RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL REEFER 
 
JAMES MORRIS MORGAN 
 
RECOLLECTIONS OF A 
 REBEL REEFER 
 
 BY 
 
 JAMES MORRIS MORGAN 
 
 With Illustrations 
 
 BOSTON AND NEW YORK 
 
 HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY 
 
 (tide Wattiibz T^xtii <ramlicitige 
 
 1917 
 
•/!'';■ 6 
 
 'H' 
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1917, BY JAMES MORRIS MORGAN 
 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED 
 
 Published April iqij 
 
 APR 16 1317 
 
 ©Gi.A45798e 
 
TO 
 
 MY BELOVED WIFE 
 FRANCES F. MORGAN 
 
 BUT FOR WHOSE DEVOTION AND TENDER NURSING OF ME 
 
 THROUGH WEARY YEARS OF ILL HEALTH THESE 
 
 "RECOLLECTIONS " 
 
 WOULD NEVER HAVE BEEN 
 
 WRITTEN 
 
PREFACE 
 
 Said a writer in Blackwood's Magazine many years ago : 
 "None but kings and egoists are fit to indite the record of 
 their lives. The king knows himself to be the first of his 
 world, and what to the king is knowledge is to the egoist 
 a confident belief. Pride, then, personal and overwhelming, 
 is essential to the perfect autobiography; and if the pride 
 be simple enough, we may perhaps dispense with the other 
 great quality — self-knowledge. For though it obscure 
 reality, pride can create a phantom at once improving and 
 consistent. Nequidquam sapit qui sibi non sapit, wrote 
 Cicero." 
 
 The following account of some of my experiences in life 
 will have at lea^t the merit of simplicity, and, the story being 
 about myself, I ask indulgence for its unavoidable egotism. 
 
 It has been said that "adventures come only to him who 
 seeks them," but I am doubtful of the correctness of this 
 adage, for I can truthfully say that I had as little to do 
 with the shaping of my course in life as has an empty bottle 
 thrown overboard in mid-ocean. I spent the most impor- 
 tant years of a boy's life, those between fifteen and nine- 
 teen, so far as education and the formation of character 
 are concerned, tied to a sword and in the midst of a most 
 cruel war, and when peace came I was wafted hither and 
 thither, the sport of the fickle winds of varying fortune; and, 
 having "sailed 'neath alien skies and trod the desert path," 
 naturally I imagine that I have met with some adventures 
 out of the usual run of the average schoolboy's experiences, 
 and if I have written some of them down, it has been with 
 the laudable desire of amusing other people rather than 
 personal vanity or desire for notoriety. 
 
 Its novelty is another excuse for this volume. The 
 shelves of Hbraries are filled with "Recollections," "Remi- 
 
Vlll 
 
 PREFACE 
 
 niscences," and "Services Afloat," written by admirals, but 
 who ever before saw the memoirs of a "Reefer," unless it 
 was those of "Mr. Midshipman Easy," and he, being a 
 mythical person, of course did not write them himself. I 
 make no apology for its many faults and shortcomings, 
 for were it told in a scholarly manner and in the rounded 
 periods and faultless language of a Macaulay, it would not 
 be the story of a midshipman who had few opportunities of 
 acquiring an education, and neglected the few which came 
 in his way, as the story will make apparent to the dullest 
 landlubber. 
 
 If I have omitted to mention one or two afifairs of honor 
 in which I took part, either as principal or second, I trust 
 that my not doing so will not be regarded as evidence that 
 I have any doubt as to the correctness of my attitude on 
 those occasions. I do not mention them because I have 
 passed the threescore years and ten and do not wish to 
 offend the sensibilities of the living, or to reawaken old 
 feuds in a State where one of my daughters and my grand- 
 children live. 
 
 If I mention an unfortunate shooting affair which oc- 
 curred in Columbia, South Carolina, it is because the bloody 
 tragedy became a matter of record in the courts. Other 
 personal encounters are recounted because they had an 
 amusing side to them. 
 
 J. M. M. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 Childhood — "Billy Bowlegs" — The Choctaws — Blowing up'and 
 burning of the steamboat Princess — Charloe and Katish — 
 Throwing the lasso — Buck-jumpers i 
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 Unlucky in love — The home of a Louisiana aristocrat — Hospitality 
 and lengthy visits — The sugar-house — Appointed a midship- 
 man — The only Southern man who could not whip ten Yankees 
 — Religious mania — Fortress Monroe — Mexican pulque . . II 
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 Annapolis — "Old Ironsides" — The habit of command — Show 
 remarkable leniency toward the midshipman's hereditary ene- 
 mies, the commandant and lieutenants — The " Brood of the 
 Constitution" — "Bill Pip," our first hero — Other heroes — 
 Skating on thin ice — The bilged — Secession . . . . .21 
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 Out of the United States Navy — Complete disguise — Captain 
 Maynadier, U.S.A. — Passing through the Union and Confed- 
 erate lines — Senator Wigfall and President Andrew Johnson — 
 Montgomery, Alabama — President Jefferson Davis and Judah 
 P. Benjamin — Tender services and sword to the Confederacy — 
 Declined with thanks — The "Marseillaise" 34 
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 Arrive in New Orleans — Brother Harry killed next morning in a duel 
 
 — Home-coming in Baton Rouge 41 
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 Volunteers — Lonely — Captain Booth, late U.S.A., finds use for me 
 
 — Pensacola — " Give them a little more grape, Captain Bragg " 44 
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 The sloop-of-war McRae arrives at Baton Rouge — Receive warrant 
 as a midshipman and ordered to the McRae — Fail to get through 
 the blockade — Attack on Federal fleet at the Head of the Passes 
 
X Contents 
 
 — Heroes until a newspaper "Mahan" discovered that we ought 
 to have towed the whole Federal fleet up to New Orleans in 
 triumph 51 
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 The McRae made flagship of the Mississippi flotilla — Commodore 
 Hollins — Appointed aide-de-camp to the commodore — Island 
 No. 10 — New Madrid — The Swamp Fox of Missouri — 
 Masked batteries — Wanted to challenge a major — U.S. iron- 
 clads pass Island No. 10 — Stung — New Madrid and Island No. 
 10 evacuated — "Savez" Read administers a lesson in discipline 
 to the volunteers — Gunboats pretty badly cut up by shore bat- 
 teries — Go back to New Orleans — Fort Jackson under heavy 
 bombardment from Porter's mortar fleet — Commodore Hollins 
 relieved from his command — Farragut passes the forts — Death 
 of Captain Huger and sinking of the McRae 60 
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 Farragut's fleet at New Orleans — Mob threatens to kill his officers 
 who demand the surrender of the city — Farragut threatens to 
 destroy the city if a hair of their heads is hurt — Pierre Soul6's 
 hypnotic fore-finger saves the critical situation — I take to the 
 swamp — The " Irreconcilable Home Guard" — Reach General 
 Lovell's camp at Amite — Reach Norfolk in time for the evacua- 
 tion — Richmond — The battle between the U.S. Ironclads 
 Galena, Monitor, and Naugatuck and Drewry's Bluff batteries — 
 Battle of Seven Pines (Fair Oaks) — Seven Days' Battle . . 75 
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 Charleston — Commodore Ingraham — CS. Ironclad Chicora — 
 The looting of my home in Baton Rouge — George Hollins dies of 
 yellow fever — The Honorable George A. Trenholm — Naval 
 officers "never unbutton their coats" — Ordered abroad . . 89 
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 Run through the U.S. blockading fleet — Out of our reckoning — Ber- 
 muda — Blockade-runners throw money into the street — Com- 
 modore Wilkes's famous ship San Jacinto gives us a scare — Hali- 
 fax — Sail for England in company with some of Her Majesty's 
 Life Guardsmen 98 
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 Liverpool — London — Visit " Hill Morton," near Rugby — Ordered 
 to the C.S.S. Alexandra — Snubbed — Ordered to Paris — Or- 
 dered to London — Birthday properly celebrated — Damn the 
 
Contents xi 
 
 Marquis of Westminster and lose my only friend — Meet several 
 Mr. Grigsons I06 
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 White Haven — The active tug Alar — Meet the Japan, which turns 
 out to be the Confederate cruiser Georgia — Ushant Island — 
 Break neutrality laws, and away to sea — Hoist Confederate 
 flag, but don't use it much — Capture our first prize, the clipper 
 ship Dictator — Treatment of prisoners — Cape Verde Islands 
 
 — Narrow escape from U.S.S. Mohican — Crew of Dictator ship 
 with us — Chasing ships II3 
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 The Doldrums — Water-spouts — Bahia — Meet the Alabama — 
 Changing of the Confederate flag — Corsairos — Brazilian ball 
 
 — Midshipman Anderson makes a pillow out of Captain Semmes 
 
 — U.S.S. Niagara and Mohican on our trail — " Does he want 
 his pretty paint spoiled?" — Refused permission to depart after 
 
 4 P.M. — Brazilian battery lires one shot as we pass out . . . 1 24 
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 "Tempest in a teapot" — Capture clipper ship George Griswold of 
 New York — Burn bark Good Hope of Boston — Funeral at sea 
 
 — Bark Seaver goes to assistance of the Good Hope and is cap- 
 tured — Transfer prisoners to the Seaver 133 
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 
 Barren island of Trinidad — The natural monument — Surf five hun- 
 dred feet high — Battle in the air between frigate bird and sailor 
 lad — Capture of splendid ship Constitution loaded with coal and 
 missionaries — Georgia, by mistake, fires into the Constitution 
 
 — Capture of ship City of Bath — Despoiled of $16,000 of our 
 hard-earned wealth by trick of skipper's wife — Learn of the 
 death of "Stonewall" Jackson — The Cape of Good Hope . . 140 
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 
 Simon's Town — The Alabama had just sailed from the port — Two 
 of the Georgia's engineers, the boatswain, gunner, and several 
 seamen get "cold feet" and leave us — Our first lieutenant, Mr. 
 Chapman, ordered to Europe — Visit the city of Cape Town — 
 Skippers of burned ships not friendly and disposed to start a 
 rough-house — H. M. troopship Himalaya — "Dixie" — Excit- 
 ing experience with Malay fishermen — Albatross and Cape 
 pigeons — Meet the tea fleet — Also the U.S.S. Vanderbilt — 
 Myriads of fish follow the Georgia making the ocean at night 
 appear to be in flames 147 
 
xii Contents 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 The prize Bold Hunter, abandoned and on fire, runs down and seri- 
 ously damages the Georgia — Mirage at night — Peak of Tene- 
 riffe — Santa Cruz — Battle with a Frenchman — Rescue French 
 brig Diligente — Captain Maury ill — Sailors get at the spirit- 
 room — Mutiny 156 
 
 CHAPTER XIX 
 
 Cherbourg — Letters from home tell of the deaths of my two brothers, 
 captains in Stonewall Jackson's corps — French fleet arrives to 
 keep us in order — Great storm and loss of flagship's launch and 
 crew — Impressive military pageant at funeral — Captain Maury 
 relieved from the command of the Georgia. The C.S.S. Rappa- 
 hannock — Kearsarge and Tuscarora waiting for us outside . .165 
 
 CHAPTER XX 
 
 Leave Cherbourg — Storm off Cape Trafalgar — Coast of Morocco — 
 Anchor in the open sea near the Great Desert — Caravans — 
 Moors bring fish — Ancient Moor swims to the ship — We return 
 visits and are kicked into the sea — We bombard the troglodytes 
 
 — Give up hope that the Rappahannock will meet us — Weigh 
 anchor and have a narrow escape from shipwreck and falling into 
 the hands of the Moors 172 
 
 CHAPTER XXI 
 
 Bordeaux — U.S.S. Niagara and Sacramento wait outside for us — 
 Two fine sloops-of-war intended for the Confederacy lay near, but 
 beyond our reach — Escape from the United States men-of-war 
 
 — Liverpool — A hero at last — Georgia put out of commission 
 
 — Georgia captured by U.S.S. Niagara — Last of the Georgia — 
 Men-of-war, privateers, and pirates 180 
 
 CHAPTER XXII 
 
 Paris — Alabama sunk by Kearsarge — Havre — Southampton — 
 Ordered to return to the Confederacy — Halifax — Sail for Ber- 
 muda and passengers mistake us for pirates — St. George's, 
 Bermuda — Take passage in the blockade-runner Lillian — 
 Chased by U.S.S. Shenandoah and have narrow escape running 
 through iDlockading fleet off Wilmington 187 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII 
 
 Shells dropping in the grass-grown streets of Charleston, South Caro- 
 lina — Mr. Trenholm is Secretary of the Confederate Treasury — 
 Columbia — Mr. Trenholm's beautiful villa — Go to Richmond 
 and ask the millionaire Secretary for the hand of his daughter — 
 Mrs. Trenholm calls on Mrs. (?) Stephens 197 
 
Contents xiii 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV 
 
 "Pride goeth before a fall" — Humiliated and sent to school — A 
 realistic war college — Call a commander " My man," and order 
 him forward — Assault on Fort Harrison — General Lee appears 
 on the battle-field — Repulsed — I prove to be something of a 
 sprinter 204 
 
 CHAPTER XXV 
 
 I finally become a passed midshipman — Battery Semmes ' — The 
 Dutch Gap Canal — Mortar pits and rifle pits — The lookout 
 tower — Trading with the enemy — Pickett's famous division 
 charges a rabbit — A shell from a monitor destroys my log hut — 
 Good marksmanship — An unexploded shell — General Lee in- 
 spects battery — Costly result of order to "give him a shot in 
 fifteen minutes" — Demonstration against City Point — Confed- 
 erate ironclads badly hammered — "Savez" Read cuts boom 
 across the river — A thunderous night 212 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI 
 
 The Confederate "White House" — President Davis gives an im- 
 promptu lecture on bridle bits — Letter of Mrs. Jefferson Davis 
 denying truth of anecdote relating to President Buchanan, Mrs. 
 Joseph E, Johnston, and herself — The Southern soldiers and 
 girls dance, flirt, and marry, oblivious of the signs that the "de- 
 bacle" draws near 220 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII 
 
 Ordered to accompany Mrs. Davis and party south — No Pullman 
 cars in those days — President Davis bids his family good-bye — 
 Insolent deserters insult Mrs. Davis at Charlotte, North Caro- 
 lina — A Hebrew gentleman gives her shelter — Midshipmen 
 guarding the Confederacy's gold escort her to Abbeville, South 
 Carolina — President Davis and his Cabinet at Abbeville . . 228 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII 
 
 President Davis departs from Abbeville — I carry communication to 
 General Fry at Augusta, Georgia — United States troops occupy 
 Abbeville. We bury the silver chests — Paroled at Washington, 
 Georgia — Accompany Mr. Trenholm to Columbia, where he 
 buys a home — Mr. Wagner, of Eraser, Trenholm & Co., pays to 
 avoid arrest in Charleston, and Mr. Trenholm is arrested in Co- 
 lumbia — Placed in the common jail — Mrs. King hides the gold 
 under the Federal commander's nose — General Gillmore, U.S.A., 
 treats Mr. Trenholm magnanimously 238 
 
xiv Contents 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX 
 
 Mr. Trenholm and others of Mr. Davis's Cabinet imprisoned in Fort 
 Pulaski — I make a hurried trip to New Orleans to engage coun- 
 sel — I get married — Study (?) law — General Daniel E. Sickles 
 orders Mr. Trenholm's home returned to him — I become a 
 widower — Yellow fever saves me from being on board of the 
 fated Evening Star 253 
 
 CHAPTER XXX 
 
 Try cotton-planting with the usual sailor's success — Better success 
 following the hounds — Charles Astor Bristed ; " Man is a gregari- 
 ous animal" — Drayton Hall — Discovery of the phosphate 
 rocks — Visit Philadelphia — Go on the New York Yacht Club 
 cruise — General McClellan — General W. S. Hancock views 
 the yacht race 259 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI 
 
 Receive a commission as captain in the Egyptian Army — Hurried 
 trip to Egypt with nineteen other ex-Union and Confederate 
 officers — Alexandria — Call an Oriental blufif — Cause small 
 panic in hotel by opening windows during the "kempsine" — In 
 uniform — Presented to the Khedive — American officers in 
 Khedive's army — Letters of President Davis and General R. E. 
 Lee 266 
 
 CHAPTER XXXII 
 
 The Egyptian Army — Eunuchs important beings — Polyglots — 
 Anecdote (from court gossip) about the two Schnieders — Ad- 
 venturesses — The permanent Secretary — The bounding horse 
 Napoleon — Did n't cut His Highness — Napoleon gets me in and 
 out of trouble about being too fresh with a Princess, a flower, and 
 a dainty lace handkerchief — The Khedive orders a wedding to 
 amuse the Empress Eugenie — Divorce — Harems (pronounced 
 hareems) 274 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII 
 
 Egyptian Army splendidly drilled in manual of arms and tactics — 
 American officers dine with the EfTendina — Sham battle — 
 Napoleon disgraces me — Feast of the Dosse — Marriage of the 
 Nile — Oflfend Arabi Bey and am sent to Rosetta — Sailing on 
 the great canal — Rosetta — A deserted palace — See ghosts 
 which turn out to be lepers — Accept hospitality of an Armenian 
 — Commander of garrison not overjoyed to see me . . . . 287 
 
Contents xv 
 
 chapter xxxiv 
 
 Khedive always just to the American officers, but it was difficult to 
 obtain an audience with him — Go to Alexandria with General 
 Loring and occupy a royal palace — Difficult to get paid — Row 
 with customs officials — An Egyptian military banquet — I have 
 not rank enough to entitle me to a seat at the table — Cabal 
 formed against General Stone — I am sent to the staff of Ratib 
 Pasha, commander-in-chief of the Egyptian Army .... 296 
 
 CHAPTER XXXV 
 
 Ratib Pasha — Attempted suicide gained him promotion — Ratib is " 
 presented to a pretty soubrette, and calls on her accompanied 
 by his staff — The commander-in-chief is peeved — The Abys- 
 sinian campaign — Ratib Pasha the only court favorite faithful 
 to the Khedive Ismail in the hour of humiliation and sorrow — 
 The Duke of Hamilton, General Mott, and the duel that did 
 not come off 301 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVI 
 
 The Franco-Prussian War — Apply for leave to go to France — 
 Wrecked — Paris in sackcloth and ashes — A generous Jew . . 310 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVII 
 
 Return to America — Tired of the Egyptian service, but the Khedive 
 declines to allow me to resign — Grants me a furlough with per- 
 mission to go home — Determine again to become a farmer — 
 "Woe to them that go down to Egypt for help; and stay on 
 horses" — Columbia, South Carolina — Become lord and master 
 of the great Hampton plantation — A bachelor's menage and 
 appetite — A lively fox hunt in which the wily Carpetbag Gov- 
 ernment is run to cover — Matches cost only five cents a box — 
 Trial Justice Sam Thompson -SiS 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVIII 
 
 The name Galapagos inspires the preacher — I take Northern friends 
 to a prayer meeting — "Getting glory" — A chicken thief and a 
 bulldog get hitched together — Death of Hector as a consequence 
 — The preponderance of the evidence — Ball toilets in the middle 
 of the day and champagne orgies on the main street — The 
 comptroller of the State opens fire on the house of Colonel Black, 
 U.S.A., the commandant — Moses, promised immunity, gives 
 testimony in the fraudulent bonds case — Questions of personal 
 privilege — Nancy Eliot 323 
 
xvi Contents 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIX 
 
 Corrupt judiciary — Melton voted for Seymour and Blair, but bet his 
 money on Grant — Feud between Attorney-General Melton and 
 Colonel Montgomery in which Mr. Caldwell was killed and I was 
 wounded 332 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 Cotton-picking by moonlight — Swindled by a carpetbagger out of 
 my hay crop — Legislative debates — Confiscation by taxation 
 
 — Poverty no bar to marrying and giving in marriage — Hound 
 dog gives the alarm and saves my family from death when house 
 catches fire — Pay taxes in a novel way, and sell Hampton plan- 
 tation — Move to Charleston 340 
 
 CHAPTER XLI 
 
 Friendly shooting-match — Dancing the "Too Ral Loo" — Negro 
 mobs — Dawson wounded — U.S. Regulars attacked with 
 stones — General Hunt, U.S.A., takes command of the rifle clubs 
 
 — This action costs General Hunt his promotion on retirement — 
 Feud between Governor Chamberlain and Captain Bowen, the 
 sheriff of Charleston County 348 
 
 CHAPTER XLH 
 
 Captain Dawson, editor of the "Charleston News and Courier," de- 
 nounces Bowen as the assassin of Colonel White — Bowen brings 
 libel suit — Eli Grimes, the actual murderer, located — I go to 
 Leesville and bring Grimes to Charleston to testify — Grimes 
 attempts to kill himself — Grimes's sensational testimony — 
 Mistrial 353 
 
 CHAPTER XLH I 
 
 Exciting political campaign of 1875 — I return to Columbia — The 
 dual legislature — Hamilton, negro member of the legislature, 
 makes a Democratic speech — The military evict the Democrats 
 from the capitol 360 
 
 CHAPTER XLIV 
 
 General M. C. Butler elected U.S. Senator by Democratic legislature 
 
 — Carpetbag conspiracy against Butler proves a fiasco — Don 
 Cameron, to the amazement of the country, forces the seating of 
 Butler in the U.S. Senate — Senator Blaine traps Senator Vance 
 who was fond of practical jokes — Astonishing clash between 
 Senators Bayard and Blaine — Visit of a Senate Committee to 
 the Indian Territory — Attempt to give a scolding to Chief 
 
Contents' xvii 
 
 Joseph, of the Nez Percys Indians, and the result — The moun- 
 tain would not come to Mohammed, so Mohammed had to go to 
 the mountain — Joseph turns the tables on the Senators and ad- 
 ministers a stinging tongue-lashing — We leave Joseph, but do 
 not feel very proud of ourselves 370 
 
 CHAPTER XLV 
 
 " Fighting Bob " Evans gets me employment with Governor Alexander 
 R. Shepherd and I go to Mexico — My brother, P. H. Morgan, 
 is appointed U.S. Minister to Mexico — San Antonio, Texas, 
 where we buy a herd of unbroken mules — The Canon de las 
 Iglesias — Dangers of the mountain trail — Batopilas — The 
 San Miguel silver mine — Governor Shepherd as an executive — 
 A law unto himself, he wins the favor of Porfiirio Diaz — In 
 Bonanza — My conducta carries a hundred and forty thousand 
 dollars in silver bars to Chihuahua — Instinct of the mountain 
 mule — Beware of the polite Mexican — Narrow escape from fall- 
 ing into the hands of Victoria, the Apache Chief — The mountain 
 trail strewn with silver bars 383 
 
 CHAPTER XLVI 
 
 Resign position as chief of conductas and start for home via Mazatlan 
 and San Francisco — Alamos — Witness marriage between 
 a Mexican girl and a German — New York — A dress-suit my 
 chief asset — Return to Mexico and become a civil engineer (?) — 
 Primitive coaching — Queretaro and its opal mines . . '. 395 
 
 CHAPTER XLVII 
 
 Leon, the city whose sole industry is the carving of leather and making 
 of saddles — Running trial lines on the gallop — La Piedad — 
 Did n't flop quick enough and got stoned — The brave peccary 
 
 — The strangler tree — The tree that bleeds blood — Come 
 upon a murdered man lying on the road — The volcano of Colima 
 
 — General Grant only likes rebels who fought — Mr. Gilmore 
 comes near losing his life in the Jule River — Return to the 
 States to finance a silver mine 401 
 
 CHAPTER XLVIII 
 
 Return to Tampico and get shipwrecked on the bar — A squaw man 
 who was a quack doctor — Find a lake of asphalt and strike oil — 
 A precarious ferry — 111 with fever and receive a matrimonial 
 proposal 410 
 
 CHAPTER XLIX 
 
 Not even any money in oil, when I am interested — President Gon- 
 zalez and General Porfirio Diaz — Collapse of oil scheme — En- 
 
xvlii Contents 
 
 counter General Charles P. Stone by accident and get employ- 
 ment — The Statue of Liberty — Swept to sea by harbor ice — 
 Meet an old foe — Laying a corner-stone — General Winfield S. 
 Hancock — Lecture my superior officer — I am appointed Con- 
 sul-General to Australasia 418 
 
 CHAPTER L 
 
 My appointment as consul-general arouses great indignation among 
 Southern office-seekers — Mr. Cleveland said he never would 
 have appointed me had he known I was a "pirate" — Torpedo, 
 in the shape of a pamphlet, comes near blowing up my prospects 
 
 — Mr. Secretary Bayard gets angry — Mr. Cleveland brushes 
 the matter aside and wishes me bon voyage — Get married and 
 start for San Francisco — Mr. Bayard recalls me to Washington 
 by telegram — I sail for Australia — Seventh-Day Adventists 
 indignant when Captain skips Saturday at the one hundred and 
 eightieth meridian 424 
 
 CHAPTER LI 
 
 Sydney's beautiful harbor — The authorities compliment me by giv- 
 ing me a private compartment for the journey to Melbourne and 
 I am surprised to find myself a prisoner therein — Beautiful 
 Melbourne and its suburbs — Sir Henry Loch, the Governor of 
 Victoria — My wife suddenly ennobled — Singular coincidence 
 of meeting a gentleman who had been a passenger on a ship we 
 had stopped on the high seas twenty-two years previously — 
 Wonderful Australian horsemanship 431 
 
 CHAPTER LII 
 
 Impecunious globe-trotters — Consular courts — Become skipper of 
 a water-logged bark against my wishes — A captain claims a 
 dollar a day for tuition in the culinary art — For obeying my 
 instructions an Australian court mulcts me for five hundred dol- 
 lars, holding that despite my exequatur I am only a commercial 
 agent — Grocer's assistant gets quite a large fortune — Many 
 supposed dead men live in the South Sea Islands — "Black- 
 birders" 438 
 
 CHAPTER LIII 
 
 Vast estates — Australian hospitality — Kangaroo hunting — The 
 dingo — Rabbits in myriads — Aborigines — Marriage customs 
 
 — Black trackers — Black swans — No songbirds, but many 
 curious birds — The "laughing jackass" always gets a laugh 
 when he tells a funny story — The "Ornithoryncus" . . . 445 
 
Contents xix 
 
 CHAPTER LIV 
 
 Sir Henry Loch gives a fancy-dress ball in honor of the Queen's Jubilee 
 
 — The Melbourne Exhibition — Return to America via Suez 
 Canal — Visit to the "Isle of France" (Mauritius) — Paul and 
 Virginia must have sat down hard — Return to Melbourne — 
 Secretary of State appoints a naval officer to take charge of ap- 
 propriation for American exhibit — First World's Fair Commis- 
 sion ever to turn back a balance into the Treasury — Receive a 
 medal — Leave Australia — Authorize captain of the Mariposa 
 
 to return to Sydney — Samoans as swimmers — Resign . . . 453 
 
 CHAPTER LV 
 
 *' Cqdarcroft" — Death of Captain Dawson — Ten years on a farm — 
 
 Vagaries of the genus horse — Australian fox terriers . . . 459 
 
 CHAPTER LVI 
 
 Visit Mrs. Jefferson Davis in New York — Accompany Mrs. Davis to 
 Richmond — Unveiling of the memorial window to Mr. Davis — 
 Make the oration at the unveiling of the statuette to Mr. Davis 
 in the Confederate Museum — The old Confederate "White 
 House" — Present my sword and letters from President Davis 
 and General Lee to the Museum — Letter from Mrs. Davis on 
 the subject of Prince Polignac's canard about his mission to 
 France for the purpose of selling the State of Louisiana . . 463 
 
 CHAPTER LVn 
 
 The hero of Manila Bay — Distinguished dead who were my friends 
 
 — Some learned societies which have honored me — "Peace at 
 any price" 468 
 
 CHAPTER LVni 
 
 The "birth of a nation" — Assistant manager of the Washington 
 branch of the International Banking Corporation — Extracts 
 from a diary kept on a journey to Panama — Meet my old class- 
 mates Admirals Coghlan and Glass, of the "Brood of the Consti- 
 tution" — My old hulk is laid up in ordinary waiting to be 
 scrapped 474 
 
 INDEX 483 
 
ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 James Morris Morgan Frontispiece ^ 
 
 Midshipman James Morris Morgan, C.S.N., at the Age of 
 
 Fifteen 52 '^ 
 
 U.S. Sloop-of-War Richmond, of Farragut's Fleet . . .56" 
 
 From a drawing made at the Philadelphia Navy Yard in 1872 
 
 C.S. Ram Manassas, which rammed the Richmond . . .56 
 
 From a drawing by R. G. Skerrelt 
 
 C.S.S. McRae, Commodore Hollins's Flagship, coaling at ^ 
 
 Baton Rouge, 1861 60 ' 
 
 U.S. Ironclad Galena 82 
 
 From a drawing by R. G. Skerrelt after photographs and official plans 
 
 C.S. Ironclad Chicora, on which the Author served at 
 Charleston 82 ' 
 
 From a drawing by R. G. Skerrelt 
 
 Hon. George A. Trenholm, Secretary of the C.S. Treasury 92'-^ 
 
 From a painting 
 
 Captain W. L. Maury, commanding the Georgia .... 114 v 
 
 From a contemporary photograph taken at Cherbourg 
 
 C.S. Cruiser Georgia 118 
 
 From a photograph taken at Cherbourg 
 
 Midshipman Morgan while attached to the Cruiser Georgia, 
 
 1863 126 
 
 Major W. P. A. Campbell, formerly of the C.S. Navy . .170 
 
 From a photograph taken in Cairo in 1870 
 
 C.S.S. Patrick Henry, Confederate Naval School Ship, on 
 the James River below Richmond, 1864 204 ' 
 
 From a painting by Clary-Ray 
 
 Colonel Beverly Kennon, Coast Defense, Egyptian Army . 208 
 
 From a photograph taken in Alexandria 
 
 Lieutenant-Colonel Morgan, of the Egyptian Army . . 266 
 
 From a photograph taken in Cairo in 1870 
 
 Napoleon, the Bounding Horse 278 
 
 General W. W. Loring 298 
 
 From a photograph taken in Cairo 
 
 Dr. M. Amador, First President of the Republic of Panama, 
 1903 476 
 
RECOLLECTIONS 
 OF A REBEL REEFER 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 Childhood — "Billy Bowlegs" — The Choctaws — Blowing up and burning 
 of the steamboat Princess — Charloe and Katish — Throwing the lasso — 
 Buck-jumpers. 
 
 Born in the city of New Orleans, Louisiana, in 1845, — 
 the youngest of nine children, — my parents indulged me 
 as only the youngest of a large family or an only child is 
 spoiled, and they were very ably assisted by my elder 
 brothers and sisters. My old black nurse, Katish, played 
 no unimportant r6le in the coddling process. 
 
