Carrying contraband is dangerous business under the most favorable conditions. The hand of every nation is raised against you; though you be an American the flag of your own country, even, can give you no protection, for you are engaged in an illegal act, however much it may stand for the advancement of humanity and the spread of liberty. Save for those with whom you are allied, and who necessarily are few in number, else they would be recognized as belligerents and given the rights of war, any one who happens along the sea’s highway is liable to take a shot at you or try to capture you, on general principles. Therefore the commander of a filibustering expedition must regard desperate chances as a part of the daily routine, but he is unwise to add to his risks by complicating his mission. He must, too, be in the business chiefly for the love of the adventure it provides as royal payment, for the financial returns, except in cases out of the ordinary, are as nothing compared with the dangers that are encountered.

Just as I had expected, the “Virginius” after many narrow escapes was finally captured by the Spaniards on October 31, 1873, as she was about to land a mixed cargo of men and arms near Santiago. General Cespedes, the life of the revolution, and three of his best fighting chiefs, Generals Ryan, Varona, and Del Sal, who happened to be on board, were summarily executed. This was done, it was claimed, under prior sentences, but as a matter of fact there was not so much as a mockery of a trial, either at the time they were put to death or previously. All of the others who were on board were tried for piracy and promptly convicted, of course. Within a week after the seizure of the ship, Capt. Joseph Fry, her American commander, thirty-six of his crew, and sixteen “passengers,” were lined up and shot to death, with an excess of brutality. The rest of the prisoners, who were to have been similarly disposed of, were saved, not through intervention from Washington whence it should have come, but by the timely arrival of a British warship, whose commander refused to permit any further butchery. England peremptorily compelled the Spanish Government to pay a substantial indemnity for the British subjects who had been thus lawlessly executed, while the United States Government, as an evidence of the protection it gave American citizens in those days, waited twenty-five years before taking vengeance on Spain for the murder of Captain Fry and his companions. But for the “Virginius” Massacre and the bad blood it engendered between America and Spain, Cuba might still be taking orders from Madrid instead of from Washington; had it not been for that never forgotten butchery the blowing up of the “Maine” might have been regarded as an accident.

Along about 1868, after it had run half its length, the Ten Years’ War began to bog down. The Cubans were out of funds and appeared to have lost heart, and it looked as though the revolt would be another failure. There was nothing else doing in this part of the world in which I was interested so I decided to go to Europe, being attracted by the prospect of war between France and Germany and the adventurous possibilities which it suggested.

CHAPTER III
IN LEAGUE WITH THE SPANISH PRETENDER

DURING the Cuban filibustering days I gained more notoriety than I desired, even though it really was not a great deal, and as I did not wish to be known as a trouble-maker on the other side, where the laws against the carrying of contraband were being rigidly enforced on account of the recent “Alabama” affair, I lost my identity while crossing the Atlantic. When I reached London in the latter part of 1868 I was “George MacFarlane,” and in order that I might have an address and ostensible occupation I established the commercial house of George MacFarlane & Co., at 10 Corn Hill. My partner, who really was only a clerk, was a young Englishman named Cunningham, for whom I had been able to do a good turn while I was living in Chicago. I opened an account in the London & Westminster Bank with an initial deposit of close to seventy-five thousand pounds, which gave me a financial standing.

In order to establish my respectability with the British Board of Trade, which exercised a watchful eye and general supervision over the enforcement of the maritime laws, and to build up a reputation for eminent business respectability which would serve as a cover for the illicit but much more exciting operations in which I expected to engage as soon as opportunity offered, and at the same time to throw me naturally in contact with shipping concerns under the most favorable conditions, I bought several small vessels and began shipping general cargoes to and from the Continent, either on my own account or for others. Fate was kind to me in throwing in my way the little steamer “Leckwith,” which I bought at a bargain. She had been built as a yacht for a nobleman but did not suit him. She was not large enough to be used as a passenger boat and her depth of hold was not sufficient to make her profitable as a freighter, but she was exactly the ship I wanted as a carrier of contraband. She registered five hundred and twenty tons and could do seventeen knots when she was pushed. She was small enough to go anywhere, fast enough to beat anything that was likely to chase her, and big enough for my purposes. Until the day I buried her, years afterward, as the only means of destroying damning evidence, she served me faithfully and well, and I doubt if any ship, before or since, has made so much money for her owner.

One of the first shipping firms with which I became acquainted was that of H. Nickell & Son, of Leadenhall Street. They were speculators as well as merchants and I cultivated them, without having to wait long for results. Encouraged by the insurrection against the Bourbons, which had resulted in the abdication and flight to France of Queen Isabella, Don Carlos, the Spanish Pretender, was just then, in 1869, preparing to make his last fight for the long coveted crown of Spain. His chief agent had bought all of the arms and ammunition he could pay for from Kynoch & Co., of Birmingham, which establishment is now, I believe, owned by Joseph Chamberlain and his son and brother, though conducted under the old name, and had contracted with Nickell & Son for their delivery on the northern coast of Spain. They had lost one cargo, through the watchfulness of a Spanish warship, and had nearly come to grief with another, just before I became acquainted with them.

The Pretender’s agent then proposed that Don Carlos pay for the arms when they were delivered, instead of at the factory, as before, and suggested to Nickell & Son that they enter into a contract on that basis, to cover all future purchases.

Old man Nickell was considering this proposition when I met him and, suspecting that I had ideas regarding the sailing of ships that went beyond the uninteresting routine of strictly legitimate commerce, he told me about it, after we had come to know and understand each other a bit. Naturally, it appealed to me and it did not take us long to reach an agreement which, if it would not have blocked our plans and we had wanted to follow the foolish English fashion, would have enabled us to advertise ourselves as “Purveyors Extraordinary of Munitions of War to His Royal Majesty, Don Carlos.” It was agreed that Nickell should buy the arms while I should furnish the ship and deliver them. We were to charge a price commensurate with the risk we assumed, with something added,—for we had reason to believe the Pretender had plenty of money,—and divide the proceeds.

It was stipulated that the first consignment should be delivered to Don Carlos himself at his headquarters near Bilbao, and before accepting the cargo I went there on an iron-ore steamer to reconnoitre. I found that the Pretender’s retreat in the mountains back from Bilbao was in the very heart of that section of Spain which was most loyal to him. Carlist sentiment was almost unanimous in the Provinces of Vizcaya, Alava, and Guipuzcoa, and strong in the adjoining Provinces of Navarre, Catalonia, and Aragon, so there was nothing to fear once we succeeded in getting up the river. Even the city of Bilbao was largely composed of Carlist supporters, but the forts which commanded the river there and at Portugalete, the deep-water port of Bilbao on the coast at the mouth of the river, were manned by unfriendly troops. The two Generals, Prim and Serrano, who were the real rulers of Spain and who placed Prince Amadeo, son of the King of Italy, on the throne a year or so later, were as much opposed to the Carlists as they had been to the Bourbons. They did not propose that the Pretender should gain any ground during the troubled period which they had brought about by the expulsion of Queen Isabella. They knew he was trying to import arms from England and they had so many warships patrolling the northern coast that it practically amounted to a blockade; but, after my experience at Charleston, I did not regard that as a serious matter.