THE BLOCKADE-RUNNERS. -- NASSAU AND WILMINGTON. -- WORK OF THE
CRUISERS.
While it is undeniably true that the naval battles of the civil war
were in many cases unimportant as compared with the gigantic
operations of the mighty armies in Virginia and Tennessee, yet there
was one service performed by the navy, alone and unaided, which
probably, more than any thing else, led to the final subjugation of
the South. This was the blockade.
To fully appreciate what a terrible weapon the blockade is when
energetically pursued, one need only look at the condition of the
South during the latter years of the war. Medicines were almost
unattainable for love or money. Salt was more carefully hoarded than
silver. Woollen goods for clothing were not to be had. Nothing that
could not be produced by the people of the revolted States could be
obtained at their markets. Their whole territory was in a state of
siege, surrounded by a barrier only a little less unrelenting than the
iron circle the Germans drew around besieged Paris.
Almost the first war measure of Abraham Lincoln was to declare the
ports of the Confederacy in a state of blockade. At first this seemed
a rash proclamation, and one which could not be sustained by the force
at the command of the Federals. It is a rule of warfare, that
"blockades, to be binding, must be effective;" that is, it is not
lawful for a nation with a small fleet to declare an enemy's coast in
a state of blockade, and then capture such trading-vessels as may
happen to run in the way of its cruisers. The nation must have a large
enough fleet to station vessels before each of the principal harbors
of the enemy, and to maintain a constant and vigilant patrol up and
down his coast. If this cannot be done, the blockade is called a
"paper blockade," and merchantmen are justified in attempting to evade
it. An instance of a "paper blockade" occurred during the early months
of the civil war, which will illustrate this point. Wilmington, N.C.,
was throughout the war one of the favorite ports for blockade-runners.
From its situation, the many entrances to its harbor, and other
natural advantages, it was the most difficult of all the Southern
ports to keep guarded. With the rest of the Confederate ports,
Wilmington was declared blockaded; but it was long after, before a
suitable blockading-fleet was stationed there. In July, 1861, the
British brig "Herald" left Wilmington without molestation. When two
days out, she ran across a United States man-of-war, that promptly
captured her. The courts, however, decided that a port so little
guarded as Wilmington was at that time could not be legally called
blockaded, and the brig was therefore released.
But it did not take many months for the energetic men of the Navy
Department to get together such a fleet of boats of all kinds as to
enable them to effectually seal all the ports of the Confederacy. A
blockading vessel need not be of great strength or powerful armament.
All that is necessary is that she should be swift, and carry a gun
heavy enough to overawe any merchantman that might attempt to run the
blockade. And as such vessels were easy to improvise out of tug-boats,
ferry-boats, yachts, and other small craft, it came about that by the
last of 1861, the people of the seaport towns of the South, looking
seaward from their deserted wharves, could see two or three Federal
cruisers lying anchored off the outer bar, just out of reach of the
guns of shore-batteries. It was a service of no little danger for the
blue-jackets. The enemy were ever on the alert to break the blockade
by destroying the ships with torpedoes. Iron-clad rams were built on
the banks of the rivers, and sent down to sink and destroy the vessels
whose watchfulness meant starvation to the Confederacy. The
"Albemarle" and the "Merrimac" were notable instances of this course
of attack. But the greatest danger which the sailors had to encounter
was the peril of being wrecked by the furious storms which continually
ravage the Atlantic coast. The sailor loves the open sea in a blow;
but until the civil war, no captain had ever dared to lie tugging at
his cables within a mile or two of a lee shore, with a stiff
north-easter lashing the sea into fury. In the blockading service of
our great naval war, the war of 1812, the method in vogue was to keep
a few vessels cruising up and down the coast; and, when it came on to
blow, these ships would put out into the open sea and scud for some
other point. But in '61 we had hundreds of vessels stationed along the
enemy's coast; and where a ship was stationed, there she stayed, to
meet the fury of the wind and waves by putting out more anchors, and
riding out at her cables storms that would have blown the blockader of
1812 hundreds of miles from her post.
