running the blockade 6

running the blockade 6

Having received the congratulations of my many friends at Nassau upon

possessing so fine a tool to work with, I at once set about getting her

ready for a trip as soon as the nights set in dark enough. For so

vigilant had the blockading force become by this time, that a successful

run was considered practically impossible except on moonless nights.

Invisibility, care, and determination were the secrets of success, and

to this end the _Banshee_ was carefully prepared. Everything aloft was

taken down, till nothing was left standing but the two lower masts with

small cross-trees for a look-out man on the fore, and the boats were

lowered to the level of the rails. The whole ship was then painted a

sort of dull white, the precise shade of which was so nicely ascertained

by experience before the end of the war that a properly dressed runner

on a dark night was absolutely indiscernible at a cable's length. So

particular were captains on this point that some of them even insisted

on their crews wearing white at night, holding that one black figure on

the bridge or on deck was enough to betray an otherwise invisible

vessel.

 

Perfect as the _Banshee_ looked, when her toilet was complete, I was

even more fortunate in my crew.

 

For captain I had Steele, one of the most daring and successful

commanders the time brought out. Absolutely devoid of fear, never

flurried, decided and ready in emergency, and careful as a mother, he

was the beau-ideal of a blockade-runner. Already he had served his

apprenticeship to the trade and knew what failure meant, for while in

command of the _Tubal Cain_ he had been captured on his very first trip,

and, after tasting for a short time the hospitality of an American

prison, had been released—richer by the experience, but in no wise

daunted.

 

The chief engineer, Erskine, too, had seen service, having worked as

second engineer on board the Confederate cruiser _Oreto_, when the

famous Captain Maffitt ran her into Savannah. As the engines of a

blockade-runner are her arm, her success must necessarily in great

measure depend on the qualities of her engineer, and it would have been

hard to find a better man for the task than Erskine. Cool in danger,

full of resource in sudden difficulty, and as steady as the tide, he was

yet capable of fearlessly risking everything and straining to the last

pound, when the word came, in one of those rousing forms of __EXPRESSION__

with which old Steele was wont to notify down the engine-room tube, that

the critical moment had come.

 

For pilot a Wilmington man had been sent out by our agents there, and

was waiting for me at Nassau. He too turned out a jewel. He knew his

port like his own face, and the most trying situations or heaviest

firing could never put him off or disturb his serene self-possession.

For all his duties he had an instinct that approached genius. On the

blackest night he could always make out a blockader several minutes

before any one else; and so acute at last did this sense become, that it

used to be a byword that Tom Burroughs at last got to smell a cruiser

long before he could see her.

 

Through the ignorance or cowardice of the pilot vessels were frequently

lost, and to obtain a good pilot was as troublesome as it was essential.

The risk they ran was great, for if captured they were never exchanged;

but their pay, which frequently amounted to £700 or £800 a round trip,

was proportionate to the risk.

 

Thus well equipped and laden with arms, gunpowder, boots, and all kinds

of contraband of war, as soon as the moon was right, the _Banshee_ stole

out of Nassau for the first time to make the best of her way to

Wilmington.

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER IV

 

THE _BANSHEE'S_ FIRST RUN IN

 

The approach to Wilmington—Fort Fisher—Tactics of the

blockading squadron—Reason of the _Banshee's_

success—The look-out man—The dangers of blockade-running—The

favourite course into Wilmington—All lights out—An anxious

moment—Taking soundings—In the midst of the enemy—A false

reckoning—The big hill—Attacked by gun-boats—Fort Fisher wide

awake—Safely over the bar—The days of champagne cocktails.

 

 

Wilmington was the first port I attempted; in fact with the exception of

one run to Galveston it was always our destination. It had many

advantages. Though furthest from Nassau it was nearest to headquarters

at Richmond, and from its situation was very difficult to watch

effectively. It was here moreover, that my firm had established its

agency as soon as they had resolved to takeup the blockade-running

business. The town itself lies some sixteen miles up the Cape Fear

river, which falls into the ocean at a point where the coast forms the

sharp salient angle from which the river takes its name. Off its mouth

lies a delta, known as Smith's Island, which not only emphasises the

obnoxious formation of the coast, but also divides the approach to the

port into two widely separated channels, so that in order to guard the

approach to it a blockading-force is compelled to divide into two

squadrons.

