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'oeuvre" 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.

Having no books on board, we beguiled the time occasionally by telling stories as we lay under the shelter of the deck awning. One of my contributions was the following: Many officers of the navy will remember it, and there are some who, like myself, will recollect the solemn earnestness with which the hero of it would narrate the facts, for he firmly believed it to the day of his death. At the time of its occurrence he was enjoying a day's shooting at his home in Vermont. Becoming tired toward midday he took a seat on an old log in the woods. A few minutes afterwards, he saw an old bareheaded man, meanly clad, approaching, who seated himself in silence at the other end of the log. The head of the stranger was bound with a white cloth and his eyes were fixed with a glassy stare upon Major B., who felt his blood run cold at the singular apparition. At last the Major mustered up courage to ask the stranger what he wanted. The spectre replied "I am a dead man, and was buried in the graveyard yonder" (pointing as he spoke to a dilapidated enclosure a few yards distant). "The dogs," he continued, "have found their way into my shallow grave, and are gnawing my flesh. I can not rest until I am laid deeper in the ground." The Major used to assert that his tongue clove to the roof of his mouth; but he managed to promise the dead man that his wishes should be complied with, when the apparition dissolved into the air. The Major went straight to some of the neighbors, and when he accompanied them to the grave, it was found in the condition described by its occupant. N. B. The Major was in the habit of carrying a "pocket pistol," which may have been overcharged upon this occasion; he also belonged to the marines.

We arrived at Cardenas after a week's voyage, and stopped there a day to recruit. During our stay we witnessed a curious scene. While we were enjoying our cigars in the cool of the evening upon the "azotea" of our hotel, we saw a file of soldiers march up to a house directly opposite, and after repeated efforts to enter, they finally burst open the door; reappearing in a few moments with seven or eight "coolies," who were apparently dead drunk, but in reality were stupefied with opium; having met, by appointment, to "shuffle off this mortal coil" after this characteristic fashion. One or two of them were quite beyond resuscitation, and the others were only prevented from sinking into fatal insensibility by severe flogging with bamboo canes, and being forced to keep upon their feet. We were informed that suicide is very common among them in Cuba; it being their last resort against misery and oppression. Colonel Totten, the able civil engineer who constructed the railroad across the Isthmus of Panama, once gave a party of us a graphic account of the mortality among a number of them, who had been employed by him in that pestilential climate. Having no access to opium, and being deprived of knives, they resorted to the most ingenious modes of self destruction. Sometimes they would wade out in the bay at low water, with a pole, which they would stick firmly into the mud, and securely tying themselves to it, would wait for the rising tide to drown them. Others would point a stake by charring it in the fire and impale themselves upon it.

The evils of this system of labor cannot be truthfully denied. Ignorant even of the nature of the contract which binds them to servitude, the coolies are driven in crowds to the ship which is to transport them to another hemisphere; and they endure all the horrors of the "middle passage" during their long voyage.

When they arrive at their port of destination in the West Indies they are apprenticed for a term of years to the planters who need their services, and many of them succumb to the tropical climate and the severe labor in the cane field. Many more seek a ready means of escape in death. The philanthropy of the civilized governments, which has been concentrated for many years upon efforts to liberate the "black man and brother," has never been exerted to rescue "John China-man" from a crueler thraldom and a harder lot.

Taking the train for Havana, we passed through a very beautiful country, luxuriant with tropical verdure; the most conspicuous natural feature in the landscape being the graceful palm tree in its many varieties. We passed, too, many sugar plantations, the growing cane not at all unlike our own cornfields at home, while the long lines of negroes, at work with their hoes, in the crop, made the fields appear even more familiar and home-like. Our friends, the "darkies," evidently did not contemplate suicide. Sleek and well-fed, they were chattering like so many flocks of blackbirds.

Arriving at Havana we took up our quarters at Mrs. B.'s hotel, and as my first object was to find Colonel Helm, the agent of the Confederate Government, I started for that purpose immediately after our arrival. The Colonel had held the position of United States Consul before the war; and the residence then occupied by him was now tenanted by his successor. Being directed to this house by mistake, I was ushered in by the servant, and found myself face to face with Captain S., the American Consul. We were not totally unacquainted, having met occasionally in bygone days, when both of us were in the United States Navy. The surprise was mutual, and the awkward silence was interrupted by my saying "Apparently I am in the wrong pew." "Evidently," he replied, and we parted without another word.

With the assistance of Colonel Helm our business in Havana was speedily transacted; and passage was engaged for the whole party on board a Spanish steamer bound for St. Thomas, thence to take passage by the British mail steamer for Southampton.

