CONCLUSION.
Although the deal covering of the chain armor on the Kearsarge was ripped off in many places and some of the links themselves broken, a close inspection showed that no shot which struck them would have been likely to reach a vital part, had they been absent. The only really dangerous shot which reached the Kearsarge was the shell in the stern-post. Captain Semmes rails at his opponent for adopting unusual methods for the safety of his vessel. He says:
Notwithstanding my enemy went out chivalrously armored to encounter a ship whose wooden sides were entirely without protection, I should have beaten him in the first thirty minutes of the engagement, but for the defect of my ammunition, which had been two years on board, and become much deteriorated by cruising in a variety of climates. I had directed my men to fire low, telling them that it was better to fire too low than too high, as the ricochet in the former case—the water being smooth—would remedy the defect of their aim, whereas it was of no importance to cripple the masts and spars of a steamer. By Captain Winslow’s own account, the Kearsarge was struck twenty-eight times; but his ship being armored, of course my shot and shell, except in so far as fragments of the latter may have damaged his spars and rigging, fell harmless into the sea. The Alabama was not mortally wounded, as the reader has seen, until after the Kearsarge had been firing at her an hour and ten minutes. In the meantime, in spite of the armor of the Kearsarge, I had mortally wounded that ship in the first thirty minutes of the engagement. I say “mortally wounded her,” because the wound would have proved mortal, but for the defect of my ammunition above spoken of. I lodged a rifled percussion shell near her stern post—where there were no chains—which failed to explode because of the defect of the cap. If the cap had performed its duty, and exploded the shell, I should have been called upon to save Captain Winslow’s crew from drowning, instead of his being called upon to save mine. On so slight an incident—the defect of a percussion cap—did the battle hinge. The enemy were very proud of this shell. It was the only trophy they ever got of the Alabama! We fought her until she would no longer swim, and then we gave her to the waves. This shell, thus imbedded in the hull of the ship, was carefully cut out along with some of the timber, and sent to the Navy Department in Washington, to be exhibited to admiring Yankees. It should call up the blush of shame to the cheek of every northern man who looks upon it. It should remind him of his ship going into action with concealed armor; it should remind him that his ship fired into a beaten antagonist five times, after her colors had been struck and when she was sinking; and it should remind him of the drowning of helpless men, struggling in the water for their lives! Perhaps this latter spectacle was something for a Yankee to gloat upon. The Alabama had been a scourge and a terror to them for two years. She had seized their property! Yankee property! Curse upon the “pirates,” let them drown!
There is scarcely a doubt that Captain Semmes owed his life to the forbearance of Captain Winslow. Had he been captured during the heat of the war, a military court would doubtless have ordered his execution. The commander of the Kearsarge was several times warned by his officers that Semmes and many of his people were on board the Deerhound and likely to escape, but he said the yacht was “simply coming round,” and took no steps to prevent her departure.[3]
At 3:10 p. m. the Kearsarge again dropped anchor in Cherbourg harbor. The wounded of both vessels were transferred to the French Marine hospital, where the brave seaman, William Gowin, died. The prisoners, with the exception of four officers, were paroled and sent on shore before sunset, a proceeding which Secretary Welles promptly disavowed, as he was resolved to commit no act which could be construed into an acknowledgement that the Alabama was a regular vessel of war. Lieutenant Wilson was, however, released on parole a few weeks later.
The news of the destruction of the Alabama was received with the greatest demonstrations of delight throughout the North and among her friends abroad. Captain Semmes was roundly denounced for making his escape after his vessel had been surrendered. Mr. John Lancaster was likewise assailed for his part in the affair, and stories told by the prisoners to the effect that the Deerhound had been acting as a sort of tender to the Alabama were readily believed in the United States. Other preposterous inventions, one of which assumes to describe a visit of Captain Semmes to the Kearsarge in disguise before the battle, have not even yet ceased to circulate. The ready pen of Captain Semmes and those of his journalistic friends in England were busily impaling Captain Winslow for two offenses: First, he was guilty of armoring his ship and concealing the fact that he had done so; and, secondly, he had fired upon the Alabama after her colors had been struck.
On the first point it may be said that the existence of the chain armor on the Kearsarge was pretty well known in ports where she had touched, and it would be strange indeed if Captain Semmes should have allowed this fact to escape his notice. Moreover, we have the direct statement of Lieutenant Sinclair, of the Alabama, that Semmes knew all about the chain armor before the battle.[4]
As to the second point, it was stated by prisoners from the Alabama that the unauthorized firing by junior officers of the Alabama after her flag had been hauled down had provoked the fire complained of. Lieutenant Sinclair admits the clamorous protests of the gunners against surrender. Taken with the positive testimony of the officers of the Kearsarge that such firing actually took place, these statements would appear to be tolerably conclusive.