In the earlier years of the war the blockade-runners were nearly all
sailing-vessels, schooners, and brigs, that were easily captured. But
when the supplies of the South became exhausted, and the merchants of
England began building ships especially for this purpose, the duty of
the blockading squadron became exciting and often very profitable. The
business assumed such proportions that half the shipyards in England
were engaged in turning out fast steamers to engage in it. At first it
was the custom to send goods in regular ocean-steamers from England to
the blockaded port; but this was soon abandoned, as the risk of
capture on the long run across the Atlantic was too great. Not until
the plan was adopted of shipping the goods to some neutral port along
our coast, and there transferring the cargo to some small, swift
vessel, and making the run into the Confederate port in a few hours,
did the business of blockade-running become very extensive. Goods
shipped for a neutral point were in no danger of being captured by our
cruisers, and therefore the danger of the long trans-Atlantic passage
was done away with.
[Illustration: Nassau: The Haunt of the Blockade-Runners.]
Of these neutral points which served as way-stations for the
blockade-runners, there were four on or near our coast,--the Bermuda
Islands, which lie about seven hundred miles east of Charleston; Nassau,
which is off the coast of Florida, and a little more than five hundred
miles southeast of Charleston; Havana; and the little Mexican town of
Matamoras on the Rio Grande, opposite Brownsville, Texas. The Bermudas
were to some extent used, but their distance from the coast made them
inconvenient as compared with Nassau or Matamoras. Their chief trade was
with Wilmington, which became a favorite port during the latter years of
the war. Havana was popular for a time, and at first sight would appear
to be admirably placed for a blockade-runners' rendezvous. But, though
the coast of Florida was but one hundred miles distant, it was
surrounded by dangerous reefs, its harbors were bad and far apart, and
there were no railroads in the southern part of the State to transport
the contraband goods after they were landed. Besides, Key West, the
naval station of the Union forces in the South, was unpleasantly near,
and the gulf blockade was maintained with more rigor than that on the
Atlantic coast. Matamoras was peculiarly well situated for a
blockade-running point. It is on the Mexican side of the Rio Grande
River, about forty miles above its mouth. Goods once landed could be
shipped in barges and lighters across the river in absolute safety,
since heavy batteries prevented the cruisers of the gulf-squadron from
entering the river. As a result of this trade, Matamoras became a
thriving place. Hundreds of vessels lay in its harbor, where now it is
unusual to see five at a time. For four years its streets were crowded
with heavy freight vans, while stores and hotels reaped a rich harvest
from the sailors of the vessels engaged in the contraband traffic. Now
it is as quiet and sleepy a little town as can be found in all the
drowsy land of Mexico.
But the true paradise of the blockade-runners was Nassau, the chief
port of the Bahama Islands, and a colony of Great Britain. Here all
the conditions necessary to successfully evade the blockade were to be
found. The flag that waved over the island was that of a nation
powerful enough to protect its citizens, and to enforce the laws
relative to neutrality. Furthermore, Great Britain was undoubtedly in
sympathy with the Confederates; and so far from prohibiting the
efforts of her citizens to keep up trade with the blockaded ports, she
encouraged and aided them in every way in her power. And aside from
her mere sympathy with the struggles of the young Confederacy, England
had a most powerful incentive to break down the blockade. In
Manchester the huge cotton-mills, employing thousands of hands, were
shut down for lack of cotton, and the mill-hands were starving for
lack of work; while shut up in the blockaded ports of the South were
tons upon tons of the fleecy staple, that, once in England, would be
worth its weight in gold. It was small wonder that the merchants of
England set to work deliberately to fit out blockade-runners, that
they might again get their mills running, and their people fed.
[Illustration: Cotton Ships at Nassau.]
The years of the war were lively times for the little town of Nassau.
