LIFE AT NASSAU
Society at Nassau—Dinners and dancing—The only frock-coat in
Nassau—Mrs. Bayley's receptions—Arthur Doering—Old friends
who have gone—Hobart Pasha—Capture of the _Don_—Hugh
Burgoyne—Captain Hewett—Murray Aynsley—A private Joint Stock
Company—Increased responsibilities—A day's misfortunes—Career
of the _Tristram Shandy_—Yellow Jack—Death-rate at
Wilmington—Saved from quarantine by a horse—A pet game-cock.
As the moon was now approaching full, we had ample time to repair
damages and refit ship before making another start, and we all enjoyed
our brief holiday and freedom from care. Although Nassau was a small
place its gaieties were many and varied. Money flowed like water, men
lived for the day and never thought of the morrow, and in that small
place was accumulated a mixture of mankind seldom seen before.
Confederate military and naval officers; diplomatists using the
blockade-runners as a means of ingress and egress from their beleaguered
country; newspaper correspondents and advertisers of all kinds,—some
rascals no doubt; the very cream of the English navy, composed of
officers on half-pay who had come out lured by the prospects of making
some money and gaining an experience in their profession which a war
such as this could give them; and last but not least our own immediate
circle, which was graced by the presence of two ladies, Mrs.
Murray-Aynsley and Mrs. Hobart, wives of officers who presided at our
revels and tended to keep the younger and more reckless of our set in
order.
What jovial days they were, and how they were appreciated by the
officials and natives, to whom it was a pleasure to extend our
hospitality. Every night our dinner table was filled to its utmost
capacity, and once a week at least we had a dance, when the office
furniture was unceremoniously bundled out into the garden under the care
of a fatigue party of soldiers, and the band of the regiment discoursed
entrancing music to those whose feet never seemed to tire. I suppose
that I was then rather a dandy and the only possessor of a frock-coat
among us, and as I lived just below Government House, this coat, with a
flower in the button-hole, was frequently requisitioned at Mrs. Bayley's
(the Governor's wife) receptions. I have known it do duty half a dozen
times on half a dozen backs within a couple of hours: in the case of
poor Vizitelly, however, it was a little wanting in front.
Not only my coat became public property, but those gay friends parted my
other raiment between them, and I well remember, after I had a new
supply of linen, etc. from home, expostulating with Frankston, my black
major-domo, because I had nothing to wear, and receiving his answer in
reply—"Well, sar, what can do? Mr. Hurst and Mr. Doering take all
master's shirts." To back up his assertion, he showed me Arthur
Doering's weekly wash just arrived, consisting of one sock and one white
tie. Poor Arthur, he is gone,—a light-hearted, cheery, devil-may-care
youngster who spent every penny he made. He was one of my pursers, but
had persistently bad luck; he was captured twice, wrecked once, and
chased back once. When on shore I made him head of the entertaining
department, for which he was well fitted, as no one could mix a better
cocktail or sing a more cheery song than he could.
This was the cheery side of our Nassau life, but it had its reverse one,
consisting of hard work, constant anxieties and worries.
As my memory takes me back to those jovial but hard-working days of
"camaraderie" it is melancholy to think how many of those friends have
gone before: Mrs. Murray-Aynsley, Mrs. Hobart and her husband Hobart
Pasha; Hugh Burgoyne, one of the navy's brightest ornaments, who was
drowned while commanding the ill-fated _Captain_; Hewett, who lately
gave up command of the Channel Fleet only to die; old Steele, the king
of blockade-running captains; Maurice Portman, an ex-diplomatist; Frank
Vizitelly, whose bones lie alongside those of Hicks Pasha's in the
Soudan; Lewis Grant Watson, my brother agent; Arthur Doering, one of my
loyal lieutenants, and a host of old Confederate friends, are all gone,
and I could count on my fingers those remaining of a circle of chums who
did not know what care or fear was, and who would have stood by each
other through thick and thin in any emergency. In fact my old friends
Admiral Murray-Aynsley and Frank Hurst are almost the only two living of
that companionship.