The few days spent in Havana were pleasantly passed in sight-seeing; the afternoons being devoted to a ride upon the "paseo," and the evenings closed by a visit to the noted "Dominica" the principal cafÉ of the city. There are many beautiful rides and drives in the environs, and the summer heats are tempered by the cool refreshing sea breeze which blows daily. That scourge of the tropics, yellow fever, is chiefly confined to the cities of Cuba, the country being salubrious; and it appears strange that this beautiful island has never been a favorite place of resort, during the winter, for invalids from the Northern States in search of an equable climate. It must be confessed that Havana itself possesses few attractions for the stranger and that its sanitary arrangements are execrable. In addition to the imperfect municipal regulations in this respect, all the sewage of the city empties itself into the harbor, in which there is no current to sweep the decomposing matter into the Gulf Stream outside. The water in the harbor is sometimes so phosphorescent at night that showers of liquid fire appear to drop from a boat's oars passing through it; and the boat leaves a long lane of light in her wake.

No stranger visiting Havana fails to see the spot in the cathedral held sacred as the tomb of Columbus. His remains were transferred here with great pomp, after resting many years in the city of San Domingo, whither they had been carried from Spain.

The fish market and the "Tacon" theatre too, are well worth a visit. Both of them once belonged to the same individual, the noted pirate "Marti," whom I have seen many a time, in the streets of Havana, after his reformation. He was then a venerable looking old gentleman

For a long time he had been chief of all the piratical bands that then infested the shores of Cuba. They plied their fearful trade with comparative impunity; the numerous lagoons on the coast, only accessible through tortuous and shallow channels, and hidden by mangrove bushes, affording safe shelter; while they could easily intercept many vessels passing through the narrow strait separating Cuba from Florida. They gave no quarter to man, woman, or child, and scuttled their prizes after taking from them what was most valuable. A ready sale was found for their plunder in Havana through accomplices there; and their depredations upon commerce finally became so extensive that the United States Government fitted out an expedition against them. General Tacon, at that time Governor-General of Cuba, also prepared an expedition to operate against them. This fleet was on the eve of sailing. The night was dark and rainy. A stranger, wrapped in a cloak for disguise, watched the sentry on duty before the door of the palace from a hiding place near by; and as the sentry turned his back for a moment or two from the door, the stranger slipped by him, undiscovered, and proceeded rapidly to the apartments of the Captain-General. His excellency was writing at a table; and the stranger had opened the door and entered the room without being discovered. When the Governor-General raised his eyes and saw the cloaked figure standing silently before him, he stretched his hand toward a bell near him, but the stranger interposed. "Stop, your Excellency," he said, "I am here upon a desperate enterprise. I have come to deliver into your hands every pirate on the Cuban coast upon one condition; a pardon for myself." "You shall have it," replied his excellency, "but who are you?" "I am Marti, and I rely upon the promise you have given to me." The Governor-General repeated his assurances of immunity upon the prescribed conditions. Marti had laid his plans well, having appointed a place of rendezvous for the different bands before venturing upon his perilous expedition. He acted as a guide to the force sent in pursuit, and every pirate was captured and afterwards "garroted." A large price had been set upon the head of Marti. This is the story as told by his contemporaries. For these distinguished services to the State the vile old reprobate was offered the promised reward. In lieu of it he asked for the monopoly of the sale of fish in Havana, which was granted to him; and the structure erected by him for a fish market is perhaps the finest of the sort in the world. He afterwards built the noble "Tacon" theatre, named after his benefactor,—and died in the odor of sanctity.

We were not sorry when the day of our departure came. There was a motley crowd of passengers on board the little steamer. "Paisanos" wearing broad brimmed sombreroes and in picturesque costume; "Padres" in their long gowns and shovel hats; pretty "senoritas" with hair plaited down their backs, and officers on their way to join the army in the field in San Domingo. But every one was amiable and disposed to be companionable. Most of them were aware of the fact that there was a state of war between the North and the South; and their sympathies were altogether with our side; for no earthly reason, probably, except that they entertained the blind hatred against the "Norte Americanos" so prevalent among the Latin race on this continent, and supposed the people of the South to be of different origin.[8]

We were half poisoned, and wholly saturated with garlic, while on board the little steamer; and men, women and children smoked incessantly. Our clever artist, Johnny T., drew a capital sketch of a portly old lady whose habit it was, after every meal, to take from her side pocket an oil skin bundle of huge cigars—evidently "plantations," and made to order. Selecting one, she would strike a light with her "matchero" and begin to puff away like a furnace. When fairly alight, she would dispose of the smoke in some mysterious inner receptacle, whence it would issue in a minute or more, from nose, eyes, ears, and even through the pores of her mahogany-colored skin, as it appeared to us.

We touched at many little ports, all of them very pretty and picturesque; little quiet basins of blue water, with the houses scattered about along the hill sides, and half hidden by foliage; the white surf thundering outside, and the surface, inside, glassy smooth. Our last port in Cuba was Santiago, since made memorable as the scene of the murder of the gallant and unfortunate Fry, and his companions in misfortune. Should these lines ever meet the eye of any of his old friends and comrades in the United States Navy, they will bear witness, that a brave and noble gentleman was there cruelly done to death. He had lost everything by our war, and dire poverty, with the responsibility of a family to support, forced him to the desperate venture of running the blockade in Cuba. Morally he was not more criminal than the British naval officers, who engaged in the same hazardous pursuit during our struggle.