Hardly had the proclamation of President Lincoln announcing the
blockade of all Confederate ports been issued, when at a bound Nassau
became prominent as the point of all most suitable for a
blockade-runners' rendezvous. Its harbor and the surrounding waters
were deep enough for merchant-vessels, but too shallow to allow much
cruising about by warships of heavy armament. It was within a few
hours' running of three Confederate ports, and it was protected by the
flag of Great Britain. Early in the war the Confederates established a
consulate in the little town, and the Stars and Stripes and the Stars
and Bars waved within a few rods of each other. Then great
shipping-houses of Liverpool sent over agents, and established branch
houses. Great warehouses and wharves were built Soon great ocean ships
and steamers began unloading their cargoes at these wharves. Then
swift, rakish schooners began to drop into the harbor, and after
discharging heavy loads of cotton would take on cargoes of English
goods, and slip out at nightfall to begin the stealthy dash past the
watching gunboats. As the war went on, and the profits of the trade
increased with its dangers, a new style of craft began to appear in
the little harbor. These were the Clyde built blockade-runners, on
which the workmen of the Clyde shipyards had been laboring day and
night to get them ready before the war should end. They were long,
low, piratical looking craft, with two smoke-stacks raking aft, and
with one or two masts for showing signals, for they never hoisted a
sail. Two huge paddle-boxes towered above the deck amidships, the
wheels being of enormous size. No structure of any kind encumbered the
deck. Even the steersman stood unsheltered at a wheel in the bow. They
were painted dark gray, and at night could slip unseen along the water
within a stone's-throw of the most watchful lookout on a man-of-war.
They burned great quantities of a kind of coal that gave out no smoke,
and when steaming at night not a light was allowed on board. Many of
these strange craft can be seen now along the levees at New Orleans,
or at the wharves in Mobile, where they are used as excursion-steamers
or for tug-boats. They were always the merest shells, fitted only for
carrying freight, as not many passengers were to be found who desired
to be taken into the Confederate territory. Occasionally, however,
some soldier of fortune from abroad would drift from Nassau, and
thence to the mainland, to join the armies of the Confederacy. The
Confederate agents on the island were always on the lookout for such
adventurers, and were ever ready to aid them. Sometimes, too,
returning agents of the Confederacy from Europe would make the run
through the blockading-fleet; so that the blockade-runners were seldom
without two or three passengers, poor though their accommodations
might be. For the voyage from Nassau to Wilmington, three hundred
dollars passage money was charged, or more than fifty cents a mile. To
guard against treachery, passage could only be obtained through the
Confederate consul, who carefully investigated the proofs of each
applicant's identity before issuing to him a ticket.
When the blockade-runner had taken her cargo and passengers aboard,
and was prepared for her voyage, every one in the little town came
down to the docks to see her start. It was a populace strongly
Southern in feeling that filled the streets of Nassau, and nothing but
good wishes were to be heard on every side. Perhaps from a house on
the hillside, over which floated the Stars and Stripes, the United
States consul might be watching through a spyglass the movements of
the steamer, and wishing in his heart that she might fall in with
some Yankee cruiser; but nevertheless, under his very eyes, the
audacious racer slips out, and starts on her stealthy voyage. On
leaving the harbor, a quick run of fifteen or twenty miles would be
taken along the coast, to try the machinery. Great care would be taken
to keep within British waters, lest some watchful gunboat should seize
the prize thus early in her career. When every thing proved in good
working trim, the little vessel's prow would be turned northward, and
the perilous voyage begun. For the first day, little danger was to be
expected, and the voyage was generally so timed that the outer line of
blockaders would be reached just after nightfall. A soldier going to
enlist in one of the Confederate cavalry regiments thus tells the
story of his evasion of the blockade.
"After a favorable voyage we reached the desired point off Wilmington
at the proper time. A brief stoppage was made, when soon the final
preparations were completed for running the gauntlet of the Federal
blockaders, who would become visible shortly, as we approached nearer
shore. All the lights in the steamer were extinguished, and all
passengers ordered below, only the officers and crew being permitted
to remain on deck. The furnaces were replenished with carefully
selected coal, which would give the greatest amount of heat and the
least smoke. The last orders were given, and every man was at his
appointed place. Presently the boilers hissed, and the paddle-wheels
began to revolve faster and faster, as the fleet little steamer rose
higher and higher in the water from the immense force of the rapid
strokes; she actually felt like a horse gathering himself up under you
for a great leap. After a little while, the few faint sounds from the
deck which we could hitherto faintly catch in the cabin ceased
altogether, and there was the stillness of death except for the sounds
necessarily made by the movements of the machinery. Then we realized
that we were running for our lives past the line of cruisers, and that
at any moment a big shell might come crashing through our cabin,
disagreeably lighting up the darkness in which we were sitting. Our
suspense was prolonged for some minutes longer, when the speed was
slackened, and finally we stopped altogether. Even then we did not
know whether we were safely through the lines, or whether we had been
brought to under the guns of a hostile ship, for we could distinguish
nothing whatever through the portholes. However, we were soon released
from the cabin, and walked on deck, to find ourselves safely through
the blockade. In the offing could be descried several of the now
harmless blockaders, and near at hand lay the coast of North Carolina.