Of Hobart Pasha and of the important part he played in the Turko-Russian
war and Cretan rebellion—in which he acknowledged that his
blockade-running experiences stood him in such good stead—most, if not
all, my readers will have read or heard. He commanded a smart little
twin screw-steamer called the _Don_, in fact one of the first twin
propeller steamers ever built. And very proud he was of his craft, in
which he made several successful runs under the assumed name of Captain
Roberts. On her first trip after "Captain Roberts" gave up command in
order to go home, the _Don_ was captured after a long chase, and his
late chief officer, who was then in charge, was assumed by his captors
to be Roberts. He maintained silence concerning the point, and the
Northern newspapers upon the arrival of the prize at Philadelphia were
full of the subject of the "Capture of the _Don_ and the notorious
English naval officer, Captain Roberts." Much chagrined were they to
find they had got the wrong man, and that the English naval officer was
still at large.
Poor Burgoyne—whose tragic and early end, owing to the capsizing of the
_Captain_, everybody deplored—as a blockade-runner was not very
successful. If I remember correctly he made only two or three trips. Had
he lived he would have had a brilliant career before him in the navy;
bravest of the brave, as is evidenced by the V.C. he wore, gentle as a
woman, unselfish to a fault, he might have saved his life if he had
thought more of himself and less of his men on that terrible occasion
off Finisterre, when his last words were, "Look out for yourselves, men;
never mind me."
Then there was Hewett, another wearer of the "cross for valour," who has
only recently joined the majority, after a brilliant career as Admiral
commanding in the East Indies, Red Sea, and Channel Fleet; who
successfully interviewed King John in Abyssinia, and was not content to
pace the deck of his flagship at Suakim, but insisted upon fighting in
the square at El Teb, and whose hospitality and geniality later on as
Commander-in-Chief of the Channel Fleet was proverbial.
Murray-Aynsley, I rejoice to say, is still alive. Who that knows "old
Murray" does not love him; gentle as a child, brave as a lion, a man
without guile, he was perhaps the most successful of all the naval
blockade-runners. In the _Venus_ he had many hair-breadth escapes,
notably on one occasion when he ran the gauntlet of the Northern Fleet
in daylight into Wilmington. The _Venus_, hotly pursued by several
blockaders and pounded at by others, straight through whom she steamed,
and old Murray on the bridge, with his coat sleeves hitched up almost to
his arm-pits—a trick he had when greatly excited—otherwise as cool as
possible, was, as Lamb afterwards told me, a sight not to be forgotten.
But shore life in Nassau was by no means "all beer and skittles." As I
have stated, the cheery side had its reverse. So far as I was concerned,
I had always a busy time attending to the mercantile part of the
business, and latterly a large staff of clerks, captains, and officers
to supervise, to manage whom required all the tact and firmness of which
as a comparative youngster I was capable. But on the whole they were a
loyal set of men; some imbeciles were indeed sent out as captains, who
were no more fit to command a blockade-runner than I was a regiment, and
these men had to be superseded and replaced by others: which caused much
friction, but the interests involved were so large that I could not
afford to be sentimental.
The business had now grown to very large proportions; owing to the
success achieved by the first _Banshee_ her shareholders were encouraged
to make further investments, and their friends were only too delighted
to follow suit. The consequence was that my principals at home
established a private Joint Stock Company with a large capital, by means
of which steamer after steamer was built and sent out for me to
manipulate.
Individual ventures gradually became the exception, and on account of
the amount of capital required it was found more profitable to form
large companies. The risk of loss was lessened by the possession of a
greater number of vessels, as even if half the fleet owned by a company
were captured the profits earned by the other half would more than
counterbalance the loss entailed by failure. The mercantile house which
transacted the company's business invariably held a large quantity of
the stock, and the commission earned was so great that, even if the
individual stockholders lost, the mercantile house came out a gainer.
This change increased immensely my responsibilities and anxieties; vast
sums had to be dealt with, and at times a decision had to be made in an
instant upon a subject which involved grave consequences but brooked
little delay. However, youth and a sanguine temperament seemed to carry
me along, and in those days I managed to brush aside difficulties and
annoyances which in these later times would appear to me insufferable.
One morning I was wakened up at daylight by Doering and the captain of a
boat called the _Tristram Shandy_, which I had despatched only five days
before on her maiden trip, standing at the foot of my bed. They
explained to me that they had arrived within 100 miles of Wilmington
when they had fallen in with a fast cruiser, who had chased them; to
avoid capture they had been obliged to throw all their cargo overboard.
This in itself meant a serious loss, but it was not the sum-total of the
day's misfortunes, for some hours later I heard of the capture of
another of our boats, and the total destruction of a third by being run
ashore and destroyed by the blockaders—a heavy bill of misfortune for
one day!