 According to the family legends I commenced my ad- 
 ventures at an early age. When I could barely toddle I 
 strayed away from the house and was found stranded in 
 a gutter and brought home in a most sorry plight. In this 
 day, when it is considered the proper thing to boast of one's 
 lowly beginnings, that story ought at least to have secured 
 me a seat in the halls of Congress, but it did n't. Another 
 thriller told me of the adventures of my babyhood was 
 that once, when I was playing near a pond at Pascagoula, 
 a huge alligator was seen slowly creeping toward me when 
 my French governess rushed to the rescue and bravely 
 bore me out of danger. She was ever afterwards regarded 
 as a heroine. 
 
 When I was five years of age, my father. Judge Thomas 
 Gibbes Morgan, with his family returned to Baton Rouge, 
 where he had lived prior to his having been appointed Col- 
 lector of the Port of New Orleans. Baton Rouge at that 
 time was a pretty little town of some three thousand in- 
 
2 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 habitants. It is situated on the first high ground as one 
 ascends the river from the Gulf of Mexico. The bluff is at 
 least thirty feet high and before I commenced my travels 
 I thought that it must be the tallest hill in the world. 
 
 At that time there was a United States Arsenal and quite 
 a large garrison there, mostly composed of heroes who had 
 two or three years before that time conquered Mexico. I 
 loved the soldiers, and one of the officers. Lieutenant Drum, 
 afterwards adjutant-general of the United States Army for 
 many years, loved my eldest sister, so we got on famously 
 together. 
 
 General Zachary Taylor had a cottage in the garrison 
 grounds and his famous old war-horse "Whitey" had the 
 freedom of the beautiful grassy lawns, and the greatest de- 
 light of my life was to be placed on the gentle old charger's 
 back, without saddle or bridle, and sit there while "Old 
 Whitey" grazed, not paying as much attention to me as 
 he would have bestowed upon a fly. From that time until 
 I was fourteen my life was principally spent on horseback. 
 I mean by horseback, the backs of those savage little ponies 
 we called "mustangs" which existed in herds in a wild 
 state in that part of the country in those days. They be- 
 longed to the man who could first lasso and put his brand 
 upon them. These ponies were past-masters in the art of 
 bucking, and from their backs I have probably hit the 
 ground in a greater variety of ways than any other man 
 now living, but as my steeds had never been put through a 
 course of the haul ecole before I mounted them, my horse- 
 manship should not be judged by the number of croppers 
 I have come in my time. 
 
 There are certain events in a child's life which make an 
 impression that time itself cannot eft'ace. One of these is 
 so vivid that, after a lapse of sixty-five years, I can shut 
 my eyes and again see a crowd of men and women standing 
 on the river-bank wildly gesticulating and vowing that 
 they would be revenged upon a band of Seminole Indians 
 
Burning of the Steamboat Princess 3 
 
 who were being transported from Florida to the Indian 
 Territory. Their chief, the famously cruel "Billy Bow- 
 legs," was with them, and so violent were the people on 
 shore in their threats that the captain of the steamboat 
 did not dare to approach the shore. He was wise, as many 
 in that excitable crowd, myself among the number, had 
 had relatives cruelly tortured and murdered by these same 
 Indians in the Seminole War. My uncle, Bedford Morgan, 
 was one of their victims, having been scalped and his body 
 so horribly mutilated that it was only recognized by the 
 fact that his faithful dog stood guard over it. 
 
 In those days there were still Indians in Louisiana. A 
 band of "Choctaws" lived on the Amite River, a few miles 
 back of Baton Rouge, who used to bring into the town, for 
 sale or barter, their bead- and basket-work and blow-guns 
 made out of cane poles. The arrows of these blow-guns 
 were made of split cane with a tuft of thistle at one end and 
 we boys delighted in the ownership of these long and ap- 
 parently harmless weapons. I say apparently harmless, 
 but in the hande of an Indian they were very deadly to 
 birds and squirrels. The Indians were wonderful shots with 
 them and at twenty or thirty paces could hit a small silver 
 five-cent piece; always provided they were promised the 
 coin if they hit it. 
 
 I have a vivid recollection of a tragedy which happened 
 in those days which often troubles the dreams of my old 
 age. I was an eye-witness of the blowing-up and destruc- 
 tion by fire of the Princess, the finest steamboat on the 
 Mississippi in those days. The night before the disaster 
 my father and mother had kissed me good-bye and gone 
 on board of an old dismantled steamboat, which answered 
 the purposes of a wharf, to await the arrival of the Prin- 
 cess, as they intended to take passage on her for New Or- 
 leans. Early the next morning I went down to the river 
 to find out if they had yet left. The Princess had just 
 drawn out into the stream, and as I stood watching her as 
 
4 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 she glided down the river a great column of white smoke 
 suddenly went up from her and she burst into flames. She 
 was loaded with cotton. As though by magic the inhabi- 
 tants of the town gathered at the riverside and in the crowd 
 I spied my brother-in-law, Charles La Noue, in a buggy. 
 He called to me; I jumped in alongside of him and we 
 dashed down the river road in the direction of the burning 
 boat. The road was rough and the horse was fast. The high 
 levee on our right shut out the view of the river, so we could 
 only see the great column of smoke. On our left were the 
 endless fields of sugar cane, with an occasional glimpse of 
 a planter's house set in a grove of pecan trees. 
 
 At last, in a great state of excitement, we arrived at the 
 plantation of Mr. Conrad. "Brother Charlie" jumped out 
 of the vehicle and ran toward the house while I made the 
 horse fast to a tree. I then mounted the levee from where 
 I could see floating cotton bales with people on them ; men 
 in skiff's, from both sides of the river, were rescuing the 
 poor terror-stricken creatures and bringing them ashore. 
 From the levee I rushed into the park in front of Mr. 
 Conrad's residence and there saw a sight which can never 
 be. effaced from my memory. Mr. Conrad had had sheets 
 laid on the ground amidst the trees and barrels of flour 
 were broken open and the contents poured over the sheets. 
 As fast as the burned and scalded people were pulled out 
 of the river they were seized by the slaves and, while 
 screaming and shrieking with pain and fright, they were 
 forcibly thrown down on the sheets and rolled in the flour. 
 The clothes had been burned off of many of them. Some, 
 in their agony, could not lie still, and, with the white sheets 
 wrapped round them, looking like ghosts, they danced a 
 weird hornpipe while filling the air with their screams. 
 Terrified by the awful and uncanny scene, I hid behind a 
 huge tree so that I should not see it, but no tree could pre- 
 vent me from hearing those awful cries and curses which 
 echo in my ears even now. 
 
Katish 5 
 
 Suddenly, to my horror, one of the white specters, 
 wrapped in a sheet, his^disfigured face plastered over with 
 flour, staggered toward my hiding-place, and before I could 
 run away from the hideous object it extended its arms to- 
 ward me and quietly said, "Don't be afraid, Jimmie. It 
 is me, Mr. Cheatham. I am dying — hold my hand!" 
 And he sank upon the turf beside me. Although dread- 
 fully frightened, I managed between sobs to ask the ques- 
 tion uppermost in my mind: "Can you tell me where I 
 can find my father and mother?" The ghostlike man only 
 replied with a cry which seemed to wrench his soul from 
 his body. He shivered for an instant, and then lay still. 
 A slave passing by pointed to the body and casually re- 
 marked, "He done dead." 
 
 A Creole negro woman then came running toward me; 
 she was stout and almost out of breath, but was still able 
 to shout out to me in her native patois : "Mo cherche pour 
 toi partout; M'sieur La Noue dit que to vinit toute suite!" 
 When I found " Brother Charlie," he was ministering to the 
 maimed, but found time to tell me that my parents had 
 taken another boat which had stopped at Baton Rouge in 
 the night and thereby had saved their lives. I returned 
 at once to my home, where I was comforted in the strong 
 arms of Katish, my old black nurse. 
 
 Katish was a character whose fame was known far and 
 wide through the little town. She was a strapping big 
 woman who weighed over two hundred pounds, but as 
 active as a young girl. She had been my mother's maid 
 before my mother was married and afterwards had nursed 
 and bossed all of her children. I being the youngest was, 
 of course, her special pet. She ran the establishment to 
 suit my father's and mother's comfort and convenience and 
 ruled the children and the slaves to suit herself ; but we all 
 loved her, and no other hand could soothe a fevered child's 
 pillow as could the black hand of Katish. When we were 
 ill she never seemed to sleep, but sat by our bedsides until 
 
6 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 we were well. The nastiest medicine (and there were nasty 
 medicines in those days) lost much of its terrors when 
 administered by Katish. 
 
 Charloe, Katish's husband, was a dried-up, weazened 
 little man of a shiny black complexion; he always insisted 
 that his stature had been stunted when he was a jockey 
 by the horse-trainers putting him on too light a diet and 
 burying him up to his neck in the manure-box for too long 
 a time when it was necessary to reduce his weight suffi- 
 ciently to ride two-year-old colts. He had been a cele- 
 brated jockey in his day when he rode for his then owner, 
 Mr. Duplantier, a planter who amused himself with a race- 
 horse stable. Charloe was my hero, he was a perfect black 
 "Admirable Crichton." It is true that he could neither 
 read nor write, nor did he know a note of music, but many 
 a so-called educated white man envied him his accomplish- 
 ments. He spoke French, Spanish, and English fluently, 
 and played the violin like a virtuoso. His elegant manners 
 were above criticism. He made beautiful rings and bangles 
 out of tortoise-shell with only his pocket-knife, a round 
 stick, and a pot of hot water for his tools. He was also an 
 adept at making fancy ropes for bridle reins and girths out 
 of horsehair. 
 
 In 1846 Charloe went to Mexico with Dr. Harney, an 
 army surgeon, and brother of General Harney, and re- 
 mained there until the army came home. Of course if he 
 had wanted his freedom he could have remained in that 
 country where some of the highest aristocrats have a touch 
 of the tar brush in their veins. 
 
 Charloe was very much of a gentleman of leisure. He 
 paid his master a certain sum of money every month and 
 spent his time riding around the country. He was the vet- 
 erinarian of the town and was very successful in curing 
 horses of all sorts of disease, and probably knew too much 
 about spavined horses and how to fix them up so they 
 would be attractive to the innocent and ignorant would-be 
 
Charloe 7 
 
 purchaser. Besides this he made lots of money training 
 horses for gentlemen and also devoted much of his leisure 
 to catching and breaking wild horses which he sold for 
 good money after he had handled them for a short time and 
 put some style into their gaits. He was a wonder with the 
 lasso and rarely if ever missed catching a horse, and in 
 this sport he was most ably assisted by his horse "Ben," 
 who knew almost as much as Charloe did about the busi- 
 ness. 
 
 The slaves had a means of communicating with distant 
 plantations which was always a mystery to their owners. 
 During the Civil War my mother and three of my sisters 
 were refugees in a little Mississippi village, and were with- 
 out money and in danger of starvation, as they could not 
 communicate with my elder brother in New Orleans or 
 with friends in Baton Rouge. But hostile armies and 
 picket lines were not obstacles of much importance to 
 Katish when she wanted to get word to Charloe of the 
 condition of the family — Charloe being in Baton Rouge, 
 within the Union lines, and more than a hundred miles 
 away. Charloe immediately mounted his horse and with- 
 out much difficulty managed to pass through both the 
 Federal and Confederate lines and carried to my mother 
 quite a large sum of real money which he gave to her, and 
 which greatly relieved the distress of the family, especially 
 as my sister, Mrs. La Noue, had a family of little children 
 who were crying for bread. It must be remembered that 
 Charloe was of course a freedman as long as he remained 
 within the Union lines, but knew that he again became a 
 slave when he entered the territory held by the Confed- 
 erates. 
 
 Until I was thirteen years of age I was the constant com- 
 panion of Charloe. When I was a baby, mounted on his 
 horse, he would carry me around with him, and I do not 
 remember the time when I first rode a horse by myself. 
 My father was a lawyer with a very large practice, and a 
 
8 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 very busy man; and my mother was in very delicate health. 
 I was a pupil, or supposed to be one, at Professor Magru- 
 der's Academy, the best school in Baton Rouge ; but I only 
 attended when it suited my convenience, such as rainy 
 days, or when some interesting game was going on at the 
 school, or when Charloe was not going after the wild 
 horses. Since those days I have hunted the wily fox 
 with the "Pytchley" in England, and with Alfred and 
 Burnett Rhett and Frank Trenholm and Colonel Tom 
 Taylor in South Carolina, but in my opinion fox-hunting 
 is tame sport in comparison with the chase after wild 
 horses. 
 
 Under Charloe's tuition I learned to throw the lasso, and 
 if it was an easy chance he always allowed me to throw 
 first; but I had no fear of the result, for if I missed I knew 
 that I would hear the swish of Charloe's rope which with 
 deadly accuracy would land its loop over the head of the 
 poor terrified beast which had never before felt the power 
 of man. I remember vividly once, when we had turned a 
 herd of horses from a swamp for which they were headed, 
 how they dashed into a canebrake, the cane poles being 
 from ten to fifteen feet high and almost as close together 
 as the fingers on one's hand. The wild horses smashed their 
 way through and we followed closely at their heels holding 
 the nooses of our lassos in one hand and our reins in the 
 other while our heads were busily engaged in dodging the 
 muscadine vines which hung in festoons from the great 
 trees which grew among the canes. Suddenly we came 
 crashing into an old clearing. Charloe was just ahead of 
 me and this was his opportunity. Instantly his lasso com- 
 menced to describe graceful circles over his head, and hav- 
 ing selected his victim the loop shot out of his hand and 
 straight as an arrow sailed away. The loop expanded and 
 like a hawk ready to strike, it hovered for an instant over 
 the frightened animal's head. It was impossible for the 
 poor creature to dodge it, and it settled around his neck. 
 
Throwing the Lasso 9 
 
 Now came "Ben's" part in the performance, and he knew 
 as much about the game as his rider did. He was going at 
 breakneck speed, but the instant the noose left Charloe's 
 hand, stiff-legged, he planted both front feet in the soft 
 ground and as soon as he had stopped his momentum he 
 reared up and swung himself around. Ben knew that the 
 end of that lasso was made fast to the pommel of his saddle 
 and unless he took the strain down his spinal column he 
 would be jerked onto his nose. As it was, it was the other 
 horse that turned a summersault as the rope checked his 
 wild career, and before he could regain his feet Charloe 
 was on the ground and had deftly tied them. He was then 
 quickly blindfolded and a bridle without bit, but with a 
 tight-fitting halter to keep him from biting, — it was 
 called a "bosal" — and prevented the animal from opening 
 his jaws, — was fitted to him. Then his feet were untied 
 and he was made to stand up, still blindfolded. My sad- 
 dle was then cinched with a hair girth onto him, and I 
 mounted. Charloe then suddenly jerked the cloth from the 
 pony's eyes and the fun commenced. The animal was 
 dazed for a moment and then he reached his head around 
 and tried to bite my foot. Finding it impossible to do so, 
 he lowered his head until it was between his forelegs, at 
 the same time arching his back, and leaped straight up 
 into the air landing on the ground stiff -legged, and followed 
 this performance up with a series of bucks both forward, 
 backward, and sideways, until I though he never would 
 have done. I had to stay there until he gave up, for if once 
 he had got rid of me he would have become a confirmed 
 bucker and would have tried to get rid of his rider in that 
 way ever afterwards. These mustang ponies had innately 
 every conceivable horse vice such as bucking, biting, 
 pawing, and kicking, besides being endowed with a good 
 memory. When the pony was exhausted he gave up, and 
 I, also weary, was glad to dismount. When the ordeal was 
 over, Charloe simply said, "Bien, tres bien." "Praise from 
 
10 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 Sir Hubert was praise indeed," and I felt immensely 
 pleased at Charloe's approval of my horsemanship. Scenes 
 like this constituted my school of equitation, so it was not 
 extraordinary that years afterwards I succeeded in aston- 
 ishing the Bedouins in Egypt with some of my feats. 
 
CHAPTER II 
 
 Unlucky in love — The home of a Louisiana aristocrat — Hospitality and 
 lengthy visits — The sugar-house — Appointed a midshipman — The only 
 Southern man who could not whip ten Yankees — Religious mania — Fortress 
 Monroe — Mexican pulque. 
 
 I HAD Other pleasures besides chasing wild horses. I used 
 to delight in going to beautiful Lynwood, the plantation of 
 General Carter in the parish of East Feliciana, and some 
 twenty miles from Baton Rouge. Howell Carter, one of 
 the general's sons, was near my own age and we were great 
 friends, and Howell had a beautiful sister whom I adored: 
 the fact that she was a young lady in society made no differ- 
 ence to me. She acknowledged that I was her sweetheart 
 and it was heaven for me to stand by the piano while she 
 sang for me ; and besides, my favorite brother, Gibbes, some 
 ten years my senior, approved of my choice and compli- 
 mented my good taste. One day Gibbes and Lydia Carter 
 got married and it took me a long time to recover from the 
 effects of their treachery. Gibbes was the last man I would 
 have suspected of being my rival. 
 
 I also used to spend a great deal of time at the Hope Es- 
 tate Plantation, about four miles below Baton Rouge. Col- 
 onel Philip Hicky, its owner, was the most elegant and the 
 grandest old gentleman I ever knew. He was a man of great 
 wealth and unbounded hospitality. He was tall, slim, and 
 straight, and his manner was most courtly. His welcome 
 to a guest, whether self-invited or not, made the recipient 
 feel very much at home as well as good all over. He was 
 a patriarch of the olden time and lived with his children, 
 grandchildren, and great-grandchildren around him. The 
 old plantation house seemed to be made of india rubber. 
 There was always room for a few more. I have sat at his 
 table when with his family and guests more than thirty 
 
12 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 people sat down to dinner and this was not an unusual 
 occasion, but a thing that happened nearly every day, as 
 his home was convenient to the town and all of his ac- 
 quaintances knew they would receive a warm welcome if 
 they took a ride and dropped in to dinner. I knew a lady 
 who paid a visit to Hope Estate which lasted for more than 
 fifteen years, and of a gentleman who paid a call one morn- 
 ing when he was a very young man and never left until his 
 hair was white and the old colonel had been dead for some 
 years. 
 
 One of my father's brothers and one of my mother's 
 brothers had married daughters of Colonel Hicky, and 
 their children and the other grandchildren ranged in years 
 from young gentlemen and ladies old enough to go into 
 society, to boys and girls of my own age. There was a herd 
 of horses which roamed about the great pasture and every 
 child had his mount — the young ladies and gentlemen of 
 the family disdained mustang ponies and possessed highly 
 bred Kentucky saddlers. The great event of the year at 
 Hope Estate was when the sugar-making season arrived. 
 Then all was life and bustle : the fires were lighted and the 
 open kettles of cane juice began to boil while the slaves 
 feeding cane to the carrier which carried it to the great 
 iron rollers would burst into song. The sugar-house was 
 some distance from the residence and when night came the 
 young people and their guests would mount their horses 
 and proceed there to eat colon (taffy) and drink vin de cane 
 (sugar-cane juice) into which some of the older people 
 would put a little spirits if they felt so disposed. With the 
 glare of the furnaces and of the torches around the carrier, 
 it was a pretty picture and of course the young people 
 danced — they always did in the South in those days when 
 two or three boys and girls got together. Toward mid- 
 night a start for home was in order. We boys always got 
 off ahead of the older people. The narrow road lay be- 
 tween fields of tall waving and rustling cane calculated in 
 
Appointed a Midshipman 13 
 
 the night to make highly imaginative young people feel 
 creepy. As we approached a certain bridge over a small 
 draining canal, every boy knew what was coming and sat 
 closer to his saddle as he took a fresh and stronger grip 
 with his knees. As the leader's horse's feet touched the 
 bridge his rider would give a whoop and cry, "Runaway 
 nigger!" and in would go the spurs and there would be a 
 wild race for the house, each boy pretending to be fright- 
 ened to death, although we all knew that such a thing as a 
 "runaway nigger" had never been seen in that part of the 
 country. Slaves there were treated like human beings, and 
 the threat to sell one would tame the most refractory negro 
 on the place. 
 
 Some of the sugar planters in the neighborhood of Baton 
 Rouge were mean enough to object to the town boys de- 
 vasting their sugar-cane fields. It certainly was marvel- 
 ous to see how many stalks of cane a small boy could de- 
 vour. There was a Mr. Hall who owned a large plantation 
 which commenced at the town limits, and on the line he 
 planted early and told the boys that that particular sugar- 
 cane was for them, but such is the contrariness of boys that 
 we never touched it, preferring to raid the fields of planters 
 who promised to do all kinds of things to us if they caught 
 us on their grounds. 
 
 It was amidst such scenes as I have tried to describe that 
 my life was spent until I arrived at the age of fourteen, 
 when one day Mr. Edouard Bouligny, a member of Con- 
 gress, offered me an appointment as a midshipman. I nat- 
 urally became wild with excitement, for as I had never 
 seen blue water, I longed for a life on the ocean wave. The 
 only unpleasant prospect was that it was impressed upon 
 me that I would have to attend school regularly and study 
 hard to prepare myself for the examination for admission 
 into the United States Naval Academy. Besides my back- 
 wardness in my school work another difficulty which was 
 suggested was my size, as I was small for my age; but it 
 
14 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 turned out that in those days smallness of stature was not 
 taken into consideration if a boy could stand the examina- 
 tions. So I turned over a new leaf and attended school 
 and studied conscientiously until one day a difference of 
 opinion arose between Mr. Parsons, a six-foot Yankee 
 teacher, and myself. I felt a sudden desire to lick him, and 
 to want and to have, with me, in those days were synony- 
 mous terms, so I sailed in with the intention of gratifying 
 my longing. Gee ! What that Yankee school-teacher did 
 not do to me is not worth relating. Fortunately for my 
 self-respect I had not then heard the expression which 
 became so popular in the South a year or two later, — 
 "One Southern man can whip ten Yankees," — but I de- 
 cided that Magruder's Academy was no place for a gentle- 
 man and an officer, in futuro, so I severed my connection 
 with it on the spot. 
 
 My elder brother, Judge Morgan, then took a hand in 
 the game and came to Baton Rouge from New Orleans and 
 carried me off to a school managed by a Mr. McNair, and 
 situated in a forest of gigantic yellow pine trees, the near- 
 est inhabited place being the little village of Amite, about 
 sixty miles from New Orleans. One would imagine that 
 this was the ideal place for undisturbed study, but it was 
 not. It was the most melancholy place I was ever in, es- 
 pecially when night came. The sighing and moaning of 
 the big pine trees when the wind blew, and the deathly 
 stillness, only broken by the sad notes of the whippoorwills, 
 when it was calm, were enough to have given any one the 
 creeps — especially a boy who had never before been away 
 from home. 
 
 Everything at the school went on like clockwork, and 
 the hundred or more boys seemed contented until one day 
 a very popular boy returned from his home, where he had 
 been to attend a funeral, and where he had also "got reli- 
 gion" (of the virulent Mississippi type) at a camp-meeting. 
 He at once proceeded to inaugurate prayer meetings. There 
 
Religious Mania 15 
 
 was a huge pine tree a little way from the schoolhouse and 
 the ground at its base was thickly carpeted by pine needles. 
 They were convenient, clean, and soft, and one could kneel 
 upon them with comfort. At first only two or three boys, 
 religiously inclined, joined him; but soon the number in- 
 creased so rapidly that other trees had to be requisitioned, 
 and then rivalry commenced as to which of the little con- 
 gregations could exhibit the best prayer-maker. Finally, 
 with one exception (myself), every boy in the school was 
 taken with religious mania which spread amongst the assis- 
 tant teachers. Mr. McNair at first tried to moderate the 
 enthusiasm, but soon fell a victim to the contagion. Every 
 boy wanted to lead in prayer and quarrels soon arose as to 
 who could offer up the most eloquent one. Study hours 
 and recitations were alike forgotten — even the meals 
 were postponed until some boy could finish telling the good 
 Lord his woes. In the morning we would assemble in the 
 schoolroom at the usual hour and of course the routine of 
 the day would commence by Mr. McNair reading a chap- 
 ter of the Bible and offering up a prayer; then, instead of 
 proceeding with the lessons, one boy after another would 
 rise in his place and recount his religious experience. There 
 was a remarkable resemblance in these experiences which 
 consisted chiefly in the boys telling their audience what 
 fearful sinners their parents and elder brothers and sisters 
 were, and how pure, perfect, and holy they themselves had 
 become since, single-handed, they had come off victorious 
 in a fierce conflict with the Devil, captured glory, and be- 
 come one of the elect. This sort of thing went on all day 
 and far into the night. Of course it could not go on forever, 
 and the news soon spread far and wide that McNair's whole 
 school had gone crazy. 
 
 Parents came from every direction. The storm was about 
 to burst and break up the school. I was the first to be struck 
 by the lightning. I was sitting at my desk listening to one 
 of the very best of the young exhorters, who was eloquently 
 
1 6 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 describing the imaginary crimes of which his fond mother 
 was guilty, and unfolding his plan of campaign by which 
 he hoped to save her from the claws of the Devil and re- 
 form her at the same time, when a hand the size of a small 
 ham seized me by the back of the neck and awoke me from 
 my trance. I jumped to my feet and squirmed around to 
 find myself in front of the gigantic form of my brother, 
 Judge Philip Hicky Morgan, his handsome face purple with 
 rage. "You come with me, sir!" he fairly bellowed, and 
 I never got out of any place so quickly before that I can 
 remember of. 
 
 Accompanied by Judge Morgan's wife and her little 
 children, I was put on board of a steamship at New Or- 
 leans bound for New York and from there sent to Rutland, 
 Vermont, where it was proposed to put me at school, but 
 with vivid memories of the thrashing Mr. Parsons had 
 given me I did not intend to take any more chances with a 
 Yankee school-teacher, so I flatly refused to go. In despair, 
 my sister-in-law sent me to my eldest sister, the wife of 
 Lieutenant Drum, he being then the adjutant at Fortress 
 Monroe. 
 
 The gayety of "Old Point Comfort" and the dancing 
 morn, noon, and night at the hotel, combined with the 
 brilliant uniforms of the officers and the military drills and 
 parades, suited my taste exactly, and I thought I had at 
 last found the life I wanted to live. But Lieutenant Drum 
 had different views. He put me through an examination 
 and found me woefully wanting, and without so much as 
 consulting me, he determined that I should not fail at 
 Annapolis. He elected himself chief school-teacher, bought 
 the necessary books, and insisted that I should spend a 
 certain number of hours every day at my studies while he 
 superintended them. One day it was hot and uncomfor- 
 table, and a contrary problem would not come out right 
 and I was cross. Lieutenant Drum was a stubborn man and 
 insisted that I should keep at it. I lost my temper and 
 
Fortress Monroe 17 
 
 threw the book at him and for my pains got an awfully 
 good thrashing. Think of it! The war had not yet com- 
 menced and here within a year I had twice been thoroughly 
 licked by two Yankees. Thank Heaven, I had not as yet 
 met the other eight that were to make up the ten I was 
 shortly afterwards expected to whip. 
 
 While I was at Fortress Monroe the sloop-of-war Plym- 
 outh, the Annapolis practice ship, arrived with the mid- 
 shipmen on board. They had just returned from their 
 annual cruise and I went fairly wild about them, especially 
 as some of them condescended to notice me after they 
 learned that I had prospects of becoming one of their num- 
 ber. I almost felt grateful to Lieutenant Drum for that 
 thrashing which had had a remarkable effect in developing 
 my genius for mathematics. 
 
 Shortly after the Plymouth left, the steam sloop-of-war 
 Brooklyn, commanded by Commander, afterwards Ad- 
 miral, David G. Farragut, arrived. She was just about 
 to start on what was known as the " Cheriqui Expedition" 
 for the purpose of finding a new route for a canal across the 
 Isthmus of Panama. The army officers in the Fort enter- 
 tained the officers of the ship and the officers of the Brook- 
 lyn returned the compliment by giving a reception on 
 board. My sister insisted on my accompanying her, but 
 I did not want to go. The midshipmen on the Plymouth 
 had told me a lot about naval commanders and lieutenants 
 and I already regarded them as the natural enemies of 
 midshipmen. However, I was told that Commander Farra- 
 gut had his son Loyal, a boy of about my own age, on 
 board, and I was finally persuaded to go. My sister intro- 
 duced me to Commander Farragut and the great man, 
 when he was told that I had an appointment to Annapolis, 
 unbent somewhat and asked me what I intended to bring 
 my sister when I returned from my first cruise. Now, as 
 ill luck would have it, my sister greatly admired lapis- 
 lazuli stones and I blurted out, "I am going to bring her a 
 
1 8 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 set of lapsus linguae, sir!" There was a roar of laughter 
 amidst which I made my escape. I knew I had made a bad 
 break, but what it was exactly I did not understand. All 
 the same I felt awfully mortified. Years afterwards I had 
 the honor of meeting the great admiral and to my aston- 
 ishment and confusion he asked me if I had ever procured 
 that set of lapsus linguae for my sister. 
 
 While at Fortress Munroe I saw an interesting test of a 
 piece of ordnance, the "Sawyer" gun, the first rifled can- 
 non invented in the United States. The gun was mounted 
 outside of the Fort on the beach. The officers had little 
 confidence in it and every precaution was taken to avoid 
 accidents. Lieutenant Drum and I stood by a shed some 
 fifty yards away. The gun was fired and exploded — one 
 half of the breech going up into the air; coming down it 
 struck the weatherboarding just over our heads and for- 
 tunately glanced inside instead of outside the shed where 
 we were standing. 
 
 The Honorable Jacob Thompson, of Mississippi, who 
 was Secretary of the Interior in Mr. Buchanan's Cabinet, 
 came to Old Point one day and Colonel Dimmick, who was 
 in command, called on him at the Hygeia Hotel. Mr. 
 Thompson was not in. Mr. Thompson returned the visit, 
 when, unfortunately, the colonel was out driving. Neither 
 man had ever seen the other. Colonel Dimmick then sent 
 his adjutant to tender a review to the Secretary for the 
 next morning. The secretary was so late in appearing on 
 the parade-ground that the colonel, losing patience, de- 
 tailed an officer to meet Mr. Thompson when he should 
 arrive, saying that as soon as Mr. Thompson was in posi- 
 tion, he, the colonel, would lead the regiment past. 
 