Soon the gray dawn was succeeded by a brilliant, lovely sunrise, which
lighted up cheerfully the low-lying shores and earthworks bristling
with artillery, while from a fort near by floated the Southern Cross,
the symbol of the glorious cause for which we had come to fight."
When the blockade-runner, after safely running the gauntlet of the
warships, steamed leisurely up to the wharves of the blockaded town,
every one rushed to the docks to greet her. Her captain and crew
became at once people of great importance. They were beset on every
side for news of the great world outside. The papers that they brought
in were bought eagerly by the people, hungering for tidings of
something else than the interminable war. The sailors of the steamer,
on being paid off, rambled about the streets of the city, spending
their money royally, and followed by a train of admiring hangers-on.
The earnings of the sailors in case of a successful voyage were
immense. A thousand dollars for the four or five days' trip was
nothing unusual for common seamen, while the captain often received
eight or nine thousand. But the risk of capture, with the confiscation
of all property, and some months' imprisonment in a Federal fortress,
rather marred the attractiveness of the nefarious trade. The profits
of a successful voyage to the owner of the ship and cargo were
enormous. One of the steamers, specially built for the trade, at large
cost, has been known to pay for herself fully in one voyage. Indeed,
the profits must have been huge to induce merchants to take the risk
of absolutely losing a ship and cargo worth half a million of dollars.
It is certain, too, that throughout the war the number of vessels
captured, while trying to run the blockade, was far in excess of those
that succeeded. Up to the end of 1863 the Federal Secretary of the
Navy reported 1,045 vessels captured, classified as follows:
schooners, 547; steamers, 179; sloops, 117; brigs, 30; barks, 26;
ships, 15; yachts and boats, 117. Of course, most of these were small,
coastwise vessels. Even among the steamers captured, there were but
few of the fleet-going, English-built craft.
There was no small amount of smuggling carried on between the ports of
the North and the blockaded ports. The patriotism of the Northern
merchant was not always so great as to prevent his embarking in the
traffic which he saw enriching his English competitor. Many of the
schooners captured started from Northern ports and worked their way
along the coast until that chain of inlets, sounds, and bayous was
reached, which borders the coast south of Chesapeake Bay. Once inside
the bar, the smuggler could run at his leisure for any of the little
towns that stood on the banks of the rivers of Virginia and North
Carolina. The chase of one of these little vessels was a dreary duty
to the officers of the blockading-ships. The fugitives were fast
clippers of the models that made Maine shipbuilders famous, until the
inauguration of steam-navigation made a gracefully modelled hull
immaterial as compared with powerful machinery. Even when the great,
lumbering warship had overhauled the flying schooner so as to bring a
gun to bear on her, the little boat might suddenly dash into some
inlet or up a river, where the man-of-war, with her heavy draught,
could not hope to follow. And if captured, the prize was worth but
little, and the prize-money, that cheers the sailors' hearts, was but
small. But the chase and capture of one of the swift Clyde-built
steamers was a different matter. Perhaps a lookout in the maintop of a
cruiser, steaming idly about the Atlantic, between Nassau and
Wilmington, would spy, far off on the horizon, a black speck, moving
swiftly along the ocean. No curling smoke would tell of the
blockade-runner's presence, and nothing could be seen until the hull
of the steamer itself was perceptible. With the quick hail of the
lookout, the man-of-war would head for the prize, and start in hot
pursuit. Certain it is that the smuggler started to fly before the
watchful lookout on the cruiser caught sight of her. The towering
masts and capacious funnels of the man-of-war, with the cloud of black
smoke from her furnaces, made her a conspicuous object at distances
from which the smuggler would be invisible. With the blockade-runners
the rule was to avoid any sail, no matter how innocent it might seem;
and the appearance of a cloud of smoke on the horizon was the signal
for an immediate change of course, and a flight for safety. When the
chase began in this way, the cruiser had but little chance of making a
capture, for the superior speed of the merchant-vessel would quickly
carry her out of sight. Sometimes, however, a favorable wind would
enable the pursuer to use her sails, and then the chase would become
exciting. With a cloud of canvas set, the man-of-war would gradually
overhaul the flying vessel; and when within range, the great bow-gun
would be cleared, and with a roar a shell would be sent flying after
the prize. All hands would watch its course anxiously. Generally it
fell short. Then another and another messenger would be sent to the
enemy, which seldom struck the mark, for gunnery on a rough sea is a
difficult art. But the blockade-runner can't stand being used for
target-practice long. The cool head of her captain begins to
deliberate upon means of getting out of range. Mere running before the
wind won't do it: so he makes a long detour, and doubles on his
course, heading directly into the teeth of the breeze. Now the cruiser
is at a disadvantage. Her sail-power gone, she stands no chance of
capturing her game. Her shells begin to fall far short of the
smuggler, and soon she ceases firing altogether; and the
blockade-runner, driven hundreds of miles out of her course, but safe
for the time, goes on her way rejoicing.
