I must say here that the “Somerset” was a reconstructed ferryboat that previously had plied between New York and Brooklyn. This ferryboat, returned to her original condition, is still carrying passengers to and fro between the same cities, at Fulton Ferry, and whenever I chance to cross on her I am overwhelmed with recollections, most of them very pleasant.
Lunch was served as soon as we arrived, and words cannot express our joy at seeing whitebread and butter, apples and cake, beside other luxuries, spread out before us. It seemed almost like sacrilege to eat such precious delicacies. The captain enjoyed our delight, and mother shed tears at seeing her children eat all they wanted. It is almost impossible to describe how happy we were the next two weeks. The ship and every one on board were at our disposal.
The ship’s tailor made beautiful suits for the three boys, and lamented that he could not do the same for the rest of us. We were a shabby looking lot, as to clothing, for nothing had been bought for two years, and growing children are not very careful. Some brown linen curtains had been found in one of father’s stores and made into shirts for the boys and dresses for the girls. Shoes had been made out of stiff pieces of cloth, etc. It is useless to enter into these little details, for there would be no end to my story, and they are not essential.
The captain sent the boys to the mess-room, and the rest of us lived in his dining room. We were sent ashore each day for exercise and play, were allowed to bring shells and other treasures on board, and were petted and feasted and very, very happy. In fact, nothing was too good for us. The truth was that these men had been shut off from family life so long, many of them having children at home, that they were as happy as we, and it was a pleasant break in their monotonous routine.
One day the captain said to mother, “I know that whatever Confederate money you have is worthless, and you cannot possibly have any ‘greenbacks,’ so you must be without funds, and how will you get this family to Rhode Island?” She replied with much spirit, “It is my own affair how much or how little I have. I expect my husband has sent some money to Key West for my use.” “Very well,” said he, “I have ten thousand dollars here—prize money—that I want deposited in New York, and it would be a favor to me if you would carry it with you, using as much as you need, and your husband can replace it at his convenience.”
“Oh,” said mother, “I have all the responsibility I can bear now. I could not possibly take your money.” “Have you one hundred dollars?” asked the captain. “No.” “Have you fifty?” Such persistence brought the climax. “I’ll tell you just how much I have. Twelve gold dollars that belong to Cora.” “I thought as much,” said he. “Now, I insist upon your taking five hundred dollars, for you will need a good deal as soon as you leave us.” Such kindness could not be resisted and was accepted with much gratitude.
The days flew by very swiftly. Once a vessel was seen trying to run the blockade, and though we went after her with all haste, she made her escape. Another day we went ashore to see the men casting a seine. Quite large fish were caught and made good sport for the fishermen. Every time we went ashore, we were carried on the backs of the sailors, as the water was too shallow to permit even the small boats to land.
We enjoyed it all so much that if we had not had home in view we should have been very sorry when we saw the “Honduras” arrive, and knew that the time had come for us to leave our kind friends. The “Somerset” family was sincerely sorry to lose us, for our stay had been mutually pleasant.
However, the “Honduras” proved to be as happy a home as the “Somerset,” and our life on board for four days has always been a pleasant recollection. We stopped at Tampa and Cedar Keys, both very beautiful harbors, and distributed rations, mail, ammunition and other necessities at the blockading points. It was very interesting to watch.
When we arrived in Key West another problem presented itself. The town was full of refugees. The one hotel was crowded to its fullest capacity, and no boat from New Orleans in sight. It was after Butler had taken New Orleans, and a regular line of steamers plied between that city and New York. Yellow fever had broken out in Key West, and the expected steamer might not even come to the wharf.