On Board the McClellan
The start for Dixie--The McClellan is not the Creole--A tough
crowd--Man overboard--Martial law proclaimed--Arrest of the
rioters--Storm at sea--Stop at Key West--In New Orleans again.
I reached New York on my return journey Feb. 23, and sent my trunk to
the Creole, which was to sail the next morning. Returning to the
Washington Hotel for the night, I found Daniel McElwee, who told me if I
would wait until Saturday he would send me through free of expense. This
was inducement enough for me to send and get my trunk and wait. Sixty
dollars saved in three days was not to be missed even at the risk of a
slower boat and poorer accommodations. John Thompson was also there.
With a letter from Daniel to George Starr, the head of the
transportation department, we went and gave him a call. He seemed glad
of a chance to do his friend McElwee a favor, telling me to be on board
the transport McClellan on Saturday morning and he would do the rest. I
had promised Mrs. Gibson to call on my way back and tell her more about
her brother, Lieutenant John Mathers, and we next went there. From there
to Brooks Brothers to find out about Colonel B.'s clothes, and then back
to the Washington, where I met several old acquaintances and spent a
very pleasant evening. The next morning I got to thinking of a donation
party that was to come off at the city that night, and how nice it would
be to drop in and surprise them. By train time I had figured out a
programme that would cost no more than waiting in New York, and at 8 P.
M. I was in Amenia, and in one of the worst storms of the whole winter.
Rain, snow, and hail, and a high wind to drive it. There was nothing to
do but go to Putnam's and stay over. The next day I took the stage to
the city and and found out the donation party did not come off. The
storm continued and for all I could do it would not stop. I put in the
day as best I could and the next morning went back to Amenia and took
the train for New York, having been within five miles of home, when they
supposed I was somewhere on the Atlantic. I put up at the Washington but
found no one with whom I was acquainted. I spent a dull enough evening,
and went to bed disgusted with everything, but mostly with myself for
putting such a miserable finish to the vacation which I had so longed
for and had so much enjoyed.
_February 27, 1864._
I was on board the McClellan at 10 o'clock, as agreed upon, and found
Mr. Starr already there. He introduced me to the captain, the surgeon,
and the purser, as his friend, whom he wished them to give as good as
the boat afforded, and to land me safely in New Orleans, as a personal
favor to him. They appeared to know him well, and seemed glad to do him
the favor. I told Mr. Starr I felt under great obligations. He said as
he could not fight for his country himself, he was happy to help those
who could, and said: "If you ever get the chance, just give the
Rebellion one blow for George Starr." But after all said and done, the
McClellan is not the Creole. It is a government transport, much after
the pattern of the Arago. There are a dozen or so of military officers
on board, one of them with an eagle on his shoulder, several with one
and two bars, and the rest like myself, second lieutenants, with their
bars to get. I was given a stateroom to myself, but not very much like
the one I had coming home. However, beggars must not be choosers. The
cargo so far as I could see was commissary stores and other warlike
material. We went a little way out into the stream and anchored, and
soon a smaller vessel came alongside with the toughest-looking lot of
people I had ever seen together. There were four hundred of them, and
they were counted as they stepped on board, as sheep are, running
through a gate. They were stowed in below, just as we were on the Arago,
only there being so few they had plenty of room. I had never seen such
evil-looking faces on human beings as some of them had. The purser told
me they were conscripts, deserters and bounty jumpers; that they had
been in close confinement, and for safety were not brought on board
until we were away from the dock. Their language was as vile as their
faces, and they seemed to have neither fear nor respect for the officers
who had charge of them. Not all were like that, but there was quite a
sprinkling of them. There was perhaps a company of soldiers in uniform
and with arms, which I found to be men who had been sick or wounded, and
were now returning to their regiments. The last to come on board were a
couple who it appears had gotten away while on their way from prison to
the boat, and had been rounded up by the police. One of these was
accused of robbing another of a hundred-dollar bill, and as the accuser
had some proof the fellow was stripped on deck, but no money was found
on him or in his clothes. Just as he was to be released, one of the
soldiers I have mentioned stepped up and running his finger in the
thief's mouth hooked out what I supposed was a chew of tobacco, but
which proved to be the hundred-dollar bill. He was then allowed to go
below. Then we started for Dixie. The wind blew like a hurricane and we
were soon in rough water. Rain kept falling, and altogether it was a
most dismal setting out. Soon a great rumpus was heard below, and
something that sounded like shooting. The officers in charge of them
paid more attention to a demijohn of whiskey they had than to the men.