 The Fourth Artillery, which garrisoned the Fort, pos- 
 sessed a drum major of whom they were very proud. He 
 was nearly seven feet tall, and with his great bearskin bon- 
 net he looked like one of the giants one reads about in 
 fairy tales, and his strut and the deftness with which he 
 
Mexican Pulque 19 
 
 twirled his gilt baton were inimitable. The dignified com- 
 manding officer was rather small in stature and not at all 
 an imposing figure in comparison with his drum major. 
 As Mr. Thompson took up his position, the band com- 
 menced to play and the regiment moved like clockwork 
 behind it. Arriving in front of the secretary the drum 
 major sent his baton into the air, and catching it as it de- 
 scended he made it whirl several times and suddenly landed 
 it under his left arm, his right hand simultaneously, like 
 that of a mechanical man, going to his forehead in salute. 
 Mr. Thompson lifted his hat and then fairly swept the 
 ground with it. After the band came little Colonel Dim- 
 mick, who with graceful precision saluted with his sword, 
 but by that time the secretary had recovered his equilib- 
 rium from his low bow to the drum major and with his 
 arms folded across his swelled chest gazed indifferently at 
 the commanding officer and took no further notice of him. 
 After the review he was introduced to the colonel, and re- 
 marked, " I always thought the captain walked at the head 
 of his troops!" 
 
 There was in the Fourth Artillery a number of officers 
 who were veterans of the Mexican War. One of them had 
 but one arm. It seems that in those days they did not re- 
 tire an officer on account of the loss of an arm if he was 
 capable of attending to his duties. One evening a dreadful 
 contretemps happened. It was at the wedding festivities 
 of the colonel's daughter. The wedding ceremony was over 
 and the guests thronged into the banquet hall, when Lieu- 
 tenant Drum produced three bottles of Mexican pulque. 
 The bottles were carefully corked and sealed, and the lieu- 
 tenant had himself filled them and brought them home 
 after the evacuation of Mexico some thirteen years previ- 
 ously. The younger officers were told that only Mexican 
 veterans could appreciate pulque, and therefore they were 
 not to be permitted to taste of the nectar, as there was so 
 little of it. Three of the veterans procured three corkscrews 
 
20 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 and simultaneously pulled the corks. Suddenly people 
 began to sniff as though they had smelt something. They 
 had — there was a sauve qui pent from the supper-room and 
 the remainder of the function had to be carried on in the 
 grounds outside the house. Mr. Drum and his brother vet- 
 erans had forgotten that pulque could only be drunk when 
 fresh from the plant and that in a few hours after it was 
 gathered it became putrid. Any one who has ever passed 
 down a street in the City of Mexico, where pulque shops 
 exist, and smelt the foul odors that burden the air can 
 sympathize with the merry-makers at the wedding. 
 
CHAPTER III 
 
 Annapolis — "Old Ironsides" — The habit of command — Show remark- 
 able leniency toward the midshipman's hereditary enemies, the commandant 
 and lieutenants — The "brood of the Constitution" — "Bill Pip," our first 
 hero — Other heroes — Skating on thin ice — The bilged — Secession. 
 
 In September, i860, I went to Annapolis and presented 
 myself before the Board of Examiners for admittance. The 
 dignity and solemnity of the officers who, arrayed in their 
 uniforms with their swords beside them, sat at a long table, 
 caused me to have a slight attack of stage fright; but the 
 ordeal was soon over and I was allowed to go out in the fresh 
 air in utter ignorance as to whether I had passed success- 
 fully or not. My mind, however, was soon relieved by 
 Lieutenant Scott, who passing by said to me, "Youngster, 
 you are all right." 
 
 The historical frigate Constitution ("Old Ironsides") 
 had recently been fitted out as a schoolship and lay at anchor 
 in the Severn River. I was directed to go on board of her 
 and found on her deck a number of other boys as green as 
 myself. Things went very easily at first, as we had nothing 
 to do besides loafing about the decks and wondering at the 
 strangeness of our surroundings. We had no wants, unless 
 it was a longing for the cute little jackets with the brass 
 buttons and the beautiful gold anchors on the lapels of the 
 turned-down collars. The captain and the lieutenants were 
 just too sweet for anything, answering our fool questions as 
 though their one object in life was to please us. But we 
 were ungrateful and took much more interest in the boat- 
 swain's mates, and the old gray-haired sailors who kept the 
 ship clean and spun yarns. The sailors first initiated us in 
 the mysteries of getting our hammocks ready and how to 
 swing them on the berth deck, and also how to lash them 
 up in the morning when we "turned out" preparatory to 
 
22 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 stowing them snugly in the hammock nettings. Everything 
 was going on pleasantly until one day, to our great delight, 
 our uniforms arrived ; they were so pretty that it seemed a 
 pity they should make such a difference in our happy lives, 
 but such was the fact. We had no sooner got into our regu- 
 lation togs than a great change in the demeanor of every- 
 body else seemed to take place. Those affable and chummy 
 lieutenants who an hour before had treated us almost as 
 equals, even condescending to joke with us, now stood on 
 their dignity, and if they spoke at all it was to give an order 
 or a reproof. The old sailors gravely saluted us as they 
 passed, but they would not stop for a little conversation. 
 I wondered what we had done to deserve such treatment, 
 but I was not long in finding out. With the uniform I had 
 come under naval discipline ; and it was extraordinary how 
 those soft-spoken lieutenants licked us into shape. I, who 
 had never obeyed anybody, within less than a week would 
 jump as though I was shot when one of them would give me 
 an order. The routine of the ship had commenced in earnest 
 — reveille, dress (and woe betide him who had lost a button 
 or whose shoestring was not properly tied), lash the ham- 
 mocks, carry them up to the spar deck and stow them neatly 
 in the nettings ; breakfast ; recitation ; drill at the great guns ; 
 recitation ; infantry drill ; recitation ; cutlass exercise ; recita- 
 tion; dinner; recitation; boat drill, or loosing, reefing, or 
 furling sail. After supper were the study hours until nine 
 o'clock, and then, after slinging our hammocks, discipline 
 was suspended and we were allowed half an hour to skylark 
 and have a little rough house — which would always be 
 interrupted, as taps sounded, by the hoarse voice of the 
 master-at-arms bellowing, "Silence, fore and aft, gentle- 
 men!" 
 
 My young sisters at home were constantly, at this time, 
 writing me letters filled with good advice and begging me to 
 control my temper and to be kind to those nice navy officers, 
 samples of whom they had met only at cotillions, and little 
 
The " Brood of the Constitution " 23 
 
 did they dream how those so gentle and elegant gentlemen 
 could on occasion roar like bulls of Bashan and scare a 
 midshipman out of seven years' growth. They also implored 
 me not to get frisky and try to lasso the commandant of 
 midshipmen. To those who knew the late Rear Admiral 
 C. R. P. Rodgers, that embodiment of dignity and elegance, 
 I need not say that I followed my sisters' advice. 
 
 The drill I most enjoyed was when we were exercised 
 aloft making and furling sail. The masts of the old frig- 
 ate were very tall, and when the officer of the deck through 
 his speaking-trumpet would give the order, "All hands 
 make sail!" we would rush to our stations and stand close 
 to the rails anxious and impatient as young race-horses 
 at the starting barrier. At the order, "Aloft, t'gallant 
 and royal yardmen!" "Aloft, topmen!" "Aloft, lower 
 yardmen!" we would spring into the shrouds, and hardly 
 touching the ratlines with our twinkling feet, a perfect 
 stream of midshipmen would dash up to the highest yards 
 decreasing in numbers on the shrouds as they reached their 
 stations. Then they would step on to the foot ropes and 
 crowd as closely as possible to the mast until the order was 
 given to "lay out and loose!" when they would go out on 
 the yardarms and cast off the gaskets. Then would come the 
 orders in rapid succession, "Let fall!" "Sheet home!" 
 "Lay in!" "Lay down from aloft!" — when as though by 
 magic the bare poles would be hidden by her snow-white 
 canvas from her trucks to her deck, and the midshipmen, 
 helter-skelter, would come jumping from ratline to ratline 
 until they reached the deck, while some of the more venture- 
 some would leap to a backstay and slide down with fearful 
 velocity. 
 
 They were a gay and reckless set of boys, but the " Brood 
 of the Constitution" will be remembered as long as history 
 is written. It is true that at that time we only had one hero 
 amongst us, — that we knew of, — but others developed 
 later. Our hero at the time was a red-headed, freckle-faced, 
 
24 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 loose-jointed, slabsided, tall, and lanky youth from the 
 muleiest regions of Missouri. He first appeared on the deck 
 of the Constitution dressed in coarse and baggy clothes set 
 off by a huge green cravat tied in a monstrous bow-knot. 
 He gazed around the deck in a supercilious sort of way, 
 walked over to a hatchway, and leaned against a windsail 
 that was ventilating the berth deck, with the result that 
 he almost instantaneously found himself three decks below 
 where he thought he was. We thought he had been killed, 
 but his long arms, which he had thrown around the wind- 
 sail, saved him, as he had only slid the distance rather rap- 
 idly. Coming on deck he informed us that he had "slid 
 down three stories.''^ He introduced himself by saying that 
 his name was William Pipkin, but that they always called 
 him " Bill Pip" at home for short, and that he would be just 
 as well pleased if we called him that, as he was more accus- 
 tomed to it. Needless to say, we accommodated him. He 
 took a plug of tobacco out of his pocket, cut off a big hunk 
 which he placed in his mouth, and then generously offered 
 the exquisite and elegant officer of the deck, Lieutenant 
 Robert Wainwright Scott, a chew, which was declined with 
 a savage glare that would have caused heart failure in any 
 of the rest of us, but which did not faze "Bill Pip." Shortly 
 after he had got into a uniform some ladies, among them 
 the wives of some of the officers, visited the ship and 
 remained aboard rather late. It was getting dark when 
 they made a move to go ashore, and one of them ex- 
 pressed herself as being a little nervous about the long 
 walk after reaching the shore. The gallant Lieutenant 
 Upshur, who was the executive officer of the ship, said that 
 he was sure any one of a number of midshipmen who were 
 standing near would be delighted to accompany them, and 
 unfortunately, for him, he called "Bill Pip," who was the 
 tallest of the lot, and said, "Mr. Pipkin, I am sure you will 
 be glad to escort these ladies." To the lieutenant's horror 
 and amazement, the lanky boy replied, "I am very sorry, 
 
Other Heroes 25 
 
 Mr. Upshur, but the last thing my mother said to me when 
 I left home was, ' Bill Pip, you keep away from the women ! ' " 
 
 But who can foretell what a boy will turn out to be? 
 "Bill Pip" resigned at the outbreak of the Civil War and 
 went South. He did not like the navy and refused an ap- 
 pointment in that of the Confederacy. He enlisted in the 
 army as a private, but the navy still pursued him. He was 
 one of a number of artillerymen detailed to fill the comple- 
 ment of the Arkansas's crew and was in that vessel when 
 she ran through the ironclad fleet above Vicksburg and the 
 wooden sloops-of-war of Admiral Farragut's fleet below 
 that city. "Bill Pip" by his own gallantry and merits rose 
 to the rank of full colonel in the army, and after the war 
 went into business, amassed a fortune, and died a million- 
 aire! 
 
 Although we were unaware of the fact at the time there 
 were other heroes on that historical deck where Bainbridge, 
 Hull, and Charles Stewart, to say nothing of "Bill Pip," 
 had won fame, and when the two big hawsers were stretched 
 from the forecastle to the sacred quarter deck, which we 
 looked upon as holy ground, and the boatswain and his 
 mates took charge of the class to teach us how to tie sailor 
 knots, the old white-headed captain of the maintop, if he 
 had looked down upon those two lines of midshipmen who 
 with short lengths of rope yam and ratline were being taught 
 the difference between a square knot and a "granny," 
 would have seen, among others who afterwards won fame, 
 fifteen boys who were to become rear admirals — Charles 
 E. Clark, who brought the Oregon around the continent at 
 the outbreak of the Spanish War; Francis A. Cook, who was 
 to command Commodore Schley's flagship, the Brooklyn; 
 Robley D. Evans ("Fighting Bob"), who was to command 
 the Iowa; and Harry Taylor, of the Indiana. These were 
 the heaviest ships of Admiral Sampson's fleet when they 
 destroyed the Spanish squadron at Santiago. He would 
 also have seen standing there Gridley, who was to command 
 
26 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 Admiral Dewey's flagship, the Olympia; Frank Wildes, of 
 the Baltimore, and jolly Joe Coghlan, of the Raleigh, the 
 three biggest ships of our fleet when they won the victory 
 at Manila. He could also have seen Sigsbee, who com- 
 manded the unfortunate Maine when she was destroyed in 
 the harbor of Havana; Colby M. Chester, who was to com- 
 mand a small squadron which was to make it possible for 
 our army to take possession of Porto Rico; Crowninshield, 
 who was to be chief of the Bureau of Navigation during the 
 Spanish War; and Dick Leary, who fired the last shot in 
 that campaign. Nearly all of the Northern boys were to 
 serve during the latter part of the Civil War and partici- 
 pate in the assaults on Fort Fisher and Fort Morgan. 
 
 Among the Southerners O. A. Brown was to serve on the 
 Confederate cruiser Shenandoah, the ship that went on 
 destroying whalers for months after the war was over in 
 blissful ignorance of the fact that the Southern Confeder- 
 acy had ceased to exist. George Bryan, who was to be in 
 the C.S. cruiser Florida; Berrien who was to be in the C.S.S. 
 Chickamauga; and Long, who was to be both in the Merri- 
 mac in her fights in Hampton Roads and in the Albemarle 
 when she fought a flotilla of gunboats in Albemarle Sound ; 
 Handsome Wyndham Mayo, who after brilliant service in 
 the Confederacy behaved with such conspicuous bravery 
 and showed so much ability when a passenger steamer which 
 he commanded after the war was burned in Chesapeake 
 Bay. And then there were also Gardner and Goodwyn, who 
 were promoted for gallantry to lieutenancies when they 
 took part in a small boat expedition which boarded and car- 
 ried the U.S. gunboats Resolute and Satellite in the Rappa- 
 hanock River. Besides these there were many others who 
 gallantly served in the gunboats and naval batteries of the 
 Confederacy. The "Brood of the Constitution" surely con- 
 tained a lot of good fighting material. 
 
 Lieutenant Commanding George W. Rodgers was the 
 captain of the Constitution. He was the idol of the midship- 
 
Other Heroes 27 
 
 men. He was afterwards killed at an assault on Fort Sumter 
 when in command of the U.S. monitor Katskill. He was a 
 strict disciplinarian with very gentle manners ; all the same, 
 the most refractory midshipman did not care to be haled 
 before him on any charge whatsoever. On Saturday nights 
 we frequently had dances — which we called "hops" — on 
 board the frigate, and many of the belles of Annapolis, 
 Baltimore, and Washington used to attend them just as 
 they do in this day and generation. The berth deck would 
 be decorated with flags and the Academy band furnished 
 the music. 
 
 Occasionally we had a little excitement on board of "Old 
 Ironsides." One day "Fighting Bob" Evans, not known by 
 that sobriquet in those days, gave us a thriller. Two boys, 
 one big and the other small, had an altercation. Bob had 
 nothing to do with it, but con amore proposed to the big 
 boy that he would help the little one lick him. The little 
 boy like a goose said that he did not want anybody to help 
 him, that he would cut his antagonist with a knife if he was 
 touched. An officer passing by heard the remark, and think- 
 ing that it was Evans who made it, promptly put him under 
 arrest and marched him to the captain's cabin, and preferred 
 the charge against him. Under the midshipmen's code poor 
 Bob could not squeal on his comrade. 
 
 Captain Rodgers arose from his seat. His wrath was 
 majestic — "And so, sir!" he said to Evans, "you propose 
 to raise a mutiny on board of my ship. I will let you know, 
 sir, that a midshipman has hung to a yardarm for mutiny 
 before this, and you dare try to raise one and I will hang 
 you ! " And turning to the officer said, " Confine him below." 
 To one ignorant of the annals of the service this hanging 
 business would have sounded like an empty threat, but it 
 must be remembered that the hanging of Midshipman 
 Spencer, son of the Secretary of War, on board of the brig 
 Summers was at that time an affair of comparatively recent 
 date, and worse than that the captain of the Summers, 
 
28 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 Alexander Slidell McKensie, was a "Rodgers," and Bob 
 did not know but what the hanging of midshipmen ran in 
 the blood. 
 
 The wardroom of the old frigate was away down below 
 the water line and the after staterooms were as dark as 
 Erebus. Bob was confined in the darkest of them. He stood 
 it for about twenty minutes and then requested that he 
 should be allowed to write a letter. Permission being 
 granted, he was taken into the light, and pen, ink, and paper 
 furnished him, and this, according to the story which fil- 
 tered down to us midshipmen, was the letter he wrote to 
 his uncle, a lawyer in Washington : — 
 
 My dear Uncle : — 
 
 I have committed mutiny and they are going to hang me. If 
 you want to see me again come quickly to your affectionate 
 nephew, 
 
 RoBLEY D. Evans. 
 
 Poor little Bob, he was only fourteen years of age and of 
 very small stature for his years. 
 
 The winter of 1 860-61 was a very cold one to me. I had 
 once seen a snow flurry at home, but I had never before seen 
 a large body of water like the Severn River frozen over. 
 The Northern boys were delighted and at once begged per- 
 mission to go skating. Seeing them gracefully skimming 
 over the ice like so many swallows was fascinating to me, 
 and I could not resist the desire to join them; so procuring 
 a pair of skates, with many doubts I too went upon the ice. 
 We had gone ashore and walked some distance up the river 
 to a place the higher authorities thought safe, and the 
 master-at-arms patroled the river-bank to afford assistance 
 in case of need. I had proceeded only a short distance from 
 the shore when suddenly both feet went skyward and the 
 back of my head hit the hard ice and the force of my fall 
 let me crash through it. The depth of the water was over my 
 head and I was weighted with a heavy regulation overcoat, 
 
The Bilged 29 
 
 but I could swim and dive almost as well as the average 
 alligator of my native bayous. I came up under solid ice 
 and then went down again and was fortunate enough to find 
 the hole I had come through. I tried to climb up on the ice, 
 but it would break as fast as I put my weight on it. Slowly 
 but surely I thus broke my way toward the shore and soon 
 found myself in water that barely reached up to my arm- 
 pits. Seeing me standing on hard bottom the master-at- 
 arms suddenly determined to do the great life-saving act 
 and came crashing through the ice and seized me by the 
 arm. I was escorted to the ship in disgrace and repri- 
 manded by the officer in charge for having gone on the ice 
 without informing any one that I did not know how to 
 skate. The master-at-arms, who had seen my life-and-death 
 struggle from the river-bank and who had done nothing to 
 help me until I was safely standing on the bottom, and 
 there was no further danger in coming to my assistance 
 than getting the legs of his trousers damp, was showered 
 with compliments and congratulated as a life-saver by the 
 higher officers (who had not seen the incident), much to the 
 amusement of the midshipmen who had been on the ice, 
 many of whom had really risked their lives in their endeavors 
 to get near me. 
 
 In February the time for our first dreaded examination 
 arrived and there was intense excitement in our little 
 floating world. Some forty-odd of our class "bilged," which 
 in midshipman parlance means that they were found defi- 
 cient in their studies, the result of which was that they 
 received polite letters from the Secretary of the Navy in- 
 forming them that if they would send him their resignations 
 he would be pleased to accept them at once. These accept- 
 ances arrived promptly, and through some misunderstand- 
 ing were handed to the unfortunate boys before arrange- 
 ments for their departure had been completed, and of 
 course there ensued a most extraordinary state of affairs. 
 Here were some forty-odd young civilians suddenly freed 
 
30 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 from the yoke of naval discipline and detained on board a 
 man-of-war where every movement was regulated by orders. 
 Naturally it was not long before pandemonium broke loose. 
 As long as the "bilged" saw the officers around, the train- 
 ing they had received in the last few months kept them in 
 order; but when night came and two bells (nine o'clock) 
 were struck and the hammocks were slung, the usual rough 
 play on the berth deck became almost a riot. 
 
 To separate the goats from the sheep the "bilged" were 
 directed to sling their hammocks as far forward as possible 
 instead of on their customary hooks. When taps sounded 
 and the gruff voice of the master-at-arms bellowed his 
 usual warning of "Gentlemen! Silence, fore and aft!" the 
 almost sacred order was received with derisive shouts of 
 laughter from forward. The petty officer repeated the order, 
 which we all well knew emanated from higher authority. 
 There was an ominous silence as the master-at-arms retired 
 up the hatchway. Then suddenly, by some ingenious de- 
 vice of the " goats " at the order, "Let fall!" a whole row 
 of hammocks occupied by "sheep" came down with a 
 crash, emptying their contents, midshipmen, blankets, and 
 mattresses, in indescribable confusion on to the deck. Man 
 is so near akin to monkeys that, as Rochefoucauld said, 
 "We even take a certain amount of pleasure in the very 
 misfortunes of our friends"; and all the boys who had 
 escaped the disaster burst Into roars of laughter which were 
 quickly hushed by the arrival of a lieutenant on the scene. 
 The hammocks were reslung and for a few minutes after 
 the officer's disappearance from the scene there was silence 
 again. We were just dozing off when the sound of a giggle 
 coming from forward made us sit up and take notice. The 
 order to keep silence was again given and received with 
 laughter. This brought Lieutenant, now Admiral, John H. 
 Upshur, the executive officer, on the scene. He ordered 
 silence again and a "goat" answered him with a "tee-hee." 
 The lieutenant walked a little way further forward, stoopH 
 
The Bilged 31 
 
 ing as he went to avoid the hammocks overhead, and re- 
 peated his command, which was received with a chorus of 
 "ha-ha's." When the young demons had enticed him as 
 far forward as they wanted him, they commenced to roll 
 thirty-two-pound round shot down that inclined deck. The 
 lieutenant manfully stood his ground for a moment, but 
 the improvised ten-pin balls came faster than he could skip 
 over them and he had to take refuge on the hatchway steps. 
 "Beat to quarters!" he fairly roared, and to the accom- 
 paniment of the "long roll" of the drums we jumped into 
 our clothes and tumbled up on deck, where we took our 
 stations at the guns ; but not for long, for we were marched 
 down to the main deck and there made to toe a seam and 
 stand at "attention." Such was the habit of discipline that 
 the "goats," forgetting that they were free, accompanied 
 us. 
 
 The suave and elegant lieutenant in charge ordered a 
 wardroom boy to bring him a table, a chair, a newspaper, 
 and a hot cup of coffee, and made himself comfortable. 
 After what seemed to me an interminable time the deadly 
 silence was broken by the officer saying that if the gentle- 
 men who had made the disturbance would step forward he 
 would gladly let the rest of us "turn in." He just said that 
 for form's sake, as no one knew better than he did that the 
 traditions of the Naval Academy did not allow a midship- 
 man to "squeal" under any circumstances — and the hours 
 dragged along. At last, becoming desperate, some of the 
 fighting men of the class asked permission to leave the 
 ranks, which was granted, as the lieutenant had been a 
 midshipman himself and knew what was coming as well as 
 the boys did. These fellows went to the guilty parties and 
 intimated to them that there would be some black eyes to 
 carry home if they did not confess and let the rest of us have 
 some rest. The hint acted like a charm, and one after an- 
 other of the newly made civilians stepped forward. It was 
 then so nearly time for reveille that it was hardly worth 
 
32 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 while for us to go to sleep again, but we had the satisfaction 
 of seeing a very seedy-looking set of civilians go over the 
 side the next morning as they bade farewell forever to a 
 naval career. 
 
 Occasionally we were taken ashore for infantry drill with 
 the battalion composed of the "oldsters" who lived in the 
 old Academy buildings. The Professor of Infantry Tactics 
 was Major Lockwood, a gallant officer who afterwards be- 
 came a brigadier-general in the Union Army. Major Lock- 
 wood unfortunately stammered and once the battalion got 
 facetious with him. He had instructed them that they must 
 never make a motion to obey an order until they heard 
 the last sound of the command. He was in front of the 
 battalion holding the hilt of his sword in his right hand and 
 the end of the blade in his left. He gave the order to march 
 all right, and then he gave the order to charge while he was 
 walking backward intending to halt them when they got 
 near him, but a fit of stammering came over him and he 
 could only say "Ha-Ha-Ha-!" and before he could finish 
 the word the midshipmen had run over him and also over 
 the sea-wall and into the water, guns, uniforms, and all. 
 Of course for the moment there was a great deal of hilarity, 
 but unfortunately those intelligent navy officers know an 
 antidote for every prank a midshipman can conceive. 
 
 By the end of i860 a dark cloud had settled^ over our 
 spirits and we no longer spent our few moments of leisure 
 in skylarking, but instead discussed the burning question 
 of secession. We did not know anything about its merits, 
 but conceived the idea that each State was to compose a 
 separate nation. Harry Taylor, afterwards rear admiral, 
 who was from the District of Columbia, said that he was 
 going with New York because that State had more com- 
 merce than any other one, and necessarily would have the 
 biggest navy. He was promptly called down by being in- 
 formed that no one would be allowed to join any State 
 except the one he was born in, — and he was further humili- 
 
Secession 33 
 
 ated by a much-traveled boy who asserted that he had been 
 in Washington and that the District of Columbia had only 
 one little steamboat out of which to make a navy and that 
 one ran between Washington and Acquia Creek and that 
 she was rotten. Personally, I was insulted by being informed 
 that Louisiana had been purchased by the money of the 
 other States just as a man buys a farm, and that therefore 
 she had no right to secede. This was said in retort after I 
 had made the boast that by rights many of the States be- 
 longed to Louisiana. So the wrangle went on day after day 
 until the news came that South Carolina had in reality se- 
 ceded and the boys from that State promptly resigned and 
 went home. Then followed the news of the firing on Fort 
 Sumter. The rest of the lads from the South resigned as 
 rapidly as they could get permission from home to do so 
 — I among the rest. 
 
 I passed over the side of the old Constitution and out of 
 the United States Navy with a big lump in my throat which 
 I vainly endeavored to swallow, for I had many very dear 
 friends among the Northern boys — in fact, affectionate 
 friendships, some interrupted by death, but a few others 
 which have lasted for more than half a century. To my 
 surprise my captain, George Rodgers, accompanied me 
 ashore and to the railway station, telling me, as I walked 
 beside him, that the trouble would end in a few weeks and 
 that I had made a great mistake, but that even then it was 
 not too late If I would ask to withdraw my resignation. 
 
 As we passed through the old gate opening into the town, 
 the gate which I was not to pass through again until my 
 head was white, fifty years afterwards, and as we walked 
 along the street, Captain Rodgers kindly took my hand in 
 his, and then for the first time I realized that I was no 
 longer in the navy, but only a common and very unhappy 
 little boy. But the Confederacy was calling me and I 
 marched firmly on. That call seemed much louder at 
 Annapolis than it did after I reached my native land. 
 
CHAPTER IV 
 
 Out of the United States Navy — Complete disguise — Captain Maynadier, 
 U.S.A. — Passing through the Union and Confederate lines — Senator Wigfall 
 and President Andrew Johnson — Montgomery, Alabama — President Jeffer- 
 son Davis and Judah P. Benjamin — Tender services and sword to the Con- 
 federacy — Declined with thanks — The "Marseillaise." 
 
 At that time I was very small for my age (fifteen) — 
 so small, in fact, that I was dubbed "Little" Morgan, which 
 nickname has stuck to me to this day despite my five feet 
 nine and a quarter inches in height and over two hundred 
 pounds weight. With as much dignity as my size at the time 
 would permit of my assuming, I took my seat in the car and 
 started for Washington. Then I commenced to size up the 
 situation. I had only twelve dollars, all the pay that was due 
 me when I resigned, and there was a thousand miles for me 
 to travel to reach my home ; but what worried me most was 
 the fear that the authorities would arrest me if they knew 
 that I proposed to offer my services to the Southern Con- 
 federacy. I had no civilian **togs," but I had taken the 
 gold anchors off my collar, on which they had left dark 
 imprints, and put blue velvet covers, fastened by elas- 
 tics, over the brass buttons of my jacket. There were only 
 nine buttons on a side, so of course they were not conspic- 
 uous. This, with the glazed cover of my cap to hide the 
 silver anchor which adorned its front, constituted my dis- 
 guise, which I felt sure would be sufficient to enable me to 
 slip through the enemy's capital without recognition. I 
 was just beginning to feel comfortable when a motherly- 
 looking old lady in the opposite seat disturbed my equanim- 
 ity by asking me in a loud voice if I was "one of those little 
 Naval Academy boys who were going South? " That woman 
 surely had the making of a Sherlock Holmes in her. 
 
 I had not an idea as to what I would have to do to reach 
 home after I arrived in Washington, so, to throw the minions 
 
Captain Maynadier, U.S.A. 35 
 
 of Abraham Lincoln further off my trail I went straight 
 to the house of Captain Henry Maynadier, U.S.A., an 
 ardent Union man who had married one of my first cousins. 
 I told him that I wanted to get home and had no money, 
 and then, washing my hands of all responsibility, left the 
 rest for him to do. He did it. He obtained a permit for 
 himself and me to pass through the lines, and, hiring a hack, 
 we started on our adventure. 
 
 The Union pickets held the Long Bridge; half a mile 
 below on the Alexandria Road were posted the Confederate 
 sentries. Of course, with the permit we had no difficulty in 
 crossing the bridge, but before we had proceeded very far 
 on the road a man with a gun jumped out of the bushes and 
 ordered us to halt. The fellow was an Irishman who had 
 formerly done chores at Captain Maynadier's house in 
 Washington, and of course he instantly recognized him, 
 at the same time crying out gleefully, " Begorra! we'll whip 
 those dirty nigger-loving Yanks now that you are coming 
 with us!" 
 
 The captain said a few pleasant words and told him that 
 I was going South and asked him to see that I did not miss 
 my way to Alexandria where I was to catch the train. He 
 also told me to jump out quickly and ordered the driver to 
 turn around. I had hardly reached the ground when the 
 driver put whip to his horses and the astounded picket, 
 recovering from his astonishment, raised his gun. I begged 
 him not to shoot, assuring him that Captain Maynadier 
 was coming South later. He did — with Sherman ! This 
 adventure occurred in the latter part of April. In November 
 of the same year Captain Maynadier and I were shooting 
 at each other at Island Number 10 on the Mississippi 
 River. 
 
 Arriving at the railway station in Alexandria, I found a 
 great crowd wildly cheering ex-Senator Wigfall, who was 
 a volunteer aide on General Beauregard's staff, and who 
 had received the sword of Major Anderson when Fort 
 
36 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 Sumter surrendered. Wigfall stood on the rear platform of 
 a car, bowing his appreciation of the enthusiasm. I found 
 an unoccupied seat on the train and was making myself 
 comfortable when a big, broad-shouldered, stumpy man 
 waddled up to where I sat and said, "Sonny, as you are so 
 small and I am so large, I think we will make a good fit for 
 this narrow seat "; and without further ado he seated him- 
 self beside me, first asking me to move so he could have the 
 place by the window. 
 