[Illustration: Blockade-Runner in North Carolina Sounds.]
One of the most brilliant captures of the war was that of the
blockade-runner "Young Republic," by the United States gunboat "Grand
Gulf." The "Young Republic" succeeded in evading the watchfulness of
the blockading-squadron about the mouth of the Cape Fear River, and
under cover of the night ran in safely to the anchorage under the guns
of the Confederate forts. The baffled blockaders saw her moving slowly
up the river, while the cannon of the forts on either side thundered
out salutes to the daring vessel that brought precious supplies to the
Confederacy. But the blockading-squadron, though defeated for the
time, determined to wait and catch her when she came out. Accordingly
the "Grand Gulf," one of the fastest of the United States vessels, was
stationed at the mouth of the river, with orders to watch for the
"Young Republic." A week passed, and there was no sign of her. At
last, one bright day, the lookout in the tops saw the mast and funnel
of a steamer moving along above the forest which lined the river's
bank. Soon the hull of the vessel came into view; and with a rattle of
hawse-chains, her anchors were let fall, and she swung to beneath the
protecting guns of the fort. It was clear that she was going to wait
there until a dark or foggy night gave her a good chance to slip past
the gunboat that watched the river's mouth as a cat watches the mouth
of a mouse-hole. With their marine glasses the officers on the gunboat
could see the decks of the "Young Republic" piled high with brown
bales of cotton, worth immense sums of money. They thought of the huge
value of the prize, and the grand distribution of prize-money, and
determined to use every effort to make a capture. Strategy was
determined upon, and it was decided to give the blockade-runner the
chance to get out of the river that she was awaiting. Accordingly the
gunboat steamed away up the coast a few miles, leaving the mouth of
the river clear. When hidden by a projecting headland, she stopped and
waited for the blockade-runner to come out. The stokers were kept hard
at work making the great fires roar, until the steam-gauge showed the
highest pressure the boilers could bear. The sailors got out
additional sails, clewed up cordage and rigging, and put the ship in
order for a fast run. When enough time had elapsed, she steamed out to
see if the "Young Republic" had taken the bait. Officers and crew
crowded forward to catch the first sight around the headland. The
great man-of-war sped through the water. The headland was rounded, and
a cheer went up from the crowd of jackies; for there, in the offing,
was the blockade-runner, gliding through the water like a dolphin, and
steaming for dear life to Nassau. Then the chase began in earnest. The
"Young Republic" was one of those long, sharp steamers built on the
Clyde expressly for running the blockade. Her crew knew that a long
holiday in port, with plenty of money, would follow a successful
cruise; and they worked untiringly to keep up the fires, and set every
sail so that it would draw. On the cruiser the jackies saw visions of
a prize worth a million and a half of dollars; and the thought of so
much prize-money to spend, or to send home, spurred them on. For
several hours the chase seemed likely to be a long, stern one; but
then the freshening wind filled the sails of the gunboat, and she
began to overhaul the fugitive. When within a mile or two, she began
firing great shells with her pivot-gun. Then the flying
blockade-runner began to show signs of fear; and with a good glass the
crew could be seen throwing over bale after bale of the precious
cotton, to lighten the vessel. In the last thirty miles of the chase
the sea was fairly covered with cotton-bales. More than three hundred
were passed floating in the water; and the jackies gnashed their
teeth, and growled gruffly, at the sight of so much wealth slipping
through their fingers. On the high paddle-wheel box of the
blockade-runner, the captain could be seen coolly directing his crew,
and now and again turning to take a look through his glass at the
pursuer. As the chase continued, the certainty of capture became more
and more evident. Then the fugitives began throwing overboard or
destroying every thing of value: furniture, silver-ware,
chronometers, the fittings of the cabin, every thing that could
benefit their captors, the chagrined blockade-runners destroyed. The
officers of the gunboat saw that if they wished to gain any thing by