So it went till night. Cries of murder were heard and such cursing and
swearing and quarreling I never heard even in the army. A man came in
the cabin with a broken arm, and told who broke it, but nothing was done
about it. A little Dutch doctor undertook to set it, but both the doctor
and the patient were drunk and got to quarreling, and the man was
hustled back with the broken bone unset. Altogether it was the blackest
picture I had ever looked upon. I shut myself in my little coop
wondering how it all would end, and hating myself for deserting the
Creole, for a free ride on this old tub. If I had a chance to swap the
$60 I had saved for a berth on the Creole, the bargain would have been
made then and there.
_February 28, 1864._
_Sunday._ The wind continued strong and against us, and all was quiet
below. The whiskey had given out. The man with the broken arm was sober
now. He had suffered all night, and his arm was swollen badly. The Dutch
doctor was seasick, as were many others. The ship's surgeon fixed up the
broken arm as well as it could be done in the condition it was. The day
passed off after a while, and nothing worth noting happened.
_February 29, 1864._
_Monday._ The last day of winter. The wind kept dead ahead and blew
strong. The waves were higher than any I ever before saw. I got
acquainted with a Captain Reynolds, and was surprised to find him a
brother to Captain Reuben Reynolds of our regiment. He was much
surprised to find I knew his brother and to hear so direct about him. He
is so much like his brother I seem to have known him a long time. The
performance below has begun again. The officers have but little
influence over them. One of them, a captain at that, went down to quiet
them and was hit with something and his eyebrow cut open. There is so
little light below, it is dangerous going about among the devils down
there. Some have money and the others steal it like highwaymen. A man
who looked and acted like a crazy man came in the cabin and declared he
was afraid for his life. As the day wore on the deviltry grew worse.
Captain Gray told the officers in command that unless they could
control them he would stop at the nearest port and land them. He is
afraid of fire, as they smoke and have open lights all the time. Several
of them are known to have revolvers, and to have fired them. The
officers I think are afraid of them and I don't know that I wonder.
There are six or eight ringleaders, and the peaceably inclined have to
submit to anything they say. At least a dozen complaints were made
to-day and all were against a few, of whom they are in terror.
_March 2, 1864._
_Wednesday._ After breakfast, and as we were mostly on deck smoking, a
man rushed up from below and went out upon the guard in front of the
wheel house as if to have a wash up from the tub standing there. His
manner, and the look upon his face, attracted the attention of several.
He pulled off his coat, and throwing up his hands sang out, "Good-bye,
all," and jumped off directly in front of the wheel. We rushed to the
rail in time to see him come up behind the wheel, and strike out to
swim. He had hit something, for his head and face were bloody. "Man
overboard," was yelled by everyone, and chairs or any other thing handy
was thrown towards him. The vessel was stopped, but by this time the man
was far astern, and only to be seen as he rose on the waves, which were
quite high. A boat was lowered and put out after him, and that, too, was
hidden from view about half the time. The man, as near as I could judge
the distance, was a half mile away by this time, though by watching the
place he could be made out every time he came up in sight. Those who had
glasses watched him until the boat seemed almost to him, and said that
as he lay in plain sight on the uphill side of a wave he suddenly went
down. One of the crew said sharks were always prowling about near a ship
at sea, watching for anything thrown out, and if one of them crossed the
trail of blood which the man must have left, it would follow him like a
streak of lightning. He thought it strange he had been let alone so
long, and had no doubt that a shark was the cause of his going down so
suddenly. The McClellan had come round so as to face the wind, and
waited for the boat to come back, which it did just before noon. A rope
was thrown out and caught, and after several times trying, the boat was
got close enough to be hauled up, men and all. While this was going on,
nearly everyone on board had come on deck. A few, with the best-looking
faces, were brought to the quarter-deck and questioned, and the stories
they told of the doings below could hardly be believed. Everything short
of murder had been done. The worst of the lot had so terrorized the rest
that they dared not report them for fear of what might happen to
themselves. The man who jumped overboard had been so abused for coming
to the cabin the night before, that he took the only other course to get
rid of it that seemed open to him.