 The train started amid wild cheers for Wigfall, the hero 
 of the hour, and at every station where we stopped crowds 
 were gathered demanding a speech from the great man. 
 The stout fellow with the short legs who was seated beside 
 me apparently took no interest in the proceedings, and 
 seemed engrossed by his own thoughts. It was sometime 
 after dark when we arrived at Lynchburg, Virginia, where 
 the largest crowd we had yet seen was waiting for the train. 
 Many of the men bore torches, but they were not cheering 
 for Wigfall ; they seemed to be In an ugly humor about some- 
 thing. Suddenly there were cries of "Hang the traitor!" 
 "Here is a rope!" "Bring him out!" as the maddened 
 mob fairly swirled about the car. 
 
 A man burst through the door and rushed up the aisle 
 to where I was seated and, leaning over me, said to my 
 neighbor: "Are you Andy Johnson?" 
 
 "I am Mr. Johnson!" replied the stout gentleman. 
 
 "Well," said the stranger, "I want to pull your nose!" 
 and he made a grab for Mr. Johnson's face. 
 
 The latter brushed the man's hand aside, at the same 
 time jumping to his feet. 
 
 There followed a scuffle for a few seconds, and poor little 
 me, being between the combatants, got much the worst of 
 it: I was most unpleasantly jostled. 
 
 The crime for which they wanted to lynch Mr. Johnson 
 was the fact that he was reported to be on his way to Ten- 
 nessee for the purpose of preventing that State from seced- 
 
Senator Wigfall and Andrew Johnson 37 
 
 ing. Mr. Wigfall came up to Mr. Johnson and asked him 
 to go out on the platform with him. Wigfall at once ad- 
 dressed the mob and urged them to give Mr. Johnson a 
 hearing, which they did. The latter commenced his speech 
 by saying, "I am a Union man!" and he talked to them 
 until the train moved off, holding their attention as though 
 they were spellbound. His last words were, " I am a Union 
 man!" — and the last cry we heard from the crowd was, 
 "Hang him!" 
 
 Relating the foregoing incident to Mr. George A. Tren- 
 holm, then Secretary of the Confederate Treasury, I ex- 
 pressed the opinion that it was one of the greatest exhibi- 
 tions of courage I had ever witnessed, but Mr. Trenholm 
 cast a damper on my enthusiasm by saying, "My son, 
 I have known Mr. Johnson since we were young men. He 
 rode into prominence on the shoulders of just such a mob 
 as you saw at Lynchburg, and no man knows how to handle 
 such a crowd better than Mr. Johnson. Had he weakened 
 they probably would have hung him." It was the same 
 Andrew Johnson, afterwards President of the United 
 States, who granted Mr. Trenholm amnesty and a pardon 
 in 1866. 
 
 Continuing my journey I at last arrived at Montgomery, 
 Alabama, then capital of the Confederate States. My fears 
 that the war would be over before I got there were somewhat 
 allayed — for I had been told positively that it would not 
 last six weeks before the South would finish It victoriously. 
 I found the new capital in a ferment of excitement, nobody 
 seemed to know exactly what it was about, but it was the 
 fashion to be excited. From every house containing a piano 
 the soul-stirring strains of the "Marseillaise" floated out 
 of the open windows. At the hotel where I stopped cham- 
 pagne flowed like water. The big parlor was crowded with 
 men dressed in uniforms designed to please the wearer, so' 
 they looked like a gathering for a fancy-dress ball. On the 
 chairs and window sills were bottles of wine and glasses, 
 
38 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 while at the piano sat a burly German who, of course, 
 crashed out the everlasting "Marseillaise" while his 
 enthusiastic audience sang it. A more ridiculous sight 
 than a lot of native-born Americans, not understanding 
 a word of French, beating their breasts as they howled 
 what they flattered themselves were the words of the song, 
 it was never before my bad fortune to witness. But there 
 was really good reason for all the excitement: had not 
 twelve millions of people all gone crazy on the same day? 
 
 I put my head out of a window so that I could get a little 
 fresh air. There was a moment's halt in the music while 
 some one made a war speech. The tired and sweating 
 German musician took advantage of the respite to get a 
 little air also, and as he stood beside me I heard him mut- 
 ter: "Dom the Marseillaise!" 
 
 The morning after my arrival I went to the capitol to 
 oiTer my services, and the sword I intended to buy, to the 
 Government. There were numbers of employees rushing 
 about the building in a great state of excitement, but with 
 nothing to do. None of them could tell me where I could 
 find the Secretary of the Navy. At last I ran across an in- 
 telligent official who informed me that " there warn't no 
 such person." It appeared to be the custom of the attaches, 
 when in doubt, to refer the stranger to Mr. Judah P. Ben- 
 jamin, the "Pooh Bah" of the Confederate Government, 
 then Secretary of State. He informed me that there was 
 not as yet any Confederate Navy, and further humiliated 
 me by calling me "Sonny." However, he was very kind and 
 took me into the private office of President Jefferson Davis. 
 Talk about "the blow that killed father" — it was nothing 
 in comparison to the jolt I then and there received. Mr. 
 Davis was kindness personified and told me to go home 
 and tell my parents that as soon as the Government es- 
 tablished a naval school I should have one of the first ap- 
 pointments. I left the presence of the great man crestfallen 
 and convinced that the Confederacy was doomed. I had 
 
The " Marseillaise " 39 
 
 come to fight, not to go to school. Had I not just left the 
 greatest naval school in the world to avoid getting an edu- 
 cation? And here the best they could offer me was a place 
 in some makeshift academy that was to be erected in the 
 dim future. I felt that I had been deceived and badly 
 treated, and I mentally comforted myself with the assur- 
 ance that I knew more about drill and tactics than the whole 
 mob of civilian generals and colonels who thronged the 
 Capitol's corridors. But Mr. Davis did not know this. 
 
 I was a full-blown pessimist by the time I reached my 
 hotel where I was greeted by the sounds of the everlasting 
 "Enfants de la patrie" being hiccupped as usual in the 
 parlor ; and for the rest of the day I iterated and reiterated 
 the German's prayer, "Dom the Marseillaise!" 
 
 The only way to get from Montgomery to Mobile was by 
 steamboat; and all the boats had been seized by the Gov- 
 ernment for the transportation of troops. After much urging 
 the captain of one of the transports, as a favor, allowed me 
 to pay for my passage to Mobile on condition that I would 
 sleep on the deck, if I could find a place, and supply my own 
 provisions. The boat would start when he received orders, 
 but he did not know when that would be. A two days* 
 wait followed, during which I stayed on the boat so as to 
 be sure that I would not be left and consequently lose the 
 price of my passage. That was important, as my finances 
 were running low. Confederate money had not yet made 
 its appearance and gold was already being hoarded. I had 
 already lost quite a sum in exchanging one State's money 
 for another, as even the paper money issued in one county 
 did not pass at par in the next (if accepted at all), but every- 
 body was jubilant over the fact that the Confederate Con- 
 gress had appropriated fifteen millions of dollars to carry the 
 war on to a successful termination. 
 
 Finally, after endless delay, a swarm of volunteers took 
 possession of the boat and we were off. The transport carried 
 no guns, but she was armed with an instrument of torture, 
 
40 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 called a "calliope," or steam piano, and as she backed out 
 into the river it broke loose, shrieking an imitation of the 
 *' Marseillaise," which, with few intermissions, was kept up 
 during the two days and nights it took us to reach Mobile. 
 When the calliope did stop, it was very soothing to hear 
 the negro deck-hands break into song with their tuneful 
 melodies. 
 
 The volunteers were composed of fresh, youthful-looking 
 men, and almost every one of them was accompanied by 
 a "body-servant," as negro valets were called in the South. 
 They were also accompanied by a great number of baskets 
 of champagne and boxes of brandy. Few aristocrats in 
 those days ever drank whiskey, which was supposed to be 
 a vulgar tipple. They also had huge hampers containing 
 roasted turkeys, chickens, hams, and all sorts of good things 
 with which they were very generous. Every private also 
 had from one to three trunks containing his necessary ward- 
 robe. I saw some of these same young men in the muddy 
 trenches in front of Richmond in 1865, when they were 
 clothed, partially, in rags and were gnawing on ears of hard 
 corn, and would have gladly exchanged half a dozen negroes 
 or a couple of hundred acres of land for a square meal or a 
 decent bed to sleep on. 
 
CHAPTER V 
 
 Arrive in New Orleans — Brother Harry killed next morning in a duel — 
 Home-coming in Baton Rouge. 
 
 At Mobile I had to take another boat for New Orleans 
 which, passing through the Mississippi Sound and Lake 
 Ponchartrain, at last landed me in a country where I felt 
 at home. I never realized before how sweetly the Creole 
 accent sounded. I was met by my brother Harry, who had 
 recently returned from Europe where he had been for the 
 purpose of taking a post-graduate course in his medical 
 studies. Harry was in high spirits because he had received 
 an appointment as an assistant surgeon in the Confederate 
 Army. He told me all the family news and how my brother 
 Gibbes was a lieutenant in the Seventh Louisiana Regiment 
 and had just left for Virginia, and that my brother George 
 was a lieutenant in the First Louisiana and had gone to 
 Pensacola, Florida. It appeared to me that the Confederacy 
 wanted the whole family — with the exception of myself. 
 
 Arriving at my brother Judge Morgan's house I was so 
 glad to see the family that for the time being I forgot about 
 the ingratitude the Southern Confederacy had shown me. 
 That evening there was a dinner party at the house and 
 among the guests were Mr. Bouligny, recently member of 
 Congress, and probably the most famous duelist in the 
 State; also Mr. Heriat, editor of "The Bee," the newspaper 
 that never apologized. Mr. Heriat was its fighting editor. 
 Judge Morgan was the only Union man at his table, and 
 as the conversation naturally turned upon the war he was 
 the target for all the shafts of wit and humor. One of the 
 guests described a ludicrous sight he had witnessed that 
 morning when a youth, well known to my brother, while 
 doing sentry duty in front of a public park, had ordered 
 the gigantic judge to halt as he was on his way to hold court, 
 
42 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 and how the judge had brushed sentry and gun aside and 
 almost frightened the poor boy out of his wits by saying, " I 
 have a great mind to send you to jail for a month!" 
 
 The judge related his experiences at a mass meeting held 
 the night before at the Clay statue on Canal Street. He 
 was one of the speakers and the crowd knew his senti- 
 ments and had made their preparations. He told them that 
 if they would fight the abolitionists within the Union he 
 would fight with them, but warned them that if they fired 
 a shot at the Stars and Stripes in less than five years their 
 slaves would be their political masters. This opinion was 
 indeed prophetic, but just then a straw man about fifteen 
 feet long with a placard, on which was written in great 
 letters, "P. H. Morgan — Traitor," pinned to it was set on 
 fire and hoisted on a telegraph pole. 
 
 When bedtime came, Harry, who had always made a pet 
 of me, said that I must sleep with him, and the judge told 
 him to go to bed and get some rest, as he wished to speak 
 with me privately. When Harry had gone my elder brother 
 told me I must be very careful and not disturb Harry in the 
 night, as he had to get up very early; in fact he was going 
 to fight a duel shortly after daylight. I instantly made up 
 my mind that I was going to see that duel, and I never 
 doubted for a moment but what my gallant brother would 
 come off victor. 
 
 I was awakened before day by a noise and Harry's jump- 
 ing out of bed and hastily dressing. I too hurried on my 
 clothes and followed him downstairs. There was a carriage 
 waiting in front of the house in which were seated Messrs. 
 Bouligny and Heriat. It was still very dark, and as Harry 
 entered the carriage I climbed upon the box and took my 
 seat alongside of the driver. We proceeded to the Oaks, a 
 favorite place for duels, and when I was discovered Mr. 
 Bouligny told me that under the "code" no blood relative 
 was allowed to be within two hundred yards of the com- 
 batants, so I was sent off to stand some distance away. 
 
Home-coming in Baton Rouge 43 
 
 Mr. James Sparks was my brother's antagonist. One of 
 his seconds was William Howell, a brother of Mrs. Jefferson 
 Davis. The weapons — which my brother chose — were 
 double-barrel shotguns loaded with ball, and the distance 
 at which they fought was twenty paces. They were placed 
 in position and Mr. Bouligny gave the word. Both guns, 
 it seemed to me, went off simultaneously and Mr. Sparks 
 staggered. All four seconds ran to him, and I fairly flew 
 to see what had happened. My brother Harry during this 
 time was standing and had not taken down his gun from 
 his shoulder. Mr. Sparks's head had been grazed and when I 
 had satisfied myself that he was not hurt I turned to look 
 at my brother who to my horror was lying on his back with 
 his gun across his breast. I said, "Mr. Bouligny, look at 
 Harry!" The surgeon was already kneeling by him. The 
 bullet had struck a bone in his right arm and glancing had 
 entered his body passing through his lungs and penetrating 
 to his left side. 
 
 One of Mr. Sparks's younger brothers was a classmate 
 of mine at the Naval Academy and served gallantly in the 
 Confederate Navy afterwards. Mr. James Sparks, who 
 killed my brother, served through the long four years, and 
 after the war was over he was found dead near poor Harry's 
 grave. 
 
 The next day Judge Morgan and I took dear Harry's 
 remains to Baton Rouge. The steamboat left New Orleans 
 late in the afternoon, and all that night we sat by the cofhn 
 which was placed on the lower deck. Each of us was wrapped 
 in his own sad thoughts, so the long weary hours before we 
 arrived at Baton Rouge seemed endless. Not that either of 
 us was anxious to hasten our arrival, for we knew only too 
 well that we had a sad ordeal to go through when we met 
 our dear father, who would be bent with sorrow, and a 
 mother whose heart would be broken. God help me — This 
 was to be the home-coming to which I had looked forward 
 with such delight. 
 
CHAPTER VI 
 
 Volunteers — Lonely — Captain Booth, late U.S.A., finds use for me — 
 Pensacola — "Give them a little more grape, Captain Bragg." 
 
 I FOUND little change in the appearance of Baton Rouge 
 except that the once peaceful streets of the pretty little 
 town now resounded with the tramp of soldiers who were 
 gathering at the garrison there from all parts of the State. 
 Having nothing to do I frequented the garrison where were 
 assembled many of my old schoolmates. The military ideas 
 of these soldiers were very crude — very few, if any, of 
 them knew the manual of arms and they insisted on calling 
 their colonels and captains, "Billy," "Tommy," and "John." 
 As for the uniforms (?) they would have put to shame an 
 opera-bouffe army. I remember particularly the "Delta 
 Rifles" of Baton Rouge whose dress was much admired by 
 the ladies, but which greatly tickled my risibles. It was 
 composed of some green gauze-like-looking fabric, the tunic 
 of which, like the sleeves, was trimmed with long fringe 
 which reached below their knees, and these men expected 
 to go to Virginia and possibly spend a winter amidst its 
 snows. 
 
 The soldiers at that time elected their own officers, and 
 many men of ability declined commissions, so that popular 
 comrades who were not financially well fixed could enjoy 
 the emoluments appertaining to the ranks of captains and 
 lieutenants. But the Southern soldier was no fool, and it 
 was not very long before he discovered that the "Billy" 
 and "Tommy" captains were not the kind of men they 
 wished to entrust their well-being and lives to. 
 
 The volunteers were in great dread that the war would be 
 over before they had a chance to get into it. All was bustle 
 and excitement around me, and I alone seemed to have 
 
Captain Booth finds use for me 45 
 
 nothing to do. My favorite pony was in the stable, but I 
 had lost all pleasure in riding him — even Charloe no longer 
 chased wild horses. Cousinard, the club-footed town con- 
 stable, had killed my bull terrier while I was at Annapolis, 
 so I had no sympathetic companion to keep me company. 
 The boys I had formerly played with seemed to have dis- 
 appeared as though by magic. A cavalry regiment appeared 
 on the scene and among the privates I saw my old playmate 
 and dear friend, Howell Carter, mounted on a fine big horse 
 with a sabre as long as himself tied to him. Howell was only 
 about a year older than I, but he was big for his age. The 
 authorities seemed to draw the line only at little runts like 
 myself. Every one was either going to the war or had gone. 
 I seemed to be the only one for whom there was no place. 
 I was very disconsolate, until one day Captain Booth, an 
 old regular army officer who commanded the arsenal, asked 
 my father to lend me to him, as he wanted me immediately 
 for very important service. My father expressed surprise that 
 one so young should be selected for any mission of impor- 
 tance, but Captain Booth reminded him that I had had an 
 Annapolis training and it was absolutely necessary for him 
 to have some one who knew how to implicitly obey orders 
 without asking any questions. My father consenting, I was 
 told to put a change of clothes into a carpet-sack and go 
 down to the wharf boat within an hour and there await 
 further orders. Captain Booth soon joined me. An army 
 wagon made its appearance on the river-bank and four sol- 
 diers lifted from it a large and very heavy trunk which they 
 brought aboard the wharf boat. Captain Booth then took 
 me aside and told me what the trunk contained and handed 
 me written instructions and an order addressed to all army 
 officers and civilian officials to facilitate and expedite my 
 journey in every possible manner. The order was signed by 
 the hero of my childish imagination, General Bragg, of 
 "Give them a little more grape. Captain Bragg," fame. 
 Captain Booth and the soldiers remained with me till a 
 
46 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 steamboat bound for New Orleans arrived, when the sol- 
 diers put the trunk on board, and Captain Booth, wishing 
 me Godspeed, away I went feeling very important. 
 
 Arriving at New Orleans, I had my trunk put upon a 
 truck, and as my orders were not to part company with it 
 under any circumstances, I sat on it and directed the driver 
 to proceed to Judge Morgan's house on Camp Street. I had 
 one of the many rough rides of my life over the cobble stones 
 with which the streets of the city of that day were paved. 
 A negro butler opened the door of the house for me and in- 
 formed me that the family were away, but that my brother 
 was in town and of course would sleep there. With the 
 assistance of the butler, the two truckmen, and myself, 
 we managed to carry the trunk into the hall on the lower 
 floor, and I made an arrangement with the men to come for 
 it at six o'clock in the morning to carry it to the station of 
 the little railway, some five or six miles long, which con- 
 nected the city with Lake Ponchartrain at the point where 
 the boat for Mobile lay. Feeling safe I then went upstairs 
 and went to bed. 
 
 I awoke early in the morning just as the truckmen arrived 
 in front of the house and one can imagine my horror and 
 distress when I found that my precious trunk had disap- 
 peared in the night. I was a ruined man, and felt certain 
 that my career was blasted forevermore. 
 
 The house was a big one with a wide hall running through 
 its centre, and my brother's bedroom was on the lower floor 
 and opened into the hall. I was standing there dazed when 
 he suddenly made his appearance and commenced to scold 
 me for my carelessness. To my amazement he told me that 
 he knew perfectly well what the trunk contained, adding that 
 he had a little more care for my reputation than I seemed to 
 possess, and that he had performed the marvelous feat of 
 dragging that trunk into his bedroom and had actually 
 pushed it under his tall fourposter when he came home late 
 in the night, as otherwise burglars might have carried it 
 
Captain Booth finds use for me 47 
 
 away. Others possibly knew as well as he did what its con- 
 tents were. I was astonished by his remarks, but as I had 
 orders not to discuss the contents of the trunk with any one 
 I kept silence. 
 
 Greatly relieved in my mind I started for Mobile, and on 
 arrival there showed General Bragg's order to the quarter- 
 master officer, who had my trunk carried to another boat 
 which took me to Blakely, across the bay, where I was to 
 take the stage-coach for Pensacola. At Blakely my serious 
 troubles began. The stage agent swore that under no cir- 
 cumstances should so heavy a trunk be placed in the boot of 
 the old-fashioned stage-coach. He would allow me to take 
 passage on the crowded stage, but as for the trunk, "Nix!" 
 There was a company of infantry stationed at Blakely, and 
 I showed General Bragg's order to the captain; and on his 
 threat to seize the stage and have one of his men take charge 
 of it, I was allowed to proceed, for about ten miles, to a 
 place where we changed mules. There the stage-driver said 
 the trunk was fairly killing his team and he would not haul 
 it another mile ; it could come on sometime in the dim future 
 by wagon. My protests were in vain, as several of the pas- 
 sengers volunteered to assist him in dumping it on the 
 ground. Fairly desperate, I showed them the order of the 
 commanding officer of the district and made them quite an 
 oration, telling them that the contents of the trunk were of 
 the greatest importance to General Bragg, who had been 
 telegraphed that I would arrive on that stage, but that I 
 would not accompany them without my baggage; and I 
 wound up by asserting that if I was not on that stage when 
 it arrived in Pensacola General Bragg would hang the last 
 one of them for treason. 
 
 My imposing-looking official document and the fear of a 
 military court martial was too much for the nerves of the 
 passengers, but did not faze the stage-driver. But when 
 the passengers refused to continue the journey unless the 
 trunk went also, he relented. He took his revenge, however, 
 
48 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 by making us walk most of the forty weary miles, because 
 the road was so sandy. 
 
 Arriving at Pensacola, the passengers were very glad that 
 they had insisted on the driver bringing my trunk, for there 
 waiting for me was Colonel, afterwards General, Boggs, 
 chief of staff, and several other officers, and a detail of sol- 
 diers with an army wagon, and they fairly overwhelmed me 
 with compliments. The colonel said that General Bragg 
 wanted to see me, and we went at once to Fort Barran- 
 cus where his headquarters were. The general told me he 
 never was so glad to see anybody before, and that I was to 
 remain at his quarters as his guest until I returned to Baton 
 Rouge. The next day the Confederate batteries opened 
 fire on Fort Pickens. 
 
 After the Civil War was over. Judge Morgan, who, as I 
 have before said, was a Union man, was amusing his guests 
 one day at dinner by recounting the many acts of folly 
 of which he considered the defunct Confederacy guilty, 
 and as an illustration pointed at me and said, "Do you 
 see how young that boy looks now? Well, you can well 
 imagine how he looked at the age of fifteen when I tell you 
 that he was small for his age. The Southern troops stationed 
 at Pensacola early in the war became dissatisfied at not 
 receiving any pay. The newspapers were full of stories 
 about their being mutinous on account of the Government's 
 neglect, when the authorities, becoming frightened, to 
 pacify the men secretly sent that child with a trunk full of 
 silver dollars to be distributed among them, and the mere 
 baby carelessly left it in the hall of my house where any 
 one might have carried it off; but fortunately, for him, he 
 had a big brother who almost pulled his arms out of their 
 sockets to draw it to a place of safety under his own bed. 
 And a worse frightened boy than he was when he could not 
 find his trunk load of money you would rarely see." 
 
 There was great laughter at my expense, and when it had 
 somewhat subsided, I asked my brother if he knew what 
 
Pensacola 49 
 
 he had slept over that night? " Silver, of course," he re- 
 plied. "Well," I said, "that memorable night you slept 
 over about three hundred pounds of powder contained in 
 primers and fuses, and there were also in the trunk two 
 live shells that Captain Booth wanted Colonel Boggs 
 to try in a particular gun at Pensacola. They were 
 good shells, too, for I saw both of them explode in Fort 
 Pickens." 
 
 "Great Heavens ! " exclaimed the judge ; "and I examined 
 the fastenings with a lighted candle to see if they were 
 secure before I went to bed!" 
 
 When I arrived at Pensacola with the trunk, General 
 Bragg had only three primers to a gun and that was the 
 reason he and his staff were so glad to see me. 
 
 When I returned to New Orleans I was informed that 
 two steamers were being fitted out for the newly organized 
 Confederate Navy and I crossed the river to see them 
 where they lay at Algiers. I found several old friends who 
 had been first classmen at Annapolis on board of them. One 
 of these ships was a fruiterer called the Habana, and the 
 other was a former Mexican pirate, called the Marquis de 
 la Habana. The Habana became the famous Sumter and 
 the other's name was changed to McRae. The latter vessel 
 had already had quite an exciting career. A few months 
 previously, in company with a consort, she had appeared 
 off Vera Cruz. She refused to show her colors and the U.S. 
 sloop-of-war Saratoga undertook to make her do so. She 
 belonged to General Miramon, who was heading a Mexican 
 revolution. She and her consort opened fire, but were soon 
 reduced to submission by the American ship, but not before 
 some twenty-odd men had been killed or wounded. A prize 
 crew was put on board of her and Lieutenant R. T. Chap- 
 man was ordered to take her to New Orleans and turn her 
 over to the United States marshal and make the charge 
 against her of " Belonging to an unrecognized revolutionary 
 government and being a pirate on the high seas." Lieuten- 
 
50 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 ant Chapman, a few months after he had made this charge, 
 found himself on board of the Sumter, under Captain 
 Semmes, which vessel belonged to an unrecognized revolu- 
 tionary government and was branded as "a pirate on the 
 high seas" by the United States Government. 
 
CHAPTER VII 
 
 The sloop-of-war McRae arrives at Baton Rouge — Receives warrant as a 
 midshipman and ordered to the McRae — Fail to get through the blockade — 
 Attack on Federal fleet at the Head of the Passes — Heroes until a newspaper 
 "Mahan" discovered that we ought to have towed the whole Federal fleet up 
 to New Orleans in triumph. 
 
 The summer dragged its slow length into July. My 
 brothers Gibbes and George were by this time in Virginia, 
 one in Blanchard's brigade and the other with General 
 " Dick" Taylor's brigade, also in "Stonewall" Jackson's di- 
 vision. Everybody, with the exception of the loud-mouthed 
 orators, seemed to have gone to the war. The spellbinders 
 now had only aged men and cripples for audiences, but 
 they could always invoke a feeble cheer by dramatically 
 exclaiming, "One Southern man can whip ten Northern- 
 ers." This bold statement did not arouse any enthusiasm 
 in my breast, as I doubted its correctness. I had already 
 tackled two Yanks with rather worse than indifferent suc- 
 cess. I had eight more coming to me for my share, and as 
 I knew a lot of little fellows from New England, with whom 
 I had skylarked at Annapolis, without showing myself 
 possessed of any marked physical superiority over them in- 
 dividually, I felt justified in my doubts about being able to 
 manhandle the eight combined. 
 
 At last there came a great excitement for the town, and 
 the inhabitants, many of whom had never seen an ocean- 
 going steamship, rushed to the riverside and there beheld 
 the bark-rigged Confederate States sloop-of-war McRae, 
 of seven guns, which "had come up the river to receive her 
 ammunition from the arsenal. She was a beautiful sight 
 as she lay at anchor in the stream with her tall, graceful 
 masts and her yards squared in man-of-war fashion, looking 
 so trim and neat. 
 
 I went aboard as soon as possible to see the midshipmen, 
 
52 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 of course, and was most heartily welcomed. As soon as 
 the captain and lieutenants learned that I had been at 
 Annapolis, they too were very kind to me, agreeing with me 
 that it was a shame I was not in the service. Before the week 
 was ended I went on board again, and reported to Captain 
 Thomas B. Huger for duty. How that delightful moment 
 was brought about is best told by a letter from my father 
 to my elder brother which was given to me by one of my 
 nieces fifty years afterwards: — 
 
 Baton Rouge, La., July 17, 1861. 
 My dear Son: — 
 
 The mail has arrived without bringing any letter from Virginia 
 or from you. This has disappointed me much, as Charles La 
 Noue tells me he saw in the "True Delta" of Sunday, a letter 
 advertised for you coming from the First Regiment, Louisiana 
 Volunteers. I presume it must have escaped your attention. 
 
 It is now nearly a month since I have heard from George and I 
 am becoming anxious. 
 
 On yesterday Jimmie's warrant as midshipman arrived, at 
 which he is highly delighted, especially as Captain Huger on yes- 
 terday, before the arrival of the mail, requested me to telegraph 
 the Department that there was room for him on the McRae and 
 that he desired to have him. The little scamp seems to take the 
 fancy of all the officers he falls in with; those on the McRae seem 
 to be very clever, and the midshipmen are all acquaintances of 
 his. . . . Ever yours, 
 
 Thomas Gibbes Morgan. 
 
 Hon. p. H. Morgan, 
 New Orleans, La. 
 
 When that telegram arrived ordering me to report to 
 Captain Huger for duty on the McRae, my joy knew no 
 bounds, and rushing to my room it took me about ten 
 seconds to remove those velvet covers from the brass but- 
 tons on my jacket, and in less than three minutes more I 
 was in that uniform and had torn off the glazed cover of my 
 cap and displayed my silver anchor. In those days all the 
 naval officers wore the blue uniforms of the United States 
 Navy which they had brought South with them, and they 
 
MIDSHIPMAN JAMES MORRIS MORGAN, C.S.N. 
 
 At the age of lifteen 
 
Fail to get through the Blockade 53 
 
 kicked like steers when they were afterwards compelled to 
 don the gray, contemptuously demanding to know, "Who 
 had ever seen a gray sailor, no matter what nationality he 
 served?" 
 
 I was in mortal dread that the McRae would sail before 
 I could get to her (she in fact only lay there for ten days 
 longer), but it took me only about ten minutes to get to 
 the river where I commenced frantically to signal for a 
 boat. I must have been kept waiting for fifteen minutes; 
 to me it seemed an eternity. 
 
 Reporting, I was assigned to my watch and station, and 
 in less than an hour was sent ashore, on duty, in charge of 
 the first cutter, and how my small heart swelled with pride 
 and how my fellow townsmen's eyes opened with amazement 
 as they heard "little Jimmie Morgan" giving orders to the 
 sailors and their ever ready, "Aye, aye, sir!" in reply. 
 
 Having got our ammunition on board, at last we started 
 for New Orleans to fill up with coal, and then steamed for 
 the mouths of the river, or rather to the "Head of the 
 Passes," to await an opportunity to run the blockade. 
 Captain Semmes with the Sumter had succeeded in doing 
 it — why should not we ? But it was not to be. The 
 passes were much better guarded than when the Sumter 
 escaped. Several times we got ready to attempt the feat 
 at night, but on each occasion the pilots raised objections, 
 saying that the McRae drew too much water for them to 
 take the responsibility, or that they were not pilots for the 
 bar of the pass selected. Strange to say, most, if not all, the 
 pilots, were Northern men. So we spent weeks laying at 
 the Head of the Passes, or between there and Forts Jack- 
 son and St. Philip, waiting our chance until our coal supply 
 was exhausted and then we returned to New Orleans to 
 refill our bunkers. 
 
