Chapter 15

RICHMOND DURING THE SIEGE.

After the excitement of the last six or eight months I could not long rest in England, satisfied with the newspaper accounts of the goings on in the blockade-running world. So I got the command of a new and very fast paddle-wheel vessel, and went out again. The American Government had determined to do everything in its power to stop blockade-running, and had lately increased the force of blockaders on the southern coast by some very fast vessels built at New York. Being aware of this, some of the first shipbuilders in England and Scotland were put, by persons engaged in blockade-running, on their mettle, to try and build steamers to beat them, and latterly it became almost a question of speed, especially in the daylight adventures, between blockaders and blockade-runners.

Some of the vessels on this side of the water were constructed regardless of any good quality but speed, consequently their scantling was light, and their seagoing qualities very inferior. Many of them came to grief; two or three swamped at sea; others, after being out a few days, struggled back into Queenstown, the lamest of lame ducks; while some got out as far as Nassau quite unfit for any further work.

My vessel was one of the four built by R---- and G---- of Glasgow, and was just strong enough to stand the heavy cross sea in the Gulf Stream. She was wonderfully fast, and, taking her all in all, was a success. On one occasion I had a fair race in the open day with one of the best of the new vessels that the American Government had sent out to beat creation wherever she could meet it, and I fairly ran away from her.

On arriving at Wilmington in my new vessel I started to have a look at Richmond, which city was then besieged on its southern and eastern sides by General Grant, who, however, was held in check by Lee at Petersburg, a small town situated in an important position about eighteen miles from the capital. To get to Richmond was not easily accomplished without making a long _détour_ into the interior (for which we had no time), for the outposts of the contending armies disputed possession of the last forty miles of the railroad between Wilmington and Petersburg, the latter town being on the line to Richmond. As telegraphic communication was stopped, it was a difficult matter to ascertain, day by day, whether a train could pass safely.

We had in our party the young General Custos Lee, a nephew of the Confederate commander-in-chief, on his way to his uncle's headquarters, who kindly offered his assistance in getting us through. When we arrived at a station some forty miles from Richmond we found, as we feared would be the case, our further progress by rail impracticable, but we got hold of a couple of waggons drawn by mules, into which we managed to stow ourselves and baggage the latter, by the way, being of considerable importance, as it contained several cases of drinkables, not to be obtained for love or money where we were going to. We travelled through all sorts of by-lanes, bumped almost to pieces for four miles, steering in the direction of the headquarters of the cavalry outposts, which were commanded by a celebrated raiding officer, also a nephew of the commander-in-chief. At last we found ourselves in a beautiful green valley surrounded by thick woods, where the general and his staff were quartered. He had with him two or three thousand cavalry, who, in spite of their bad clothing and somewhat hungry appearance, were as fine-looking a body of men as one would wish to see.

The general and his staff gave us a hearty welcome. Poor fellows, it was all they had to offer! We on our part produced sundry cases of sardines, Bologna sausages, and other tempting condiments wherewith to make a feast.

The drink we mixed in two horse buckets cleaned up for the occasion; a dozen or so of claret, a couple of bottles of brandy, and half a dozen of soda water, the whole cooled with two or three lumps of ice (of which article, as if in mockery, the Southerners had heaps). All these good things were duly appreciated, not only by our new friends, who for months past had tasted nothing but coarse rye-bread and pork washed down with water, but also by well-shaken travellers like ourselves. Lying on the grass in that lovely spot, it seemed as if the war and all its horrors were for the moment forgotten. There were several Englishmen among the officers composing the staff, who had (they said) come out here to see active service, which they unquestionably had found to their hearts' content. They seemed the sort of men who would do credit to their country. I often wonder what has become of them; in one of them I was particularly interested. He said his name was Cavendish, but it may have been a _nom de guerre_.

While we were in the camp a picket came in, whose officer reported having had a skirmish with the enemy, in which the Northerners had been whipped. The way the cavalry outposts engaged with each other was curious enough. The ground they met on did not admit of cavalry charges being made, as thick underwood covered the country for miles round. So, when they were inclined for a brush, they dismounted, tied their horses to trees, and skirmished in very open lines, every man picking out his special enemy. When they had had enough of it, they picked up their killed and wounded, and, mounting their horses, rode away.

After passing four or five hours with our cavalry friends we bade them good-bye, and started (still accompanied by our valuable companion, the young general) on our way to the headquarters of the army, where we were to pass the night. It was well for us that we travelled in such good company, for having to pass all along the outskirts of the Southern army, we were constantly stopped and interrogated by patrols and pickets. Besides which we were sometimes disagreeably near to the outposts of the 'boys in blue,' as Grant's men were called. Having arrived very late in the evening at our destination, we bivouacked under the trees close to the headquarters of the general commanding, who was away at the front, and not expected back till the next evening. The rattle of musketry and the boom of heavy guns all through the night reminded us of our vicinity to the theatre of war, and somewhat disturbed our rest. But if we were a little nervous, we took care not to show it. In the morning we started in our waggons, and, after travelling a few miles across the country, came to the railway that connected the camp with Richmond. A train shortly afterwards picked us up and landed us at the capital of Virginia, where we took up our quarters at a comfortable-looking hotel. There was more to drink and eat here than at Charleston, consequently people had cheerful countenances. Liquor was, however, dear, brandy being sold at twenty-five shillings per bottle, it having to be run through the blockade. Here we found that the people had that wonderful blind confidence in the Southern cause which had mainly supported them through all difficulties.

