August 6th, 1863.
Yesterday, at almost noon, a steamer from the northward was made down from the signal-post, Lion's-hill. The Governor had, on the previous day, received a letter from Captain Semmes, dated Saldanha Bay, informing his Excellency that the gallant captain had put his ship into Saldanha Bay for repairs. This letter had been made public in the morning, and had caused no little excitement. Cape Town, that has been more than dull—that has been dismal for months, thinking and talking of nothing but bankruptcies—bankruptcies fraudulent and bankruptcies unavoidable—was now all astir, full of life and motion. The stoop of the Commercial Exchange was crowded with merchants, knots of citizens were collected at the corner of every street; business was almost, if not altogether suspended. All that could be gleaned, in addition to the information in Captain Semmes' letter to the Governor, a copy of which was sent to the United States Consul immediately it was received, was that the schooner Atlas had just returned from Malagas Island, where she had been with water and vegetables for men collecting guanos there. Captain Boyce, the master of the Atlas, reported that he had himself actually seen the steamer Alabama; a boat from the steamer had boarded his vessel, and he had been on board her. His report of Captain Semmes corroborated that given by every one else. He said the captain was most courteous and gentlemanly. He asked Captain Boyce to land thirty prisoners for him in Table Bay, with which request Captain Boyce was unable to comply. Captain Semmes said that the Florida was also a short distance off the Cape, and that the Alabama, when she had completed her repairs, and was cleaned and painted, would pay Table Bay a visit. He expected to be there, he said, very nearly as soon as the Atlas.
Shortly after the Atlas arrived, a boat brought up some of the prisoners from Saldanha Bay, and amongst them one of the crew of the Alabama, who said he had left the ship. All these waited on the United States Consul, but were unable to give much information beyond what we had already received. The news that the Alabama was coming into Table Bay, and would probably arrive about four o'clock this afternoon, added to the excitement. About noon a steamer from the north-west was made known by the signal-man on the hill. Could this be the Alabama? or was it the Hydaspes, from India, or the Lady Jocelyn, from England? All three were now hourly expected, and the city was in doubt. Just after one it was made down, "CONFEDERATE STEAMER ALABAMA, FROM THE N.W., AND FEDERAL BARQUE FROM THE S.E." Here was to be a capture by the celebrated Confederate craft, close to the entrance of Table Bay. The inhabitants rushed off to get a sight. Crowds of people ran up the Lion's-hill, and to the Kloof-road. All the cabs were chartered—every one of them; there was no cavilling about fares; the cabs were taken and no questions asked, but orders were given to drive as hard as possible. The barque coming in from the south-east, and, as the signal-man made down, five miles off; the steamer, coming in from the north-west, eight miles off, led us to think that the Kloof-road was the best place for a full view. To that place we directed our Jehu to drive furiously. We did the first mile in a short time; but the Kloof-hill for the next two and-a-half miles is up-hill work. The horse jibbed, so we pushed on, on foot, as fast as possible, and left the cab to come on. When we reached the summit, we could only make out a steamer on the horizon, from eighteen to twenty miles off. This could not be the Alabama, unless she was making off to sea again. There was no barque. As soon as our cab reached the crown of the hill, we set off at a breakneck pace down the hill, on past the Roundhouse, till we came near Brighton, and as we reached the corner, there lay the Alabama within fifty yards of the unfortunate Yankee. As the Yankee came round from the south-east, and about five miles from the bay, the steamer came down upon her. The Yankee was evidently taken by surprise. The Alabama fired a gun, and brought her to. When first we got sight of the Alabama, it was difficult to make out what she was doing; the barque's head had been put about, and the Alabama lay off quite immovable, as if she were taking a sight at the "varmint!" The weather was beautifully calm and clear, and the sea was as smooth and transparent as a sheet of glass. The barque was making her way slowly from the steamer, with every bit of her canvas spread. The Alabama, with her steam off, appeared to be letting the barque get clear off. What could this mean? no one understood. It must be the Alabama. "There," said the spectators, "is the Confederate flag at her peak; it must be a Federal barque, too, for there are the Stars and the Stripes of the States flying at her main." What could the Alabama mean lying there—
"As idly as a painted ship
Upon a painted ocean."
What it meant was soon seen. Like a cat watching and playing with a victimized mouse, Captain Semmes permitted his prize to draw off a few yards, and he then up steam again, and pounced upon her. She first sailed round the Yankee from stem to stern, and stern to stem again. The way that fine, saucy, rakish craft was handled was worth riding a hundred miles to see. She went round the bark like a toy, making a complete circle, and leaving an even margin of water between herself and her prize of not more than twenty yards. From the hill it appeared as if there were no water at all between the two vessels. This done, she sent a boat with the prize crew off, took possession in the name of the Confederate States, and sent the barque off to sea. The Alabama then made for the port.
