A Brief Stay at Home.—Report to the War Department.—Instructions to go abroad.—The Blockade-runner "Kate."—Voyage to Nassau.—Yellow Fever.—The Undertaker.—Our Skipper "Captain Dick."—The Major sick.—A Story for the Marines.—Arrival at Cardenas.—The Coolies.—Arrival at Havana.—The American Consul and I.—The Pirate Marti.—The Spanish Steamer.—Pretty Harbors.—Captain Fry.
After reporting at the Navy Department, I proceeded to my home. The day after my arrival there I was summoned by telegram to Richmond, to report in person to the Secretary of War. I had been detailed for special duty, and from this date commenced my connection with blockade running. Upon reaching the office, I found written instructions from the Secretary of War to proceed to England and purchase a steamer suitable for running the blockade, to load her with arms, munitions of war, and other supplies, and to bring her into a Confederate port with all dispatch. Ample funds in sterling exchange were provided and a large amount of Confederate bonds was entrusted to me for deposit with an agent of the Government in England. Accompanied by my small staff of assistants, and by Major Ben. Ficklin, who went abroad under special instructions from the War and Treasury Departments, I left Richmond about the 12th of August, and after some difficulty and delay, secured passage for the whole party on board the little steamer Kate, about to sail from Wilmington for Nassau. Under her skilful commander, Lockwood, this little side-wheel steamer had already acquired fame as a successful blockade-runner, and was destined to continue successful to the end of her career. But her appearance was by no means prepossessing, and she was very slow, her maximum speed being about nine knots. I forget by what accident she was at last disabled; perhaps by sheer old age and infirmity; but her ribs were to be seen for many a day before the war ended, bleaching in the sun on one of the mud flats in Cape Fear River.
The night of our crossing the bar was dark and stormy and we felt under great obligations to the blockading fleet outside, for showing lights at their peaks—thus enabling us to avoid them with much ease. At this period, indeed, blockade running had not assumed such enormous proportions as it afterwards attained, when hundreds of thousands of dollars were invested in a single venture and the profits were so immense that the game was well worth the candle. Subsequent to the period of which I now write, Wilmington became the chief place of import and export. Large quantities of cotton were stored there, both on Government and private account; and steam cotton presses were erected, but at this period Charleston possessed greater facilities and was perhaps quite as accessible.
Our voyage to Nassau was safely accomplished; the vigilant look-out at the mast-head giving prompt notice of a speck on the horizon no larger than a gull's wing, when the course would be so changed as to lose sight of it. Two cases of yellow fever, both ending fatally, occurred among the passengers during the brief voyage, and we were quarantined on our arrival at Nassau. One of the sick men had been brought on deck and placed on a couch under the deck awning. As he had taken no nourishment for two or three days, our good captain directed that a bowl of soup should be prepared for him. The sick man sat up when the steaming bowl was presented to him; seized it with both hands, drained it to the bottom, and fell back dead. We had not been at anchor more than an hour when an outward-bound passing schooner hailed us and announced to our captain the death of his wife and child, whom he had left in good health only a few days before.
As the epidemic on board the Kate had been contracted at Nassau, and still prevailed on shore, we were at a loss to understand why we should be refused "pratique"; but it gave our little party no concern, as the town did not present an attractive or inviting appearance from the quarantine ground; nor were our unfavorable impressions removed upon a nearer acquaintance with it two or three months afterwards. But it was evident, that in spite of the epidemic, there was a vast deal of activity ashore and afloat. Cotton, cotton, everywhere!
Blockade-runners discharging it into lighters, tier upon tier of it, piled high upon the wharves, and merchant vessels, chiefly under the British flag, loading with it. Here and there in the crowded harbor might be seen a long, low, rakish-looking lead-colored steamer with short masts, and a convex forecastle deck extending nearly as far aft as the waist, and placed there to enable the steamer to be forced through and not over a heavy head sea. These were the genuine blockade-runners, built for speed; and some of them survived all the desperate hazards of the war.
The mulatto undertaker, who came on board to take the measure for coffins for the two passengers who had died, did not leave us in a very cheerful state of mind, although he was in fine spirits, in the anticipation of a brisk demand for his stock in trade.
Presenting each one of us with his card, he politely expressed the hope that we would give him our custom, if we needed anything in his line. Fortunately we had no occasion for his services. Just before leaving the ship he was invited to take a glass of brandy and water. Holding the glass in his hands which were yet stained with the coffin paint, he drank to our death, a toast to which Dyer, my Wilmington pilot, responded, "You shouldn't bury me, you d—d rascal, if I did die."
With the assistance of the Confederate agent on shore, we succeeded in promptly chartering a schooner for Cardenas and in provisioning her for the voyage; and in a day or two, were making our way across the Bahama Banks for Cuba. The agent had supplied us liberally with flesh, fowls, and ice; and the Banks gave us an abundance of fish, as the light winds fanned us slowly along, sometimes freshening into a moderate breeze, and occasionally dying away to a calm. The "chef d'œuvre" of our mulatto skipper who was also cook, was conch soup, and he was not only an adept at cooking but also at catching the conch. In those almost transparent waters, the smallest object can be distinctly seen at the depth of three or four fathoms. When soup was to be prepared Captain Dick would take his station at the bow "in puris naturalibus," watching intently for his prize. Overboard he would go like an arrow, and rising again to the surface, would pitch the conch (and sometimes one in each hand) on board. His son Napoleon Bonaparte, (who was first mate, steward and half the starboard watch) would throw him a rope, and the old fellow would climb on board as the little craft sailed by, without an alteration in her course.
Major Ben. Ficklin was attacked with yellow fever just after we left Nassau; but as we had no medicines on board he recovered. The medical fraternity might perhaps take a hint from the treatment of his case. Small lumps of ice were kept in a saucer beside him as he lay on a mattress under a deck awning, and by the constant use of it he allayed the raging thirst attending high fever. The "vis medicatrix naturæ" accomplished the rest.