RICHMOND DURING THE SIEGE.
After the excitement of the last six or eight months I could not long
rest in England, satisfied with the newspaper accounts of the goings on
in the blockade-running world. So I got the command of a new and very
fast paddle-wheel vessel, and went out again. The American Government
had determined to do everything in its power to stop blockade-running,
and had lately increased the force of blockaders on the southern coast
by some very fast vessels built at New York. Being aware of this, some
of the first shipbuilders in England and Scotland were put, by persons
engaged in blockade-running, on their mettle, to try and build steamers
to beat them, and latterly it became almost a question of speed,
especially in the daylight adventures, between blockaders and
blockade-runners.
Some of the vessels on this side of the water were constructed
regardless of any good quality but speed, consequently their scantling
was light, and their seagoing qualities very inferior. Many of them came
to grief; two or three swamped at sea; others, after being out a few
days, struggled back into Queenstown, the lamest of lame ducks; while
some got out as far as Nassau quite unfit for any further work.
My vessel was one of the four built by R---- and G---- of Glasgow, and
was just strong enough to stand the heavy cross sea in the Gulf Stream.
She was wonderfully fast, and, taking her all in all, was a success. On
one occasion I had a fair race in the open day with one of the best of
the new vessels that the American Government had sent out to beat
creation wherever she could meet it, and I fairly ran away from her.
On arriving at Wilmington in my new vessel I started to have a look at
Richmond, which city was then besieged on its southern and eastern sides
by General Grant, who, however, was held in check by Lee at Petersburg,
a small town situated in an important position about eighteen miles from
the capital. To get to Richmond was not easily accomplished without
making a long _détour_ into the interior (for which we had no time), for
the outposts of the contending armies disputed possession of the last
forty miles of the railroad between Wilmington and Petersburg, the
latter town being on the line to Richmond. As telegraphic communication
was stopped, it was a difficult matter to ascertain, day by day, whether
a train could pass safely.
We had in our party the young General Custos Lee, a nephew of the
Confederate commander-in-chief, on his way to his uncle's headquarters,
who kindly offered his assistance in getting us through. When we arrived
at a station some forty miles from Richmond we found, as we feared would
be the case, our further progress by rail impracticable, but we got hold
of a couple of waggons drawn by mules, into which we managed to stow
ourselves and baggage the latter, by the way, being of considerable
importance, as it contained several cases of drinkables, not to be
obtained for love or money where we were going to. We travelled through
all sorts of by-lanes, bumped almost to pieces for four miles, steering
in the direction of the headquarters of the cavalry outposts, which were
commanded by a celebrated raiding officer, also a nephew of the
commander-in-chief. At last we found ourselves in a beautiful green
valley surrounded by thick woods, where the general and his staff were
quartered. He had with him two or three thousand cavalry, who, in spite
of their bad clothing and somewhat hungry appearance, were as
fine-looking a body of men as one would wish to see.
The general and his staff gave us a hearty welcome. Poor fellows, it was
all they had to offer! We on our part produced sundry cases of sardines,
Bologna sausages, and other tempting condiments wherewith to make a
feast.
The drink we mixed in two horse buckets cleaned up for the occasion; a
dozen or so of claret, a couple of bottles of brandy, and half a dozen
of soda water, the whole cooled with two or three lumps of ice (of which
article, as if in mockery, the Southerners had heaps). All these good
things were duly appreciated, not only by our new friends, who for
months past had tasted nothing but coarse rye-bread and pork washed down
with water, but also by well-shaken travellers like ourselves. Lying on
the grass in that lovely spot, it seemed as if the war and all its
horrors were for the moment forgotten. There were several Englishmen
among the officers composing the staff, who had (they said) come out
here to see active service, which they unquestionably had found to their
hearts' content. They seemed the sort of men who would do credit to
their country. I often wonder what has become of them; in one of them I
was particularly interested. He said his name was Cavendish, but it may
have been a _nom de guerre_.