Notwithstanding the loss of his ship, Captain Semmes was treated as a hero. He was petted and féted by the London clubs, and the Junior United Service Club presented him with a magnificent sword, artistically engraved with naval and Confederate symbols, to take the place of the sword which he had cast into the sea. Reports flew broadcast that he would very soon be in command of a larger and more powerful “Alabama.” English youths and school boys wrote to him by the score, imploring permission to serve under him in his new ship. But the Confederate government took a different view of the matter. Moreover Captain Semmes’ health had been impaired by his three years of arduous service. Although at this time the Confederates had strong hopes of getting to sea one or more iron clads, Semmes was not named for the command, and received instructions to return to the southern states.
Not caring to take the chances of running the blockade, which had by this time become well nigh impenetrable, Captain Semmes took passage for Havana and thence to the mouth of the Rio Grande, from which point he made his way overland through Texas and Louisiana, and arrived in Richmond in January, 1865. Here, in consideration of his services to the Confederate cause, he was raised to the rank of rear admiral and ordered to take command of the James River fleet. When General Lee evacuated Richmond Admiral Semmes set fire to his fleet, seized a railroad train, and transferred his command to Danville. His forces became a part of the army of General Joseph E. Johnston, and were paroled with the rest when that army surrendered to General Sherman.
December 15th, 1865, Semmes was arrested at his home in Mobile, Alabama, and taken to Washington, where he was confined for several months, while the propriety of trying him by court martial was undergoing consideration. No name connected with the Rebellion was more thoroughly detested along the seaboard than that of Raphael Semmes. He was accused of cruelty to his prisoners, and many believed that he often sunk vessels with all on board. His conduct at Cherbourg was considered to be contrary to the rules of war, first in the alleged firing after the vessel had been surrendered, and secondly in escaping and throwing his sword into the sea. Mr. John A. Bolles, the solicitor general, made careful investigation of the charges on behalf of the United States government, and came to the conclusion that prosecution would not be warranted in time of peace, especially considering the fact that greater offenders were escaping prosecution. Captain Semmes’ cruelty to prisoners seems to have consisted chiefly of confining many of them in irons, an occasional display of his fiery temper, and certain outbursts of profanity. What the prisoners complained of most was the burning of their ships. But all southern ports being closed by the blockade, this is manifestly the only disposition he could make of them. Escaping after surrendering his ship was doubtless contrary to the usages of war, but considering the fact that he was likely to be treated as a pirate, rather than as a prisoner of war, he could hardly be expected to act differently.
The question of the liability of the English government for the escape of the Alabama, the Florida, the Shenandoah, the Sallie, the Boston, and six other vessels which were converted into Confederate war vessels, was referred to a Tribunal of Arbitration, which assembled at Geneva, Switzerland, December 15th, 1871. One member of the Tribunal was appointed by the president of the United States, one by the queen of England, and one each by the king of Italy, the president of Switzerland, and the emperor of Brazil. This court gave judgment against Great Britain for the value of all the ships and cargoes destroyed by the five vessels named, amounting in all with interest to $15,500,000. The losses inflicted by the Alabama, according to claims presented by the losers amounted to $6,547,609.86.
The Kearsarge was repaired at Cherbourg, and continued in the United States service throughout the war. Long after other vessels would have been broken up as too old for service she continued to receive repairs, once amounting almost to rebuilding. January 30th, 1894, she sailed from Port au Prince, Hayti, for Bluefields, Nicaragua. On the evening of Friday, February 2d, she struck on Roncador Reef in the Carribean Sea. The ship had to be lightened, and accordingly the guns were thrown overboard. She held together during the night, however, and the crew remained on board. The next morning a line was run ashore, and all hands were safely landed on the island, from which place one of the boats was sent to Colon for assistance. A steamer was dispatched to take off the shipwrecked mariners. Every person having been rescued, officers and crew watched the wave-lashed hulk slowly disappear from view, and the wreck of the old Kearsarge was left to the mercy of the sea.
Footnotes:
[1] “Aid thyself and God will aid thee.”
[2] Report of Consul Lawless to the British foreign office.
[3] In reviewing an autobiography of Sir George F. Bowen, at one time governor of New Zealand, the London Spectator says (vol. 65, p. 20): “The visit of the United States ship Kearsarge at this time brought to light a bit of history which Sir George Bowen has done well to preserve. The Captain informed his host that after the Alabama was sunk, its commander, Semmes, was seen floating in the sea with the help of a life-belt. He could easily have been captured, but it was thought better to let him be saved by a passing British vessel, since, if taken to America, he would probably have been hanged, and the officers of the Kearsarge wished to save a gallant enemy from such a fate.”
[4] Two years on the Alabama, p. 263.
Transcriber’s Notes:
Punctuation has been corrected without note.
Other than the corrections noted by hover information, inconsistencies in spelling and hyphenation have been retained from the original.
The original text does not contain a Table of Contents. The Table of Contents included near the beginnning of this file was created by the transcriber as an aid for the reader.