At this moment, though a line of earthworks hurriedly thrown up in a few hours at Petersburg was nearly all that kept Grant's well-organised army from entering the capital; though the necessaries of war, and even of life, were growing alarmingly short; though the soldiers were badly fed, and only half-clothed or protected from the inclemency of the weather (one blanket being all that was allowed to three men), still every one seemed satisfied that the South would somehow or other gain the day, and become an independent nation.

While in Richmond I had the pleasure of making the acquaintance of the talented correspondent of the 'Times,' who, although in a position to look on calmly at passing events, was so carried away by his admiration of the wonderful pluck shown by the Southerners, and by the general enthusiasm of the people among whom he lived, that he allowed himself to be buoyed up with the hope that something would eventually turn up in their favour, and in his letters never seemed to despair. Had he done otherwise he would have stood alone, so he swam with the tide; whereas all of us, especially those who were mere lookers-on, should have seen the end coming months before we were obliged to open our eyes to the fact that it was come. Through his acquaintance with the big-wigs, we managed to get a few of them to accept an invitation to a feed, as we could offer luxuries such as could not be found in Richmond.

Some of the first men in the Confederacy honoured us with their company, and made themselves uncommonly agreeable, seeming quite a jolly set of fellows. I fear that they have nearly all come to grief since then, except Mr. Benjamin, the Minister of Foreign Affairs, who before his death, which occurred several years after the time that I write, made himself a name in England worthy of his high talents and education.

I had the honour, while in Richmond, of being invited to a tea party by Mrs. Davis, the President's wife, which I thought very interesting. The ladies were all dressed in deep mourning; some (the greater part) for the sad reason that they had lost near and dear relatives in the wretched war; the others, I suppose, were in mourning for their country's misfortunes. Mrs. Davis moved about the room saying something civil to every one, while the President, though a stern-looking man who never smiled, tried to make himself agreeable to his guests, and gave one the idea of a thorough gentleman. I saw there military officers who had lately come from the front, surrounded by groups of people anxious for news; delegates from distant seceding States; messengers from Hood's army, about which many were beginning to be anxious; sympathising foreigners, government officials, and many others. The whole of the conversation naturally related to the prospects of the cause, and no one would have guessed from what he heard in President Davis's house that the end was so near.

I was anxious before my return to see something of the army that had so long defended Richmond. So I only remained a few days at the capital, after which I left it and its, alas! too confiding inhabitants, and made my way as best I could to the headquarters of the commander-in-chief. There I presented my letters of introduction to General Lee.

It would perhaps be impertinence on my part to attempt to eulogise the character of this excellent man and good soldier, who, most thoroughly believing in the justice of the Southern cause, had sacrificed everything he possessed in its behalf, and had thrown all his energy and talent into the scale in its favour. Many who knew him well have done and will continue to do justice to his patriotism and self-denial. I had a very long conversation with him, which I wish I could repeat without being guilty of a breach of confidence, as evidence of the sensible notions he had formed of the state of affairs in the South. He was the only man I met during my travels who took a somewhat gloomy view of the military prospects of the country--of which, as a soldier, there could be no better judge.

After spending twenty-four hours in the camp, we went to the railway station to see if we could get places for Wilmington. We found that the line was in the hands of the Southerners, and that although the 'boys in blue' had a vulgar habit of firing into the carriages as they passed, the trains were running each night. But a train running and a non-combatant passenger getting a place in a carriage were widely different things, every available seat being taken up by sick and wounded soldiers. I made a frantic effort to get into the train somehow, and after a severe struggle succeeded in scrambling into a sort of horse-box and sat me down on a long deal box, which seemed rather a comfortable place to sleep on. It was pitch dark when I got into the train, and we were obliged to keep in the dark until we had run the gauntlet of the Northern pickets, who favoured us with a volley or two at a long range from the hills overlooking the railway. When we were clear of them I lighted a match, and to my horror found that I was comfortably lounging on a coffin. I wished I had not thrown a light on the subject, but by degrees, becoming accustomed I suppose to my position, I sank into a comfortable sleep and was really quite sorry when, on arriving at some station just before daylight, people came to remove my peculiar though far from uncomfortable couch. I felt its loss the more, for in its place they put a poor fellow wounded nearly to death, whose moans and cries were, beyond anything, distressing. We were a long time getting to Wilmington, as it was necessary to stop and repair most of the bridges on the line before the train could venture over them, an operation at which all passengers sound in wind and limb had to assist.

On arriving there we found all the world in a state of great excitement, on account of there having been a terrible fire among the cotton lying on the quays ready for embarkation, supposed to have been the work of an incendiary.

