for $2000 in Confederate paper but you kant buy a hogshead of salt for 10 times that. This was tolt to me by a Yankee officer at Ft. Taylor. He come aboard to inspect for contraband but cut things short after asking about the name Widow’s Son. He had never seen a 40’ sloop bilt of yeller pine & rigged with leeboards that can be razed in shoal water. I’ll bet she’s fast, he reckoned. I gave him the handshake & says, She’ll float on fog & nary cut a mark.

It is a smart name I chose cause 18 demijohns of rum was stowed among cigars & molasses under the man’s feet. But no salt. Even Habana aint got no salt.

15 April, 1864 (Old Tampa): Off loaded molasses & seen the worst with mine own eyes. People muddy as hogs is digging up floors of meat houses & leaching salt that has leaked into the soil. They shovel dirt into hoppers & fire the mess with a blacksmiths furnace. Cheesecloth is dear so it is rank burlap they use as a filter after water boils. 50 people stand in line for a days filthy work & come away with a cup of something that grinds like sand in the teeth but has the tang of salt. Damnt this war & damnt an ocean that won’t part with its salt unless you’re a drowning man. Or own a furnace the size of a steam engine for rendering…

19 April (off Manatee River): Salt Famine! These are words I could not imagine 3 years ago but is now spoken in every port & it is time to act, by God. Gerilla fighting is what is left us. But how to bait a trap when bait is the prize? Gatrell & brothers has voted & not 1 black ball against…

Salt Famine! My great-uncle had underlined the phrase twice and added the only exclamation mark I’d found thus far. He had also underlined steam engine, but did not explain his reference to a vote.

What did it all mean?

In my notes, I underlined the same words, then stretched and went to the restroom before I resumed reading.

20 May, 1864 (Cattle Docks at Punta Rassa): Gatrell & brothers has packed axes & tackle & smudge pots cause we will have to cut our way through the skeeters. It aint far from the bridge but a long stretch of river up [NAME BLOTTED] which runs north off the Caloosahatchee. There be the place to boil salt or so I recollect. As to my Cuban wife, not one word from her as to me spending next Christmas in Habana…

His Cuban wife? I didn’t know which thread to pursue. Many of the entries were new to me and this was the first mention of a wife. But I was also riveted by Capt. Summerlin’s unfolding plan. Or what I perceived to be his intent. He, a man named Gatrell, and Gatrell’s brothers wanted to manufacture salt. They were seeking a source inland which wouldn’t be spotted by the Union Army-and they were willing to fight to do it. This all seemed evident.