ESCAPE FROM THE GULF OF MEXICO.
To get out of the gulf before the exits could be guarded was now the
all-important thing for the Alabama. Had Captain Semmes known that the
Sonoma was off the north shore of Yucatan, that the Wachusett was at
Mugeres Island still keeping watch over the Virginia, and that the
Santiago de Cuba, another steamer of Admiral Wilkes' fleet, was cruising
off the west end of Cuba, he might have had some hesitation in steering
for the Yucatan Channel. But, luckily for the Alabama, Admiral Wilkes and
his captains were as ignorant of Captain Semmes' presence in the gulf as
he was of theirs in the channel. For five days the Alabama battled with
contrary winds, overhauling the Agrippina, which had not yet succeeded in
getting out of the gulf, and on the 16th reached the Yucatan bank, along
which she worked her way until 11:30 o'clock that night, when she slid off
into the channel, and before daylight was beyond the reach of any hostile
glass which might be leveled at her from the Yucatan coast or Mugeres
Island. An observation on the 17th showed the Alabama's position in the
middle of the channel, where she was slowly making her way southward
against wind and current. Nothing was seen of the Santiago de Cuba. The
next day the R. R. Cuyler, of Admiral Farragut's squadron, arrived in the
channel in hot pursuit of the Florida, which had just made her escape from
Mobile Bay. The Cuyler and the Santiago de Cuba proceeded together across
the Channel to Mugeres Island in a vain search for the Florida, but by
this time the Alabama was out of the channel and well on her way to
Jamaica. The Florida had run into Havana.
On the afternoon of January 21st, 1863, the Alabama was off Port Royal,
Jamaica, and anchored in the harbor as it grew dark. If Captain Semmes had
any misgivings as to the reception which would be accorded him in an
English port, his fears were soon set at rest. He writes:
We were boarded by a lieutenant from the English flag-ship,
immediately upon anchoring, and the news spread like wildfire through
all Port Royal that the Alabama had arrived, with the officers and
crew of a Federal gunboat, which she had sunk in battle, on board as
prisoners. Night as it was, we were soon swarmed with visitors, come
off to welcome us to the port, and tender their congratulations. The
next morning I called on Commodore Dunlap, who commanded a squadron
of Admiral Milne's fleet, and was the commanding naval officer
present. This was the first English port I had entered since the
Alabama had been commissioned, and no question whatever as to the
antecedents of my ship was raised. I had, in fact, brought in pretty
substantial credentials that I was a ship of war--130 of the officers
and men of one of the enemy's sunken ships. * * * I forwarded,
through Commodore Dunlap, an official report of my arrival to the
governor of the island, with a request to be permitted to land my
prisoners, and put some slight repairs upon my ship, both of which
requests were promptly granted.
With three British men-of-war in the harbor, the Alabama was safe from any
hostile movement even by the most reckless of Federal commanders, and
Captain Semmes accepted the invitation of an English gentleman to visit
his country home, where he took a much needed rest. His officers had their
hands full in his absence. The ship's bunkers were refilled with coal, a
proceeding which barred the Alabama from again receiving the same courtesy
in any British port for three months. Crowds of curious visitors had to
be entertained, and a constant watch must be kept to prevent liquor from
being smuggled to the men, at least until the arduous labor of coaling
ship was over. When shore leave was finally granted, the majority of the
crew celebrated the occasion as usual by getting uproarously drunk, and
many of them might be seen assisting their late adversaries of the
Hatteras to get into a like condition.
The Alabama's paymaster, Clarence R. Yonge, hitherto a trusted officer,
was accused of drunkenness, and also with traitorous intercourse with the
United States consul. Lieutenant Kell had him arrested, and when the
captain returned he was dismissed from the Confederate service.
Returning to Kingston from his tour of recreation on January 24th, Captain
Semmes found himself the hero of the hour, and felt obliged to comply with
the general request for a speech to the people of the town.
The task of getting the crew on board the Alabama proved to be a
formidable one. Few could be persuaded to abandon their debauch by any
persuasion or threat of punishment. Most of them were arrested by the
police and delivered to the Alabama's officers in all stages of
intoxication. Two of them even attempted to escape after getting on board,
by jumping into a shore boat. Captain Semmes gives the following account
of this occurrence:
A couple of them, not liking the appearance of things on board,
jumped into a dug-out alongside, and seizing the paddles from the
negroes, shoved off in great haste, and put out for the shore. It was
night, and there was a bright moon lighting up the bay. A cutter was
manned as speedily as possible, and sent in pursuit of the fugitives.
Jack had grog and Moll ahead of him, and irons and a court-martial
behind him, and he paddled like a good fellow. He had gotten a good
start before the cutter was well under way, but still the cutter,
with her long sweeping oars, was rather too much for the dug-out,
especially as there were five oars to two paddles. She gained and
gained, coming nearer and nearer, when presently the officer of the
cutter heard one of the sailors in the dug-out say to the other:
"I'll tell you what it is, Bill, there's too much cargo in this here
d--d craft, and I'm going to lighten ship a little."
And at the same instant he saw the two men lay in their paddles,
seize one of the negroes, and pitch him head foremost overboard! They
then seized their paddles again, and away darted the dug-out with
renewed speed.
Port Royal Bay is a large sheet of water, and is, besides, as every
reader of Marryatt's incomparable tales knows, full of ravenous
sharks. It would not do, of course, for the cutter to permit the
negro either to drown or to be eaten by the sharks, and so, as she
came up with him, sputtering and floundering for his life, she was
obliged to "back of all" and take him in. The sailor who grabbed at
him first missed him, and the boat shot ahead of him, which rendered
it necessary for her to turn and pull back a short distance before
she could rescue him. This done, he was flung into the bottom of the
cutter, and the pursuit renewed. By this time the dug-out had gotten
even a better start than she had had at first, and the two fugitive
sailors, encouraged by the prospect of escape, were paddling more
vigorously than ever. Fast flew the dugout, but faster flew the
cutter. Both parties now had their blood up, and a more beautiful and
exciting moonlight race has not often been seen. We had watched it
from the Alabama, until in the gloaming of the night it had passed
out of sight. We had seen the first manoeuvre of the halting, and
pulling back of the cutter, but did not know what to make of it. The
cutter began now to come up again with the chase. She had no musket
on board, or in imitation of the Alabama, she might have "hove the
chase to" with a blank cartridge or a ball. When she had gotten
within a few yards of her a second time, in went the paddles again,
and overboard went the other negro! and away went the dugout! A
similar delay on the part of the cutter ensued as before, and a
similar advantage was gained by the dug-out! But all things come to
an end, and so did this race. The cutter finally captured the
dug-out, and brought back Tom Bowse and Bill Bower to their admiring
shipmates on board the Alabama. This was the only violation of
neutrality I was guilty of in Port Royal--chasing and capturing a
neutral craft in neutral waters.
The recalcitrant sailors protested that they had no intention of deserting
the ship or of drowning the negroes; they only wanted to say goodby to
their feminine acquaintances ashore--and so got off with a reprimand and a
night spent in irons.