 The " Crescent City " was gay In those days, as the people 
 had not yet realized what a serious thing war was, or what 
 it was to live in a captured city, an experience that was 
 
54 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 to be theirs before many months had passed. There were 
 balls and dinners ashore, and the ship was constantly filled 
 with visitors. 
 
 In the olden times little midshipmen were punished by 
 being "mastheaded," which consisted in the youngster hav- 
 ing to climb up to the cap of the foretopmast and stand 
 there with barely space enough for his two little feet, and 
 he had to hold on to the stays to keep from falling. Un- 
 fortunately I was frequently detected in some deviltry, and 
 as a consequence, passed much of my leisure time aloft. I 
 am doubtful if I ever quite forgave our gallant second lieu- 
 tenant, Mr. Eggleston, for saying to me on one occasion, 
 after I had presented the first lieutenant's compliments and 
 requested him to masthead me, "Well, sir, you surely ought 
 to know the way up there by this time!" — I always sus- 
 pected that he meant to be sarcastic. 
 
 Captain Huger was a very handsome man; he was also 
 a widower, his late wife having been a sister of General 
 Meade, U.S.A., of Gettysburg fame. The captain was at 
 the time of which I write engaged to one of the most beauti- 
 ful girls in New Orleans, so it was not strange that when 
 lying off the city he always found it convenient to anchor 
 the McRae in front of Jackson Square because the Pont- 
 alba buildings faced the park, and in one of them, near the 
 old Cathedral of St. Louis, his sweetheart dwelt. I knew 
 all about the courtship because I carried so many notes 
 from the captain, and the young lady made such a pet of 
 me. 
 
 When the month of October arrived, it brought with it 
 some excitement. Three towboats and a river tug each 
 armed with a smooth-bore thirty-two pounder had been 
 added to the Confederate fleet on the Mississippi. There 
 was also a tugboat, called the Enoch Train, belonging to 
 private parties, who had covered her over with a wooden 
 turtleback over which they had placed railway iron "T" 
 rails, dovetailed, for an armor. The patriotic owners wanted 
 
Attack on Federal Fleet 55 
 
 to make a contract with the Confederate Government (for 
 a huge sum) for every Federal vessel they would sink. 
 
 The United States fleet, consisting of the steam sloop- 
 of-war Richmond of twenty-six nine-inch guns, the Preble 
 and Vincennes, sailing sloops-of-wai" of twenty-two guns 
 each, and the Waterwitch, a steamer carrying five guns one 
 of which was a rifle, had taken possession of the Head of 
 the Passes of the Mississippi and put an end to any pos- 
 sible blockade-running. 
 
 Commodore Hollins had now assumed command of the 
 naval defenses of the Mississippi River. He was no longer 
 young, having been a midshipman on the U.S. frigate 
 President when she was captured by a British fleet in the 
 War of 1812. He was also the man who had (in the U.S. 
 sloop-of-war Cyane) bombarded Greytown in Nicaragua. 
 He now determined to attempt to drive the United States 
 fleet out of the river: and to do this he decided to seize the 
 ram, now called the Manassas, which was anchored in the 
 stream. To a polite request that she should be turned 
 over to us came the reply that we "did not have men enough 
 to take her." The McRae was ranged up alongside of her 
 and a boat was lowered. Lieutenant Warley ordered me to 
 accompany him. On arriving alongside of the ram we found 
 her crew lined up on the turtleback, swearing that they 
 would kill the first man who attempted to board her. There 
 was a ladder reaching to the water from the top of her 
 armor to the water line. Lieutenant Warley, pistol in hand, 
 ordered me to keep the men in the boat until he gave the 
 order for them to join him. Running up the ladder, his face 
 set in grim determination, he caused a sudden panic among 
 the heroic (?) crew of longshoremen who incontinently 
 took to their heels and like so many prairie dogs disap- 
 peared down their hole of a hatchway with Mr. Warley 
 after them. He drove them back on deck and then drove 
 them ashore, some of them jumping overboard and swim- 
 ming for it. With the addition of two fire rafts our fleet was 
 
56 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 now complete and we proceeded to the forts, where we 
 anchored awaiting an opportunity to attack the enemy. 
 This chance arrived on the night of the 12th of October, 
 when we weighed anchor and proceeded down the river, 
 the Manassas, under the command of Warley, leading, 
 followed by the fire rafts in tow of tugs, the McRae, the 
 Ivy, the Tuscarora, the Calhoun, and the Jackson. The 
 Calhoun, a towboat, with a walking-beam engine, was 
 considered too vulnerable in her boilers and machinery, so 
 she was ordered to keep out of it. The Jackson, a high-pres- 
 sure paddlewheel towboat of great power, made so much 
 nois'e from her escape pipes that she could be heard ten 
 miles away, so she was ordered to stay as far behind as pos- 
 sible. It must have been about three o'clock in the morning 
 when we saw a rocket go up which was the signal agreed 
 upon that the Manassas had rammed something. In- 
 stantly the heavy broadsides of the United States ships 
 blazed forth as they shot holes through the darkness, or, as 
 we hoped, through one another. Our fire rafts also burst 
 into flame and were floating down upon them. It was a 
 magnificent spectacle to those of us who were a mile 
 away. 
 
 When daylight came, all firing ceased, and to our amaze- 
 ment we saw the Federal fleet fleeing down the Southwest 
 Pass, and the Manassas (which we had never expected to 
 see again), lying a helpless wreck in the marsh, against 
 which she had drifted. She had rammed the Richmond and 
 torn off of that vessel's bow a couple of planks, but as the 
 Richmond had a coaling schooner alongside, the speed of 
 the ram had been checked by the hawser of the collier which 
 was made fast to the bow of the warship. The cable had 
 slipped over the bow of the Manassas and mowed off her 
 little smokestacks even with the turtleback, rendering her 
 helpless. The Richmond had frantically worked her broad- 
 side, but the ram lay so low in the water that all the pro- 
 jectiles passed over her. This was fortunate, as the dense 
 
U.S. SLOOP-OF-WAR RICHMOND, OF FARRAGUT'S FLEET 
 
 C.S. RAM MANASSAS, WHICH RAMMED THE RICHMOND 
 
Attack on Federal Fleet 57 
 
 smoke which filled the Manassas had forced her crew to take 
 refuge on her deck. The little ram was too light for the work, 
 and too weak in power. She had been a good tug, but the 
 weight of her armor had completely deadened her speed, 
 and while she did very well going downstream she could 
 not make more than one or two knots an hour against the 
 current. 
 
 " It is a poor cock that won't chase a fleeing rooster." Em- 
 boldened by the sight of the retreating enemy we gave chase. 
 On arriving at the mouth of the river the Preble and Water- 
 witch passed over the shallow bar safely, but the big Rich- 
 mond and the Vincennes grounded, the latter with her stern 
 pointing upstream. The Richmond when she struck the 
 bottom was swung around by the current and presented her 
 formidable broadside to us. Outside, in the Gulf, about 
 three miles away, was the fifty-gun sailing frigate Santee ' 
 under a cloud of canvas, sailing back and forth like a caged 
 lion, unable to get into the fray on account of her great 
 draft, but she made as glorious a picture as ever delighted 
 the eye of a sailor. 
 
 We opened fire with our nine-inch pivot gun on the Rich- 
 mond, but from a very respectful distance, as otherwise we 
 might have spoiled her pretty paint. She replied at first 
 with single guns, and afterwards with broadsides, many of 
 the projectiles passing over us. The Waterwitch from out- 
 side used a rifled gun, but her shots also, fortunately for us, 
 went high. 
 
 The towboat Ivy, commanded by Lieutenant Fry (the 
 man who was some years later captured In the blockade- 
 runner Virginius and so cruelly put to death by the Span- 
 iards at Santiago, Cuba), made a dash for the helpless 
 Vincennes, and, taking up a position under her stern, com- 
 menced to throw thirty-two-pound shells, from her one little 
 smooth-bore gun, into the sloop-of-war's cabin windows. 
 Suddenly, to our amazement, we witnessed a sight the like 
 of which was never before seen in the United States Navy. 
 
58 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 The boats of the Vincennes were lowered and her crew, 
 after putting a fuse to her magazine, abandoned her, and 
 took refuge on the Richmond ! 
 
 The shots from the Richmond, in her efforts to protect 
 the Vincennes's boats, almost drowned the little Ivy with 
 spray and she was recalled. 
 
 A most extraordinary thing had occurred on the aban- 
 doned ship. Her cartridges were in red flannel bags, as was 
 the custom at that time, and they were packed in metal 
 cylinders about the size of barrels. One of these had been 
 emptied and the fuse end was placed at its bottom and the 
 powder cartridges replaced. The fuse led out of the maga- 
 zine and up the hatchway on to the upper deck for some dis- 
 tance. It burned its way along the deck and down into the 
 magazine, up the side of the cylinder, and down through the 
 spaces between the cartridges to the bottom without ex- 
 ploding a cartridge! 
 
 Commodore Hollins, knowing that the Richmond, alone, 
 could whip the Gulf of Mexico full of such vessels as he 
 commanded, if she could only get at them, withdrew from 
 action and proceeded up the river, taking possession of three 
 schooners on the way which the Federal fleet had left be- 
 hind them in their hurry to get away. 
 
 Arriving at the forts we anchored and I was sent up to 
 New Orleans as a bearer of dispatches. The news of the 
 fight had preceded me, and we found a great crowd on the 
 levee when the steamboat made her landing. For the only 
 time in my life I experienced the delights of having myself 
 made into a hero. When it became known to the crowd that 
 I had been in the fight, they cheered and seemed wild with 
 excitement, but unfortunately for our glory the enthusiasm 
 wore off when a "newspaper admiral " came out in an editor- 
 ial denouncing Commodore Hollins, stating that his conduct 
 was most reprehensible in that he had not brought to the 
 city, as prizes, the whole Federal fleet. I suppose the frigate 
 Santee, which drew so much water it would have required a 
 
Attack on Federal Fleet 59 
 
 rather large truck to have carried her over the bar, ought 
 to have been brought also! 
 
 I had the permission of my captain to visit my home in 
 Baton Rouge after mailing the commodore's dispatches, 
 and when I arrived there I found my father dying. I went 
 into his room and he made a sign that he wanted to speak 
 to me. Bending over him I placed my ear close to his mouth 
 and he whispered, "Good-night; God bless you, my son." 
 Those were his last words. 
 
CHAPTER VIII 
 
 The McRae made flagship of the Mississippi flotilla — Commodore Hollins 
 — Appointed aide-de-camp to the commodore — Island No. lo — New Ma- 
 drid — The Swamp Fox of Missouri — Masked batteries — Wanted to chal- 
 lenge a major — U.S. ironclads pass Island No. lo — Stung — New Madrid 
 and Island No. lo evacuated — "Savez" Read administers a lesson in disci- 
 pline to the volunteers — Gunboats pretty badly cut up by shore batteries — 
 Go back to New Orleans — Fort Jackson under heavy bombardment from 
 Porter's mortar fleet — Commodore Hollins relieved from his command — 
 Farragut passes the forts — Death of Captain Huger and sinking of the 
 McRae. 
 
 Here is a coronach for Confederate soldiers evidently 
 written by an "unreconstructed rebel." It appears on a 
 headstone in the Methodist Cemetery, St. Louis: — 
 
 Here lize a stranger braiv, 
 Who died while fightin' the Suthern Confederacy to save 
 
 Piece to his dust. 
 
 Braive Suthern friend 
 
 From iland lo 
 
 You reached a Glory us end. 
 We plase these flowrs above the stranger's hed, 
 In honer of the shiverlus ded. 
 
 Sweet spirit rest in Heven 
 
 Ther'l be know Yankis there. 
 
 When I returned to the McRae, I found great changes 
 had occurred during my two weeks' absence. All idea of 
 running the blockade and going to sea as a cruiser had been 
 abandoned, and judging from my later experience in a 
 "commerce destroyer" it was well that the intention had 
 been abandoned, for with her limited coal capacity, and her 
 want of speed owing to the small power and uncertain 
 humor of her gear engines, it is doubtful if she would have 
 lasted a month in that business. 
 
 I now found her much changed in outward appearance. 
 The tall and graceful spars, with the exception of the lower 
 masts, had disappeared. With the exception of Captain 
 
Island Number io 6i 
 
 Huger, Sailing Master Read ("Savez"), and Midshipman 
 Blanc, all of the line officers, whom I loved so dearly, were 
 detached. Lieutenant Warley was to command perma- 
 nently the Manassas; Lieutenant Eggleston and Midship- 
 man Marmaduke were to join the Merrimac at Norfolk; 
 Lieutenant Dunnington was to command the gunboat 
 Ponchartrain ; Midshipman Sardine Graham Stone was to 
 go to the cruiser Florida; and Midshipman Comstock was 
 to go to the gunboat Selma, on board of which he was cut 
 in two by a shell at the battle of Mobile Bay ; and I was ap- 
 pointed aide-de-camp to Commodore Hollins, whose flag- 
 ship the McRae was to be. 
 
 Three river steamboats had been converted into men-of- 
 war by having their luxurious cabins removed and their 
 boilers protected by iron rails. They each carried four guns 
 — three forward and one aft — and there had also been 
 built (from designs by a locomotive roundhouse architect, 
 I suppose) the most wonderful contraption that ever was 
 seen afloat, called the Livingston. She carried six guns, 
 three forward and three abaft the paddleboxes, and she was 
 almost circular in shape. She was so slow that her crew 
 facetiously complained that when she was going down- 
 stream at full speed they could not sleep on account of the 
 noise made by the drift logs catching up with her and 
 bumping against her stern. These boats, with the Ivy and 
 the tug Tuscarora, constituted our fleet. 
 
 Information reached us that a number of real ironclads 
 which the Federal Government was building at St. Louis 
 and on the Ohio River were completed and were about to 
 come down the river. 
 
 The Confederates hastily fortified Island Number lo, a 
 few miles above New Madrid, Missouri, and at the latter 
 place had built two forts (Bankhead and Thompson). Our 
 fleet was ordered to make all haste up the river to assist 
 them in preventing the Federal fleet from coming down. 
 
 On the way up the river our first disaster happened, when 
 
62 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 on a dark and foggy night we rammed the plantation of 
 Mr. Jefferson Davis, President of the Confederacy. For this 
 heroic performance, it is needless to say, none of us were 
 promoted, and we lay ingloriously stuck in the mud until 
 we were pulled off by a towboat. Disaster number two 
 came when we were passing Helena, Arkansas, — the 
 Tuscarora caught fire and was destroyed. 
 
 Day after day, with our insufficient power and great 
 draft, we struggled against the mighty current of the Missis- 
 sippi, occasionally bumping into a mud bank and lying 
 helpless there until we were pulled off. At the cities of Vicks- 
 burg and Memphis we received ovations. The dear people 
 were very enthusiastic, and knowing nothing about naval 
 warfare, they felt sure we could whip the combined fleets 
 of the universe. 
 
 When we finally arrived at Island Number lo, we found 
 a lively bombardment going on. It was, however, decided 
 that we should drop down to New Madrid to assist in the 
 defense of that city. 
 
 The winter of 1861-62 was a very cold and bleak one in 
 that part of the country, and for several weeks the monot- 
 ony of our lives was broken only by the sound of the distant 
 booming of the guns at Island Number 10. 
 
 The McRae had been laid alongside the river-bank at the 
 head of the main street of the town and the muzzles of her 
 guns were just above the levee, thus giving us the whole 
 State of Missouri for a breastwork. 
 
 Everything seemed to be very peaceful until one day a 
 solitary horseman made his appearance galloping at full 
 speed. He stopped when he arrived opposite the McRae, 
 and shouted from the shore that he wanted to see Commo- 
 dore Hollins. The commodore, who was standing on the 
 deck, asked him what he wanted, and the excited cavalier 
 shouted back: "I am General Jeff Thompson, the swamp 
 fox of Missouri. There are a hundred thousand Yankees 
 after me and they have captured one of my guns, and if you 
 
Masked Batteries 63 
 
 don't get out of this pretty quick they will be on board of 
 your old steamboat in less than fifteen minutes ! " Just then 
 another man, apparently riding in a sulky, between the 
 shafts of which was hitched a moth-eaten mule, appeared 
 on the scene. On closer inspection it was discovered that 
 he was sitting astride of a small brass cannon which was 
 mounted on a pair of buggy wheels. This piece of ordnance 
 was scarcely three feet long. The general gazed on it admir- 
 ingly, and for our information said : "That is a one-pounder 
 — I invented it myself. The Yanks have got its mate, and 
 if you don't get out of this they will hammer you to pieces 
 with it." By this time there was great commotion in the 
 two forts — seeing which General Jeff Thompson, nodding 
 his head at the commodore, said, "So long!" and galloped 
 away. That was the last we saw of him in that campaign. 
 
 As the gallant "swamp fox" disappeared in the distance, 
 the gun's crew of his one-gun battery resignedly observed, 
 "I can't keep up with Jeff"; and brought down his thong 
 on the mule's bony back, and the poor beast leisurely walked 
 away. 
 
 Above New Madrid a bayou emptied itself into the river. 
 It meandered through a swamp for miles into the interior 
 and was supposed to be impassable by troops, but General 
 Pope and his thirty thousand men had accomplished the 
 feat and taken New Madrid in the rear. His army was 
 marching boldly up to our lines, and had they kept on they 
 would have taken the place at once; but when the McRae's 
 big nine-inch Dahlgren gun opened on them at long range, 
 they stopped and proceeded to lay siege to it. It was evi- 
 dently intended that they would take the place by regular 
 approaches and the dirt commenced to fly while the artil- 
 lery kept up a desultory fire. 
 
 The Confederate forts were situated at each end of the 
 town and the flotilla of gunboats lay between them. Un- 
 fortunately the McRae's battery was the only one mounted 
 at a sufficient height above the river-bank to fire over it 
 
64 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 while at the same time using it for a breastwork; the other 
 boats had to lie out in the stream where they were very 
 much exposed to the enemy's fire. 
 
 Some three thousand raw recruits formed the garrisons 
 and manned the trenches which connected the forts. The 
 forts had been built with regard to commanding the river 
 and were very weak on the land side. 
 
 Day by day the Union troops drew nearer and the firing 
 increased in fury. Commodore Hollins sent me frequently 
 with communications to General Bankhead, who com- 
 manded our land forces. One day, when the firing was 
 particularly furious, I was sent with one of these missives 
 and found General Bankhead on the firing line. Shells were 
 bursting frequently in unpleasant proximity to where he 
 was standing with his field-glasses pressed to his eyes. Just 
 behind him stood several officers. I saluted the General 
 and handed him the envelope. He told me to wait until he 
 could send back an answer. As I joined the group of officers 
 I distinctly heard a major say, "What a damned shame to 
 send a child into a place like this!" The other officers must 
 have noticed that my dignity was offended, for they spoke 
 very kindly, but I could not get over the insult — it stuck 
 in my gorge. I was so mad I could hardly speak. Returning 
 to the ship I at once consulted my friend, the first lieuten- 
 ant, who was now Mr. Read ("Savez"), on the propriety 
 of sending the major a challenge, but "Savez" soothed my 
 wounded feelings by telling me that "the commodore would 
 not approve of such action and anyhow I need not mind 
 what the major said, as he was nothing but a damned sol- 
 dier, and a volunteer at that, and of course did not know 
 any better." 
 
 The enemy got to the river-bank below us and a new 
 danger menaced us. They prevented our transports from 
 coming up the stream. The levees were breastworks ready- 
 made, and day after day our gunboats had to go down to 
 clear them out. We would be drifting down the apparently 
 
Island Number io 65 
 
 peaceful river, when suddenly a row of tall cottonwood sap- 
 lings would make us a graceful bow and fall into the stream 
 as a dozen or more field pieces poured a galling broadside 
 into us. Of course, with our heavy guns we would soon 
 chase them away, but only to have them reappear a mile 
 above or below in a little while, and then the same thing 
 had to be gone through again. Later they brought up some 
 heavy guns and then we had some really good tussles with 
 them. 
 
 Our troops were forced back until they were under cover 
 of the forts, leaving the space between, which was the aban- 
 doned town, to be protected by the guns of the McRae. I 
 was standing by the commodore on the poop deck watch- 
 ing the firing when we saw a light battery enter the other 
 end of the main street. Our nine-inch gun was trained on 
 them, and when it was fired the shell struck the head of the 
 column and burst in about the middle of the company. 
 To see horses, men, and guns cavorting in the air was a 
 most appallmg sight. Flushed with success the ofificer in 
 charge of the gun reloaded and tried another shot, when 
 the gun exploded, the muzzle falling between the ship's 
 side and the river-bank, while one half of the great breech 
 fell on the deck beside its carriage. The other half went 
 away up into the air and coming down struck the rail be- 
 tween the commodore and myself and cut the side of the 
 ship, fortunately glancing out instead of inside. The com- 
 modore coolly remarked, "Youngster, you came near 
 getting your toes mashed!" 
 
 We had a rough little steam launch, about twenty-five 
 feet in length, which acted as a tender to the McRae, and 
 as our gunboats were makeshift ones, they were not pro- 
 vided either with signals or any place to fly them from. I 
 used this launch to convey to them the flag officer's orders. 
 The commodore suspected that the enemy were fortifying 
 the point above us which, if done, would have cut us off 
 from communication with Island Number 10 which was 
 
66 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 making a heroic defense and preventing the Union iron- 
 clads from coming down and annihilating our little mosquito 
 fleet. So he sent me on a reconnaissance, cautioning me to 
 be careful and not approach too close to the point until I 
 was satisfied there was no battery there. 
 
 The launch had no deck and consequently her little 
 boiler and engine were all exposed to the weather. Her 
 crew consisted of a fireman from the McRae and a sailor 
 to steer her. I proceeded to the point keeping well out in the 
 stream, but saw nothing suspicious. Being of a curious 
 turn of mind I wanted to see what was around the river 
 bend, so kept on. As we turned the point my helmsman ex- 
 claimed, "The Tom Benton!" The Tom Benton was the 
 largest Union ironclad on the river and all ironclads were 
 "Tom Bentons" to us. Sure enough, across the next bend 
 we saw a column of black smoke, evidently issuing from 
 the funnel of a steamer and we turned tail and ran for the 
 McRae with all speed possible. As we passed the point, 
 which I had previously satisfied myself was absolutely 
 harmless, the small cottonwood trees fell into the river and 
 a battery opened on us, one of the shells exploding as it 
 struck the water, drenching us. But our noble craft kept 
 on her way, the engineer by this time having tied down the 
 safety-valve. Arriving within hailing distance of the flag- 
 ship, I sang out "Tom Benton coming down, sir!" Com- 
 modore Hollins being on deck shouted back, "Come 
 aboard, sir"! — My chief engineer gasped out, "For God's 
 sake, don't stop, sir; she will blow up!" We ran around 
 the McRae while the officer of the deck, and it seemed to 
 me everybody else, was shouting, "Come aboard!" The 
 safety-valve by this time had been unlashed and she was 
 blowing off steam, while the whirling engine was also using 
 up as much of the surplus as possible as around and around 
 we went, while the commodore was stamping on the deck 
 and fairly frothing at the mouth. At last — it seemed to 
 me an age — the engineer pronounced it safe to stop, and 
 
New Madrid 67 
 
 we went alongside the flagship. As I stepped on to the quar- 
 ter deck. Commodore HoUins demanded to know why I 
 had disobeyed his instructions and gone around the point. 
 Hesitatingly I answered, "I thought, sir — " But I got 
 no farther, as the commodore interrupted me with " You 
 thought, sir! You dared to think, sir! I will have you un- 
 derstand I am the only man in this fleet who is allowed to 
 think!" I was so badly scared that probably that awful 
 interview with the commodore was the reason I was never 
 afterwards so thoughtless. 
 
 The Federal ironclad, not knowing our weakness, after 
 she had run by the Island Number 10 batteries in the night, 
 was quietly waiting at her anchors for her consorts to do 
 likewise before attacking us. 
 
 The houses of New Madrid interfered with our fire. 
 They were just as their owners had left them when they fled 
 in such haste that they had not time to move their furni- 
 ture or belongings, and it had up to this time seemed a 
 pity to destroy them, but now they had been riddled by 
 shells and were very much in the way. The commodore 
 sent for me one night and ordered me to take a detail of 
 men and go ashore and set fire to the town. I begged him 
 not to send me and told him the history of the place, and 
 how in 1787 the King of Spain had given my great-grand- 
 father. Colonel George Morgan, formerly of the Revolu- 
 tionary Army, a grant of land comprising, according to 
 Gayarre, in his history of Louisiana, some seventeen 
 millions of acres, and how my ancestor had founded the 
 city of New Madrid on it, and that it would be dreadful 
 for me to have to destroy it. The old commodore simply 
 remarked that it would be a singular coincidence and that 
 it was all the more appropriate that I should destroy my 
 ancestor's town. 
 
 I went ashore with a number of men all provided with 
 matches and fat-pine torches. The wind was blowing 
 toward the river and we sneaked along in the darkness until 
 
68 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 we arrived at the last houses in the suburbs. I then remem- 
 bered that in my frequent visits to the army headquarters 
 I had noticed a barn that was filled with straw situated 
 some two hundred yards beyond the last house in an open 
 field. I knew that the enemy's pickets were very near and 
 did not like to send one of my men to set it on fire, so I gave 
 them instructions to wait until I myself touched it off or the 
 pickets commenced to shoot and then to set fire to every- 
 thing within reach as rapidly as possible. I knew little of 
 the effects of lights and shadows. I made my way out to the 
 barn all right and found the straw bulging out of a window 
 well within my reach. I struck a match and applied it to 
 the straw with the result that a mass of flame instantly 
 leaped many feet above the roof, and the minie bullets 
 commenced to sing like so many big mosquitoes around my 
 ears. I fled toward my comrades. I don't think I ever ran 
 so fast in my life as I did on that occasion. I was fairly 
 flying when I felt a sting in the upper part of my left arm, 
 and I also distinctly remembered that I exclaimed, "Thank 
 God, it is not in one of my legs!" The only effect of the 
 shot was to increase my speed, if that was possible: the 
 bullet had only grazed my arm. A line of houses were in 
 flames by the time I rejoined my men. The wind fanned the 
 flames and the light exposed us to the fire of the enemy, 
 but we succeeded in reaching the ship without the loss of 
 a man. I had undone the work of my ancestor, and I was 
 not particularly proud of the job. 
 
 A few days after this adventure things at New Madrid 
 came to a head. We were cut off from Island Number lo 
 by the ironclad, and the batteries below cut us off from com- 
 munication with the lower river. We commanded only the 
 little stretch along which our gunboats lay. Our soldiers 
 were completely demoralized and it was decided to evacu- 
 ate New Madrid. At midnight the gunboats were brought 
 alongside the bank, gangplanks were put out, and we had 
 not long to wait before the terrified troops, every man for 
 
A Lesson in Discipline 69 
 
 himself, rushed aboard the smaller gunboats in the greatest 
 disorder. They at once rushed to the side farthest from the 
 enemy, and in doing so almost capsized the topheavy and 
 cranky little Ivy. 
 
 But it was a different thing with the McRae, where they 
 found a sentry at the gangway who ordered them to halt. 
 They raged and swore and openly threatened to rush the 
 sentry, but at that moment the gentle "Savez" Read ap- 
 peared on the scene and told the men that if they came on 
 board it would have to be in an orderly manner as soldiers, 
 and not as a mob. At this the men commenced to threaten 
 him, but he only asked them where their officers were, and 
 was told that they did not care a rap where they were, but 
 that they were coming aboard. By this time Read had gone 
 ashore and was standing amongst them. He quietly asked 
 them to be silent for a moment, and then inquired who 
 was their head man. A big fellow, with much profanity 
 said he "had as much to say as any other man." Instantly 
 Read's sabre flashed out of its scabbard and came down on 
 the head of the mutineer, felling him to the ground, as in a 
 thunderous voice the usually mild "Savez" roared, "Fall 
 in!" — and the mob ranged themselves in line like so many 
 lambs and were marched quietly across the gangplank and 
 on to the ship. 
 
 We carried the frightened creatures across the river to 
 the Tennessee side and put them ashore at Point Pleasant, 
 some two or three miles below New Madrid, and near Tip- 
 tonville. That was the last we saw of them. 
 
 The garrison of Island Number 10 also escaped, but some 
 five hundred of them were afterwards captured. I mention 
 this fact because these men composed the ten thousand 
 prisoners General Pope telegraphed Washington that he had 
 taken in his great victory. All the Northern newspapers 
 published this dispatch at the time and made such a hero of 
 Pope that he was shortly afterwards placed in command of 
 the Army of the Potomac, with what result history records. 
 
70 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 My brother-in-law, the late Brigadier-General R. C. Drum, 
 who was adjutant-general of the United States Army for 
 many years, told me that he had frequently seen that 
 dispatch in the archives of his ofhce, but some years after 
 he was retired. General Pope denied that such a paper 
 existed and dared the newspaper reporters to produce it. 
 They were allowed to search the archives, but it was not to 
 be found. 
 
 We lay for several days at anchor near Tiptonville, 
 expecting every moment that the Federal ironclads would 
 come down and attack us, but they did not put in an appear- 
 ance before we left. Nevertheless, we received a very un- 
 pleasant surprise one morning while we were at breakfast 
 when the cottonwood trees on the opposite side of the river 
 suddenly tumbled down and a long line of guns opened fire 
 on us. We got up our anchors as quickly as possible and 
 went into action, with the result that our flotilla suffered 
 considerably. The first disaster happened when a shell 
 burst in the pantry of the Livingston and smashed all of 
 Commander Pinckney's beautiful chinaware of which he 
 was very proud. The General Polk then received several 
 shells in her hull on the water line and was run ashore to 
 keep her from sinking, and the other boats were cut up con- 
 siderably, but running close in to the masked batteries the 
 grape and canister from our big guns caused the enemy 
 to limber up and disappear. Commodore Hollins said "the 
 campaign had taught him one thing and that was that gun- 
 boats were not fitted for chasing cavalry." 
 
 It was at Tiptonville that Commodore Hollins received a 
 message from the senior naval officer at New Orleans beg- 
 ging him to bring his gunboats as quickly as possible, as it 
 was certain that Admiral Farragut would soon try to dash 
 by Forts Jackson and St. Philip. No one knew the danger 
 better than the old commodore did. Ordering his flagship 
 to follow, he went on board of the fast Ivy accompanied by 
 his small aide, and we started at full speed for New Orleans. 
 
