A Brief Stay at Home.--Report to the War Department.--Instructions
to go abroad.--The Blockade-runner "Kate."--Voyage to
Nassau.--Yellow Fever.--The Undertaker.--Our Skipper "Captain
Dick."--The Major sick.--A Story for the Marines.--Arrival at
Cardenas.--The Coolies.--Arrival at Havana.--The American Consul
and I.--The Pirate Marti.--The Spanish Steamer.--Pretty
Harbors.--Captain Fry.
After reporting at the Navy Department, I proceeded to my home. The day
after my arrival there I was summoned by telegram to Richmond, to report
in person to the Secretary of War. I had been detailed for special duty,
and from this date commenced my connection with blockade running. Upon
reaching the office, I found written instructions from the Secretary of
War to proceed to England and purchase a steamer suitable for running
the blockade, to load her with arms, munitions of war, and other
supplies, and to bring her into a Confederate port with all dispatch.
Ample funds in sterling exchange were provided and a large amount of
Confederate bonds was entrusted to me for deposit with an agent of the
Government in England. Accompanied by my small staff of assistants, and
by Major Ben. Ficklin, who went abroad under special instructions from
the War and Treasury Departments, I left Richmond about the 12th of
August, and after some difficulty and delay, secured passage for the
whole party on board the little steamer Kate, about to sail from
Wilmington for Nassau. Under her skilful commander, Lockwood, this
little side-wheel steamer had already acquired fame as a successful
blockade-runner, and was destined to continue successful to the end of
her career. But her appearance was by no means prepossessing, and she
was very slow, her maximum speed being about nine knots. I forget by
what accident she was at last disabled; perhaps by sheer old age and
infirmity; but her ribs were to be seen for many a day before the war
ended, bleaching in the sun on one of the mud flats in Cape Fear River.
The night of our crossing the bar was dark and stormy and we felt under
great obligations to the blockading fleet outside, for showing lights at
their peaks--thus enabling us to avoid them with much ease. At this
period, indeed, blockade running had not assumed such enormous
proportions as it afterwards attained, when hundreds of thousands of
dollars were invested in a single venture and the profits were so
immense that the game was well worth the candle. Subsequent to the
period of which I now write, Wilmington became the chief place of import
and export. Large quantities of cotton were stored there, both on
Government and private account; and steam cotton presses were erected,
but at this period Charleston possessed greater facilities and was
perhaps quite as accessible.
Our voyage to Nassau was safely accomplished; the vigilant look-out at
the mast-head giving prompt notice of a speck on the horizon no larger
than a gull's wing, when the course would be so changed as to lose sight
of it. Two cases of yellow fever, both ending fatally, occurred among
the passengers during the brief voyage, and we were quarantined on our
arrival at Nassau. One of the sick men had been brought on deck and
placed on a couch under the deck awning. As he had taken no nourishment
for two or three days, our good captain directed that a bowl of soup
should be prepared for him. The sick man sat up when the steaming bowl
was presented to him; seized it with both hands, drained it to the
bottom, and fell back dead. We had not been at anchor more than an hour
when an outward-bound passing schooner hailed us and announced to our
captain the death of his wife and child, whom he had left in good health
only a few days before.
As the epidemic on board the Kate had been contracted at Nassau, and
still prevailed on shore, we were at a loss to understand why we should
be refused "pratique"; but it gave our little party no concern, as the
town did not present an attractive or inviting appearance from the
quarantine ground; nor were our unfavorable impressions removed upon a
nearer acquaintance with it two or three months afterwards. But it was
evident, that in spite of the epidemic, there was a vast deal of
activity ashore and afloat. Cotton, cotton, everywhere!
Blockade-runners discharging it into lighters, tier upon tier of it,
piled high upon the wharves, and merchant vessels, chiefly under the
British flag, loading with it. Here and there in the crowded harbor
might be seen a long, low, rakish-looking lead-colored steamer with
short masts, and a convex forecastle deck extending nearly as far aft as
the waist, and placed there to enable the steamer to be forced
_through_ and not _over_ a heavy head sea. These were the genuine
blockade-runners, built for speed; and some of them survived all the
desperate hazards of the war.
The mulatto undertaker, who came on board to take the measure for
coffins for the two passengers who had died, did not leave us in a very
cheerful state of mind, although _he_ was in fine spirits, in the
anticipation of a brisk demand for his stock in trade.
