running the blockade 9

running the blockade 9

Steele and I had hit on a plan for getting out that promised almost a

certainty of success. Its security lay in its impudence, a cardinal

virtue of blockade-running, which, as will be seen later on in some of

the more critical scenes, approached the sublime. The idea was perhaps

obvious enough. As has been said, the flagship during the night remained

at anchor, while the other ships moved slowly to and fro upon the inner

line, leaving, as was natural enough, a small area round the Admiral's

ship unpatrolled. This was enough for us. Bringing up the _Banshee_

behind Fort Fisher, where she could lie hidden from the blockaders till

nightfall, we rowed ashore to get from Colonel Lamb the last news of the

squadron's movements and to ascertain which ship bore the Admiral's

flag. She proved to be the _Minnesota_, a large sixty-gun frigate: her

bearings were accurately taken, and as soon as night fell the _Banshee_

stole quietly from her concealment, slipped over the bar, dark as it

was, and by the aid of Steele's observations ran in perfect security

close by the flagship and out to sea well clear of the first cordon.

 

In trying to pass the second, however, we were less successful, for we

ran right across a gunboat; she saw us and at once opened fire; but slow

as the _Banshee_ was, luckily the Northern gunboats for the most part

were slower still, so we had no difficulty in increasing the distance

between us till it was felt we were out of sight again. Our helm was

then put hard over, giving us a course at right angles to the one we had

been steaming, and after keeping it a few minutes we stopped. It was a

manœuvre nearly always successful, provided the helm was not put over

too soon, and this time it achieved the usual result. As we lay

perfectly still, watching the course of the gunboat by the flashes of

her guns and by the rockets she was sending up to attract her consorts,

we had the satisfaction of seeing her labouring furiously past us and

firing wildly into black space.

 

There still remained the danger at daybreak of the third cordon, and

with anxious eyes the horizon was scoured as the darkness began to fail.

A daylight chase with the _Banshee_ in her present condition could not

be thought of, but fortunately not a sign of a cruiser was to be seen.

All that day, and the next and the next, we steamed onward with our

hearts in our mouths, turning our stern to every sail or patch of smoke

that was seen, till, on the evening of the third day, we steamed into

Nassau as proudly as a heavy list to starboard would allow.

 

So ended my first attempt, a triumphant success! Besides the inward

freight of £50 a ton on the war material, I had earned by the tobacco

ballast alone £7000, the freight for which had been paid at the rate of

£70 a ton. But this was a flea-bite compared to the profit on the 500

odd bales of cotton we had on board, which was at least £50 per bale.

 

No wonder I took kindly to my new calling, and no wonder I at once set

to work to get the _Banshee_ reloaded for another run before the

moonless nights were over.

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER VI

 

THE REST OF THE _BANSHEE_ NO. 1.'s CAREER

 

Breakdown of the _Banshee's_ machinery—Heavily peppered

by gunboats—The help of signal lights—A change of tactics—An

awkward alternative—Hailed by a cruiser—A slanging match—Grape

and canister—The _Banshee_ on fire—Shipping a fresh cargo—A

careless look-out man—Pursued by the _James Adger_—A

ding-dong race—Cargo thrown overboard—A stowaway comes to

light—A crucial moment—The _James Adger_ relinquishes

her pursuit—Our last coal used—Secure in British

territory—Negotiations for coal—A demoralised crew—Safe in

Nassau—End of the _Banshee's_ career—Profit of blockade-running.

 

 

To give in detail every trip of the _Banshee_ would be wearisome. I made

in her seven more in all, each one of which had its peculiar excitement.

Looking back it seems nothing short of a miracle that, ill-constructed

and ill-engined as she was, she so long escaped the numerous dangers to

which she was exposed. I well remember, on our second run in, an

accident which no one could have foreseen, and which came within an ace

of ending her career.