Fort Jackson under Bombardment 71 
 
 At Fort Pillow we stopped so that the commodore could 
 send a telegram to the Secretary of the Navy asking him to 
 order all the gunboats to follow him. I also carried a com- 
 munication to General Villapigue, the commander of Fort 
 Pillow, telling him of the fall of Island Number 10 and 
 New Madrid, and advising him to prepare for an attack by 
 the enemy's ironclads. We also stopped at Baton Rouge, 
 where I took ashore more telegrams for the Navy Depart- 
 ment at Richmond, for the capital had been removed to 
 that city by this time. The authorities at Richmond, like 
 swivel-chair naval strategists all over the world, differed 
 entirely with the naval officers as to what was best to be 
 done with the gunboats and never sent them any instruc- 
 tions at all. 
 
 Arriving at New Orleans, Commodore Hollins made his 
 headquarters at the old St. Charles Hotel, and I was imme- 
 diately sent down to the forts with a communication for 
 General Duncan, who was in command, in which the com- 
 modore asked the general where he would like the gun- 
 boats placed for the coming fight and suggesting the head 
 of the reach above the forts as the most effective position 
 for them to take up. 
 
 I found on my arrival that Fort Jackson was undergoing 
 a most terrific bombardment from Commander Porter's 
 mortar fleet which was hidden behind the trees around the 
 bend below. The air was full of shells and the fort was full 
 of smoke from their explosions. 
 
 Accompanying Commander Kennon, captain of the Gov- 
 ernor Moore, we crossed the bridge over the moat which was 
 the only means of access to the old-fashioned brick fortress. 
 As we walked a shell fell into the moat and gave us a dirty 
 shower bath, at the same time disturbing several large alli- 
 gators who lashed the water furiously with their tails. En- 
 tering through the sallyport we saw no one but a solitary 
 sentry, as the whole garrison was gathered in the casemates 
 to protect them from the mortar fire. The fort was filled 
 
72 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 with debris. However, we had a very pleasant dinner with 
 General Duncan, after which I returned to New Orleans. 
 
 I found the commodore busy with the preparations of 
 the Louisiana, a most marvelous craft shaped like a huge 
 square box. From her midship section aft she divided into 
 two hulls and between them were placed two paddlewheels, 
 one large and one small, the smaller one being placed in 
 front of the big ones, so as to insure the latter's working in 
 a mill-race when both were turning at the same time. On 
 her sides were iron rails for an armor. At her trial trip it 
 was found that it was with difficulty she kept up with the 
 current when going downstream, and when pointed up- 
 stream she was carried down at the rate of two or three 
 knots an hour. Towed back to the wharf, two engines from 
 little tugs were placed aboard, one in each of her sterns. 
 This increased power was not perceptible, and as she would 
 not steer, she was towed down the river and moored to the 
 bank where she served as an additional fort. 
 
 The other ironclad was a magnificent vessel. She had 
 real plates for her armor and they were of great thickness. 
 She had great power, having triple screws, and her battery 
 was to consist of eighteen of the heaviest guns. Had she 
 been completed in time, she would have been like a bull 
 in a china shop among Admiral Farragut's light wooden 
 sloops-of-war. But the great admiral knew as much about 
 her as we did and had no intention of postponing his attack 
 until she was finished. 
 
 Our gunboats from up the river had not arrived, — they 
 never did, — but instead were run into the various tribu- 
 taries of the lower Mississippi and destroyed by their own 
 crews. I cannot say that they would have stopped Admiral 
 Farragut's fleet, but their eighteen guns would have made 
 it more interesting for him when he passed the forts. 
 
 All was work and hurry preparing for the great fight when 
 one morning I went into the commodore's room and found 
 the old gentleman seated by his work-table holding a tele- 
 
Death of Captain Huger 73 
 
 gram in one hand while his head was bowed in evident dis- 
 tress. When he became aware of my presence he raised his 
 head and proffering the telegram said, " Read this." If the 
 message had been sent to a cabin boy it would have been 
 sufficiently curt to have wounded his feelings. It read: 
 " Report in Richmond in person and give an account of your 
 conduct" — signed, "S. R. Mallory, Secretary of the 
 Navy." On arriving at Richmond a court of inquiry on his 
 conduct was held, and as New Orleans had fallen, of course 
 he was acquitted. 
 
 Admiral Farragut's victory is a matter of history. The 
 McRae was in the thick of the fight. Her sides were riddled 
 and the heavy projectiles knocked her guns off the carriages 
 and rolled them along the deck crunching the dead and 
 wounded. Her deck was a perfect shambles. Captain Huger 
 was struck in the groin by a grapeshot and afterwards his 
 temple was laid open by a canister bullet. When taken 
 below he pleaded with Mr. Read, saying, " Mr. Read, don't 
 surrender my little ship. I have always promised myself 
 that I would fight her until she was under the water!" And 
 right gallantly did "Savez" Read keep his word to his 
 stricken captain, for when day broke the McRae was the 
 only thing afloat with the Confederate flag flying. Admiral 
 Farragut, with his flagship the Hartford, was by this time 
 at the Quarantine Station, about four miles above the forts. 
 Read sent the only boat he had that would float over to the 
 Hartford to tell Admiral Farragut the condition of his ves- 
 sel and the difliculty he was having to keep her afloat — 
 that he did not have a gun left on a carriage, and no one to 
 care for his dying captain or the many other wounded. 
 Admiral Farragut asked why he did not haul his flag down 
 and was told of the promise to the captain. Admiral Far- 
 ragut then sent word to Read to bring the McRae along- 
 side the Hartford, and then gave him permission to proceed 
 to New Orleans, saying that he would tell him there what 
 disposition he would make of the ship. When she arrived at 
 
74 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 New Orleans the McRae was leaking like a sieve; the ex- 
 hausted remnant of the crew refused to continue at the 
 pumps, and as the last wounded men were taken out of the 
 ship — down she went. 
 
 Admiral Dewey, the admiral of the United States Navy, 
 was a shipmate of Read's on board of the frigate Powhatan 
 when the war broke out, and at the battle of New Orleans 
 was the executive officer of the frigate Mississippi which was 
 afterwards sunk at Port Hudson. The admiral told me that 
 Read had not acted fairly about the sinking of the McRae 
 and escaping himself, as he had cut the sea-pipes to hasten 
 her foundering. But the McRae did not go down with her 
 flag flying, for just as her spanker gaff was about to disap- 
 pear beneath the muddy waters of the Mississippi, a boat 
 from one of the Federal men-of-war (already arrived oppo- 
 site the city) dashed up to the sinking ship and removed 
 the flag from its proud position at the peak. 
 
 Commodore Hollins I saw once again after the war was 
 over — it was at Charleston, South Carolina in 1867. This 
 fine old gentleman and able seaman, who had commanded 
 fleets in the United States Navy as well as in the Confed- 
 eracy, and who had been the honored guest of royalty, was 
 then in command of a miserable little coaster trading be- 
 tween Baltimore and Charleston. He died a few years 
 afterwards while holding the position of "crier" of a minor 
 court in Baltimore. A like fate was the lot of many of the 
 officers who resigned from the old navy to serve the Confed- 
 eracy. 
 
CHAPTER IX 
 
 Farragut's fleet at New Orleans — Mob threatens to kill his officers who 
 demand the surrender of the city — Farragut threatens to destroy the city if 
 a hair of their heads is hurt — Pierre Soule's hypnotic forefinger saves the 
 critical situation — I take to the swamp — The " Irreconcilable Home Guard " 
 — Reach General Lovell's camp at Amite — Reach Norfolk in time for the 
 evacuation — Richmond — The battle between the U.S. Ironclads Galena, 
 Monitor, and Naugatuck and Drewry's Bluff batteries — Battle of Seven 
 Pines (Fair Oaks) — Seven Days' Battle. 
 
 Admiral Farragut's fleet was anchored in line in front 
 of New Orleans. He sent Captain Bailey and his flag lieuten- 
 ant on shore to demand the surrender of the city. The 
 mayor received them at the Mint, a public building situ- 
 ated on Esplanade Street, near the river. I saw a great 
 crowd gather in front of the place of meeting and heard the 
 threats made that they were going to kill the Federal officers 
 when they came out. The mob little knew that the sailors 
 of the fleet were standing with lanyards in hand and that 
 the great guns were trained on the city as well as on them- 
 selves. They were also ignorant of the fact that Admiral 
 Farragut had sworn, if a hair on the heads of his officers 
 was hurt, he would not leave two stones on top of each 
 other in the city of New Orleans. 
 
 The mob, which was composed of men who had funked 
 going to the front, seemed determined to bring destruction 
 on themselves as well as on the innocent women and chil- 
 dren of the place. How to get the Federal officers out of the 
 building after the meeting and thus avoid disaster was the 
 question which agitated the city officials when Mr. Soul6, 
 formerly a United States Senator, and also United States 
 Minister to Spain, came to their rescue. He was the pos- 
 sessor of wonderful eloquence and a hypnotic forefinger. 
 He told the mayor that he believed he could hold the atten- 
 tion of the mob while the naval officers were passed out of 
 a back door. He appeared on the portico and was received 
 
76 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 with cheers. He raised his arm and that magic forefinger 
 commenced to tremble and there was instant silence. I 
 thought the finger would never stop trembling, but it was 
 evident that as long as it did so it fascinated the attention 
 of the crowd. I don't remember what he said, but I do 
 recollect that he commenced his speech with the words, 
 "Sons of Louisiana," when at last he broke the silence with 
 his wonderful and sonorous voice, which had a strong 
 French accent. Long before he had finished talking the 
 United States officers were safely back on board of the 
 Hartford. New Orleans never paid her debt to Mr. Soul6. 
 It is appalling to think of the havoc a few hundred bushels 
 of grapeshot scattered amongst that mob would have 
 wrought, to say nothing of the destruction of the old city. 
 
 Leaving the Mint, Mr. Sould proceeded to the telegraph 
 office and wired the provost marshal at Vicksburg to arrest 
 the Tift brothers, the contractors who had built the formid- 
 able ironclad Mississippi, charging them with treason for 
 having destroyed that vessel and ordering them to be con- 
 fined in prison. This order was carried out, although at the 
 time Mr. Soule occupied no office either civil or military 
 under the Confederacy, and despite the fact that Captain 
 St. Clair was on board of the same steamboat with the 
 Tifts when it arrived at Vicksburg and assured the provost 
 marshal that the Mississippi had been burned by his, St. 
 Clair's, orders when he found it impossible to tow her up 
 the river on account of her size, as he wished to prevent her 
 falling into the hands of the enemy. 
 
 I had neither ambition nor desire to take a trip North 
 or to spend an indefinite time in a Northern prison, so with 
 all speed I hied me unto the country behind the city, where 
 I found a train waiting on a siding, and with neither money 
 nor ticket and without invitation I boarded it without the 
 least idea of where I was going — and I did not care much 
 so long as my destination was outside of the limits of the 
 city where I was born. 
 
General Lovell's Camp ^^ 
 
 I found the train crowded with a lot of prosperous and 
 ponderous old gentlemen who were members of the "Home 
 Guard," clothed in every conceivable garb, except that of a 
 soldier — each one of them being hampered by a musket 
 which he did not know how to handle. They were all swear- 
 ing by a multitudinous variety of strange gods that death 
 was preferable to existence under the detested Yankee's 
 rule. At the first stop at Manchac Pass it was noticed that 
 their numbers perceptibly decreased, and after passing the 
 second station there was plenty of room in the coaches and 
 some people had even a whole seat to themselves. We 
 arrived at Amite, where I had once been at school, and we 
 detrained. General Lovell, who commanded the troops, 
 had determined to make this place his headquarters and 
 already there was quite a large camp there. The remnant of 
 the "Home Guard" stood the rigors of camp life for a day 
 or two, and then, deciding that the duty of a home guard 
 was to guard his home, silently and singly, without consult- 
 ing their superiors, they sneaked off to count how many 
 railroad ties there were between Amite and their home com- 
 forts. It was afterwards said that the wretched condition 
 of Napoleon's soldiers on the retreat from Moscow was not 
 a circumstance to the plight in which these fat old gentle- 
 men arrived at their comfortable mansions in New Orleans, 
 convinced that the killing of Yankees was work fitted only 
 for butchers. 
 
 We spent several days at Amite waiting for transporta- 
 tion farther north. I say "we," because on the train I had 
 met Commander Pegram and a number of naval ofHcers 
 who were to have been attached to the ill-fated Mississippi. 
 Among these officers was gallant Clarence Cary, who was 
 to become my lifelong friend, and Frank Dawson, who was 
 eventually to become my brother-in-law. These officers had 
 recently made a sensational dash through the blockade in 
 the Nashville, and they were now on their way to Norfolk for 
 further orders. A waif myself, I decided to join their party. 
 
78 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 The trains in the Confederacy were not allowed to run 
 faster than ten miles an hour, and the particular train on 
 which we traveled to Virginia broke down every few miles, 
 so 1 doubt if we even averaged that slow speed. There were 
 so many soldiers on the train that it was difficult to get 
 refreshments at the various little stations, and on this jour- 
 ney I had my first experience in going hungry for more than 
 twenty-four hours at a time, but as I was ill and suffering 
 from old-fashioned chills and fever, which I had contracted 
 on the lower Mississippi, I don't remember that I missed 
 the food greatly. 
 
 Arriving at Norfolk I parted with my compagtio?ts de 
 voyage and went on board of the Merrimac on which I knew 
 two of my old shipmates on the McRae were serving — 
 Lieutenant Eggleston and Midshipman Marmaduke. It 
 was only recently that the Merrimac had been engaged in 
 her great fights in Hampton Roads. I gazed with admiration 
 on the shot-holes in her armor and felt sure that she could 
 whip anything afloat, and I believe her officers and crew 
 thought so too. I little dreamed that before many hours 
 she was to be ingloriously destroyed by her own crew on 
 account of her drawing too much water to go up the James 
 River. 
 
 Mr. Eggleston advised me to go at once and report to 
 Captain Sidney Smith Lee, the elder brother of General 
 Robert E. Lee, who was in command of the naval station, 
 and ask him for orders. As I passed through the streets on 
 my way I saw many batteries of artillery and regiments of 
 infantry hurrying in one direction and accompanied by 
 trains of wagons. When I came into the presence of Captain 
 Lee, before I had a chance to say a word he demanded to 
 know what I was doing there. When I told him that I was 
 a fugitive from New Orleans, his whole manner changed 
 and he said, "You appear to be ill, sir." I replied, "Chills 
 and fever, sir." And the next moment he said, "You must 
 leave here at once; this place is being evacuated!" I asked 
 
Richmond 79 
 
 him where I should go, and he replied, "Any place so that 
 you get out of here." And then turning to a clerk he told 
 him to make out an order for transportation for me to 
 Richmond. 
 
 On my way to and at the station, I saw many queer 
 sights. There were orderly commands marching out of the 
 place and disorganized mobs of men in uniform who were 
 free from all restraint and discipline. At one place a gang 
 of men were trying to put a heavy piece of artillery on a 
 light spring wagon drawn by one horse! I don't think they 
 succeeded in doing it, but I did not wait to see the result of 
 their labors. At the station there was a crowd of civilians, 
 and piles of household goods; also many pretty and jolly 
 girls who seemed to regard the matter as a picnic devised to 
 amuse them. Government mules were being driven by in 
 droves scattering the crowd in every direction. There were 
 crates containing pigs and chickens blocking the way, and 
 everything seemed to be in inconceivable confusion — 
 infantrymen with arms, and infants in arms, jostling each 
 other. One poor old stout woman carrying her baby was 
 anxiously searching for her baggage and only found some- 
 body else's lost four-year-old boy who clung to her skirts 
 with such a grip that she could not shake him off. Every- 
 body was in a hurry to get to some place, but few seemed to 
 know what the name of the place was. 
 
 After a most uncomfortable journey I arrived in Rich- 
 mond. I had noticed in Norfolk that people looked at me 
 askance, if not with real enmity expressed in their glances in 
 my direction, but that was nothing In comparison to the gruff 
 way I was treated in Richmond if I dared ask a stranger to 
 direct me on my way. It did not take me long to find out 
 the cause — it was my blue uniform with the United States 
 naval buttons. The gray uniform for naval officers had not 
 reached New Orleans before its fall, but the blue was an 
 unusual sight in Richmond except when it was worn by a 
 Union soldier who was a prisoner. I was told that but for 
 
8o Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 my youth and small stature I might have been roughly 
 handled. However, I soon got rid of the hated blue, as I 
 had a little money due me and had the good fortune to meet 
 Paymaster Semple, a son-in-law of ex-President Tyler, with 
 whom I had been shipmates for a time on board of the Mc- 
 Rae. He advanced me on my pay and I was soon arrayed in 
 gray like the rest. 
 
 I was a very lonely little boy in Richmond for a few days. 
 Louisiana was farther away in those days than it is in these 
 of fast express trains, and somehow I was made to feel as 
 though I was a foreigner. I suppose that was on account of 
 our accent being different from that of other Southerners. 
 It was only a few years ago in Washington when I was in- 
 troduced to a Southern lady, my only recommendation being 
 that I was a Confederate veteran, that she looked at me 
 doubtfully and said, "Mr. Morgan, I can't believe that you 
 are a Southerner; you neither look nor talk like any South- 
 erner I ever met before." I replied, "Madam, I can assure 
 you that had I been born any farther south than I was, I 
 would have had to come into this world either as a pom- 
 pino or a soft-shell crab, for the hard ground stops where 
 I was born in the southern part of Louisiana!" 
 
 When I received my orders they were to the naval battery 
 at Drewry's Bluff, seven miles below Richmond on the 
 James River — a place of great natural strength. Pits were 
 dug, wooden platforms were built at the bottom of them, 
 and the guns were mounted on navy carriages with all their 
 blocks and tackle such as were used on board of the men-of- 
 war of that day. It was manned by sailors principally from 
 the gallant crew of the Merrimac. The river had been bar- 
 ricaded by sinking in the channel the ocean-going steamship 
 Jamestown and several steamboats besides crates made of 
 logs and filled with stone, leaving only a narrow passage- 
 way for our own boats. It was while there that I witnessed 
 a most magnificent exhibition of coolness and nerve — 
 Commander John Rodgers, U.S.N., had been ordered to 
 
Ironclads and Drewry's Bluff Batteries 8i 
 
 test the new ironclad under his command to find out whether 
 she was shot-proof or not. Her name was the Galena. 
 
 It was about eight o'clock on the morning of the i6th of 
 May, 1862, that we saw a squadron consisting of the Galena, 
 the original Monitor (the one that fought the Merrimac), 
 the ironclad Naugatuck, and two wooden gunboats coming 
 up the river, and our drums beat to quarters while we rushed 
 to our stations at the guns. Neither Commander Farrand, 
 who commanded at Drewry's Bluff, nor Commander Rodg- 
 ers, who commanded the Federal squadron, seemed in any 
 hurry to open fire, so we in the battery waited patiently 
 at our silent guns while the Galena came up to within four 
 hundred yards of us accompanied by the Monitor, the rest 
 of the squadron remaining below the bend seeking its pro- 
 tection from our plunging fire. The Monitor also dropped 
 below, as her flat decks made her particularly vulnerable. 
 The Galena quietly and peacefully, as though no enemy 
 was within miles of her, let go her anchor. She then got out 
 a hawser which sailors call a "spring," and made it fast 
 to her anchor chain. Paying out her cable she swung across 
 the stream, which brought her broadside to bear on us. 
 Down the river-bank, hidden by the bushes, were two or 
 three thousand Confederate infantrymen. 
 
 Commander Rodgers was most leisurely in his move- 
 ments. At last he fired a shot to get our range; there were 
 no range-finders in those days, and it could only be found 
 by experiment. That gun was the signal for the fun to com- 
 mence. It was not necessary for us to find the range, as 
 from our great height we had only to fire down on him; 
 our guns were depressed to such an extent that we had to 
 put grommets of rope over our round projectiles to keep 
 them from rolling out of the muzzles. The shot from the 
 Galena was our signal to open fire, and for three hours we 
 were at it hammer and tongs. The Galena was perforated 
 twenty-two times without counting the shots which struck 
 her without going through her armor. The riflemen on the 
 
82 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 river-bank fairly rained bullets at her portholes, one of 
 which became jammed, and when a sailor put his arm out- 
 side in an attempt to free it, the limb fell into the river 
 amputated by musket balls. The wooden gunboats around 
 the bend also suffered the loss of several men. 
 
 Although we were supposed to be safe in our covered gun 
 pits perched so high on the bluff, all had not been cakes and 
 ale with us. Several men had been killed and wounded; 
 among them my classmate at Annapolis, Midshipman 
 Carroll, of Maryland, had been literally cut in two by a 
 shell. 
 
 When Commander Rodgers had satisfied himself that the 
 Galena was not shot-proof, he weighed his anchor as delib- 
 erately as though he was about to leave a friendly port, and 
 dropped slowly and in a most dignified way down the river. 
 He had lost many men in killed and wounded. Commander 
 Rodgers, in his report to the Secretary of the Navy, says: 
 "The result of our experiment with the Galena I enclose. 
 We demonstrated that she is not shot-proof; balls came 
 through and many men were killed with fragments of her 
 own iron. . . . The Galena should be repaired before send- 
 ing her to sea." 
 
 Sailors are a generous lot and admire gallantry whether 
 shown by friend or foe, and the men in the gun pits at 
 Drewry's Bluff gave hearty cheers for the Galena as she 
 drew out of action. * 
 
 Historians seem to be Ignorant concerning the impor- 
 tance of this fight. At the time there was nothing between 
 Richmond and the Federal squadron but the guns of 
 Drewry's Bluff. A passage had purposely been left through 
 the obstructions in the river for our own boats and it was 
 sufficiently wide and deep for the Federal vessels to have 
 passed through. McClellan's army was within a few miles 
 of the capital, and if Commander Rodgers's squadron had 
 not been stopped by the naval battery there was nothing 
 else to prevent them from going on to Richmond. 
 
U.S. IRONCLAD GALENA 
 
 J 
 
 <ilff?Wh..i 
 
 
 •i 
 
 rSjL4teM^>>h*ik 
 
 Y 
 
 
 ^ \e,o\. 
 
 C.S. IRONCLAD CHICORA 
 On which the author served at Charleston 
 
Battle of Seven Pines 83 
 
 General Joe Johnston's army was now at Richmond, 
 and I obtained a short leave to go to the city to see my 
 brother George who was a captain and acting quartermas- 
 ter in Blanchard's Louisiana brigade. I accompanied him 
 to the front and found many friends among the Louisiana 
 boys. There was with the brigade a light battery, in which 
 there were many young men from Baton Rouge, and one 
 day, while a number of us were sitting at the foot of a large 
 tree, in fancied security, and watching a captive balloon 
 belonging to the enemy, bullets began to rattle against the 
 trunk of the tree, and we got away from there as quickly as 
 possible. Horses were rapidly hitched to the caissons, the 
 guns were limbered up, and the battery dashed off to an- 
 other part of the field. The picket firing by that time had 
 increased until it had become a constant rattle sounding 
 somewhat like the roll of hundreds of snare drums. 
 
 Blanchard's brigade was in Huger's division on the ex- 
 treme right of our army. I made my way to the camp of 
 the First Louisiana, which I found under arms. Their part 
 in the battle of Seven Pines, or Fair Oaks, as the Federals 
 called It, had begun. The regiment advanced and I followed 
 on behind until suddenly I saw an officer riding up to where 
 General Blanchard and his staff were seated on their horses. 
 Before he reached them his horse suddenly reared and in 
 that instant I recognized my brother. The horse fell dead, 
 and when I came up I found he was lying on one of George's 
 legs and that George could not extricate himself. It was a 
 big undertaking for me, but I managed to move the fore 
 shoulder of that horse far enough to free my brother. He 
 was quite severely hurt and had to be removed to the rear. 
 That was all I saw of the battle of Seven Pines. Could I 
 have seen what was going on on the other side, I should 
 have beheld my dear cousin. Colonel A. S. M. Morgan, 
 being borne off the field — shot through both hips, while 
 gallantly leading his regiment, the Second Pennsylvania. 
 
 I accompanied my brother to Richmond where he was 
 
84 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 carried to the most fashionable hostelry in the city, the 
 old Spotswood Hotel, and I remained there for several days 
 with him. The doors of the bedrooms on the corridors were 
 mostly kept open and it seemed to me that a game of poker 
 was going on in every room. The lobby of the hotel was 
 crowded with officers, most of whom carried an arm in a 
 sling. The cause of this was the wearing of the flaring gold 
 chevrons on their sleeves to indicate their rank. They 
 made beautiful targets for the sharpshooters; but not for 
 long, as later in the war even generals wore only three small 
 stars on their coat- collars. 
 
 Passing through the lobby one morning I met an old 
 acquaintance, a Louisiana Zouave, dressed in red Turkish 
 trousers with a short blue jacket elaborately trimmed with 
 yellow braid — of course he too had an arm in a sling. He 
 stopped me and asked if I had seen the "zoozoo" fight — 
 he was very enthusiastic and very excitable. "Oh!" said 
 he, in broken English, "You ought to see ze zoozoo fight. 
 Colonel Copin he draw his long sabre and say, 'Charge!* 
 We charge and we charge right on top ze Yankee breast- 
 work ; Yankee drop down and say ' quatta ! ' ' quatta ! * I say, 
 *No quatta fer Bootla [Butler]: I stick he wid de bay- 
 onette!'" Those Acadians imagined that they were only 
 engaged in a holy crusade against the tyrant of New 
 Orleans. 
 
 My brother George thought that a little trip to the hills 
 would benefit my health, and as he had heard that "Stone- 
 wall" Jackson's division was at Gordonsville, he furnished 
 me with the means to go there where I would be with my 
 brother Gibbes, then a captain in the Seventh Louisiana 
 Regiment. I found him flushed with victory, having just 
 returned from the marvelous Shenandoah Valley campaign 
 in which Jackson had fought so many battles in so few 
 weeks, and he seemed very proud to belong to Jackson's 
 "foot cavalry." To my great delight I found my brother's 
 young and beautiful wife with him. It was no uncommon 
 
At Drewry's Bluff 85 
 
 thing at that time for the wives of officers to follow their 
 husbands so as to be near the battle-fields. Unfortunately 
 for me, my pleasure at being with my favorite brother and 
 his wife was of short duration, as in a few hours after my 
 arrival in Gordonsville, Jackson's "foot cavalry" moved 
 on, and I returned to Richmond. 
 
 On my arrival in Richmond I saw several thousand Union 
 prisoners, guarded by Confederates, seated on the ground, 
 resting themselves. Few if any of them could speak English 
 and the most accomplished linguists among them could 
 only say, "I fights mit Sigel." 
 
 At Drewry's Bluff we lived in tents and were very com- 
 fortable. Parties composed of ladies and gentlemen would 
 frequently visit the Bluff and they made it quite gay; be- 
 sides, by this time, quite a large number of midshipmen 
 were stationed there and they made it lively for their 
 superior officers as well as for themselves. I had while there 
 an interesting experience in steering the boat from which 
 Commander Matthew F. Maury buoyed the places in the 
 river where he afterwards had placed what were probably 
 the first floating mines used in war. We called them "spar 
 torpedoes" as the mines were attached to an anchored and 
 floating spar. 
 
 I shall never forget a very unpleasant hour in connection 
 with these mines. Colonel Page, a former officer of the 
 navy, who looked to be about seven feet high, wanted to 
 go from Drewry's Bluff to Chapin's Bluff, a fortification 
 that he commanded, on the opposite side of the river and 
 about a mile below. I was ordered to take charge of the 
 boat that was to take him to his post because it was sup- 
 posed I knew where the mines were. It was a dark night, 
 but we got on all right for some distance. Suddenly the 
 side of the boat grated against something and the boat 
 slightly careened. Colonel Page, whose sobriquet in the 
 navy was "Ramrod" on account of his erect bearing, and 
 who was well known in the service as a very strict disci- 
 
86 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 plinarian, exclaimed, "What Is that? — I thought you knew 
 where the torpedoes were." "Yes, sir," I replied, "that 
 is one of them." There was silence in the boat until we 
 reached the little wharf at Chapin's Bluff, and when Colonel 
 Page disembarked he expressed his opinion of me and my 
 professional accomplishments in language which left noth- 
 ing for the imagination to work on. Had the boat been a 
 little heavier we should all have gone to heaven by the most 
 direct route. 
 
 "Stonewall" Jackson's army came down from the Valley 
 and joined General Lee. I went over to the camp of the 
 Seventh Louisiana to see my brother Gibbes, and while I 
 did not participate in any of the battles of the "Seven 
 Days," I saw some of the fighting. One day McClellan sent 
 an ammunition train, with a fuse attached to it, down the 
 railroad tracks — of course it was running "wild." Jack- 
 son's division, thinking that it carried reinforcements, 
 rushed for the railroad intending to fire into it as it passed, 
 but while they were some distance away the train exploded 
 destroying many windows in Richmond, several miles away. 
 For two or three days after the explosion a negro boy who 
 waited on my brother and the officers of his company was 
 not to be found. This boy had always bragged that in 
 action he was to the front, and continually boasted about 
 the number of Yankees he had killed. When he finally 
 turned up and was asked the meaning of his long absence, 
 he replied: "Mass' Gibbes, I stood their shot and shell and 
 bullets, but when it came to shootin' a whole train of cars 
 at one poor nigger I tell you de truf, sah, I done lit out right 
 dar and den!" 
 
 At this time I had been detached from Drewry's Bluff 
 and was on board of the gunboat Beaufort, a small river 
 tug about forty feet long and carrying one small gun on her 
 forecastle; her complement consisted of two officers and 
 eight men — she was crowded. This little boat had covered 
 
Naval Discipline 87 
 
 herself all over with glory when the Merrimac sank the frig- 
 ates Congress and Cumberland. The Beaufort was then 
 commanded by Lieutenant William H. Parker, and it was 
 to the Beaufort that the Congress surrendered. She was 
 now commanded by Lieutenant Sharp, who had many 
 other duties to attend to at the ordnance works and else- 
 where, so that he was very little on board his ship(?). 
 