Now that the whiskey was gone, the most of them were willing and anxious
to be decent, but were in such mortal terror of the ringleaders that
they dared not make a move to bring them to justice. After hearing the
stories, which were all of one kind. Colonel Zotroski (that's the way it
sounds), being the ranking officer on board, took command and declared
martial law. He summoned every military officer and the armed soldiers
to the quarter-deck. These soldiers had, by the way, kept apart from the
others and had not been molested. After taking the names, he appointed
an officer of the day, and I was almost paralyzed to hear my name called
as officer of the guard. A guard was detailed from among the armed men,
and then I got orders to station them at different places below, and to
arrest and put in irons any who created a disturbance or disobeyed an
order given them. Also to allow no smoking between decks. Scared most
out of my wits, I took the first relief and went below. I posted them
where they could see all parts of the room they were in, and one on the
next deck below, in a smaller room where the cooking was done, giving
them the orders I had received from the officer of the day. I then
started back up the ladder, when some one caught me by the feet, just as
I had my hands on a brass railing that ran beside the opening to the
deck above. That hand-hold saved me. I yanked one foot loose and with
the heel of my boot jammed the knuckles of the hands holding me so they
let go and I was free. I said nothing, out loud, but went straight to my
room for my revolver. I came back just in time to see the guard I had
posted in the kitchen tumble out on deck, all spattered with hot
potatoes which had been thrown at him, some burning him severely. He was
mad clear through and was ready to shoot, and I wished we were in the
open where loaded guns could be used. I took him back to the same post
and told him to bayonet the first man that attempted to lay hands on
him. A great big hulk of a fellow stepped out from the crowd and coming
close up, said, "Good, old hoss, if you want any help just call on me."
I made all the allowance I could for his manner of speech, thanked him,
and went where I could see what went on without being seen by him.
Pretty soon he started as if going past the guard, and when opposite him
made a quick grab and got hold of the gun barrel, and the fight was on.
Before I could get there the guard was down and ready to be tumbled on
deck again. It was just what was needed to bring my Dutch up to the
fighting point. I grabbed the tough by the collar with one hand and with
the other jammed the muzzle of a cocked revolver against his ugly face,
telling him to climb that ladder or die. He was a coward after all and
went on deck as meek as you please, where I handcuffed him to the
rigging and went back after more. Another was pointed out and when I
beckoned to him he came right along. The well-disposed took courage and
in a little while had two more on deck, where I handcuffed them fast in
different places. I now had four, but the worst one of the lot could not
be found. He was said to be the leader in all the deviltry that had
been going on. The men said they would watch for him and let me know the
minute he was found. I went on deck, where I found several men who had
been robbed by the man yet at large, of sums totaling $211. Another said
the one I got first had stolen a shirt from him and was then wearing it.
My orders said nothing about restoring stolen property, so the matter
was carried up to Colonel Zotroski, who told me to act my pleasure about
it. It was my pleasure to take off the handcuffs and let the owner of
the shirt take it off the thief's back. After locking him fast again, I
went on with the search for the missing one. I wanted to find him while
my gritty spell lasted, for, from all accounts, he was a desperate
character and the leader of the gang. Just before dark one of the
watchers came and told me they had located him under a berth, and they
thought he was asleep. Sure enough he was, sound asleep between the
floor and a lower berth. I took him by the leg and had plenty of help to
haul him out. He had a revolver and a cheese knife with him, but in the
narrow quarters, and in the jiffy of time it took to get out, had no
chance to use either. There were as many hands as could get a hold, and
by the time I reached the deck he was there. A madder man I never saw.
The men he had robbed were there and I told them to go through him and
see what they could find. Although he was handcuffed, he was so handy
with his feet that shackles had to be put on before the search for the
money began. Wrapped around one ankle was the money, just two hundred
and eleven dollars. As that amount was what the victims claimed to have
lost, it was given back to them to divide up. As I fastened the villain
to the pump, the handiest thing there was, he swore all sorts of
vengeance on me, saying he would see my heart's blood if he had to wait
twenty years for it. Besides the knife found on him, his revolver had
three empty shells, showing he had used it, and probably would have used
it again if he had been found while awake. I was mighty glad sleep
overtook him before I did, for if it had not the day's doings might read
differently.