The recollections of my last proceedings in the blockade-running are far from pleasant, and I shall pass them over as briefly as possible.

When we had only the American Government cruisers to fear, we enjoyed the excitement in the same way as a man enjoys fox-hunting (only, by the way, we were the fox instead of the huntsmen), but when dire disease, in the worst form that Yellow Jack could take, stalked in amongst us, and reduced our numbers almost hourly, things became too serious to be pleasant.

However, before the fever showed itself we made one successful round trip in the new vessel (in and out) in capital form, having some exciting chases and little adventures, all very similar to what I have described before, the vessel doing credit to her designers on all occasions. We landed one thousand one hundred and forty bales of cotton at Bermuda, and it was after we had started from Wilmington on our second trip that the horrid yellow fever broke out among us. I believe that every precaution was taken by the Government of the island to prevent the disease from spreading, but increased by the drunkenness, dissipation, and dirty habits of the crews of the blockade-runners, and the wretchedly bad drainage of the town of St. George, it had lately broken out with great violence, and had spread like wildfire, both on the shore and among the shipping. It must have been brought on board our ship by some of the men, who had been spending much time on shore; we had not been twenty-four hours at sea before the fever had got deadly hold on our crew.

We went to Halifax, where we landed our sick and inhaled some purer air; but it was of no avail. The fever was in the vessel and we could not shake it off. The poor fellows as soon as we were out at sea again began to drop off. I never can forget an incident of that voyage, which, as it could only have happened during blockade-running times, I will mention, melancholy though it was. Two men died in the middle watch one night, when we were in very dangerous waters. Their bodies were wrapped in rough shrouds, ready to be committed to the deep when daylight broke, as we dared not show a light whereby to read the Funeral Service. I never waited so anxiously or thought the dawn so long in coming. I was waiting with my Prayer-book in my hands straining my eyes to make out the service; the men with their hats off, standing by the bodies, ready to ease them down into the sea. Our minds I fear wandered towards the danger that existed (almost to a certainty) of a cruiser making us out by the same light that enabled us to perform our sad office. However, as soon as there was light enough, the service was read without any indecent hurry, and fortunately nothing was in sight to disturb us for several hours afterwards.

It was miserable work. That morning about seven o'clock a man came up from the engine-room, and while trying to say something to me fell down in a fit, and was dead in half an hour. There was quite a panic among us all, and as if to make things worse to the superstitious sailors, whenever we stopped several horrid sharks immediately showed themselves swimming round the vessel. The men lost all heart, and would I think have been thankful to have been captured, as a means of escape from what they believed to be a doomed vessel. Taking into consideration that if we got into Wilmington we should, with this dreadful disease on board, have been put into almost interminable quarantine (for the inhabitants of Wilmington having been decimated before by yellow fever, which was introduced by blockade-runners, had instituted the most severe sanitary laws), I determined to go back to Halifax.

On arriving there I was taken very ill with yellow fever, and on my recovery made up my mind to give up blockade-running for ever and all. The game indeed was fast drawing to a close. Its decline was caused in the first by the impolitic behaviour of the people at Wilmington, who, professedly acting under orders from the Confederate Government at Richmond, pressed the blockade-runners into their service to carry out cotton on Government account, in such an arbitrary manner that the profit to their owners, who had been put to an enormous expense and risk in sending vessels in, was so much reduced that the ventures hardly paid. And when at last Fort Fisher was taken, and thus all blockade-running entirely put an end to, the enterprise had lost much of its charm; for, unromantic as it may seem, much of that charm consisted in money-making.

However, I will mention one or two instances to show what the love of enterprise will lead men to do, and with these I will close my narration.

On the first night of the attack on Fort Fisher, which it may be remembered was a failure entirely through bad management, though its little garrison fought like lions, a blockade-runner unaware of what was going on, finding that the blockading squadron was very near inshore and hearing a great deal of firing, kept creeping nearer to the fort, till she was near enough to make out what they were doing. Judging rightly that they would never suspect that any attempt would be made to run the blockade at such a time, she joined a detachment of gun-boats and went deliberately in as one of them. When they, being repulsed, had steamed away, our friend remained at anchor under the fort, much to the astonishment of the garrison. It would have been rather awkward if the fort had been taken, but in such times no one looks very far ahead.

Another vessel went out from Wilmington the same night, and was unmolested. But fortune does not always favour the brave. Fort Fisher was at last taken _unbeknownst_, as the sailors say, to the blockade-runners at Nassau or Bermuda, at which places the blindest confidence was still felt in everything connected with the fortunes of the South, and where to whisper an opinion that any mishap might happen to Wilmington was positively dangerous. The crafty Northerners placed the lights for going over the bar as usual. The blockade-runners came cautiously on, and congratulating themselves at seeing no cruisers ran gaily into the port. The usual feasting and rejoicings were about to commence when a boat full of armed men came alongside, and astonished them by telling them that they were in the lion's mouth. This happened to four or five vessels before the news had reached the islands. It was hard lines, no doubt, but quite fair play. It was the blockaders' turn to laugh now.