 We were lying alongside the river-bank at Rockett's (the 
 lower end of Richmond) one day, when my brother Gibbes 
 made me a visit. We were cozily chatting about home when 
 a quartermaster poked his head in at the little cabin door 
 and, saluting, said, ''Jurgenson has come aboard, sir." I 
 replied, "Very good, quartermaster." The man then said, 
 "Jurgenson is drunk and noisy, sir." I said, "Tell Jurgen- 
 son to turn into his bunk and keep quiet." There was an 
 awful din going on forward and the quartermaster came 
 back and reported that the man would not keep quiet. "All 
 right," I said, "tell the master-at-arms to put him in double 
 irons and gag and buck him unless he stops his racket." 
 The quartermaster saluted and again withdrew. Gibbes 
 looked at me with amazement and asked me if it was possi- 
 ble that a little boy like myself had authority to order such 
 severe punishment. I told him that I was not a little boy 
 on that boat, but for the moment I was her commanding 
 officer. He then expressed doubts as to whether the master- 
 at-arms would obey the order and wanted me to go outside 
 with him and see. I declined, on the ground that it might 
 look as though I doubted if my orders would be carried 
 out, and Gibbes went forward to see for himself. He came 
 back shortly shaking his head and said that he must return 
 to his command, as he wanted to tell the boys what he had 
 seen that day. I tried to make him understand that I had 
 not indulged in any cruelty on my own part, but that in the 
 navy every misdemeanor had its punishment set forth in 
 the Regulations and that I was liable to punishment myself 
 if I did not carry out the orders. I told him that Jurgenson 
 
88 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 was an old man-of-warsman and knew as well if not better 
 than I what was going to happen if he did not obey the 
 order to keep silence and behave himself. I could not make 
 Gibbes believe that I was very fond of old Jurgenson; that 
 he was one of the best men in the ship, and that he would 
 have lost all respect for me if I had not carried out the disci' 
 pline of the service ; that I was going to have the gag taken 
 out of his mouth as soon as he stopped yelling. It was all of 
 no avail, my gallant volunteer brother left, still shaking his 
 head and repeating, "I must go back and tell my boys 
 what I have seen this day." That was the last time I 
 ever saw my brother. 
 
CHAPTER X 
 
 Charleston — Commodore Ingraham — C. S. Ironclad Chicora — The loot- 
 ing of my home in Baton Rouge — George Hollins dies of yellow fever — The 
 Honorable George A. Trenholm — Naval officers " never unbutton their coats" 
 — Ordered abroad. 
 
 With all my State pride, I must acknowledge that the 
 article of chills and fever handed to me on the James River 
 was superior to the brand on the lower Mississippi, and, 
 complicated by chronic dysentery, so sapped my strength 
 that the doctor ordered me to show myself at the Navy 
 Department and ask for orders to some other station. 
 Commodore French Forrest was chief of the Bureau of 
 "Orders and Detail," and I really thought he had some 
 sympathy for my condition when he looked me over. He 
 asked me where I would like to be ordered to, and I quickly 
 said that I would be delighted if I was sent to the naval 
 battery at Port Hudson. The commodore then asked if I 
 had relatives near there, and on my assuring him that my 
 mother and sisters were refugees and were staying at the 
 plantation of General Carter, only a few miles distant, he 
 turned to a clerk and said, " Make out an order for Mid- 
 shipman Morgan to report to Commodore Ingraham at 
 Charleston, South Carolina. I don't believe in having young 
 officers tied to their mothers' apron strings." — And so to 
 Charleston I went. 
 
 Commodore Ingraham, to whom I reported, was the man 
 who some years previously, when in command of the little 
 sloop-of-war St. Louis in the port of Smyrna, had bluffed 
 an Austrian frigate and compelled her to surrender Martin 
 Koszta, a naturalized American citizen, whom they held 
 as a prisoner. This act made Ingraham the idol of the peo- 
 ple at that time; if repeated in this day (191 6), it would 
 cost an officer his commission. Commodore Ingraham also 
 
90 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 commanded the Confederate gunboats when they drove 
 the Federal blockading fleet away from Charleston. 
 
 I was assigned to the Chicora, a little ironclad that was 
 being built between two wharves which served as a navy 
 yard. She was not nearly completed, so I was forced to 
 hunt for quarters on shore. Being directed to a miserable 
 boarding-house which was fourth-rate, and consequently 
 supposed to be cheap, I found that the cheapest board to be 
 had was at the rate of forty-five dollars a month, so I did 
 not see exactly how I could manage it, as my shore pay was 
 only forty. However, the generous hotel proprietor, when 
 the situation was explained, consented to let me stay for 
 that sum on condition that I would make up the other five 
 dollars if my friends at home sent me any money. The man 
 was certainly taking a long chance for that extra five dol- 
 lars. Where were my friends, and where was my home? 
 My mother and sisters were refugees ; and as for home — 
 the following extract from Mrs. McHattan-Ripley's book 
 "From Flag to Flag" will give some idea of its condition. 
 Mrs. McHattan lived on a plantation about three miles 
 below Baton Rouge and after the battle visited the town. 
 She says: — 
 
 At last I descended and walked the dusty, littered, shadeless 
 streets from square to square. Seeing the front door of the late 
 Judge Morgan's house thrown wide open, and knowing that his 
 widow and daughters, after asking protection for their property 
 of the commanding general, had left before the battle, I entered. 
 No words can tell the scene that those deserted rooms presented. 
 The grand portraits, heirlooms of that aristocratic family, — men 
 of the Revolutionary period, high-bred dames of a long-past 
 generation, in short bodices, puffed sleeves, towering head- 
 dresses, and quaint golden chains, ancestors long since dead, not 
 only valuable as likenesses that could not be duplicated, but 
 acknowledged works of art, — these portraits hung from the walls, 
 slashed by swords clear across from side to side, stabbed and 
 mutilated in every brutal way! The contents of store-closets had 
 been poured over the floors; molasses and vinegar and everything 
 that defaces and stains had been smeared over the walls and fur- 
 
George Hollins 91 
 
 niture. Upstairs, armoires with mirror-doors had been smashed 
 in with heavy axes or hammers, and the dainty dresses of the 
 young ladies torn and crushed with studied, painstaking maHg- 
 nity, while china, toilet articles, and bits of glass that ornamented 
 the rooms were thrown upon the beds and broken and ground into 
 a mass of fragments. Desks were wrenched open, and the con- 
 tents scattered, not only through the house; but out upon the 
 streets, to be wafted in all directions; parts of their private letters 
 as well as letters from the desks of other violated homes, and 
 family records torn from numberless Bibles, were found on the 
 sidewalks of the town, and even on the public roads beyond town 
 limits. 
 
 Lieutenant Warley, with whom I had served on the 
 McRae, was the only living human being I knew in Charles- 
 ton, and the great difference in our rank, as well as age, 
 precluded the possibility of my making a companion of him; 
 so, a lonely boy, I roamed the streets of the quaint old city. 
 Evidently the war as yet had had no effect on the style kept 
 up by the old blue-bloods, for I was amazed to see hand- 
 some equipages, with coachmen in livery on the box, driving 
 through the town. Little did their owners dream that before 
 very long those same fine horses would be hauling artillery 
 and commissary wagons, and those proud liveried servants 
 would be at work with pick and spade throwing up breast- 
 works ! 
 
 To my great delight, George Hollins, a son of my dearly 
 loved old commodore, a boy of about my own age with 
 whom I had been shipmate on the Mississippi River, 
 arrived in town, and the boarding-house man consented to 
 allow him to share my little room at the same rate charged 
 me. George had been in Charleston only a few days when 
 yellow fever became epidemic. It was the latter part of 
 August and the heat was something fearful. I had no fear 
 of the fever, as I had been accustomed to its frequent visits 
 to my old home, but with Hollins, a native of Baltimore, it 
 was different. 
 
 One afternoon he came into our room and complained of 
 
92 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 a headache and a pain in his back. The symptoms were 
 familiar to me, so I persuaded him to go to bed and covered 
 him with the dirty rag of a blanket. I then went quickly 
 downstairs and asked the wife of the proprietor to let me 
 have some hot water for a footbath and also to give me a 
 little mustard. The woman was shocked at my presump- 
 tion, but consented to give me the hot water; at parting with 
 the mustard she demurred. As I was about to leave her 
 kitchen she demanded to know what I wanted with hot 
 water, and when I told her that my friend had the yellow 
 fever, there was a scene in which she accused me of trying 
 to ruin the reputation of the house and threatened me with 
 dire punishment from her husband. 
 
 I made Hollins put his feet in the hot water and then I 
 went to a near-by druggist, telling him the situation, and 
 asking him if he would credit me for the mustard, explaining 
 that neither Hollins nor myself had any money. The kindly 
 apothecary gave me the mustard and told me I could have 
 any medicines needed, and also advised me to go at once 
 and see Dr. Lebby, who, he was sure, would attend to the 
 case without charge. The doctor came and did all that was 
 possible. Poor George grew rapidly worse; he seemed to 
 cling to me as his only friend, and could not bear to have 
 me leave him for an instant. We slept that night huddled 
 up together in the narrow bed. 
 
 The next morning a strange negro man, very well dressed, 
 and carrying a bunch of flowers in one hand and a bundle in 
 the other, entered the room and proceeded to make himself 
 very much at home. When asked what his business was, he 
 said he was a yellow-fever nurse. I told him that we had 
 no money and could not pay a nurse, at which he burst into 
 a broad grin and said that he did not want any money ; that 
 he belonged to Mr. Trenholm who had sent him there. 
 Throughout the day all sorts of delicacies continued to 
 arrive, and to every inquiry as to whom they came from, 
 the reply was, "Mr. Trenholm." 
 
HON. GEORGE A. TRENHOLM 
 Secretary of the Confederate States Treasury 
 
Death of George Hollins 93 
 
 The second night of his illness George was taken with 
 the black vomit, which, as I held him in my arms, saturated 
 my clothes. A shiver passed through his frame and without 
 a word he passed away. Leaving my friend's body in charge 
 of the nurse I went in search of Lieutenant Warley, and he 
 told me not to worry about his funeral, as Mr. Trenholm 
 would make all the arrangements. This Mr. Trenholm, 
 unknown to me, seemed to be my providence, as well as 
 being all-powerful. George Hollins was buried in the 
 beautiful Magnolia Cemetery and immediately after the fu- 
 neral Mr. Warley told me that I was not to go back to the 
 boarding-house, but was for the present to share his room 
 at the Mills House, a fashionable hotel. 
 
 A few days after the funeral I was walking down Broad 
 Street with Mr. Warley and we saw coming toward us a 
 tall and very handsome man with silvery hair. Mr. Warley 
 told me that he was Mr. Trenholm, and that I must thank 
 him for all his kindness to my friend. Mr. Trenholm said 
 that he was only sorry that he could not have done more 
 for the poor boy, and, turning to the lieutenant, said: 
 "Warley, can't you let this young gentleman come and stay 
 at my house? There are some young people there, and we 
 will try and make it pleasant for him." 
 
 I thanked Mr. Trenholm and told him that I had re- 
 cently been sleeping in the same bed with my friend, who 
 had died of the most virulent form of yellow fever, and of 
 course I could not go into anybody's house for some time 
 to come; but the generous gentleman assured me that his 
 family had no fears of the fever and insisted on my accept- 
 ing his kind invitation. However, I did not think it right to 
 go, and did not accept at that time; a day or two afterwards, 
 however, I again met him with Mr. Warley, and he said, 
 "Warley, I am sorry this young gentleman won't accept 
 my invitation: we would try to make it pleasant for him." 
 Mr. Warley turned to me, saying, "Youngster, you pack 
 your bag and go up to Mr. Trenholm's house." 
 
94 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 That settled it and I went, arriving at the great mansion 
 shortly before the dinner hour. I did not, however, take a 
 bag with me. If I had owned one, I would not have had any- 
 thing to put in it. 
 
 I will not attempt to describe Mr. Trenholm's beautiful 
 home. For more than half a century now it has been pointed 
 out to tourists as one of the show places of Charleston, and 
 it has long since passed into the hands of strangers. I must 
 confess that as I opened the iron gate and walked through 
 the well-kept grounds to the front door I was a little awed 
 by the imposing building, with its great columns supporting 
 the portico. I could not but feel some misgivings as to the 
 reception I would get, stranger as I was, from the family 
 whom I had never met. Still, I did not dare run away, and 
 so I timidly rang the bell. A slave, much better dressed 
 than myself, and with the manners of a Chesterfield, ap- 
 peared and showed me into the parlors; it was all very 
 grand, but very lonely, as there was no one there to receive 
 me. I took a seat and made myself comfortable ; it had been 
 a long time since I had sat on a luxurious sofa. In a few 
 minutes two young ladies entered the room. Of course I 
 had never seen either of them before, but the idea instantly 
 flashed through my mind that I was going to marry the 
 taller of the two, who advanced toward me and introduced 
 herself as "Miss Trenholm." 
 
 Soon there arrived a Frenchman, a Colonel Le Mat, the 
 inventor of the "grapeshot revolver," a horrible contrap- 
 tion, the cylinder of which revolved around a section of a 
 gun barrel. The cylinder contained ten bullets, and the 
 grapeshot barrel was loaded with buckshot which, when 
 fired, would almost tear the arm off a man with its recoil. 
 Le Mat's English vocabulary was limited, and his only sub- 
 ject of conversation was his invention, so he used me to ex- 
 plain to the young ladies how the infernal machine worked. 
 Now that sounds all very easy, but one must remember that 
 Le Mat was a highly imaginative Gaul and insisted on 
 
Coats never unbuttoned 95 
 
 posing me to illustrate his lecture. This was embarrassing 
 — especially as he considered it polite to begin all over 
 again as each new guest entered the room. At last relief 
 came when Mr. Trenholm came in with a beautiful lady, 
 well past middle age, leaning on his arm; and I was intro- 
 duced to my hostess, whose kind face and gentle manner 
 put me at my ease at once. 
 
 Oh, but it was a good dinner I sat down to that day! 
 After all these years the taste of the good things lingers in 
 my memory and I can almost smell the "aurora," as Boat- 
 swain Miller used to call the aroma, of the wonderful old 
 madeira. It was in the month of September and the 
 weather was intensely hot ; I had my heavy cloth uniform 
 coat buttoned closely, and only the rim of my celluloid collar 
 showed above. Dinner over, we assembled in the drawing- 
 room where we were enjoying music, when suddenly I 
 found myself in a most embarrassing position. Dear, kind 
 Mrs. Trenholm was the cause of it. Despite my protesta- 
 tions that naval officers were never allowed to open their 
 uniform coats, she insisted, as it was so warm, that I should 
 unbutton mine and be comfortable. Unbutton that coat! 
 Never! I would have died first. I had no shirt under that 
 coat; I did not own one. 
 
 When bedtime arrived, Mr, Trenholm escorted me to a 
 handsomely furnished room. What a sleep I had that night 
 between those snow-white sheets, and what a surprise there 
 was in the morning when I opened my eyes and saw a man- 
 servant putting studs and cuff-buttons in a clean white 
 shirt. On a chair there lay a newly pressed suit of civilian 
 togs. I assured the man that he had made a mistake, but 
 he told me he had orders from his mistress and that all those 
 things and the contents of a trunk he had brought into the 
 room were for me, adding that they had belonged to his 
 young "Mass' Alfred," a boy of about my own age, whose 
 health had broken down in the army and who had been 
 sent abroad. I wanted the servant to leave the room so I 
 
96 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 could rise. I was too modest to get out of bed in his pres- 
 ence and too diffident to ask him to leave; but at last re- 
 flected that everybody must know that I had no shirt, so I 
 jumped up and tumbled into a bath, and when the "body- 
 servant" had arrayed me in those fine clothes I hardly 
 knew myself. 
 
 After breakfast two horses were brought to the front of 
 the house, one, with a lady's saddle was called "Gypsy" 
 and was one of the most beautiful Arabs I ever saw (and I 
 have seen many) ; the other, a grand chestnut, called " Jonce 
 Hooper," one of the most famous race-horses on the South- 
 ern turf when the war commenced. He had been bought by 
 Colonel William Trenholm, my host's eldest son, for a 
 charger, but Colonel Trenholm soon found that the pam- 
 pered racer was too delicate for rough field work in time of 
 war. Miss Trenholm and I mounted these superb animals 
 and that morning and many mornings afterwards we went 
 for long rides. In the afternoons I would accompany the 
 young ladies in a landau drawn by a superb pair of bays 
 with two men on the box. Just at that time the life of a 
 Confederate midshipman did not seem to be one of great 
 hardship to me; but my life of ease and luxury was fast 
 drawing to an end. 
 
 In the evenings the family and their friends used to sit 
 on the big porch where tea, cakes, and ice cream were 
 served, and the gentlemen could smoke if they felt so in- 
 clined. One day the distinguished Commodore Matthew F. 
 Maury, who was on his way to Europe to fit out Confeder- 
 ate cruisers, dined at the house, and after dinner, with Mr. 
 Trenholm, had joined the gay party on the piazza. Mr. 
 Trenholm was the head of the firm of Fraser, Trenholm & 
 Co., of Liverpool and Charleston, financial agents of the 
 Confederate Government. Suddenly Mr. Trenholm came 
 over to where I was laughing and talking with a group of 
 young people, and asked me if I would like to go abroad 
 and join a cruiser. I told him that nothing would delight 
 
Ordered Abroad 97 
 
 me more, but that those details were for officers who had 
 distinguished themselves, or who had influence, and that as 
 I had not done the one thing and did not possess the other 
 requisite, I could stand no possible chance of being ordered 
 to go. Mr. Trenholm said that was not the question; he 
 wanted to know if I really wished to go. On being assured 
 that I would give anything to have the chance, he returned 
 to Commodore Maury and resumed his conversation about 
 the peculiarities of the "Gulf Stream." 
 
 Imagine my surprise the next morning when, after return- 
 ing from riding, I was handed a telegram, the contents of 
 which read: "Report to Commodore M. F. Maury for duty 
 abroad. Mr. Trenholm will arrange for your passage"; 
 signed, "S. R. Mallory, Secretary of the Navy." It fairly 
 took my breath away! 
 
CHAPTER XI 
 
 Run through the U.S. blockading fleet — Out of our reckoning — Bermuda 
 — Blockade-runners throw money into the street — Commodore Wilkes's 
 famous ship San Jacinto gives us a scare — Halifax — Sail for England in 
 company with some of Her Majesty's Life Guardsmen. 
 
 Mr. Trenholm owned many blockade-runners — one of 
 them, the little light-draft steamer Herald, was lying in 
 Charleston Harbor loaded with cotton and all ready to 
 make an attempt to run through the blockading fleet. 
 Commodore Maury, accompanied by his little son, a boy 
 of twelve years of age, and myself, whom he had designated 
 as his aide-de-camp for the voyage, went on board after 
 bidding good-bye to our kind friends. About ten o'clock at 
 night we got under way and steamed slowly down the har- 
 bor, headed for the sea. The moon was about half full, 
 but heavy clouds coming in from the ocean obscured it. 
 We passed between the great lowering forts of Moultrie 
 and Sumter and were soon on the bar, when suddenly there 
 was a rift in the clouds, through which the moon shone 
 brightly, and there, right ahead of us, we plainly saw a big 
 sloop-of-war! 
 
 There was no use trying to hide. She also had seen us, 
 and the order, " Hard-a-starboard ! " which rang out on 
 our boat was nearly drowned by the roar of the warship's 
 great guns. The friendly clouds closed again and obscured 
 the moon, and we rushed back to the protecting guns of 
 the forts without having had our paint scratched. Two or 
 three more days were passed delightfully in Charleston; 
 then there came a drizzling rain and on the night of the 9th 
 of October, 1862, we made another attempt to get through 
 the blockade. All lights were out except the one in the cov- 
 ered binnacle protecting the compass. Not a word was 
 spoken save by the pilot, who gave his orders to the man 
 
Out of our Reckoning 99 
 
 at the wheel in whispers. Captain Coxetter, who com- 
 manded the Herald, had previously commanded the priva- 
 teer Jeff Davis, and had no desire to be taken prisoner, as 
 he had been proclaimed by the Federal Government to be 
 a pirate and he was doubtful about the treatment he would 
 receive if he fell into the enemy's hands. He was convinced 
 that the great danger in running the blockade was in his 
 own engine-room, so he seated himself on the ladder leading 
 down to it and politely informed the engineer that if the 
 engine stopped before he was clear of the fleet, he, the engi- 
 neer, would be a dead man. As Coxetter held in his hand 
 a Colt's revolver, this sounded like no idle threat. Pres- 
 ently I heard the whispered word passed along the deck 
 that we were on the bar. This information was imme- 
 diately followed by a series of bumps as the little ship rose 
 on the seas, which were quite high, and then plunging 
 downward, hit the bottom, causing her to ring like an old 
 tin pan. However, we safely bumped our way across the 
 shallows, and, plunging and tossing in the gale, this little 
 cockleshell, whose rail was scarcely five feet above the sea 
 level, bucked her way toward Bermuda. She was about as 
 much under the water as she was on top of it for most of 
 the voyage. 
 
 Bermuda is only six hundred miles from Charleston; a 
 fast ship could do the distance easily in forty-eight hours, 
 but the Herald was slow: six or seven knots was her ordi- 
 nary speed in good weather and eight when she was pushed. 
 She had tumbled about In the sea so much that she had put 
 one of her engines out of commission and it had to be dis- 
 connected. We were thus compelled to limp along with 
 one, which of course greatly reduced her speed. On the 
 fifth day the weather moderated and we sighted two schoon- 
 ers. To our surprise Captain Coxetter headed for them 
 and, hailing one, asked for their latitude and longitude. 
 The schooner gave the information, adding that she navi- 
 gated with a "blue pigeon" (a deep-sea lead), which of 
 
loo Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 course was very reassuring. We limped away and went on 
 groping for Bermuda. Captain Coxetter had spent his life 
 in the coasting trade between Charleston and the Florida 
 ports, and even when he commanded for a few months the 
 privateer Jeff Davis he had never been far away from the 
 land. Such was the jealousy, however, of merchant sailors 
 toward officers of the navy that, with one of the most cele- 
 brated navigators in the world on board his ship, he had 
 not as yet confided to anybody the fact that he was lost. 
 
 On the sixth day, however, he told Commodore Maury 
 that something terrible must have happened, as he had 
 sailed his ship directly over the spot where the Bermuda 
 Islands ought to be! Commodore Maury told him that he 
 could do nothing for him before ten o'clock that night 
 and advised him to slow down. At ten o'clock the great 
 scientist and geographer went on deck and took observa- 
 tions, at times lying flat on his back, sextant in hand, as 
 he made measurements of the stars. When he had finished 
 his calculations he gave the captain a course and told him 
 that by steering it at a certain speed he would sight the light 
 at Port Hamilton by two o'clock in the morning. No one 
 turned into his bunk that night except the commodore 
 and his little son; the rest of us were too anxious. Four 
 bells struck and no light was in sight. Five minutes more 
 passed and still not a sign of it; then grumbling commenced, 
 and the passengers generally agreed with the man who ex- 
 pressed the opinion that there was too much d d science 
 
 on board and that we should all be on our way to Fort La- 
 fayette in New York Harbor as soon as day broke. At ten 
 minutes past two the masthead lookout sang out, "Light 
 ho!" — and the learned old commodore's reputation as a 
 navigator was saved. 
 
 We ran around the islands and entered the picturesque 
 harbor of St. George shortly after daylight. There were 
 eight or ten other blockade-runners lying in the harbor, and 
 their captains and mates lived at the same little white- 
 
Blockade-runners ioi 
 
 washed hotel where the commodore and I stopped, which 
 gave us an opportunity of seeing something of their man- 
 ner of hfe when on shore. Their business was risky and 
 the penalty of being caught was severe; they were a reck- 
 less lot, and believed in eating, drinking, and being merry, 
 for fear that they would die on the morrow and might miss 
 something. Their orgies reminded me of the stories of the 
 way the pirates in the West Indies spent their time when 
 in their secret havens. The men who commanded many of 
 these blockade-runners had probably never before in their 
 lives received more than fifty to seventy-five dollars a 
 month for their services; now they received ten thousand 
 dollars in gold for a round trip, besides being allowed cargo 
 space to take into the Confederacy, for their own account, 
 goods which could be sold at a fabulous price, and also 
 to bring out a limited number of bales of cotton worth a 
 dollar a pound. In Bermuda these men seemed to suffer 
 from a chronic thirst which could only be assuaged by 
 champagne, and one of their amusements was to sit in the 
 windows with bags of shillings and throw handfuls of the 
 coins to a crowd of loafing negroes in the street to see them 
 scramble. It is a singular fact that five years after the war 
 not one of these men had a dollar to bless himself with. 
 Another singular fact was that it was not always the speed- 
 ier craft that were the most successful. The Kate (named 
 after Mrs. William Trenholm) ran through the blockad- 
 ing fleets sixty times and she could not steam faster than 
 seven or eight knots. That was the record ; next to her came 
 the Herald, or the Antonica as she was afterwards called. 
 
 Commodore Maury was a deeply religious man. He had 
 been lame for many years of his life, but no one ever heard 
 him complain. He had been many years in the navy, but 
 had scarcely ever put his foot on board of a ship without 
 being seasick, and through it all he never allowed it to in- 
 terfere with his duty. He was the only man I ever saw who 
 could be seasick and amiable at the same time ; while suffer- 
 
102 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 ing from nausea he could actually joke! I remember once 
 entering his stateroom where he was seated with a Bible on 
 his lap and a basin alongside of him. I told him that there 
 was a ship in sight, and between paroxysms he said, "Some- 
 times we see a ship, and sometimes ship a sea!" 
 
 Not knowing of his world-wide celebrity, I was surprised 
 to see the deference paid him by foreigners. We had no 
 sooner settled ourselves at the hotel than the governor sent 
 an aide to tell Lieutenant Maury that he would be pleased 
 to receive him in his private capacity at the Government 
 House. In Europe the commodore was only known as "the 
 great Lieutenant Maury"; they entirely ignored any pro- 
 motions which might have come to him. The commandant 
 of Fort St. George also called on him, but took pains to ex- 
 plain that it was the great scientist to whom he was pay- 
 ing homage, and not the Confederate naval officer. As the 
 commodore's aide I came in for a little of the reflected glory 
 and had the pleasure of accompanying him to a dinner given 
 in his honor on board of H.M.S. Immortality at Port Ham- 
 ilton. She was a beautiful frigate and her officers were very 
 kind to me. 
 
 We remained in Bermuda for more than two weeks wait- 
 ing for the Royal Mail Steamer from St. Thomas, on which 
 we were to take passage for Halifax, Nova Scotia. Simul- 
 taneously with her arrival the U.S. sloops-of-war San Ja- 
 cinto and Mohican put in an appearance, but did not enter 
 the harbor, cruising instead just outside the three-mile limit 
 and in the track the British ship Delta would have to fol- 
 low. Instantly the rumor spread that they were going to 
 take Commodore Maury out of the ship as soon as she got 
 outside, color being lent to this rumor by the fact that it 
 was the San Jacinto which had only a year before taken the 
 Confederate Commissioners, Mason and Slidell, out of the 
 Royal Mail steamship Trent — and I must say that we felt 
 quite uneasy. 
 
 On the day of our departure a Mr. Bourne, a gentleman 
 
Halifax 103 
 
 of whom I had never heard before, asked me to accompany 
 him to his office and there counted out a hundred gold sov- 
 ereigns, sealed them in a canvas bag, and asked me to sign 
 a receipt for them. I assured him that there must be some 
 mistake, but he insisted that I was the right party and that 
 it was Mr. Trenholm's orders that he should give the money 
 to me. Having had free meals and lodging on the blockade- 
 runner, it was the first intimation I had that money would 
 be necessary on so long a journey as the one I was about to 
 undertake. 
 
 We sailed out of the harbor, and the two American war- 
 ships, as soon as we got outside, followed us. As we rounded 
 the headland we saw the Immortality and the British 
 sloop-of-war Desperate coming from Port Hamilton under 
 a full head of steam and we expected every moment to wit- 
 ness a naval fight; the American ships, however, seemed 
 satisfied with having given us a scare, while the British fol- 
 lowed us until we lost sight of them in the night. 
 
 The governor of the colony of Nova Scotia, the general 
 commanding the troops, and the admiral of the fleet, all 
 treated "Lieutenant" Maury, as they insisted on calling 
 him, with the most distinguished consideration, inviting him 
 to dinners and receptions, etc., to which, as his aide, I had 
 to accompany the great man. I particularly enjoyed the 
 visit to Admiral Milne's flagship, the Nile, of seventy-two 
 guns carried on three decks. The old wooden line-of-battle 
 ship with her lofty spars was a splendid sight, and the like 
 of her will never be seen again. What interested me most 
 on board was the eighteen or twenty midshipmen in her 
 complement, many of them younger and smaller than 
 myself. They all made much of me and frankly envied me 
 on account of my having been in battle and having run the 
 blockade. 
 
 The officers of the garrison were also very kind to me 
 and told me a story about their commander, General 
 O' Dougherty, which I have never forgotten. It was about 
 
104 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 a visit the chief of the O'Dougherty clan paid to the gen- 
 eral. Not finding him at home, he left his card on which 
 was simply engraved, "The O'Dougherty." The general 
 returned the visit and wrote on a blank card, "The other 
 O'Dougherty." 
 
 After a few pleasant days spent in Halifax the Cunard 
 steamer Arabia, plying between Boston and Liverpool, 
 came into port and we took passage on her for Liverpool. 
 The Americans on board resented our presence and of 
 course had nothing to do with us, but a number of young 
 officers of the Scots Fusilier Guards, who were returning 
 home for the fox hunting, were very friendly. They had 
 been hurriedly sent to Canada when war seemed imminent 
 on account of the Trent affair. It was the first time a regi- 
 ment of the Guards had been out of England since Water- 
 loo, and they were very glad to be returning to their beloved 
 "Merry" England. Among these young officers was the 
 Earl of Dunmore, who, a few months before, wishing to see 
 something of the war between the States, had obtained a 
 leave of absence, passed through the Federal lines and 
 gone to Richmond and thence to Charleston. He had trav- 
 eled incog, under his family name of Murray. 
 
 At Charleston he had been entertained by Mr. Tren- 
 holm, and that gave us something to talk about. Dunmore 
 was of a very venturesome disposition and instead of re- 
 turning North on his pass, he decided to enjoy the sensa- 
 tion of running the blockade. The boat he took passage on 
 successfully eluded the Federal fleet off Charleston, but 
 she was captured by an outside cruiser the very next day. 
 The prisoners were of course searched, and around the 
 body of " Mr. Murray," under his shirt, was found wrapped 
 a Confederate flag — the flag of the C.S.S. Nashville, which 
 had been presented to him by Captain Pegram. Despite 
 his protestations that he was a Britisher traveling for pleas- 
 ure, he was confined, as "Mr. Murray," in Fort Lafayette. 
 The British Minister, Lord Lyons, soon heard of his pre- 
 
Her Majesty's Life Guardsmen 105 
 
 dicament and requested the authorities in Washington to 
 order his release, representing him as being the Earl of 
 Dunmore, a lieutenant in Her Majesty's Life Guards. But 
 the commandant of Fort Lafayette denied that he had any 
 such prisoner and it required quite a correspondence to 
 persuade him that a man by the name of Murray could 
 at the same time be Lord Dunmore. 
 