Presenting each one of us with his card, he politely expressed the hope
that we would give him our custom, if we needed anything in his line.
Fortunately we had no occasion for his services. Just before leaving the
ship he was invited to take a glass of brandy and water. Holding the
glass in his hands which were yet stained with the coffin paint, he
drank to our death, a toast to which Dyer, my Wilmington pilot,
responded, "You shouldn't bury me, you d----d rascal, if I _did_ die."
With the assistance of the Confederate agent on shore, we succeeded in
promptly chartering a schooner for Cardenas and in provisioning her for
the voyage; and in a day or two, were making our way across the Bahama
Banks for Cuba. The agent had supplied us liberally with flesh, fowls,
and ice; and the Banks gave us an abundance of fish, as the light winds
fanned us slowly along, sometimes freshening into a moderate breeze, and
occasionally dying away to a calm. The "_chef d'oeuvre_" of our
mulatto skipper who was also cook, was conch soup, and he was not only
an adept at cooking but also at catching the conch. In those almost
transparent waters, the smallest object can be distinctly seen at the
depth of three or four fathoms. When soup was to be prepared Captain
Dick would take his station at the bow "in puris naturalibus," watching
intently for his prize. Overboard he would go like an arrow, and rising
again to the surface, would pitch the conch (and sometimes one in each
hand) on board. His son Napoleon Bonaparte, (who was first mate, steward
and half the starboard watch) would throw him a rope, and the old fellow
would climb on board as the little craft sailed by, without an
alteration in her course.
Major Ben. Ficklin was attacked with yellow fever just after we left
Nassau; but as we had no medicines on board he recovered. The medical
fraternity might perhaps take a hint from the treatment of his case.
Small lumps of ice were kept in a saucer beside him as he lay on a
mattress under a deck awning, and by the constant use of it he allayed
the raging thirst attending high fever. The "vis medicatrix naturæ"
accomplished the rest.
Having no books on board, we beguiled the time occasionally by telling
stories as we lay under the shelter of the deck awning. One of my
contributions was the following: Many officers of the navy will remember
it, and there are some who, like myself, will recollect the solemn
earnestness with which the hero of it would narrate the facts, for he
firmly believed it to the day of his death. At the time of its
occurrence he was enjoying a day's shooting at his home in Vermont.
Becoming tired toward midday he took a seat on an old log in the woods.
A few minutes afterwards, he saw an old bareheaded man, meanly clad,
approaching, who seated himself in silence at the other end of the log.
The head of the stranger was bound with a white cloth and his eyes were
fixed with a glassy stare upon Major B., who felt his blood run cold at
the singular apparition. At last the Major mustered up courage to ask
the stranger what he wanted. The spectre replied "I am a dead man, and
was buried in the graveyard yonder" (pointing as he spoke to a
dilapidated enclosure a few yards distant). "The dogs," he continued,
"have found their way into my shallow grave, and are gnawing my flesh. I
can not rest until I am laid deeper in the ground." The Major used to
assert that his tongue clove to the roof of his mouth; but he managed to
promise the dead man that his wishes should be complied with, when the
apparition dissolved into the air. The Major went straight to some of
the neighbors, and when he accompanied them to the grave, it was found
in the condition described by its occupant. N. B. The Major was in the
habit of carrying a "pocket pistol," which may have been overcharged
upon this occasion; he _also_ belonged to the _marines_.
We arrived at Cardenas after a week's voyage, and stopped there a day to
recruit. During our stay we witnessed a curious scene. While we were
enjoying our cigars in the cool of the evening upon the "azotea" of our
hotel, we saw a file of soldiers march up to a house directly opposite,
and after repeated efforts to enter, they finally burst open the door;
reappearing in a few moments with seven or eight "coolies," who were
apparently dead drunk, but in reality were stupefied with opium; having
met, by appointment, to "shuffle off this mortal coil" after this
characteristic fashion. One or two of them were quite beyond
resuscitation, and the others were only prevented from sinking into
fatal insensibility by severe flogging with bamboo canes, and being
forced to keep upon their feet. We were informed that suicide is very
common among them in Cuba; it being their last resort against misery and
oppression. Colonel Totten, the able civil engineer who constructed the
railroad across the Isthmus of Panama, once gave a party of us a graphic
account of the mortality among a number of them, who had been employed
by him in that pestilential climate. Having no access to opium, and
being deprived of knives, they resorted to the most ingenious modes of
self destruction. Sometimes they would wade out in the bay at low water,
with a pole, which they would stick firmly into the mud, and securely
tying themselves to it, would wait for the rising tide to drown them.