their capture, they must make haste. At the risk of an explosion, more
steam was crowded on; and the gunboat was soon alongside the "Young
Republic," and in a position to give her an enormous broadside. The
blockade-runner saw that he was caught and must submit. For lack of a
white flag, a pillow-case was run up to the masthead, and the beating
of the great wheels stopped. The davits amidships of the "Grand Gulf"
are swung out, and a boat's crew, with a lieutenant and dapper
midshipman, climb in. A quick order, "Let fall there," and the boat
drops into the water, and is headed for the prize. Another moment, and
the stars and stripes supplant the pillow-case waving from the
masthead of the "Young Republic." An officer who went into the
boiler-room found that the captured crew had planned to blow up the
vessel by tying down the safety-valve, so that an enormous pressure of
steam strained the boilers almost to bursting. A quick blow of a
hatchet, and that danger was done away with. Then, with a prize-crew
on board, the "Young Republic" started on her voyage to New York;
while the "Grand Gulf" returned to Wilmington to hunt for fresh game.
[Illustration: Pursuing a Blockade-Runner.]
A curious capture was that of the British schooner "Francis," which
was running between Nassau and the coast of Florida. On her last trip
she was nearing the coast, when she fell in with a fishing-smack, and
was warned that a Federal gunboat was not far away. Still she kept on
her course until sundown, when the breeze went down, and she lay
becalmed. The gunboat had been steaming into inlets and lagoons all
day, and had not sighted the schooner. When night came on, she steamed
out into the open sea, within a quarter of a mile of the
blockade-runner, and, putting out all lights, lay to for the night.
Those on the schooner could see the gunboat, but the lookout on the
cruiser did not see the blockade-runner. Soon a heavy fog came up, and
entirely hid the vessels from each other. The blockade-runners could
only hope that a breeze might spring up, and enable them to escape.
But now a curious thing occurred. It almost seems as if two vessels on
the ocean exercise a magnetic attraction for each other so often do
collisions occur where there seems room for all the navies of the
world to pass in review. So it was this night. The anxious men on
the schooner soon found that the two vessels were drifting together,
and they were absolutely powerless to prevent it. At midnight, though
they could see nothing, they could hear the men on the gunboat
talking. Two hours after, the schooner nestled gently up by the side
of the gunboat; and a slight jar gave its crew their first intimation
that a prize was there, simply waiting to be taken. All they had to do
was to climb over the railing. This was promptly done, and the
disgusted blockade-runners were sent below as prisoners. Half an hour
later came a breeze that would have carried them safely to port.
The gray sea-fogs played many scurvy tricks with the
blockading-fleets, often letting the runners in right under the
muzzles of the great guns. It was far easier to spy out a vessel in
the darkest night than in the thick gray fog that enveloped all
objects like a blanket. One of the strangest of all the pranks played
by the fog occurred in December, 1863, in Charleston Harbor. A wary
blockade-runner was creeping out of the harbor, within easy range of
the great guns of the fleet, and all hands were trembling, lest at any
minute should come the flash of a gun, and shriek of a shell, bearing
a peremptory command to heave to. Suddenly the flash came, and was
followed by the bang! bang! of great guns from all quarters of the
fleet. But the fire seemed pointed in another direction; and the
runner made the best of her way out to sea, thinking that some less
fortunate vessel, trying to come in on the other side of the fleet,
had been captured or blown out of the water. It turned out that a
small fog-bank had taken the form of a gray steamer moving swiftly
over the water, and had been fiercely cannonaded by the whole Federal
fleet. This occurrence gave the Confederates an idea; and they began
sending out dummies to engage the fleet, while the true
blockade-runners would slip out unobserved in the excitement. One
night as the tide was running out with great force, an old hulk was
cut adrift from a wharf, and drifted down rapidly upon the Federal
fleet. It was just after the exploits of the "Merrimac" had made
Confederate rams famous, and the naval officers were a little nervous.
