BRIEF SKETCH OF THE OFFICERS OF THE SUMTER--HER FIRST PRIZE, WITH OTHER
PRIZES, IN QUICK SUCCESSION--HER FIRST PORT.
Captain Poor, the commander of the _Brooklyn_, was greatly censured by his
Government, for permitting the escape of the _Sumter_. It was even hinted
that there had been treason, in the engine-room of the _Brooklyn_, as one
or more of the engineers had been heard to express sentiments favorable to
the South. There was no truth, of course, in this report. It had its
origin in the brain of a people, who, having become traitors, themselves,
to their former principles, were ready to suspect, and to impute treason
to every one else. The greatest offence which had been committed by
Captain Poor was that he had probably permitted his cupidity to draw him
away from his station. He had chased a prize, in his eagerness to clutch
the prize-money, a little too far--that was all. But in this, he sinned
only in common with his countrymen. The thirst of gain, as well as the
malignity of hate, seemed, from the very first days of the war, to have
seized upon a majority of the Northern people. The Army, and the Navy,
professions hitherto held honorable, did not escape the contamination.
They were soon found, first plundering, and then maliciously burning
private houses. The spectacle of cotton-thieving was more than once
presented by the highest dignitaries of the two services--the Admiral
quarrelling with the General, as ignoble rogues are wont to quarrel, as to
which rightly pertained the booty.
The evening of the escape of the _Sumter_ was one of those Gulf evenings,
which can only be _felt_, and not described. The wind died gently away, as
the sun declined, leaving a calm, and sleeping sea, to reflect a myriad of
stars. The sun had gone down behind a screen of purple, and gold, and to
add to the beauty of the scene, as night set in, a blazing comet, whose
tail spanned nearly a quarter of the heavens, mirrored itself within a
hundred feet of our little bark, as she ploughed her noiseless way through
the waters. As I leaned on the carriage of a howitzer on the poop of my
ship, and cast a glance toward the quarter of the horizon whence the land
had disappeared, memory was busy with the events of the last few months.
How hurried, and confused they had been! It seemed as though I had dreamed
a dream, and found it difficult, upon waking, to unite the discordant
parts. A great government had been broken up, family ties had been
severed, and war--grim, ghastly war--was arraying a household against
itself. A little while back, and I had served under the very flag which I
had that day defied. Strange revolution of feeling, how I now hated that
flag! It had been to me as a mistress to a lover; I had looked upon it
with admiring eyes, had dallied with it in hours of ease, and had had
recourse to it, in hours of trouble, and now I found it false! What wonder
that I felt a lover's resentment?
My first lieutenant now approached me, and touching my elbow, said,
"Captain, had we not better throw this howitzer overboard? it can be of no
further service to us, and is very much in the way." My waking dream was
dissolved, on the instant, and I returned at once to the duties of the
ship. I assented to the lieutenant's proposition, and in a few minutes
more, the poop was cleared of the incumbrance. It was the howitzer--a
heavy, awkward, iron field-piece with huge wheels--which we had received
on board, when we lay between the forts, as a protection against the
enemy's boats. The rest of the night, to a late hour, was devoted to
lashing, and otherwise securing such heavy articles, as were likely to be
thrown from their places, by the rolling of the ship; getting the anchors
in-board and stowing them, and, generally, in making the ship snug. I
turned in after a day of excitement, and slept too soundly to continue the
day-dream from which I had been aroused by my first lieutenant.
The sun rose in an unclouded sky, the next morning, with a gentle breeze
from the south-west, or about abeam; our course being about south-east.
The look-out at the mast-head, after having carefully scanned the horizon
in every direction, informed the officer of the deck, that there was
nothing in sight. The awnings were soon spread, and the usual routine of a
man-of-war, at sea, commenced. The crew was mustered, in clean apparel, at
quarters, at nine o'clock, and a division of guns was exercised, the rest
of the crew being dispersed in idle groups about the deck; the old salts
overhauling their bags, and seeing that their tobacco, and soap, and
needles, and thread were all right for the cruise, and the youngsters
discussing their recent escape. At noon, we found ourselves in latitude
26 deg. 18', and longitude 87 deg. 23'. I had provided myself with two
excellent chronometers, before leaving New Orleans, and having had much
experience as a master, I was always enabled, when the sun was visible,
at the proper hours, to fix my position within from a quarter, to half a
mile, or, what is the same thing, within from one to two seconds of time.