We came round the Kloof to visit Captain Semmes on board. As we came we found the heights overlooking Table Bay covered with people; the road to Green Point lined with cabs. The windows of the villas at the bottom of the hill were all thrown up, and ladies waved their handkerchiefs, and one and all joined in the general enthusiasm; over the quarries, along the Malay burying-ground, the Gallows Hill, and the beach, there were masses of people—nothing but a sea of heads as far as the eye could reach. Along Strand Street and Adderley Street the roofs of all the houses from which Table Bay is overlooked, were made available as standing-places for the people who could not get boats to go off to her. The central, the north, the south, and the coaling jetties, were all crowded. At the central jetty it was almost impossible to force one's way through to get a boat. However, all in good time, we did get a boat, and went off in the midst of dingies, cargo-boats, gigs and wherries, all as full as they could hold. Nearly all the city was upon the bay; the rowing clubs in uniform pulled off with favoured members of their respective clubs on board. The crews feathered their oars in double-quick time, and their pulling, our "stroke" declared, was "a caution, and no mistake." Just before getting alongside, we passed Captain Wilson in the port-boat, who told us that the prize taken was the Sea Bride, and that there was no difficulty in hearing from Captain Semmes himself the whole story of the capture. We passed the Federal barque Urania at her anchorage, and that ship, disregardful of the privateer, sported all her bunting with becoming pluck. The Stars and Stripes floated defiantly from her-mizen peak, and her name from her main. On getting alongside the Alabama, we found about a dozen boats before us, and we had not been on board five minutes before she was surrounded by nearly every boat in Table Bay, and as boat after boat arrived, three hearty cheers were given for Captain Semmes and his gallant privateer. This, upon the part of a neutral people, is, perchance, wrong; but we are not arguing a case—we are recording facts. They did cheer, and cheer with a will, too. It was not, perhaps, taking the view of either side, Federal or Confederate, but in admiration of the skill, pluck, and daring of the Alabama, her captain, and her crew, who now afford a general theme of admiration for the world all over.
Visitors were received by the officers of the ship most courteously, and without distinction, and the officers conversed freely and unreservedly of their exploits. There was nothing like brag in their manner of answering questions put to them. They are as fine and gentlemanly a set of fellows as ever we saw; most of them young men. The ship has been so frequently described, that most people know what she is like, as we do who have seen her. We should have known her to be the Alabama if we had boarded her in the midst of the ocean, with no one to introduce us to each other. Her guns alone are worth going off to see, and everything about her speaks highly for the seamanship and discipline of the commander and his officers. She has a very large crew, fine, lithe-looking fellows, the very picture of English men-of-war's men.
The second officer told us that it was the Sea Bride they had captured, and pointed out her captain, who stood aft conversing with a number of people who had gathered round him. "This, sir," said the officer, "is our fifty-sixth capture; we have sent her off with about ten of our men as a crew, and we left a few of her own men on board of her." We asked him how he liked Saldanha Bay, and his answer was, "It is a very charming place. Why did you not build Cape Town there?" Our answer was, "Because we never do anything properly at the Cape." "Ah, sir!" he said; "that is a great mistake to leave so fine a bay without harbor conveniences. It is a great deal better than Table Bay. We enjoyed ourselves capitally there, had some good shooting; one of us shot an ostrich, a fine fellow, but he got away. Unfortunately, we lost one of our officers there—one whom we all respected—as fine an officer as ever trod this ship's deck. He was in a boat in the bay, shooting wild fowl; he drew his gun towards him, the barrel in his hand; the trigger caught, the charge passed through his lung, and his only dying words were, 'Oh, me!' and he fell back a corpse. But for that circumstance, we should always remember Saldanha Bay with pleasure. The gun was within an inch of his breast when it went off."
After this melancholy recital, we walked across to get a little chat with the prisoner so recently captured. He is a superior man, and spoke of the loss of his ship in the spirit of a philosopher. He was leaning against a rail just opposite the cabin. "What can't be cured must be endured," said he. In answer to our remark, that an hour more would have saved him, he said, "Yes, it would; I had not the remotest idea of a capture at this end of the world. I never supposed that she was in this direction. I was in my cabin, washing," said he, "and my mate came down and said there was a steamer in sight. 'Capital!' I said; 'it is the English mail-steamer; I shall be just in time for my letters.' He went up again, and shortly returning, said, 'She is going to hail us.' 'Hail us!' I said; 'what the deuce can she want to hail us for?' and I went on deck. I looked at that (pointing to the Confederate flag), and I soon saw who we were falling into the hands of. I said, 'Good-bye, mate; we shall not be long here.' This, sir," he went on to say, "is the second time I have been captured coming to the Cape. I left New York in the M.J. Calcon, and was captured by the Florida in 33° West and between 28° and 29° North. I went home all right, and left New York again on the 28th of May, direct for the Cape." This gentleman's name is Mr. H. Spaling.
The next we had an opportunity of conversing with was the chief officer. This gentleman who, by the way, stands six feet four out of his shoes, showed us round the ship with just pride. He pointed out to us the peculiar qualities of the magnificent guns. One of Blakeley's rifle pieces is a terrible-looking weapon. It throws conical shells of a hundred weight; and he remarked, "When we fought the Hatteras, these conical shells struck one after the other in capital style; they exploded with magnificent effect, and lit up her whole broadside." Many of the captured crew we observed in irons.