No event of the great civil war excited such deep indignation, such bitter resentment, as the career of the Alabama. It was not alone because she committed such havoc with our commerce—burning our merchantmen in great numbers; nor was it because she had sunk the Hatteras—a merchant steamer converted into a gun-boat; but it was because England had sent out a British ship, with British guns, and seamen trained in her own practice-ship, a vessel English in every essential but her flag, to lay waste the commerce of a country with which she professed to be at peace. To add to the provocation, this vessel was originally called the “290,” to show, by the large number who had contributed to fit her out, how widespread was English sympathy for the cause she was to support. The Alabama was not regarded as a Confederate vessel of war, but as an English man-of-war, sent forth under the thin veil of another flag, to sink and destroy our merchantmen. The short-lived triumph in which England indulged turned out to be about as costly a pleasure as she could well have taken; and deeply mortified as we were that the successful rover should escape our watchful cruisers, and so long pursue, unmolested, her work of destruction, in the end the pride of England was more deeply and bitterly wounded than our own, while at the same time she was held responsible for the destruction of our property. England will probably have reason to remember the Alabama quite as long as the Americans.
SINKING OF THE ALABAMA BY THE KEARSARGE, OFF CHERBOURG, FRANCE.
The successful movements of this vessel were such as to attract the attention of Europe as well as America. Semmes, her commander, seemed to have been adopted as a sort of English champion, and judging from the expressions of most of the English papers, and what Americans believed to be the effective though quiet support of the English Government, the governing class, at least, in Great Britain were as much pleased with the success of the Alabama as were the people of the South. There was enough of mystery connected with the operations to excite the imagination, and scarcely was any phantom ship ever invested with a more unreal character than was this modern highwayman of the sea.
She seemed to be everywhere, and yet nowhere to be found when sought for by our ships; and some were inclined to think that our naval officers were not very anxious to find her. The result showed how little reason there was for such an injurious suspicion. There could be no more difficult task than to overtake a single fast steamer to which all seas were open, and which constantly shifted her cruising ground. She seldom entered a port, getting coal and provisions from captured vessels, and so could not readily be traced. She burned or sunk the captured vessels, and then disappeared. The public naturally magnified her size, speed and power, but the Navy Department was well informed about her, and knew just what sort of vessel to send in pursuit of her.
Early in 1862 Captain John A. Winslow, of the United States Navy, was sent, in command of the steam-sloop Kearsarge, to cruise on the coast of Europe for the Alabama and her associate vessels.
He blockaded the Florida for some time, but was forced to give her a chance to escape, by the necessity of going for coal and stores. He lay two months off Calais, where the Rappahannock was found, and at last, in despair of getting to sea, the Rebel cruiser was dismantled and laid up.
Soon after this he learned that the Alabama was at Cherbourg, and he immediately sailed for that port, and took up a position off the famous breakwater.
Semmes was now, for the first time, placed in a position where he would either have to fight the Kearsarge, or submit to be blockaded by a ship in every way a fair match for him.
If he declined battle he would be disgraced in the eyes of all Europe. Should he succeed, his victory would have a great moral effect, especially from the scene of action attracting general attention. People of all nations would hear of it, and augur well for the Confederate cause, whose attention would never be drawn by such a combat, if it occurred on the other side of the Atlantic.