I appointed my junior lieutenant, navigating officer, _pro forma_, but
always navigated my ship, myself. I had every confidence in the ability
of my young lieutenant, but I always found, that I slept better, when
surrounded by danger, after I had fixed the position of my ship, by my
own observations.
We held on our course, during the rest of this day, without the least
incident to break in upon the monotony--not so much as a sail having been
descried in any direction; not that we were in want of excitement, for we
had scarcely regained our equilibrium from the excitement of the previous
day. An occasional swash of the sea against the ship's sides, the
monotonous beating of time by her propeller, an occasional order from the
officer of the deck, and the routine "calls" of the boatswain's whistle,
as dinner, or grog was piped, were the only sounds audible, beyond the
usual hum of conversation among the crew.
If the reader will permit me, I will avail myself of this interval of calm
before the storm, to introduce to him some of my officers. This is indeed
but a courtesy due him, as he is to be a passenger in our midst. On the
afternoon of our escape from the _Brooklyn_, the officers of the ward-room
were kind enough to invite me to drink a glass of wine with them, in honor
of our success, and I will avail myself of this occasion, to make the
presentations. I am seated at one end of the long mess-table, and my first
lieutenant at the other. The first lieutenant, as the reader has already
been informed, by an inspection of the _Sumter's_ muster-roll, is from
Georgia. John McIntosh Kell is a descendant from one of the oldest
families in that State, having the blood of the McIntoshes in his veins,
through one branch of his ancestors. He was bred in the old Navy, and my
acquaintance with him commenced when he was in trouble. He was serving as
a passed midshipman, on board the old sailing sloop _Albany_, and being
ordered, on one occasion, to perform what he considered a menial duty, he
resisted the order. Some of his brother passed midshipmen were in the same
category. A court-martial resulted, and, at the request of the young
gentlemen, I defended them. The relation of counsel, and client, as a
matter of course, brought us close together, and I discovered that young
Kell had in him, the making of a man. So far from being a mutineer, he had
a high respect for discipline, and had only resisted obedience to the
order in question, from a refined sense of gentlemanly propriety. The
reader will see these qualities in him, now, as he sits opposite me. He
has developed since the time I speak of, into the tall, well-proportioned
gentleman, of middle age, with brown, wavy hair, and a magnificent beard,
inclining to red. See how scrupulously neat he is dressed, and how suave,
and affable he is, with his associates. His eye is now beaming gentleness,
and kindness. You will scarcely recognize him, as the same man, when you
see him again on deck, arraigning some culprit, "at the mast," for a
breach of discipline. When Georgia seceded, Lieutenant Kell was well on
his way to the commander's list, in the old Navy, but he would have
scorned the commission of an admiral, if it had been tendered him as the
price of treason to his State. To have brought a Federal ship into the
waters of Georgia, and ravaged her coasts, and fired upon her people,
would have been, in his eyes, little less than matricide. He forthwith
resigned his commission, and joined his fortunes with those of his people.
When it was decided, at Montgomery, that I was to have the _Sumter_, I at
once thought of Kell, and, at my request, he was ordered to the
ship--Commodore Tattnall, with whom he had been serving on the Georgia
coast, giving him up very reluctantly.
Seated next to myself, on my right hand, is Lieutenant Robert T. Chapman.
This gentleman is from Alabama; he is several years younger than Kell, not
so tall, but stouter, in proportion. His complexion, as you see, is dark,
and he has jet-black hair, and eyes--the latter remarkable for their
brilliancy, and for a twinkle of fun, and good humor. Chapman is the life
of the mess-table; always in a pleasant mood, and running over with wit
and anecdote. Though he has a fashion, as you see, of wearing his hair
closely cropped, he is the very reverse of a round-head, being a _preux
chevalier_, as ready for the fight as the dance, and having a decided
preference for the music of the band, over that of "Old Hundred." He is
the second lieutenant, and has, consequently, the easiest berth among the
sea lieutenants, being relieved from the drudgery of the first lieutenant,
and exempt from the calls for extra duty, that are sometimes made upon the
junior lieutenant. When his watch is over, and his division drilled, he is
a gentleman at large, for the rest of the day. You see by his build--a
slight inclination to corpulency--that he is fond of his ease, and that he
has fallen as naturally into the place of second lieutenant, as if it had
been cut out for him on purpose. He also was bred in the old Navy, and was
found to be of the pure metal, instead of the dross, when the touchstone
of secession came to be applied to separate the one from the other.