The _Tristram Shandy_ had a very short and unfortunate career; after
being reloaded subsequent to her compulsory return, she started on her
second attempt and steamed safely in. But in coming out her funnels,
owing to the peculiar construction of her boilers, flamed very much, and
it appears that a gunboat followed her by this flame all night, and when
morning broke was seen to be about three miles astern. The captain at
once ordered extra steam to be put on, but owing to this having been
done too suddenly, one of her valve spindles was wrenched off, and she
lay helpless at the mercy of the chaser, who speedily came up and took
possession.
She had on board a very valuable cargo of cotton, and in addition
$50,000 in specie belonging to the Confederate Government; this,
according to agreement with the Government, Doering proceeded to throw
overboard, but some of the crew, determined to have a finger in the
spoil, rushed aft and broke open the kegs. In the mêlée a quantity of
gold pieces were strewn among the cotton bales on deck, and when the
Northerners came on board they were very irate to think they had lost a
considerable portion of their prize money. The steamer was taken into
Philadelphia and condemned, and the crew were kept prisoners in New York
for several months.
In addition to the worries and anxieties I have detailed we had to fight
that demon, yellow Jack, which raged with fearful mortality both at
Nassau and Wilmington. In Nassau I have counted seventeen funerals pass
my house before breakfast, and in one day I have attended interments of
three intimate friends. In Wilmington it was worse; in one season alone,
out of a total population of 6000, 2500 died. No wonder the authorities
were scared and imposed heavy penalties on us in the shape of
quarantine. On two occasions I have been in quarantine for fifty days at
a time—think of that, _you_ modern luxurious travellers, who growl if
_you_ are detained three days.
On the first occasion out of a crew of thirty-two twenty-eight were laid
low, and we had seven deaths; only the captain, chief engineer, steward,
and myself were free from fever. On the second we had no sickness, and
only suffered from the ennui consequent upon such close confinement and
short rations, as latterly we had nothing but salt pork and sardines to
eat. We were only saved from a third dose of quarantine almost by a
miracle.
It happened that the Southern Agent in Egypt had sent a very valuable
Arab horse to Nassau, as a present for Jefferson Davis. Heiliger, the
Confederate Agent there, asked me if I would take it in through the
blockade. I at once consented, and it was shipped on board the
_Banshee_. We got through all right, but when the health officer came on
board and ordered us to quarantine, I said: "If we have to go there, the
horse will certainly have to be destroyed, as we have no food for it."
Thereupon he telegraphed to Richmond, and the reply came back that the
_Banshee_ was to proceed to the town, land the horse, and return to
quarantine. When we were alongside the wharf a large number of our crew
jumped on shore and disappeared. I said to the General, who was a friend
of mine, "It is no use our going back to quarantine after this, you
either have the infection or not," and I induced him to telegraph again
to Richmond. The answer came back, "_Banshee_ must discharge and load as
quickly as possible, and proceed to sea; lend all assistance."
The General acted on these instructions, and upon the third day we were
gaily proceeding down the river again with an outward cargo on board,
passing quite a fleet of steamers at the quarantine ground, whose crews
were gnashing their teeth. We got safely out and returned, after making
another trip, to find the same boats in quarantine, and, as it was
raised some three days after our arrival, we steamed up the river in
company, much to the disgust of their crews.
Good old horse, he saved me from a dreary confinement in quarantine, and
made the owners of the _Banshee_ some £20,000 to £30,000 extra, but he
was nearly the cause of our all being put in a Northern prison and
losing our steamer. On a very still night, as we were running in and
creeping noiselessly through the hostile fleet, he commenced neighing
(smelling the land, I expect). In an instant two or three jackets were
thrown over his head; but it was too late; he had been heard on board a
cruiser very close to which we were passing, and she and two or three of
her consorts immediately opened fire upon us. We had the heels of them,
however, and our friend Colonel Lamb at Fort Fisher was soon protecting
us, playing over our heads with shell.
On a subsequent occasion disaster might have overtaken the _Banshee_
under somewhat similar circumstances had a cruiser happened to be near.
A game-cock which we kept on board as a pet suddenly began to crow. But
this time the disaster was to the game-cock and not to the _Banshee_,
for, pet as he was, his neck was promptly twisted. Such experiences as
these showed how easy it was to increase the risks of blockade-running;
absence of all avoidable noise at night was as essential as the
extinction of all lights on board ship.