While we were in the camp a picket came in, whose officer reported
having had a skirmish with the enemy, in which the Northerners had been
whipped. The way the cavalry outposts engaged with each other was
curious enough. The ground they met on did not admit of cavalry charges
being made, as thick underwood covered the country for miles round. So,
when they were inclined for a brush, they dismounted, tied their horses
to trees, and skirmished in very open lines, every man picking out his
special enemy. When they had had enough of it, they picked up their
killed and wounded, and, mounting their horses, rode away.
After passing four or five hours with our cavalry friends we bade them
good-bye, and started (still accompanied by our valuable companion, the
young general) on our way to the headquarters of the army, where we were
to pass the night. It was well for us that we travelled in such good
company, for having to pass all along the outskirts of the Southern
army, we were constantly stopped and interrogated by patrols and
pickets. Besides which we were sometimes disagreeably near to the
outposts of the 'boys in blue,' as Grant's men were called. Having
arrived very late in the evening at our destination, we bivouacked under
the trees close to the headquarters of the general commanding, who was
away at the front, and not expected back till the next evening. The
rattle of musketry and the boom of heavy guns all through the night
reminded us of our vicinity to the theatre of war, and somewhat
disturbed our rest. But if we were a little nervous, we took care not to
show it. In the morning we started in our waggons, and, after travelling
a few miles across the country, came to the railway that connected the
camp with Richmond. A train shortly afterwards picked us up and landed
us at the capital of Virginia, where we took up our quarters at a
comfortable-looking hotel. There was more to drink and eat here than at
Charleston, consequently people had cheerful countenances. Liquor was,
however, dear, brandy being sold at twenty-five shillings per bottle, it
having to be run through the blockade. Here we found that the people had
that wonderful blind confidence in the Southern cause which had mainly
supported them through all difficulties.
At this moment, though a line of earthworks hurriedly thrown up in a few
hours at Petersburg was nearly all that kept Grant's well-organised army
from entering the capital; though the necessaries of war, and even of
life, were growing alarmingly short; though the soldiers were badly fed,
and only half-clothed or protected from the inclemency of the weather
(one blanket being all that was allowed to three men), still every one
seemed satisfied that the South would somehow or other gain the day, and
become an independent nation.
While in Richmond I had the pleasure of making the acquaintance of the
talented correspondent of the 'Times,' who, although in a position to
look on calmly at passing events, was so carried away by his admiration
of the wonderful pluck shown by the Southerners, and by the general
enthusiasm of the people among whom he lived, that he allowed himself to
be buoyed up with the hope that something would eventually turn up in
their favour, and in his letters never seemed to despair. Had he done
otherwise he would have stood alone, so he swam with the tide; whereas
all of us, especially those who were mere lookers-on, should have seen
the end coming months before we were obliged to open our eyes to the
fact that it was come. Through his acquaintance with the big-wigs, we
managed to get a few of them to accept an invitation to a feed, as we
could offer luxuries such as could not be found in Richmond.
Some of the first men in the Confederacy honoured us with their
company, and made themselves uncommonly agreeable, seeming quite a jolly
set of fellows. I fear that they have nearly all come to grief since
then, except Mr. Benjamin, the Minister of Foreign Affairs, who before
his death, which occurred several years after the time that I write,
made himself a name in England worthy of his high talents and education.
I had the honour, while in Richmond, of being invited to a tea party by
Mrs. Davis, the President's wife, which I thought very interesting. The
ladies were all dressed in deep mourning; some (the greater part) for
the sad reason that they had lost near and dear relatives in the
wretched war; the others, I suppose, were in mourning for their
country's misfortunes. Mrs. Davis moved about the room saying something
civil to every one, while the President, though a stern-looking man who
never smiled, tried to make himself agreeable to his guests, and gave
one the idea of a thorough gentleman. I saw there military officers who
had lately come from the front, surrounded by groups of people anxious
for news; delegates from distant seceding States; messengers from Hood's
army, about which many were beginning to be anxious; sympathising
foreigners, government officials, and many others. The whole of the
conversation naturally related to the prospects of the cause, and no one
would have guessed from what he heard in President Davis's house that
the end was so near.