Others would point a stake by charring it in the fire and impale
themselves upon it.
The evils of this system of labor cannot be truthfully denied. Ignorant
even of the nature of the contract which binds them to servitude, the
coolies are driven in crowds to the ship which is to transport them to
another hemisphere; and they endure all the horrors of the "middle
passage" during their long voyage.
When they arrive at their port of destination in the West Indies they
are apprenticed for a term of years to the planters who need their
services, and many of them succumb to the tropical climate and the
severe labor in the cane field. Many more seek a ready means of escape
in death. The philanthropy of the civilized governments, which has been
concentrated for many years upon efforts to liberate the "black man and
brother," has never been exerted to rescue "John China-man" from a
crueler thraldom and a harder lot.
Taking the train for Havana, we passed through a very beautiful country,
luxuriant with tropical verdure; the most conspicuous natural feature in
the landscape being the graceful palm tree in its many varieties. We
passed, too, many sugar plantations, the growing cane not at all unlike
our own cornfields at home, while the long lines of negroes, at work
with their hoes, in the crop, made the fields appear even more familiar
and home-like. Our friends, the "darkies," evidently did not contemplate
suicide. Sleek and well-fed, they were chattering like so many flocks
of blackbirds.
Arriving at Havana we took up our quarters at Mrs. B.'s hotel, and as my
first object was to find Colonel Helm, the agent of the Confederate
Government, I started for that purpose immediately after our arrival.
The Colonel had held the position of United States Consul before the
war; and the residence then occupied by him was now tenanted by his
successor. Being directed to this house by mistake, I was ushered in by
the servant, and found myself face to face with Captain S., the American
Consul. We were not totally unacquainted, having met occasionally in
bygone days, when both of us were in the United States Navy. The
surprise was mutual, and the awkward silence was interrupted by my
saying "Apparently I am in the wrong pew." "Evidently," he replied, and
we parted without another word.
With the assistance of Colonel Helm our business in Havana was speedily
transacted; and passage was engaged for the whole party on board a
Spanish steamer bound for St. Thomas, thence to take passage by the
British mail steamer for Southampton.
The few days spent in Havana were pleasantly passed in sight-seeing;
the afternoons being devoted to a ride upon the "paseo," and the
evenings closed by a visit to the noted "Dominica" the principal café of
the city. There are many beautiful rides and drives in the environs, and
the summer heats are tempered by the cool refreshing sea breeze which
blows daily. That scourge of the tropics, yellow fever, is chiefly
confined to the cities of Cuba, the country being salubrious; and it
appears strange that this beautiful island has never been a favorite
place of resort, during the winter, for invalids from the Northern
States in search of an equable climate. It must be confessed that Havana
itself possesses few attractions for the stranger and that its sanitary
arrangements are execrable. In addition to the imperfect municipal
regulations in this respect, all the sewage of the city empties itself
into the harbor, in which there is no current to sweep the decomposing
matter into the Gulf Stream outside. The water in the harbor is
sometimes so phosphorescent at night that showers of liquid fire appear
to drop from a boat's oars passing through it; and the boat leaves a
long lane of light in her wake.
No stranger visiting Havana fails to see the spot in the cathedral held
sacred as the tomb of Columbus. His remains were transferred here with
great pomp, after resting many years in the city of San Domingo, whither
they had been carried from Spain.
The fish market and the "Tacon" theatre too, are well worth a visit.
Both of them once belonged to the same individual, the noted pirate
"Marti," whom I have seen many a time, in the streets of Havana, after
his reformation. He was then a venerable looking old gentleman
"As mild a mannered man
As ever scuttled ship or cut a throat."