 

[Illustration: PLAN OF WILMINGTON HARBOUR.]

 

At one entrance of the river lies Fort Fisher, a work so powerful that

the blockaders instead of lying in the estuary were obliged to form

roughly a semicircle out of range of its guns, and the falling away of

the coast on either side of the entrance further increased the extent of

ground they had to cover. The system they adopted in order to meet the

difficulty was extremely well conceived, and, did we not know to the

contrary, it would have appeared complete enough to ensure the capture

of every vessel so foolhardy as to attempt to enter or come out.

 

Across either entrance an inshore squadron was stationed at close

intervals. In the daytime the steamers composing this squadron anchored,

but at night they got under weigh and patrolled in touch with the

flagship, which, as a rule, remained at anchor. Further out there was a

cordon of cruisers, and outside these again detached gun-boats keeping

at such a distance from the coast as they calculated a runner coming out

would traverse between the time of high water on Wilmington bar and

sunrise, so that if any blockade-runner coming out got through the two

inner lines in the dark she had every chance of being snapped up at

daybreak by one of the third division.

 

Besides these special precautions for Wilmington there must not be

forgotten the ships engaged in the general service of the blockade,

consisting, in addition to those detailed to watch Nassau and other

bases, of free cruisers that patrolled the Gulf-stream. From this it

will be seen readily, that from the moment the _Banshee_ left Nassau

harbour till she had passed the protecting forts at the mouth of Cape

Fear river, she and those on board her could never be safe from danger

or free for a single hour from anxiety. But, although at this time the

system was already fairly well developed, the Northerners had not yet

enough ships at work to make it as effective as it afterwards became.

 

The _Banshee's_ engines proved so unsatisfactory that under ordinary

conditions nine or ten knots was all we could get out of her; she was

therefore not permitted to run any avoidable risks, and to this I

attribute her extraordinary success where better boats failed. As long

as daylight lasted a man was never out of the cross-trees, and the

moment a sail was seen the _Banshee's_ stern was turned to it till it

was dropped below the horizon. The lookout man, to quicken his eyes, had

a dollar for every sail he sighted, and if it were seen from the deck

first he was fined five. This may appear excessive, but the importance

in blockade-running of seeing before you are seen is too great for any

chance to be neglected; and it must be remembered that the pay of

ordinary seamen for each round trip in and out was from £50 to £60.

 

Following these tactics we crept noiselessly along the shores of the

Bahamas, invisible in the darkness, and ran on unmolested for the first

two days out, though our course was often interfered with by the

necessity of avoiding hostile vessels; then came the anxious moment on

the third, when, her position having been taken at noon to see if she

was near enough to run under the guns of Fort Fisher before the

following daybreak, it was found there was just time, but none to spare

for accidents or delay. Still the danger of lying out another day so

close to the blockaded port was very great, and rather than risk it we

resolved to keep straight on our course and chance being overtaken by

daylight before we were under the Fort.

 

Now the real excitement began, and nothing I have ever experienced can

compare with it. Hunting, pig-sticking, steeple-chasing, big-game

shooting, polo—I have done a little of each—all have their thrilling

moments, but none can approach "running a blockade"; and perhaps my

readers can sympathise with my enthusiasm when they consider the dangers

to be encountered, after three days of constant anxiety and little

sleep, in threading our way through a swarm of blockaders, and the

accuracy required to hit in the nick of time the mouth of a river only

half a mile wide, without lights and with a coast-line so low and

featureless that as a rule the first intimation we had of its nearness

was the dim white line of the surf.

 

There were of course many different plans of getting in, but at this

time the favourite dodge was to run up some fifteen or twenty miles to

the north of Cape Fear, so as to round the northernmost of the

blockaders, instead of dashing right through the inner squadron; then to

creep down close to the surf till the river was reached: and this was

the course the _Banshee_ intended to adopt.