I was anxious before my return to see something of the army that had so
long defended Richmond. So I only remained a few days at the capital,
after which I left it and its, alas! too confiding inhabitants, and made
my way as best I could to the headquarters of the commander-in-chief.
There I presented my letters of introduction to General Lee.
It would perhaps be impertinence on my part to attempt to eulogise the
character of this excellent man and good soldier, who, most thoroughly
believing in the justice of the Southern cause, had sacrificed
everything he possessed in its behalf, and had thrown all his energy and
talent into the scale in its favour. Many who knew him well have done
and will continue to do justice to his patriotism and self-denial. I had
a very long conversation with him, which I wish I could repeat without
being guilty of a breach of confidence, as evidence of the sensible
notions he had formed of the state of affairs in the South. He was the
only man I met during my travels who took a somewhat gloomy view of the
military prospects of the country--of which, as a soldier, there could
be no better judge.
After spending twenty-four hours in the camp, we went to the railway
station to see if we could get places for Wilmington. We found that the
line was in the hands of the Southerners, and that although the 'boys in
blue' had a vulgar habit of firing into the carriages as they passed,
the trains were running each night. But a train running and a
non-combatant passenger getting a place in a carriage were widely
different things, every available seat being taken up by sick and
wounded soldiers. I made a frantic effort to get into the train somehow,
and after a severe struggle succeeded in scrambling into a sort of
horse-box and sat me down on a long deal box, which seemed rather a
comfortable place to sleep on. It was pitch dark when I got into the
train, and we were obliged to keep in the dark until we had run the
gauntlet of the Northern pickets, who favoured us with a volley or two
at a long range from the hills overlooking the railway. When we were
clear of them I lighted a match, and to my horror found that I was
comfortably lounging on a coffin. I wished I had not thrown a light on
the subject, but by degrees, becoming accustomed I suppose to my
position, I sank into a comfortable sleep and was really quite sorry
when, on arriving at some station just before daylight, people came to
remove my peculiar though far from uncomfortable couch. I felt its loss
the more, for in its place they put a poor fellow wounded nearly to
death, whose moans and cries were, beyond anything, distressing. We were
a long time getting to Wilmington, as it was necessary to stop and
repair most of the bridges on the line before the train could venture
over them, an operation at which all passengers sound in wind and limb
had to assist.
On arriving there we found all the world in a state of great excitement,
on account of there having been a terrible fire among the cotton lying
on the quays ready for embarkation, supposed to have been the work of an
incendiary.
The recollections of my last proceedings in the blockade-running are far
from pleasant, and I shall pass them over as briefly as possible.
When we had only the American Government cruisers to fear, we enjoyed
the excitement in the same way as a man enjoys fox-hunting (only, by the
way, we were the fox instead of the huntsmen), but when dire disease, in
the worst form that Yellow Jack could take, stalked in amongst us, and
reduced our numbers almost hourly, things became too serious to be
pleasant.
However, before the fever showed itself we made one successful round
trip in the new vessel (in and out) in capital form, having some
exciting chases and little adventures, all very similar to what I have
described before, the vessel doing credit to her designers on all
occasions. We landed one thousand one hundred and forty bales of cotton
at Bermuda, and it was after we had started from Wilmington on our
second trip that the horrid yellow fever broke out among us. I believe
that every precaution was taken by the Government of the island to
prevent the disease from spreading, but increased by the drunkenness,
dissipation, and dirty habits of the crews of the blockade-runners, and
the wretchedly bad drainage of the town of St. George, it had lately
broken out with great violence, and had spread like wildfire, both on
the shore and among the shipping. It must have been brought on board our
ship by some of the men, who had been spending much time on shore; we
had not been twenty-four hours at sea before the fever had got deadly
hold on our crew.