The hulk drifted quite into the midst of the fleet before being
observed; and when she was hailed she bore down on the largest of the
men-of-war as though she were a powerful ram, steered by a commander
of desperate bravery. The great gunboat's deck rang with the bo's'n's
whistle, as the crew were piped to repel boarders, and to their
quarters at the guns. A fierce fire was poured on the hostile craft,
that came on sullenly, as if scorning to make reply. One by one the
other vessels of the fleet drew near, and concentrated their fire on
the wretched lumber schooner. It was too much for her; and she gave up
the unequal combat, and sank to the bottom. For days after, the
gallant tars of the squadron blockading Charleston rejoiced in the
destruction of a "Rebel ram;" but none of them knew, that, while they
were engaged in the desperate contest, two great blockade-runners,
heavily laden with cotton, had slipped out of the harbor, and were
well under way for Nassau.
Stories of adventure and of desperate pluck and dash abound in the
records of the blockade. Both among the officers of the
blockading-fleets, and the commanders of the runners, were found great
courage and fine seamanship. One fact is particularly noticeable to
the student of the blockade: an English captain running the blockade
would never dare the dangers that a Confederate would brave without a
tremor. A Confederate captain would rush his ship through the hostile
fleet, and stick to her until she sunk; while an Englishman would run
his ship ashore, and take to the woods. The cases of the "Hattie,"
commanded by H. S. Lebby, a Confederate, and the "Princess Royal," a
fine, staunch, iron steamer, with an English commander and crew, are
typical. The "Hattie" was the last runner to enter or leave Charleston
Harbor. She was a small, swift steamer; but she made more successful
trips than any other runner. Men living in Charleston to-day, who were
interested in the work of this little vessel during the war, say that
her cargoes were worth at least fifty millions of dollars. She had
numerous narrow escapes, but was never captured. Her reputation was
such that the Confederate authorities selected her as the vessel to
bring in army supplies and ammunition, and at least three battles were
fought with ammunition brought in her hold. Her last entrance to
Charleston was one night in February, 1865. Eighteen Federal vessels
lay anchored off the harbor, and for a runner to venture in seemed
madness. But the captain of the "Hattie" was used to taking desperate
chances, and he proposed to enter that harbor. The ship had been
freshly painted a blue-white, and as she drifted along the water, with
all lights out, looked like a bank of mist. She was within two hundred
yards of the outer row of blockaders before her presence was detected.
Suddenly fire was opened on her from the nearest gunboat, and in an
instant the air was full of rockets announcing her presence. The
little vessel had no means of retaliation: all there was for her to do
was to dash through the fire and make for the city. Steam was crowded
on; and she flew up the channel, running the gauntlet of the fleet,
and escaping almost untouched. Then came the real peril. Just below
Fort Sumter were two barges anchored in the channel, and filled with
armed men. Past these she dashed, her great speed saving her from
boarding; but she received the fire of both boats, which wounded
several of her crew, and cut off the fingers of the pilot's hand
resting on the wheel. This danger past, there was one more to be met.
A large monitor lay anchored up the harbor, and the "Hattie" was
running so close to her that the commands of the officers in the
turret could be clearly heard. One after the other the two great guns
were fired, both shots missing; and the "Hattie," safely past the
gauntlet, sailed up to the dock in triumph. But by that time it was
clear that the last days of the war were near at hand, and accordingly
the work of unloading and reloading the vessel for her outward trip
was pressed with the greatest vigor. All the time she lay at her dock,
Charleston was being vigorously bombarded by the Federal men-of-war
lying outside the harbor. The bay fairly swarmed with blockading
cruisers; yet a week later the little steamer slipped out through a
fleet of twenty-six cruisers without being hailed, and carried her
cotton safely to market. When the news of Lee's surrender was
received, she was lying safe at her dock in Nassau.
The "Princess Royal," to which we have alluded, was a large iron screw
steamer, freighted with drugs, army supplies, guns, and two engines
and boilers for two iron-clads in Charleston Harbor,--a most valuable
and important cargo for the Confederates. She made the run from Nassau
to a point near the coast without adventure, and in the early gray of
the morning was stealing up the coast towards the harbor, when a
blockader caught sight of her, and started in pursuit. The later began
firing when a mile and a half away; and, though there was hardly a
chance of the shots taking effect, the cannonade gave the captain of
the runner the cold shakes. His boat was one of the fastest on the
ocean, and he needed only to put on steam to escape all the blockaders
on the coast. But he was a thorough paced coward; and, thinking only
of his own safety, he headed the craft for the beach, and with his
crew fled into the woods. The valuable ship and her cargo fell into
the hands of the Federals.
