The next field of the Alabama’s operations was to be the great highway of commerce off the coast of Brazil, and the mid-Atlantic to the northward. Hardly a day out from Port Royal she fell in with the Golden Rule, and made a bonfire of her. This vessel had on board an outfit of masts and rigging for a United States gun boat, which had been dismantled in a gale. The flames from the bark were distinctly visible on the islands of Jamaica and San Domingo. The next night the torch was applied to the Chastelaine near the Dominican coast. The prisoners from these two vessels were landed at San Domingo.
February 2d there was an alarm of fire on board, caused by the carelessness of one of the petty officers, who had carried a lighted candle into the spirit room, producing an explosion. No great damage was done, however. The Alabama shaped her course northward from San Domingo and crossed the Tropic of Cancer with a good breeze, a rather unusual experience. Early on the morning of February 3d the Alabama gave chase to the schooner Palmetto, but the latter made good use of a favorable breeze, and was not overhauled until one o’clock in the afternoon. The cargo of the prize consisted largely of provisions, of which the Alabama appropriated a goodly supply, and then the torch was applied.
The Alabama was now working her way eastward on the thirtieth parallel of latitude, and had got well into the middle of the Atlantic. The Azores, where she had begun her adventurous career, were only a few degrees to the north and east. On February 21st a light breeze was blowing from the southeast when the lookout reported a sail in sight and then another and then a third and a fourth. The Alabama gave chase to the one first announced, but she ran away before the wind, and, fearing that the others would escape, Captain Semmes gave his attention to two which had every appearance of being Union, and which had been in close company. In order to distract the cruiser’s attention, the two ships fled in opposite directions, but, the wind continuing light, the Alabama soon overhauled the one which sailed eastward; and, putting Master’s Mate Fullam with a prize crew on board, with orders to follow, gave chase to the other, then some fifteen miles distant. The cruiser came up with the second ship about three o’clock p. m. She was the Olive Jane, of New York, homeward bound from Bordeaux with a cargo of French wines and brandies, sardines, olives and other delicacies. Her master was ordered on board the Alabama with his ship’s papers, and soon stood in the presence of Captain Semmes. No certificates of foreign ownership were found, and the verbal assurance of the master that the French owner of certain casks of wine had pointed out his property before the ship sailed, counted for nothing. Fifth Lieutenant Sinclair was ordered with a boat’s crew to proceed on board the prize and secure a quantity of the provisions, and then to set fire to her, but on no account to permit any intoxicants to be brought away. The young lieutenant assumed the task with many misgivings. To take such a susceptible boat’s crew into a hold filled with wines and brandies and forbid them to touch a drop would be to invite a riot. Having reached the deck of the prize Sinclair took his coxswain aside and explained to him the nature of the cargo and the scheme which he had in mind. The boat’s crew were invited to lunch at the cabin table on the viands prepared for New York’s aristocracy, with sundry bottles of brandy, burgundy and claret added thereto, and then appealed to not to get their officer into trouble by becoming intoxicated. The sailors being thus put upon their honor, not a single cask of wine was broken open nor a bottle conveyed to the Alabama. As the work of securing the provisions proceeded, numerous temporary adjournments to the cabin took place, but when the time came for applying the torch, the crew returned to their ship, feeling a little gay perhaps, but amply able to clamber up the cruiser’s side without assistance.
The Olive Jane, having been seen to be well on fire, the Alabama made her way back to the first prize, which, in charge of the prize crew, was doing her best to follow. This vessel was the Golden Eagle. She had sailed in ballast from San Francisco, had taken on a cargo of guano on a small island in the Pacific Ocean, rounded Cape Horn, crossed the equator and the calm belt, and was just catching the breezes which were expected to waft her to her destination at Cork, Ireland, when she fell in with the merciless destroyer, and was condemned to be burned.
The Alabama was now approaching a locality where active operation might be looked for. Says Captain Semmes:
We were now in latitude 30° and longitude 40°, and * * * on the charmed “crossing,” leading to the coast of Brazil. By “crossing” is meant the point at which the ship’s course crosses a given parallel of latitude. We must not, for instance, cross the thirtieth parallel, going southward, until we have reached a certain meridian—say that of forty degrees west. If we do, the north-east trade wind will pinch us, and perhaps prevent us from weathering Cape St. Roque. And when we reach the equator there is another crossing recommended to the mariner, as being most appropriate to his purpose. Thus it is that the roads upon the sea have been blazed out, as it were—the blazes not being exactly cut upon the forest trees, but upon parallels and meridians.
The Alabama was now kept exceedingly busy examining flags and papers of the passers by, to make sure that no Yankee should get past her unawares. February 27th the Washington fell into the Alabama’s net, but she had a cargo of guano belonging to the Peruvian government; and her master having given a ransom bond of $50,000 and taken the Alabama’s prisoners on board, was suffered to proceed on his voyage. March 1st the Bethia Thayer, with more Peruvian guano, was also released on bond. The next victim was the John A. Parks, of Hallowell, Maine, with a cargo of lumber for ports in Argentine or Uruguay. The cargo was certified in proper form to be English property, but some tell-tale letters in the mail bag showed that these certificates had been obtained for the sole purpose of preventing confiscation in case of capture, and ship and cargo were consigned to the flames.
The Alabama now ran southward to the equator. In the vicinity of the line she was seldom out of sight of vessels, and frequently there were a half dozen or more within sight at one time. United States vessels were apt to avoid the “crossings,” however, and had taken to the fields and back alleys, as it were. In some cases they sailed hundreds of miles out of their way in order to keep out of the ordinary track of commerce, where it was suspected that a Confederate cruiser might be lying in wait.
Havoc in the South Atlantic.