We went to Halifax, where we landed our sick and inhaled some purer air;
but it was of no avail. The fever was in the vessel and we could not
shake it off. The poor fellows as soon as we were out at sea again began
to drop off. I never can forget an incident of that voyage, which, as
it could only have happened during blockade-running times, I will
mention, melancholy though it was. Two men died in the middle watch one
night, when we were in very dangerous waters. Their bodies were wrapped
in rough shrouds, ready to be committed to the deep when daylight broke,
as we dared not show a light whereby to read the Funeral Service. I
never waited so anxiously or thought the dawn so long in coming. I was
waiting with my Prayer-book in my hands straining my eyes to make out
the service; the men with their hats off, standing by the bodies, ready
to ease them down into the sea. Our minds I fear wandered towards the
danger that existed (almost to a certainty) of a cruiser making us out
by the same light that enabled us to perform our sad office. However, as
soon as there was light enough, the service was read without any
indecent hurry, and fortunately nothing was in sight to disturb us for
several hours afterwards.
It was miserable work. That morning about seven o'clock a man came up
from the engine-room, and while trying to say something to me fell down
in a fit, and was dead in half an hour. There was quite a panic among us
all, and as if to make things worse to the superstitious sailors,
whenever we stopped several horrid sharks immediately showed themselves
swimming round the vessel. The men lost all heart, and would I think
have been thankful to have been captured, as a means of escape from what
they believed to be a doomed vessel. Taking into consideration that if
we got into Wilmington we should, with this dreadful disease on board,
have been put into almost interminable quarantine (for the inhabitants
of Wilmington having been decimated before by yellow fever, which was
introduced by blockade-runners, had instituted the most severe sanitary
laws), I determined to go back to Halifax.
On arriving there I was taken very ill with yellow fever, and on my
recovery made up my mind to give up blockade-running for ever and all.
The game indeed was fast drawing to a close. Its decline was caused in
the first by the impolitic behaviour of the people at Wilmington, who,
professedly acting under orders from the Confederate Government at
Richmond, pressed the blockade-runners into their service to carry out
cotton on Government account, in such an arbitrary manner that the
profit to their owners, who had been put to an enormous expense and risk
in sending vessels in, was so much reduced that the ventures hardly
paid. And when at last Fort Fisher was taken, and thus all
blockade-running entirely put an end to, the enterprise had lost much of
its charm; for, unromantic as it may seem, much of that charm consisted
in money-making.
However, I will mention one or two instances to show what the love of
enterprise will lead men to do, and with these I will close my
narration.
On the first night of the attack on Fort Fisher, which it may be
remembered was a failure entirely through bad management, though its
little garrison fought like lions, a blockade-runner unaware of what was
going on, finding that the blockading squadron was very near inshore and
hearing a great deal of firing, kept creeping nearer to the fort, till
she was near enough to make out what they were doing. Judging rightly
that they would never suspect that any attempt would be made to run the
blockade at such a time, she joined a detachment of gun-boats and went
deliberately in as one of them. When they, being repulsed, had steamed
away, our friend remained at anchor under the fort, much to the
astonishment of the garrison. It would have been rather awkward if the
fort had been taken, but in such times no one looks very far ahead.
Another vessel went out from Wilmington the same night, and was
unmolested. But fortune does not always favour the brave. Fort Fisher
was at last taken _unbeknownst_, as the sailors say, to the
blockade-runners at Nassau or Bermuda, at which places the blindest
confidence was still felt in everything connected with the fortunes of
the South, and where to whisper an opinion that any mishap might happen
to Wilmington was positively dangerous. The crafty Northerners placed
the lights for going over the bar as usual. The blockade-runners came
cautiously on, and congratulating themselves at seeing no cruisers ran
gaily into the port. The usual feasting and rejoicings were about to
commence when a boat full of armed men came alongside, and astonished
them by telling them that they were in the lion's mouth. This happened
to four or five vessels before the news had reached the islands. It was
hard lines, no doubt, but quite fair play. It was the blockaders' turn
to laugh now.