Sometimes runners were captured through apparently the most trivial
accidents. One ship, heavily laden with army supplies, and carrying a
large number of passengers, was running through the blockading-fleet,
and seemed sure of escape. All lights were out, the passengers were in
the cabin, not a word was to be heard on deck, even the commands of
the officers being delivered in whispers. Suddenly a prolonged
cock-crow rent the air, and, with the silence of every thing
surrounding, sounded like a clarion peal from a trumpet. The
deck-hands rushed for a box of poultry on the deck, and dragged out
bird after bird, wringing their necks. The true offender was almost
the last to be caught, and avenged the deaths of his brothers by
crowing vigorously all the time. The noise was enough to alarm the
blockaders; and in a moment the hail, "Surrender, or we'll blow you
out of water!" brought the unlucky runner to a standstill,--a
prisoner. The "Southern Cross" narrowly escaped capture on account of
the stupidity of an Irish deck-hand, whose craving for tobacco proved
too strong for his discretion. The ship was steaming slyly by two
cruisers, and in the darkness would have escaped unseen, when the
deck-hand, who had been without a smoke as long as he could stand it,
lit a match and puffed away at his pipe. The tiny flame was enough for
the cruisers, and they began a spirited cannonade. The "Southern
Cross" ran for her life. The shooting was guess-work, but the gunners
on the cruisers showed all the proverbial Yankee skill at guessing.
The first ball carried away the roof of the pilot-house, and the
second ripped away the railing along the deck for thirty feet. But the
captain was plucky, and made a run for it. He was forced to pass
within a hundred feet of one of the cruisers; and as he saw the
muzzles of the great guns bearing on his ship, he heard the command,
"Heave to, or I'll sink you." But he took his chances, and escaped
with only the damage caused by a solid shot crashing through the hull.
One of the strangest experiences of all was that of the captain of a
blockade-runner putting in to Wilmington one bitter cold night, when
the snow was blowing in clouds, and the fingers of the men at the
wheel and the sailors on watch were frostbitten. The runner had
reached the harbor safely; but there in channel lay a blockader in
such a position that any ship coming in must pass within a hundred
feet of her. The Confederate had a light-draught vessel, and tried to
squeeze through. When he passed the gunboat, only twelve feet of
space separated the two vessels; and he saw a lookout, with his arms
on the rail, looking right at the passing vessel. The Confederate
expected an immediate alarm, but it did not come. Wondering at the
cause, but happy in his luck, he sped on, and gained the harbor
safely. Some days after, he learned that the lookout was a dead man,
frozen at his post of duty.
It will readily be understood that the inducements offered to
blockade-runners must have been immense to persuade men to run such
risks. The officers and sailors made money easily, and spent it
royally when they reached Nassau. "I never expect to see such flush
times again in my life," said a blockade-running captain, speaking of
Nassau. "Money was as plentiful as dirt. I have seen a man toss up a
twenty-dollar gold piece on "heads or tails," and it would be followed
by a score of the yellow boys in five seconds. There were times when
the bank-vaults could not hold all the gold, and the coins were dumped
down by the bushel, and guarded by soldiers. Men wagered, gambled,
drank, and seemed crazy to get rid of their money. I once saw two
captains bet five hundred dollars each on the length of a certain
porch. Again I saw a wager of eight hundred dollars a side as to how
many would be at the dinner-table of a certain hotel. The Confederates
were paying the English big prices for goods, but multiplying the
figures by five, seven, and ten as soon as the goods were landed in
Charleston. Ten dollars invested in quinine in Nassau would bring from
four hundred to six hundred dollars in Charleston. A pair of
four-dollar boots would bring from fourteen to sixteen dollars; a
two-dollar hat would bring eight dollars, and so on through all the
list of goods brought in. Every successful captain might have made a
fortune in a year; but it is not believed that five out of the whole
number had a thousand dollars on hand when the war closed. It was come
easy, go easy."