At Lieutenant Kell's right hand, sits Lieutenant John M. Stribling, the
third lieutenant, and a native of the glorious little State of South
Carolina. He is of medium height, somewhat spare in build, with brown
hair, and whiskers, and mild and expressive blue eyes; the mildness of the
eye only dwelling in it, however, in moments of repose. When excited at
the thought of wrong, or oppression, it has a peculiar stare of firmness,
as much as to say,
"This rock shall fly,
From its firm base as soon as I."
Stribling was also an _eleve_ of the old Navy, and, though tied to it,
by cords that were hard to sever, he put honor above place, in the hour of
trial, and came South.
[Illustration: Kelly, Piet & Co. Baltimore.]
Next to Stribling, sits Lieutenant William E. Evans, the fourth and junior
lieutenant of the ship. He is not more than twenty-four years of age, slim
in person, of medium height, and rather delicate-looking, though not from
ill health. His complexion is dark, and he has black hair, and eyes. He
has a very agreeable, _riante_ expression about his face, and is somewhat
given to casuistry, being fond of an argument, when occasion presents
itself. He is but recently out of the Naval Academy, at Annapolis, and
like all new graduates, feels the freshness of academic honors. He is a
native of South Carolina, and a brother of General Evans of that State,
who so greatly distinguished himself, afterward, at the battle of
Manassas, and on other bloody fields.
If the reader will now cast his eye toward the centre of the table, on my
right hand, he will see two gentlemen, both with black hair and eyes, and
both somewhat under middle size, conversing together. These are Dr.
Francis L. Galt, the Surgeon, and Mr. Henry Myers, the Paymaster, both
from the old service; the former a native of Virginia, and the latter a
native of South Carolina; and opposite these, are the Chief Engineer, and
Marine Officer,--Mr. Miles J. Freeman, and Lieutenant B. Howell, the
latter a brother-in-law of Mr. Jefferson Davis, our honored President. I
have thus gone the circuit of the ward-room. All these officers, courteous
reader, will make the cruise with us, and if you will inspect the
adjoining engraving, and are a judge of character, after the rules of
Lavater and Spurzheim, you will perceive in advance, how much reason I
shall have to be proud of them.
We may now take up our narrative, from the point at which it was
interrupted, for the purpose of these introductions. Day passed into
night, and with the night came the brilliant comet again, lighting us on
our way over the waste of waters. The morning of the second of July, our
second day out, dawned clear, and beautiful, the _Sumter_ still steaming
in an almost calm sea, with nothing to impede her progress. At eight A. M.
we struck the north-east trade-wind, and made sail in aid of steam, giving
orders to the engineer, to make the most of his fuel, by carrying only a
moderate head of steam. Toward noon, a few trade squalls passed over us,
with light and refreshing showers of rain; just enough to cause me to take
shelter, for a few moments, under the lee of the spanker. At noon, we
observed in latitude 23 deg. 4' showing that we had crossed the tropic--the
longitude being 86 deg. 13'. The reader has seen that we have been steering
to the S. E., diminishing both latitude, and longitude, and if he will look
upon the chart of the Caribbean Sea, he will perceive, that we are
approaching Cape San Antonio, the south end of the island of Cuba; but he
can scarcely conjecture what sort of a cruise I had marked out for myself.
The Secretary of the Navy, in those curt sailing orders which we have
already seen, had considerately left me _carte blanche_ as to
cruising-ground, but as I was "to do the greatest injury to the enemy's
commerce, in the shortest time," the implication was, that I should, at
once, throw myself into some one of the chief thoroughfares of his trade.
I accordingly set my eye on Cape St. Roque, in Brazil, which may be said
to be the great turning-point of the commerce of the world. My intention
was to make a dash, of a few days, at the enemy's ships on the south side
of Cuba, coal at some convenient point, stretch over to Barbadoes, coal
again, and then strike for the Brazilian coast. It is with this view, that
the _Sumter_ is now running for the narrow outlet, that issues from the
Gulf of Mexico, between Cape Antonio, and the opposite coast of Yucatan. I
shaped my course for the middle of this passage, but about midnight, made
the light of Cape Antonio right ahead, showing that I had been drifted,
northward, by a current setting, at the rate of from three fourths of a
mile, to a mile per hour. We drew off a little to the southward, doubled
the Cape, with the light still in view, and at nine o'clock, the next
morning, we found ourselves off Cape Corrientes.
