The next capture was that of the fine packet ship Tonawanda, bound from Philadelphia to Liverpool with a large cargo of grain and about seventy-five passengers, nearly half of whom were women and children. Captain Semmes was in a dilemma. The Alabama was already crowded with prisoners. But he was reluctant to release so valuable a vessel. A prize crew was put on board, in the hope that the passengers and crew might be transferred to some ship having a neutral cargo, or one of less value than the Tonawanda. Her captain was sent aboard the Alabama as a precautionary measure, and the prisoners of the Wave Crest and Dunkirk transferred to the prize.
The next victim was the fine large ship Manchester. A bond for $80,000 was now exacted from the captain of the Tonawanda, and having added the crew of the Manchester to the crowds on his ship, he was suffered to proceed on his way, much to the delight of his passengers. The Manchester was given to the flames. October 15th the Lamplighter, with tobacco for Gibraltar, was captured and burned. The weather was rough and boarding somewhat dangerous, but the capture and burning were effected without accident.
The newspapers found on the prizes kept Captain Semmes informed in regard to the events of the war and often gave the whereabouts of the Northern cruisers which he wished to avoid. The escape of the “290” was known in New York, but that she would develop in so short a time into the pest of the Atlantic was not thought of. The tactics of Captain Semmes were always the same. A false flag was invariably used until the victim got within striking distance, and then hauled down, to be replaced by the stars and bars. For this purpose flags of various nations were used—French, Spanish, Portuguese and the like, and often that of the United States; but the one most frequently employed was that of Great Britain.
The crew of the Alabama taken as a whole were a turbulent lot. Boarding officers had little or no control over their boats’ crews. Knowing that the guns of the Alabama would answer for their safety, they would rush below like a gang of pirates, staving open chests and boxes and carrying off anything that took their fancy. The clothing and personal effects of sailors were often heartlessly destroyed After being transferred to the Alabama, however, the prisoners were comparatively free from this sort of persecution; and with the exception of being placed in irons, their treatment seems to have been as good as circumstances permitted. As all private looting was contrary to the captain’s orders, the sailors belonging to the boarding crews did not often venture to carry anything on board their own ship which could not readily be concealed. Whisky they frequently did find, and occasionally one of them had to be hoisted over the Alabama’s side, very much the worse for his explorations among the liquid refreshments.
Although directly in the path of American commerce and only a few hundred miles from New York, the United States flag now began to be a rarity. From the 16th to the 20th of October nine vessels were chased and boarded and their papers examined, but all of them were neutrals. The reason is not far to seek. The captain of the Emily Farnum had promised Captain Semmes as one of the conditions of his release, that he would continue his voyage to Liverpool; but the moment he was out of sight, he put his ship about and ran into Boston and gave the alarm. The American shipping interests throughout the seaboard were thrown into an uproar of terror. The experience of Captain Tilton in trying to escape in the Virginia had led him to believe that the Alabama was considerably swifter than she really was, and extravagant estimates of her speed were accepted as true.
Secretary Welles hastily dispatched all the available warships in search of the Alabama, but he put too much trust in the report of her probable future movements, which had been brought in innocently enough by Captain Hagar, and much valuable time was lost beating up and down the banks of Newfoundland and the coast of Nova Scotia, while the Alabama had shifted her position to a point much nearer New York, and thence southward. The sober second thought of the navy department, that with the advent of cold weather the Alabama would seek a field of operations farther south—probably in the West Indies—proved to be correct. But the West Indies was a very large haystack and the Alabama, comparatively, a very small needle.
The Northern newspapers found on the prizes were carefully scanned by the captain and his secretary for valuable information, after which they were passed on to the other officers in the ward room and steerage and thence into the hands of the crew. These teemed with denunciation of the “pirates,” and the members of the crew were described as consisting of “the scum of England,” an expression which rankled in the sailor’s heart and for which he took ample vengeance when his opportunity came.
The name of Captain Semmes became a synonym of heartless cruelty. Captain Tilton said he treated his prisoners and crew like dogs, and Captain Hagar said that it was his custom to burn his prizes at night, so that he might gather round him fresh victims among those who sailed toward the burning ships in order to save human life. The British premier, Lord Palmerston, and his minister of foreign affairs, Lord John Russell, were denounced for letting loose such a fire-brand.
The officers and crew were almost universally referred to as pirates. Indeed, the newspapers had some official warrant for this appellation. In his proclamation calling for 75,000 volunteers after the capture of Fort Sumter, President Lincoln had declared “that if any person, under the pretended authority of said states or under any other pretence shall molest a vessel of the United States, or the persons or cargo on board of her, such persons will be held amenable to the laws of the United States for the prevention and punishment of piracy.”