All was quiet now, and at the supper table I found myself to be quite a
somebody. Some with whom I had not spoken before took pains to speak now
and to congratulate me on the result of the day's work. But if they had
known how scared I was when I went at the job, and how little bravery
was really necessary to arrest four cowards and one sleeping bad man,
they might have thought differently. But I hope never again to feel as I
did when I arrested the first man. There was murder in my heart, and the
man's wilting as he did is all that saved me from being a murderer. If
that is bravery, I am glad I have so little of it.
After supper Captain Gray asked me to use his room on deck for my
headquarters, and as I must be up all night I was very thankful for such
a nice place. The captain's bunk was in a room adjoining and he turned
in, leaving me alone. A map of the ocean's bottom lay on a table. The
depth of water all along the coast and for a distance from it was marked
on the map. The wind came up between nine and ten o'clock and howled
terribly. The captain came out and looked at the barometer hanging on
the wall. He said it was all right yet, but if it got to a certain
point, which he showed me, it would mean a much bigger blow. I went the
rounds about once an hour, and found it very difficult to walk on the
deck. The prisoners were where I put them, and in spite of all I began
to feel sorry for them. But not knowing what to do with them I left them
to suffer a little, thinking it would be no more than they deserved.
To stop smoking between decks was not so easy as it might seem. On every
round I made I had smelled tobacco smoke, but had not located a single
smoker. Finally I saw what I knew was a lighted cigar in an alley along
the outside tier of bunks, and where the light from the lamp did not
reach. It was after midnight, and all but those on duty were supposed
to be asleep. This fellow did not see me until I was right upon him. I
took the cigar from his mouth, dropped it on the floor and put my foot
on it. Neither of us said a word, and I found no more smoking after
that.
At midnight the wind was something awful to hear or feel. After one of
my rounds I came in and found the barometer pointing to the very place
the captain had pointed out. When I told Captain Gray of it, he jumped
up and pulled a bell handle. Soon another officer came and they
consulted together. A change of direction was decided upon, and then
there was more pulling of bell handles, and they both went out. Soon
after this the ship seemed to be going over. A tremendous thump, a
smashing of timber, and a great rush of water all came together. I
thought the ship was sinking or had run afoul of something. I started
out and was glad to get under cover again. The deck was wet and water
was dripping from everything. The deck was so high from the water I did
not think it possible the waves could reach it, and yet as it was not
raining I had to think they had been very much higher, for the water was
running down from everything. The prisoners were alive yet, for I could
hear them yell and swear. After a little the ship stopped rolling and
only pitched and dove. I ventured out and found it raining and the wind
blowing harder than ever. The poor wretches fast to the rigging were
repentant now and begged for some better place. I looked about and found
a sheltered place, and with the help of the sergeant of the guard moved
them to it.
Morning finally came, and with it better weather, though the sea was
something awful to look upon. What I heard in the night was now
explained. A great wave had gone clean over the vessel, taking every
loose thing with it. It also smashed some of the timbers that form the
guard in front and back of the wheel-house. These had gone clear over
and out on the other side. They looked to be six inches square and solid
at that. The rail was broken where they struck it going over. I thanked
my stars I was inside when that happened. Such waves I had never seen.
As the bow climbed up one, the stern would sink down in another, until a
solid body of black water stood up all around it, and seemed ready to
fall upon and sink the ship, but instead, the bow would go down and the
stern go high up in the air; at the same time a sheet of water would
come swashing over the deck, and running off at the sides. I had often
wished I might witness a storm at sea, and here I was right in one. I
asked Captain Gray if this was the real thing and he said it was "pretty
stiff weather."
Eight o'clock came and I was relieved. After a wash-up and breakfast I
turned in and slept till dinner, and since that have been writing up my
diary. Everything is quiet on board. No more cutting up between decks
has yet happened. I am glad now I had just the part I did in bringing
about this state of affairs, but to tell the honest truth I didn't
suppose it was in me to go through the part I did. There was a whole lot
of good luck, as well as some good management. As I look back over the
last twenty-four hours I see much more to feel thankful for than to feel
proud of.