The weather had now become cloudy, and we had a fresh trade-wind, veering
from E. to E. S. E., with some sea on. At meridian, we observed in latitude
21 deg. 29', the longitude being 84 deg. 06'. Running along the Cuban
coast, between it and the Isle of Pines, of piratical memory, at about
three in the afternoon, the cry of "Sail ho!" was heard from the mast-head,
for the first time since we had left the mouths of the Mississippi. The
look-out, upon being questioned, said that he saw two sail, and that they
were both right ahead. We came up with them, very rapidly, for they were
standing in our direction, and when we had approached within signal
distance, we showed them the English colors. The nearest sail, which proved
to be a brig, hoisted the Spanish colors, and, upon being boarded, was
found to be from Cadiz, bound for Vera Cruz. She was at once permitted to
proceed. Resuming our course, we now stood for the other sail, which, by
this time, there was no mistaking; she being plainly American, although she
had not yet shown her colors. A gun soon brought these to the peak, when,
as I had expected, the stars and stripes unfolded themselves, gracefully,
to the breeze. Here was our first prize, and a most welcome sight it was.
The capture, I find, upon looking over my notes, was recorded in a few
lines, barren of all incident, or remark, except only that the doomed ship
was from the "Black Republican State of Maine;" but I well recollect the
mingled impressions of joy, and sadness, that were made upon me by the
event. The "old flag," which I had been accustomed to worship, in my
youth, had a criminal look, in my eyes, as it ascended to the peak of that
ship. How strangely we sometimes invest mere inanimate things with the
attributes of life! When I had fired the gun, as a command to the stranger
to heave to, and show his colors, I had hauled down the English, and
hoisted my own flag. The stars and stripes seemed now to look abashed in
the presence of the new banner of the South; pretty much as a burglar
might be supposed to look, who had been caught in the act of breaking into
a gentleman's house; but then the burglar was my relative, and had erst
been my friend--how could I fail to feel some pity for him, along with the
indignation, which his crime had excited? The boarding officer soon
returned from the captured ship, bringing with him the master, with his
papers. There were no knotty points of fact or law to embarrass my
decision. There were the American register, and clearance, and the
American character impressed upon every plank and spar of the ship.
Nothing could exceed the astonishment of the master, who was rather a
mild, amiable-looking gentleman, not at all disposed to go either into
hysterics, or the heroics. "A clap of thunder in a cloudless sky could
not have surprised me more," said he to me as I overhauled his papers,
"than the appearance of the Confederate flag in these seas." "My duty is a
painful one," said I, "to destroy so noble a ship as yours, but I must
discharge it without vain regrets; and as for yourself, you will only have
to do, as so many thousands have done before you, submit to the fortunes
of war--yourself and your crew will be well treated on board my ship." The
prize bore the name of _The Golden Rocket_, was a fine bark, nearly new,
of about seven hundred tons, and was seeking, in ballast, a cargo of sugar
in some one of the Cuban ports. Boats were dispatched to bring off the
crew, and such provisions, cordage, sails, and paints as the different
departments of my ship stood in need of, and at about ten o'clock at
night, the order was given to apply the torch to her.
The wind, by this time, had become very light, and the night was
pitch-dark--the darkness being of that kind, graphically described by old
sailors, when they say, you may cut it with a knife. I regret that I
cannot give to the reader the picture of the burning ship, as it presented
itself to the silent, and solemn watchers on board the _Sumter_ as they
leaned over her hammock rails to witness it. The boat, which had been sent
on this errand of destruction, had pulled out of sight, and her oars
ceasing to resound, we knew that she had reached the doomed ship, but so
impenetrable was the darkness, that no trace of either boat, or ship could
be seen, although the _Sumter_ was distant only a few hundred yards. Not a
sound could be heard on board the _Sumter_, although her deck was crowded
with men. Every one seemed busy with his own thoughts, and gazing eagerly
in the direction of the doomed ship, endeavoring, in vain, to penetrate
the thick darkness. Suddenly, one of the crew exclaimed, "There is the
flame! She is on fire!" The decks of this Maine-built ship were of pine,
calked with old-fashioned oakum, and paid with pitch; the wood-work of the
cabin was like so much tinder, having been seasoned by many voyages to the
tropics, and the forecastle was stowed with paints, and oils. The
consequence was, that the flame was not long in kindling, but leaped,
full-grown, into the air, in a very few minutes after its first faint
glimmer had been seen. The boarding officer, to do his work more
effectually, had applied the torch simultaneously in three places, the
cabin, the mainhold, and the forecastle; and now the devouring flames
rushed up these three apertures, with a fury which nothing could resist.