 

After a busy time discharging our cargo and getting coaled and loaded in

order to save a trip before the moon grew too much, we made another

start, and after a rough passage reached within striking distance of our

port. It was a very dark but calm night; we had made out several

blockaders and safely eluded them, when suddenly a tearing and rending

of wood was heard, and splinters from our port paddle-box fell in all

directions. The engines were stopped at once; it was then discovered

that one of the paddle-floats, which were made of steel, had split,

causing the broken part to come violently in contact with the paddle-box

at each revolution. There was nothing for it but to stop and attempt to

unscrew the damaged float; a sail was placed round the paddle-box and

two of the engineers were lowered down and commenced work: not many

minutes elapsed before a cruiser hove in sight, and we made certain we

had been discovered. Although she came on until she was not more than a

hundred yards away on our beam, curious to state she never saw us, but,

after lying motionless, much to our relief she steamed away, and oh! how

pleasant it was to hear that float drop into the water.

 

We felt our way towards the bar, and although we were heavily peppered

by two gunboats which were lying close in, we escaped untouched and soon

had our signal lights set for going over the bar. These signal lights

were of course a great assistance, but latterly the Northerners used to

place launches close in, and when those in charge saw the lights

exhibited they signalled to the blockaders, who immediately commenced

shelling the bar, rendering it very unpleasant for us; so much so that

we generally preferred to find our way over it without lights, as the

lesser risk of the two. It was the custom for each steamer to carry a

Confederate signalman, who by means of a code could communicate with the

shore, in the daytime with flags, at night by flashes from lamps. If the

leading lights were required, the pilots in the fort set two lights

which, when in line, led us through deep water over the bar.

 

This was an average run in, but more exciting ones were to follow. In

the earlier stages of blockade-running, such as those I have mentioned,

we used to go well to the northward and make the coast some fifteen or

twenty miles above Fort Fisher, thus going round the fleet instead of

through it. By this means we were the better enabled to strike the coast

unobserved, steaming quietly down, just outside the surf, until we

arrived close to Fort Fisher, where we had to go somewhat to seaward, in

order to avoid a certain shoal called the North Breaker. Although this

generally brought us into close contact with the blockaders, still we

knew exactly where we were as regards the bar. Subsequently the

Northerners stopped this manœuvre, as we found to our peril.

 

One very dark night (I think it was either on the fourth or fifth trip

of the _Banshee_) we made the land about twelve miles above Fort Fisher,

and were creeping quietly down as usual, when all at once we made a

cruiser out, lying on our port-bow, and slowly moving about two hundred

yards from the shore. It was a question of going inside or outside her;

if we went outside she was certain to see us, and would chase us into

the very jaws of the fleet. As we had very little steam up we chose the

former alternative, hoping to pass unobserved between the cruiser and

the shore, aided by the dark background of the latter. It was an

exciting moment; we got almost abreast of her, as we thought,

unobserved, and success seemed within our grasp, till we saw her move in

towards us and heard her hail us as we came on, "Stop that steamer or I

will sink you"!

 

Old Steele growled out that we hadn't time to stop, and shouted down the

engine-room tube to Erskine to pile on the coals, as concealment was no

longer of any use. Our friend, which we afterwards found out was the

_Niphon_, opened fire as fast as she could and sheered close into us, so

close that her boarders were called away twice, and a slanging match

went on between us, like that sometimes to be heard between two penny

steamboat captains on the Thames. She closed the dispute by shooting

away our fore mast, exploding a shell in our bunkers, and, when we began

to leave her astern, by treating us to grape and canister. It was a

miracle that no one was killed, but the crew were all lying flat on the

deck, except the steersman; and at one time I fear he did the same, for

as Pilot Burroughs suddenly cried, "My God, Mr. Taylor, look there"! I

saw our boat heading right into the surf, so, jumping from the bridge, I

ran aft and found the helmsman on his stomach. I rushed at the wheel and

got two or three spokes out of it, which hauled her head off the land,

but it was a close shave.

 

Two miles farther on we picked up another cruiser, which tried to treat

us in a similar manner, but as we had plenty of steam we soon left her.

A little farther we came across a large side-wheel boat, which tried to

run us down, missing us only by a few yards; after that we were

unmolested and arrived in safe, warmly congratulated by Lamb, who

thought from the violent cannonade that we must certainly have been

sunk.

 

Not more than one man out of a hundred would have brought a boat through

as Steele did that night,—the other ninety-nine would have run her

ashore.

 

After this exciting run-in our first business was to repair damages and