For a long time he had been chief of all the piratical bands that then
infested the shores of Cuba. They plied their fearful trade with
comparative impunity; the numerous lagoons on the coast, only accessible
through tortuous and shallow channels, and hidden by mangrove bushes,
affording safe shelter; while they could easily intercept many vessels
passing through the narrow strait separating Cuba from Florida. They
gave no quarter to man, woman, or child, and scuttled their prizes after
taking from them what was most valuable. A ready sale was found for
their plunder in Havana through accomplices there; and their
depredations upon commerce finally became so extensive that the United
States Government fitted out an expedition against them. General Tacon,
at that time Governor-General of Cuba, also prepared an expedition to
operate against them. This fleet was on the eve of sailing. The night
was dark and rainy. A stranger, wrapped in a cloak for disguise, watched
the sentry on duty before the door of the palace from a hiding place
near by; and as the sentry turned his back for a moment or two from the
door, the stranger slipped by him, undiscovered, and proceeded rapidly
to the apartments of the Captain-General. His excellency was writing at
a table; and the stranger had opened the door and entered the room
without being discovered. When the Governor-General raised his eyes and
saw the cloaked figure standing silently before him, he stretched his
hand toward a bell near him, but the stranger interposed. "Stop, your
Excellency," he said, "I am here upon a desperate enterprise. I have
come to deliver into your hands every pirate on the Cuban coast upon one
condition; a pardon for myself." "You shall have it," replied his
excellency, "but who are you?" "I am Marti, and I rely upon the promise
you have given to me." The Governor-General repeated his assurances of
immunity upon the prescribed conditions. Marti had laid his plans well,
having appointed a place of rendezvous for the different bands before
venturing upon his perilous expedition. He acted as a guide to the force
sent in pursuit, and every pirate was captured and afterwards
"garroted." A large price had been set upon the head of Marti. This is
the story as told by his contemporaries. For these distinguished
services to the State the vile old reprobate was offered the promised
reward. In lieu of it he asked for the monopoly of the sale of fish in
Havana, which was granted to him; and the structure erected by him for a
fish market is perhaps the finest of the sort in the world. He
afterwards built the noble "Tacon" theatre, named after his
benefactor,--and died in the odor of sanctity.
We were not sorry when the day of our departure came. There was a motley
crowd of passengers on board the little steamer. "Paisanos" wearing
broad brimmed sombreroes and in picturesque costume; "Padres" in their
long gowns and shovel hats; pretty "senoritas" with hair plaited down
their backs, and officers on their way to join the army in the field in
San Domingo. But every one was amiable and disposed to be companionable.
Most of them were aware of the fact that there was a state of war
between the North and the South; and their sympathies were altogether
with our side; for no earthly reason, probably, except that they
entertained the blind hatred against the "Norte Americanos" so prevalent
among the Latin race on this continent, and supposed the people of the
South to be of different origin.[8]
We were half poisoned, and wholly saturated with garlic, while on board
the little steamer; and men, women and children smoked incessantly. Our
clever artist, Johnny T., drew a capital sketch of a portly old lady
whose habit it was, after every meal, to take from her side pocket an
oil skin bundle of huge cigars--evidently "plantations," and made to
order. Selecting one, she would strike a light with her "matchero" and
begin to puff away like a furnace. When fairly alight, she would
dispose of the smoke in some mysterious inner receptacle, whence it
would issue in a minute or more, from nose, eyes, ears, and even through
the pores of her mahogany-colored skin, as it appeared to us.
We touched at many little ports, all of them very pretty and
picturesque; little quiet basins of blue water, with the houses
scattered about along the hill sides, and half hidden by foliage; the
white surf thundering outside, and the surface, inside, glassy smooth.
Our last port in Cuba was Santiago, since made memorable as the scene of
the murder of the gallant and unfortunate Fry, and his companions in
misfortune. Should these lines ever meet the eye of any of his old
friends and comrades in the United States Navy, they will bear witness,
that a brave and noble gentleman was there cruelly done to death. He had
lost everything by our war, and dire poverty, with the responsibility of
a family to support, forced him to the desperate venture of running the
blockade in Cuba. _Morally_ he was not more criminal than the British
naval officers, who engaged in the same hazardous pursuit during our
struggle.
FOOTNOTE:
[8] The educated Cubans must be exonerated from this charge. Many of
this class have been at the schools and colleges in the United States;
and admire our republican institutions. They are even now, and have been
for years, maintaining a desperate struggle for the establishment of
these institutions among themselves.