The burning ship, with the _Sumter's_ boat in the act of shoving off from
her side; the _Sumter_ herself, with her grim, black sides, lying in
repose like some great sea-monster, gloating upon the spectacle, and the
sleeping sea, for there was scarce a ripple upon the water, were all
brilliantly lighted. The indraught into the burning ship's holds, and
cabins, added every moment new fury to the flames, and now they could be
heard roaring like the fires of a hundred furnaces, in full blast. The
prize ship had been laid to, with her main-topsail to the mast, and all
her light sails, though clewed up, were flying loose about the yards. The
forked tongues of the devouring element, leaping into the rigging, newly
tarred, ran rapidly up the shrouds, first into the tops, then to the
topmast-heads, thence to the top-gallant, and royal mast-heads, and in a
moment more to the trucks; and whilst this rapid ascent of the main
current of fire was going on, other currents had run out upon the yards,
and ignited all the sails. A top-gallant sail, all on fire, would now fly
off from the yard, and sailing leisurely in the direction of the light
breeze that was fanning, rather than blowing, break into bright, and
sparkling patches of flame, and settle, or rather silt into the sea. The
yard would then follow, and not being wholly submerged by its descent into
the sea, would retain a portion of its flame, and continue to burn, as a
floating brand, for some minutes. At one time, the intricate net-work of
the cordage of the burning ship was traced, as with a pencil of fire, upon
the black sky beyond, the many threads of flame twisting, and writhing,
like so many serpents that had received their death wounds. The
mizzen-mast now went by the board, then the fore-mast, and in a few
minutes afterward, the great main-mast tottered, reeled, and fell over the
ship's side into the sea, making a noise like that of the sturdy oak of
the forests when it falls by the stroke of the axeman.
By the light of this flambeau, upon the lonely and silent sea, lighted of
the passions of bad men who should have been our brothers, the _Sumter_,
having aroused herself from her dream of vengeance, and run up her boats,
moved forward on her course. The captain of the _Golden Rocket_ watched
the destruction of his ship from the quarter-deck of the _Sumter_,
apparently with the calm eye of a philosopher, though, doubtless, he felt
the emotions which the true sailor always feels, when he looks upon the
dying agonies of his beloved ship, whether she be broken up by the storm,
or perish in any other way.
The flag! what was done with the "old flag"? It was marked with the day,
and the latitude and longitude of the capture, and consigned to the
keeping of the signal quartermaster, who prepared a bag for its reception;
and when this bag was full, he prepared another, and another, as the
cruise progressed, and occasion required. It was the especial pride of
this veteran American seaman to count over his trophies, and when the
weather was fine, he invariably asked permission of the officer of the
deck, under pretence of damage from moths, to "air" his flags; and as he
would bend on his signal-halliards, and throw them out to the breeze, one
by one, his old eye would glisten, and a grim smile of satisfaction would
settle upon his sun-burned, and weather-beaten features. This was our
practice also on board the _Alabama_, and when that ship was sunk in the
British channel, in her engagement with the enemy's ship _Kearsarge_, as
the reader will learn in due time, if he has the patience to follow me in
these memoirs, we committed to the keeping of the guardian spirits of that
famous old battle-ground, a great many bags-full of "old flags," to be
stored away in the caves of the sea, as mementos that a nation once lived
whose naval officers prized liberty more than the false memorial of it,
under which they had once served, and who were capable, when it became
"Hate's polluted rag,"
of tearing it down.
The prisoners--what did we do with them? The captain was invited to mess
in the ward-room, and when he was afterward landed, the officers
generously made him up a purse to supply his immediate necessities. The
crew was put into a mess by themselves, with their own cook, and was put
on a footing, with regard to rations, with the _Sumter's_ own men. We
were making war upon the enemy's commerce, but not upon his unarmed
seamen. It gave me as much pleasure to treat these with humanity, as it
did to destroy his ships, and one of the most cherished recollections
which I have brought out of a war, which, in some sense, may be said to
have been a civil war, is, that the "pirate," whom the enemy denounced,
with a pen dipped in gall, and with a vocabulary of which decent people
should be ashamed, set that same enemy the example, which he has failed to
follow, _of treating prisoners of war, according to the laws of war_.