_March 3, 1864._
_Thursday._ Before the wind for the first time since leaving New York.
The sea is still rough, the vessel pitching and diving all the time.
Everything quiet and well behaved in the lower regions. At night the
captain says we are off Savannah, Ga.
_March 4, 1864._
_Friday._ A fine day and fine weather. Have spent the day on deck,
smoking, reading and thinking about my two homes, the one I am going to,
and the one I have so lately left.
_March 5, 1864._
_Saturday._ Have been in sight of Florida all day. The day has been
plenty warm enough for comfort, the water smooth and I suppose a good
run made.
_March 6, 1864._
KEY WEST, FLORIDA. _Sunday._ We stopped here for coal about 9 A. M. I
have been on shore and looked about. To me it is like being in another
world. Everything I see is different from anything I ever saw before,
unless it be the people, and they talk a language I never heard, even in
the French quarters of New Orleans. Cocoanuts grow here, and pineapples.
The place appears to be the tip end of Florida, as the sea shows in all
directions but one. The buildings are low, squatty, wooden buildings,
but the streets are clean and the people look so. A few can speak
English, but the most of them, black or white, talk more like geese than
anything else. I saw a great many strange sights in the markets and
shops. Nearly every building is a store on the ground floor. Great
turtles, some of them a yard long, were sitting up on end in the markets
and helplessly waving their feet, or fins rather, for that is what their
feet look like. So much misery made me sorry I had seen the place. I
suppose they are kept that way until they are sold, or die. Last night
there was a quarrel among the men, and Colonel Zotroski interfered and
got some talk back that made him mad. He ordered the man to be brought
on deck, and to be bucked and gagged. This was done, and when it was
time to release him he was not to be found, and has not since been
found. It is supposed he rolled overboard, but I don't see how that was
possible. More likely his friends got him and have hid him away.
_March 7, 1864._
_Monday._ We left Key West about ten last night. We are now out of sight
of land, and I suppose are in the Gulf of Mexico. The weather is hot as
blazes. So hot an awning has been put over the quarter-deck, and it is
now a most delightful spot to sit and watch the porpoises play.
_March 8, 1864._
_Tuesday._ Another perfect day. A shower passed over just at night and
sprinkled the boat with warm water. I have been off my feed for several
days, but begin to be myself again and think I will be able to crack a
hard-tack by the time I get into camp. My vacation, or leave of absence,
that seemed so like heaven to look at, is over now, and the stern
realities of a soldier's life are looking me right in the face. Well, I
have a lot to think of that I didn't have then, and a whole lot of
things to talk about, too.
_March 9, 1864._
_Wednesday._ When I woke up this morning, we were outside the bar,
waiting for a pilot. About six o'clock one came and we were soon
steaming up the river on the last stage of our journey. I was again
detailed as officer of the guard, and so it came about that I was the
first and the last to have charge of the prisoners, who were still in
irons. The fellow who threatened me with such dire vengeance was quite
docile, and said no more about killing me.
At quarantine we were halted and a medical man came on board to look us
over. He must have found us all right, for he soon went overboard and we
proceeded up the river. It called up sad memories as we passed the
little graveyard where so many of our boys are lying.
I wondered if such a used-up mess had ever struck the place before or
since. About noon a sharp shower came upon us, and drove everyone under
shelter. It lasted nearly all the afternoon. At 8 P. M. we tied up at
the foot of Josephine Street. I turned the prisoners over to the provost
marshal and I suppose they were soon in jail. I wonder what their
punishment will be. I was soon relieved from duty and went ashore. I
went first to the Murphy House, where I found Dr. Warren's and George
Drury's names on the register. They were out, but I secured the room
next to them and went out to see if I could find any one I knew. I went
to 184 Gravier Street and found the house shut up. Got a shave and then
went to the St. Charles. Coming out I met a fellow passenger looking for
a place to stay and took him with me to the Murphy House. There I found
Drury and from him got the first trace of Colonel Bostwick and family.
He said they were at Lakeport, nine miles away.