 Another of the Guardsmen was Captain Richard Cooper, 
 who, at the relief of Lucknow, was the first man through the 
 breach in the wall, on which occasion he received a fearful 
 wound across his forehead from a scimitar in the hands of 
 a Sepoy, which had left a vivid red scar. Several of the 
 young Guardsmen had never yet flirted with death; they 
 envied Captain Cooper and would gladly have been the 
 possessors of his ugly scarlet blemish. 
 
 The Arabia was a paddlewheel full-rigged ship. She 
 appeared to us to be enormous in size, though, as a matter 
 of fact, she was not one tenth as large as the modern Cu- 
 nard liner. She did not even have a smoking-room, the lov- 
 ers of the weed, when they wished to indulge in a whiff, 
 having to seek the shelter of the lee side of the smokestack 
 in all sorts of weather. A part of this pleasant voyage was 
 very smooth, but when we struck the "roaring forties" 
 the big ship tumbled about considerably and my commo- 
 dore was as seasick and amiable as usual. 
 
CHAPTER XII 
 
 Liverpool — London — Visit " Hill Morton," near Rugby — Ordered to the 
 C.S.S. Alexandra — Snubbed — Ordered to Paris — Ordered to London — 
 Birthday properly celebrated — Damn the Marquis of Westminster and lose 
 my only friend — Meet several Mr. Grigsons. 
 
 We arrived in Liverpool safely, and as soon as we could 
 go ashore I accompanied Commodore Maury to No. lo 
 Rumford Place, the offices of Messrs. Fraser, Trenholm & 
 Co., the financial agents of the Confederacy. There had 
 been no Mr. Fraser in the firm for many years prior to this 
 time, and Mr. Prioleau, a junior partner, was in charge of 
 the Liverpool branch. But it was not to see him that our 
 visit was made. The commodore wanted to see Captain 
 Bullock, C.S.N., who had recently fitted out the Alabama 
 and who was busy superintending the building of other 
 ships intended for Confederate cruisers. Captain Bullock 
 was very kind to me, particularly after I had told him that 
 I knew Mrs. Bullock when she was Miss Harriet Cross and 
 lived in Baton Rouge. 
 
 Before the commodore finished his interview a clerk came 
 into Captain Bullock's office and asked if I was Mr. Morgan; 
 he said Mr. Prioleau wanted to see me. Mr. Prioleau was 
 very affable and gave me two letters of introduction, one to a 
 fashionable London tailor and the other to the firm of Dent, 
 the celebrated chronometer makers of that day. He said it 
 was by Mr. Trenholm's orders and that the letters contained 
 instructions as to what those people would give me. 
 
 The commodore and I stopped overnight at the old 
 Adelphi Hotel. I was by this time accustomed to commo- 
 dores and I had met a live lord, but the head waiter, the 
 most pompous and dignified human being I had ever en- 
 countered, filled my little soul with awe whenever he con- 
 descended to come near me. I was hungry, but felt diffident 
 
London 107 
 
 about asking such an important personage to allow me to 
 have anything to eat. I soon found, however, that he was 
 not as dangerous as he looked and that on occasion he could 
 slightly unbend, and as for knowing things, why he knew a 
 great deal better than I did what I wanted for my dinner. 
 
 When we reached London I found that a house in Sack- 
 ville Street had already been engaged for the commodore, 
 who kindly invited me to be his guest. As I have before said, 
 Commodore Maury was much more appreciated in Europe 
 than he was in his native land. All day long there would 
 be in front of the house a string of carriages with coronets 
 on their doors, while their owners were paying their respects 
 to the great "Lieutenant" Maury. The Emperor of Russia 
 sent him an offer of the rank of admiral, with a salary of 
 thirty thousand dollars a year attached to the rank, if he 
 would enter His Majesty's service, and to build him an 
 observatory and a palatial residence in any part of Russia 
 which he should select. Commodore Maury thanked him 
 and told him that it would be impossible to accept his very 
 flattering offer, as he, the commodore, had devoted his life 
 and abilities to the cause of the South. 
 
 Having nothing else to do, I hired a cab and presented 
 first my letter of introduction to Dent, the watchmaker, 
 where the polite manager placed before me a whole trayful 
 of gold watches and another of watch chains, and begged 
 me to take my choice. I was a little dazed, but managed to 
 carry off with me a beautiful timepiece. Next I went to the 
 tailor, who measured me in every conceivable way and then 
 assured me, with many bows, that he would expedite my 
 order and keep me waiting as short a time as possible. 
 When that order arrived in Sackville Street I was surprised, 
 indeed. At most I had expected a new sack coat, but here 
 was a great box containing a full-dress suit, a morning or 
 business suit, an afternoon frock coat, a smoking- jacket — • 
 and Heaven only knows what else. 
 
 I had not been in London more than a week when my 
 
io8 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 friends the Guardsmen put in an appearance and invited 
 me to visit their various homes. The commodore selected 
 the invitation of Captain Cooper as the first one for me to 
 accept, as he was the oldest officer, and I went to his place 
 called "Hill Morton," near Rugby. I found gathered there 
 Lord Dunmore, Lieutenant the Honorable Charles White, 
 and Lieutenant Ram, of Ramsgate, who had been my fel- 
 low passengers on the Arabia. That visit is among the most 
 pleasant recollections of my long life. Captain Cooper took 
 me to see Rugby School where I insisted on seeing the exact 
 spot on which "Tom Brown" had fought his memorable 
 fight. "Tom Brown" was a real personage to me in those 
 days, and although the request might have puzzled the 
 Head Master, it was easy for those young Guardsmen to 
 take me to the place and make me thrill with their vivid 
 description of the contest. I afterwards found out that they 
 were all Eton boys and did not know any more about 
 Rugby than I did. 
 
 On the days when we did not hunt I was taken on a round 
 of calls on the county families. I never before knew that 
 there were so many lords and ladies in the world, and to my 
 great satisfaction all the aristocrats I met seemed to sym- 
 pathize with the South in her fight for the right of secession. 
 In the smoking-rooms after dinner I was made to recount 
 the stories of the battles I had been in, and they flattered 
 me so that I began almost to believe that I was something 
 of a hero. 
 
 Like all pleasant things my visits to my Guardsmen 
 friends came to an end and I returned to London, where I 
 received orders to proceed to Liverpool and report to 
 Lieutenant J. R. Hamilton, C.S.N., for duty on the Alex- 
 andra. This was only a nom de guerre given her in the hope 
 of hoodwinking the British Government as to the real pur- 
 poses for which she was being built ; but no matter how blind 
 the British might be, Mr. Charles Francis Adams, the 
 American Minister, to use a vulgar expression, was "on to 
 
Liverpool 109 
 
 her," and knew as well as we did what she was intended for. 
 Only her keel and ribs were in place when I first saw her 
 and I do not think the builders were in any hurry to com- 
 plete her, but rather devoted their energies to the construc- 
 tion of an iron blockade-runner called the Phantom which 
 was being built in the same yard. 
 
 It was now the middle of winter. The days were shorter 
 than I ever believed days could be — it was not light before 
 ten in the morning, and dark again by half-past two in the 
 afternoon with the exception of foggy days, and then there 
 was no daylight at all. How I repented ever having abused 
 that bright, burning Louisiana sun. What would I not have 
 given for a few hours of its presence. 
 
 My life in Liverpool that winter was a very lonely one, 
 as I was the only Confederate midshipman, at the time, in 
 Europe. I only knew two families in the city — that of 
 Captain Huger's sister, Mrs. Calder, who was very kind to 
 me on account of my having served in the McRae under her 
 heroic brother, and the family of Mr. Blacklock, a retired 
 merchant of Charleston, South Carolina. Captain Bullock 
 and Lieutenant Hamilton lived out of town, as did Mr. 
 Prioleau who resided in a baronial mansion called " Allerton 
 Hall," some miles out. Having naturally, midshipman-like, 
 squandered all the money Mr. Trenholm had so kindly in- 
 structed his agent in Bermuda to give me, I was now again 
 dependent on my pay of forty dollars a month and was 
 compelled, for reasons of economy, to live in a little dingy 
 house in a back street, called Upper Newington, a couple 
 of blocks away from the Adelphi Hotel.. Unaccustomed as 
 I was to cold weather, the constant storms and the snow 
 added to the cheerlessness of the situation. The only break 
 in the monotony of my existence came on the days I at- 
 tended a nautical school, where I was taught navigation, 
 and my fencing and boxing classes. I thought there was 
 going to be a rift in the clouds when Mr. Prioleau invited 
 me to Allerton Hall for Christmas, but there was a fly in 
 
no Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 the ointment despite the magnificence of the place with its 
 hothouses supplying abundance of flowers and tropical 
 fruits in December. I don't know whether to lay the blame 
 of my trouble on my age or on a young lady, but the facts 
 were these: A young girl, a stepdaughter of a Confederate 
 general who commanded for some time at Charleston, was 
 at school in England and was spending the holidays with 
 the Prioleaus. There was a large number of guests at din- 
 ner on Christmas Day, and Mrs. Prioleau designated me 
 to escort the young lady into the banquet hall. Now the 
 young lady was just my own age, sixteen, when girls 
 most hate boys and look down upon them with supreme 
 contempt, and this young lady thought it beneath her 
 dignity to be seated by a boy — and she took no particular 
 pains to hide her displeasure. On my side I naturally felt 
 hurt, for was I not an officer of the navy and a veteran? 
 At all events, I did not enjoy my dinner, — and I ought to 
 have been happy, for Mr. Prioleau had handed me that 
 morning fifty pounds sterling, saying it was a present from 
 my kind friend Mr. Trenholmwho wished me a merry 
 Christmas. The first use I made of my wealth was to ask 
 and obtain permission to visit Paris, but even Paris, despite 
 its beauty and objects of interest, is a dull place for a boy of 
 sixteen with no acquaintances and not knowing what to do 
 with himself, so I returned to my dismal life in Liverpool. 
 
 In February, 1863, I received an order detaching me from 
 the uncompleted Alexandra, and ordering me to proceed to 
 Paris and await orders. After a couple of weeks' sojourn in 
 what was to other people the gayest city in the world, I 
 received an order to go to London and await orders at the 
 Westminster Palace Hotel. 
 
 I arrived in London on the morning of the loth of March. 
 It was my birthday, and I must say this for the Britishers, 
 it was the only occasion in my life that I ever saw the day 
 properly celebrated. There were royal processions in the 
 streets during the day, and the city was gay with bunting, 
 
Lose my only Friend hi 
 
 while at night the city was illuminated. Such crowds as 
 there were in the streets I could never have imagined 
 before. It was said that despite the fact that the throng was 
 most amiable, forty people were crushed to death by its 
 mere pressure in the narrow streets. I should add incident- 
 ally that the Prince of Wales, afterwards His Majesty King 
 Edward the Seventh, and the Princess Alexandra of Den- 
 mark were married that day. 
 
 Never before had I been so lonely as I was in that great 
 city. The old, dignified, and taciturn waiter who served my 
 meals was the only human being who took any notice of me. 
 He, after a time, appeared to be sorry for me and gave me 
 a table by a window looking out on the street; occasionally 
 he would vouchsafe me a word, for which I was truly 
 grateful ; but I was ignorant of the fact that he was a friend 
 of the Marquis of Westminster, and I made a bad break 
 which cost me his friendship. The trouble occurred in this 
 way. I came to breakfast one morning feeling cross and 
 unhappy. I was gazing out of the window when a pedes- 
 trian, whose clothes did not look any too fresh, passed by on 
 the sidewalk. My friend the waiter called my attention to 
 the man and in an awed whisper said, "The Marquis of 
 Westminster!" I sulkily remarked, "Oh, damn the Marquis 
 of Westminster!" The waiter flushed and angrily retorted, 
 "But ye can't, ye know; he owns all this part of Lunnon!" 
 After that our relations were too strained to allow of any 
 further social intercourse. But as I was under orders not to 
 make any promiscuous acquaintances, probably it was just 
 as well that he snubbed me when I attempted to resume 
 friendly chats with him. We Confederates in Europe were 
 very secretive and mysterious. The higher officers traveled 
 incog., and all that sort of thing. It was interesting to me in 
 after years to read Mr. Charles Francis Adams's letters to 
 his Government, from which I learned that he not only 
 knew our names, but probably had a diagram of every 
 plank and bolt that was being put into our ships. 
 
112 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 On the 4th of April, 1863, I received an order to go to a 
 house in Little St. James's Street and inquire for a "Mr. 
 Grigson," who would give me further instructions. When I 
 found the house the door was opened by a pleasant-faced, 
 middle-aged woman who seemed much amused when I 
 asked for "Mr. Grigson." She replied, laughing, "You will 
 find them in there," pointing to a door. From her language 
 I inferred that the mysterious Mr. Grigson was not so sin- 
 gular a man after all; evidently there must be more than 
 one of him. Entering the room indicated I found myself in 
 the presence of Lieutenants Chapman and Evans, who had 
 been on the Sumter when she was fitted out in New Orleans 
 two years previously, and Mr. Ingraham, a son of the com- 
 modore, who had been a first classman when I was at An- 
 napolis. These gentlemen were also laughing and told me 
 that I had given them a scare, as they were afraid I might 
 be a detective. I asked which one of them might be Mr. 
 Grigson, as I had business of importance to transact with 
 that gentleman? Mr. Chapman answered that they were 
 all Grigsons, but he thought he was a good enough Grigson 
 for my purposes. He handed me an order to report to Com- 
 mander William L. Maury, and when I asked where I 
 should find that officer, he told me that if I would stay close 
 to him. Chapman, I would surely meet the gentleman very 
 shortly. I was then told to return to the hotel, get my be- 
 longings, and return to Little St. James's Street. 
 
CHAPTER XIII 
 
 White Haven — The active tug Alar — Meet the Japan, which turns out to 
 he the Confederate cruiser Georgia — Ushant Island — Break neutrality laws, 
 and away to sea — Hoist Confederate flag, but don't use it much — Capture 
 our first prize, the clipper ship Dictator — Treatment of prisoners — Cape 
 Verde Islands — Narrow escape from U.S.S. Mohican — Crew of Dictator ship 
 with us — Chasing ships. 
 
 Returning to Little St. James's Street I found that 
 Passed Midshipman Walker had joined the party, and 
 about half-past nine that evening we all proceeded to a 
 railway station where we took a train for White Haven, a 
 little seaport about an hour's ride from London. There 
 we went to a small inn, where we met Commander Maury, 
 Dr. Wheeden, and Paymaster Curtis, and were soon joined 
 by others — all strangers to me. We waited at the inn for 
 about a couple of hours ; there was little, if any, conversa- 
 tion, as we were all too anxious and were all thinking about 
 the same thing. In those two hours it was to be decided 
 whether our expedition was to be a success or a failure. If 
 Mr. Adams, the American Minister, was going to get in his 
 fine work and balk us, now was his last opportunity. 
 
 A little after midnight, two by two, we sauntered down 
 to the quay, where we found at least a hundred people 
 gathered near a little sea-going tug called the Alar. It was 
 blowing a gale and a heavy sea was rolling in, which caused 
 the little boat to bump herself viciously against the stone 
 dock, so that but for her ample fenders she must have 
 stove her side in. We hurried on board and Mr. Chapman, 
 taking up a position by the pilot house, said to the crowd 
 on the dock, "Now, men, you know what we want of you; 
 all who want to go with us jump aboard!" About sixty 
 responded to the invitation. The lines were cast off and the 
 Alar shot out of the slip as a man on shore proposed three 
 
114 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 cheers for the Alabama, which were lustily responded to 
 by our fellow passengers. 
 
 As we cleared the end of the docks the little Alar poked 
 her nose into a huge sea and tried to stand erect on her 
 stern, but not being able to accomplish that feat, she fell 
 down into the trough and the next wave passed over her, 
 drenching to the skin every man aboard. She next tried to 
 hold her stern in the air while she stood on her nose, and 
 when the foaming sea reached her pilot house she rolled 
 over on her side as though she was tired and wanted to 
 take a nap ; but she was disturbed by another comber pick- 
 ing her up and slamming her down on the other side with 
 such force as to make every rib in her tiny body quiver. 
 There were no secrets in that contracted space. The men 
 aboard were supposed to be the crew of our cruiser, when 
 we found her, and the cargo of the tug consisted of our 
 guns, shipped as hardware in boxes, and our ammunition. 
 We were all huddled up together, and plainly heard the 
 engineer tell the captain that one more sea like the last one 
 which came aboard would put out the fires. For more than 
 three days and nights, cold and wet, with no place to sleep 
 and little to eat, we stumbled and tumbled down the Eng- 
 lish Channel. When the gale abated at last, we saw on the 
 horizon a trim-looking little brig-rigged steamer idly rolling 
 on the swell of the sea, apparently waiting for something, 
 and we steered for her. She proved to be the British (?) 
 steamer Japan; her papers said that she was bound from 
 Glasgow to Nagasaki, with an assorted cargo, but we 
 doubted their accuracy. 
 
 Commodore Matthew F. Maury, who had bought and 
 fitted out this ship, just completed at Dunbarton on the 
 Clyde, had outwitted the British Government, but not 
 Mr, Adams, who had warned the authorities of her charac- 
 ter. How the British Government could have been held 
 responsible for her escape without stopping their whole 
 commerce is beyond my understanding. The vessel had not 
 
CAPTAIN W. I,. MAURY 
 
 Commanding^ the Georgia 
 
Meet the Japan 115 
 
 the slightest resemblance to a man-of-war; she nominally 
 belonged to a private party, and there was not an ounce 
 of contraband in her cargo, which consisted of provisions, 
 coal, and empty boxes. Her captain himself did not know 
 for what purpose she was intended. His orders were to 
 proceed to a certain latitude and longitude near the island 
 of Ushant on the French coast, where a tug would meet 
 him and give him further instructions from his owner. 
 
 When we had approached close enough to the Japan to 
 hail, Captain Maury asked her captain to send a boat, as 
 he had a communication for him. Captain Maury then 
 went aboard the brig and what passed between him and 
 her skipper of course I had no means of knowing, but soon 
 the Japan passed us a hawser, as there was some slight 
 trouble with the Alar's engines which needed immediate 
 attention. We were taken in tow, and no sooner did the 
 Japan start ahead than accident number one occurred. 
 The hawser became entangled in the Japan's screw, jam- 
 ming it. It took several hours to cut it loose, and when this 
 was finally accomplished, we proceeded to Ushant, going 
 around it in search of smooth waters so that we could 
 transfer our guns from the tug to the cruiser that was to be. 
 We dropped anchor after dark in a little cove and com- 
 menced operations, despite the angry protests of the French 
 coastguards from the shore. Judging from their language 
 they must have been furious as well as helpless. 
 
 The men we had brought from White Haven worked 
 most energetically, and by midnight we had our two twenty- 
 four-pounders and the two little ten-pounder Whitworth 
 guns on board, as well as the ammunition and the trav- 
 erses; but unfortunately the sea was rising all the time 
 and the little tug alongside was pitching and rolling so 
 much that it was too dangerous to attempt to get the big- 
 gest gun, a thirty-two-pounder Blakeley rifle, out of her. 
 So we got under way again and proceeded to the mainland, 
 not many miles from Brest, a great naval station where we 
 
ii6 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 knew a French fleet was assembled. Working like beavers 
 and protected by a headland there, we finally succeeded in 
 shifting the Blakeley gun. We then stood out to sea, where, 
 after we had got safely beyond the three-mile limit, we 
 stopped. Captain Maury called all hands to the mast and 
 read his orders, hoisted the Confederate flag and his pen- 
 nant, and declared the Confederate States cruiser Georgia 
 to be in commission. 
 
 His remarks were received with three lusty cheers. He 
 then asked the men who were going with us to step for- 
 ward and enlist for three years or the war, but alas, a sea- 
 lawyer had been at work, and not a man came forward. 
 The spokesman demanded higher wages on account of the 
 dangers of the service, and when told that the Georgia was 
 a man-of-war and the pay was fixed by law, they, to a 
 man, went over the side and boarded the tug. To our sur- 
 prise nine men of the crew of the late merchantman Japan 
 now stepped forward and said they would like to go with 
 us, and of course they were accepted at once. With these 
 men as a nucleus for a crew, we cast off the Alar's line and 
 never saw or heard of her or the men on board of her again, 
 and never wanted to. We afterwards learned that our pres- 
 ence at Ushant and on the coast of France had been sig- 
 naled to Brest and that a fast frigate had been sent in all 
 haste to capture us for our breach of French neutrality; 
 but we never saw her. 
 
 It was the 9th of April, 1863, when this little friendless 
 ship of only about five hundred and fifty tons started on 
 her long and hazardous cruise. She was as absolutely un- 
 fitted for the work as any vessel could conceivably be : she 
 lay very low in the water and was very long for her beam; 
 her engines were gear engines, that is, a large wheel fitted 
 with lignum-vitse cogs turned the iron cogs on the shaft, 
 and frequently the wooden cogs would break. When they 
 did It was worse than if a shrapnel shell had burst In the 
 engine room, as they flew in every direction, endangering 
 
Away to Sea 117 
 
 the lives of every one within reach. Her sail power was 
 insufficient, and, owing to her length, it was impossible to 
 put her about under canvas. She was slow under either 
 sail or steam, or both together. Such was the little craft in 
 which we got slowly under way, bound we knew not where. 
 Ushant Island bearing east southeast, distant four and a 
 half miles. 
 
 The morning of the loth of April dawned fair, with light 
 breezes and a comparatively smooth sea, and officers and 
 men set to work fastening to the deck iron traverses for 
 our pivot gun. Then came a most difficult job, short- 
 handed as we were, — that of mounting the guns on their 
 carriages; and to add to our troubles the sea commenced 
 to rise. With all the most intricate and ingenious tackles 
 our seamanlike first lieutenant could devise, it was an awful 
 strain upon us, as the heavy gun swung back and forth 
 with the roll of the ship. However, by almost superhu- 
 man exertions we succeeded in getting the guns into their 
 places on the carriages ; then we felt very man-of-warrish 
 indeed. 
 
 Day after day, with a pleasant breeze, we steered a course 
 somewhat west of souths meeting but few ships, and those 
 we saw displayed neutral colors when we showed them the 
 British or American ensign. During the whole cruise we 
 saw our Confederate flag only when we were in the act of 
 making a capture or when we were in port. Usually we 
 showed strange sails the Stars and Stripes. On April 25, 
 there being several sail in sight, we got up steam and made 
 chase after them. The merchantmen we approached one 
 after the other showed us neutral colors until we were be- 
 coming disheartened, when suddenly, about 4 p.m., we 
 descried on the horizon a big full-rigged ship with long 
 skysail poles, — the sure sign of the Yankee. She appeared 
 unwilling to take any chances with us and cracked on more 
 sail while we pursued her under steam. A little after five 
 o'clock, we hauled down the British colors, hoisted the 
 
ii8 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 Confederate flag, and sent a shot bounding over the water 
 just ahead of her, which, in the language of the sea, was an 
 order to heave to. In less time than it takes to tell, the main 
 yard of the doomed ship swung around and her sails on the 
 main and mizzen masts were thrown aback as the Ameri- 
 can flag was broken out and fluttered from her peak. We 
 immediately lowered a boat and our second lieutenant, Mr. 
 Evans, accompanied by myself, rowed over to the prize 
 which proved to be the splendid ship Dictator of between 
 three and four thousand tons, from New York bound to 
 Hongkong with a cargo of coal. She carried no passengers. 
 
 After looking over the ship's papers, we made her crew 
 lower their own boats and forced the captain, his three 
 mates, and the crew of twenty-seven men to get into them 
 with their personal belongings. We then ordered them to 
 pull for the Georgia, which they did with no enthusiasm 
 whatever. On arriving alongside the cruiser they were al- 
 lowed to come over the side one at a time, and were then 
 hurried below and placed in irons. It was not considered 
 advisable to give them time enough to see how weak our 
 force was. The captain was invited by our commander to 
 share the cabin with him, and the first mate was confined 
 in my room, but neither of them had any restraint put on 
 him except that neither was allowed to go forward of the 
 mainmast, or to hold any communication with the men. 
 On board the Dictator we found a fine assortment of pro- 
 visions and sent several boat loads to our own ship. This 
 was necessary as we had now to feed the prize's crew as 
 well as our own. 
 
 The Georgia lay near the Dictator all night, and in the 
 morning we attempted to replenish our coal bunkers from 
 her, but the rising sea made this impossible; and after 
 coming very near swamping our small boats, we gave it 
 up. It seemed hard that we should have to go without the 
 fuel so precious to us while several thousand tons of the 
 very best were within a few cables* lengths of our vessel. 
 
Our First Prize 119 
 
 However, it might as well have been in the mines of Penn- 
 sylvania whence it came for all the good it was to us. 
 
 The Georgia made signal to burn the prize, and Lieu- 
 tenant Evans asked me if I would like to try my hand at 
 setting her on fire. There were a large number of broken 
 provision boxes lying about the deck which I gathered 
 and, placing them against her rail, I lighted a match and 
 applied it. The kindling wood burned beautifully, but 
 when its flames expired there was not a sign of fire on the 
 side of the ship. I was surprised and puzzled, and turned 
 to seek an explanation from my superior officer, who was 
 standing near by fairly convulsed with laughter. He told 
 me not to mind ; he would show me how it was done. (He 
 had had previous experience in the gentle art when lieu- 
 tenant with Captain Semmes on the Sumter.) I followed 
 him into the cabin where he pulled out several drawers 
 from under the captain's berth, and, filling them with old 
 newspapers, he applied a match. The effect was almost in- 
 stantaneous. Flames leaped up and caught the chintz cur- 
 tains of the berth and the bedclothes, at the same time 
 setting fire to the light woodwork. The sight fascinated 
 me and I stood watching it as though I was dazed, when 
 suddenly I heard the lieutenant's voice call excitedly: " Run, 
 youngster, run, or we will be cut off from the door!" We 
 rushed out, followed by a dense smoke and leaping flames, 
 reaching the gangway just ahead of them, and hastily went 
 over the side and down the ladder into our boat which was 
 waiting for us. By the time we reached the Georgia, the 
 prize was one seething mass of flames from her hold to 
 her trucks. It was a strange and weird sight to see the 
 flames leaping up her tarred rigging, while dense volumes 
 of smoke, lighted up by fire from the mass of coal below, 
 rolled up through her hatches. 
 
 The Dictator, exclusive of her cargo, was valued at 
 eighty-six thousand dollars. By decree of the Confederate 
 Government we were to receive one half of the value of 
 
120 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 every ship destroyed, and the full amount of the bonds 
 given by vessels carrying neutral cargo. Under the law 
 regulating the distribution of prize money the total amount 
 was divided into twentieths of which the commanding offi- 
 cer got two and the steerage officers got the same, the rest 
 being shared by the wardroom officers and the crew. I 
 being the only midshipman, or steerage officer, on board of 
 the Georgia for most of the cruise, the amount of prize 
 money (still due me) which I should have received would 
 have almost equaled the share of the captain. 
 
 When we parted company with the burning Dictator 
 we had hardly got well under way when the always exciting 
 "Sail ho!" was heard coming from the masthead look- 
 out followed by the officer of the deck's query, "Where 
 away?" and the answer, "Two points off the port bow, 
 sir!" Away we dashed in chase, only to be disappointed 
 again and again when the chase showed neutral colors. If 
 we had any cause to suspect that they were not what their 
 colors represented them to be we boarded them and ex- 
 amined their papers. Strange sail were plentiful, but no 
 American craft among them. One day we chased a paddle- 
 wheel bark-rigged steamer; it seemed rather strange that 
 we should overhaul her so rapidly, but when we got near 
 to her we discovered that her engines were disconnected 
 and that her paddles were being turned by her momentum 
 through the water. We had the British flag proudly fly- 
 ing at our peak, and suddenly we made another discov- 
 ery; she was a man-of-war! Suddenly she broke out her 
 ensign and there we saw the British Union Jack! The 
 way that British flag came down from our peak and was 
 replaced by the Confederate flag looked like legerdemain. 
 The Englishman then dipped his colors to us — a cour- 
 tesy that we very much appreciated and which we re- 
 turned with great satisfaction, as it was the first salute of 
 any kind we had received. 
 
 On the 29th of April, at about three bells in the forenoon 
 
Narrow Escape from U.S.S. Mohican 121 
 
 watch, we found ourselves near the island of San Antonio, 
 one of the Cape Verdes. With all sail set we bowled along 
 before a stiff northeast trade wind which soon brought us 
 in between San Antonio and the island of St. Vincent, where 
 the high land on either beam acted as a funnel for the trade 
 wind which now increased to a gale. We shot by a promon- 
 tory and there before our eyes we saw the town and har- 
 bor of Porto Grande, and there also we saw lying peacefully 
 at her anchor a sloop-of-war, with the Stars and Stripes 
 fluttering from her peak! Instantly everybody on our ship 
 was in a state of excitement and commotion. The officer 
 of the deck gave the order "Hard-a-port!" quickly fol- 
 lowed in rapid succession through his speaking-trumpet by 
 "Main clew garnets and buntlines!" — "Haul taut!" — 
 "Up courses!" — "T'gallant and topsail halyards!" — 
 "Let go!" — "Haul down!" — "Clew up!" — "All hands 
 furl sail!" — and officers and men rushed aloft and, work- 
 ing like Trojans, soon had her under bare poles. Four bells 
 were rung for full speed ahead, and the little ship gallantly 
 breasted the high sea in the face of the half-gale of wind; 
 but neither patent log 'nor the old-fashioned chip-and-line 
 could be persuaded to show more than four knots speed. 
 
 Captain Maury was evidently very anxious and sent for 
 the English chief engineer and asked him if that was the 
 best he could do. The chief said he thought it was. Cap- 
 tain Maury then told him that if the American man-of-war 
 was the Mohican, as he thought she was, he had served on 
 board of her and she could make seven knots an hour easily 
 against that sea and wind — and significantly added, "You 
 know that being caught means hanging with us according 
 to Mr. Lincoln's proclamation!" 
 
 The chief disappeared below and in a few minutes our 
 improvement in speed was remarkable. We were gratified 
 as well as surprised when we found that we were not being 
 pursued. We afterwards learned that the sloop-of-war, 
 not expecting a visit from us at such an unconventional 
 
122 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 hour, had let her steam go down and could not get under 
 way until she got it up again. We ran around the island 
 and, finding a cove, anchored near the shore, sending a 
 lieutenant ashore to climb the promontory, from which 
 lofty point of vantage, with the aid of his marine glasses, 
 he plainly saw our would-be captor steaming out to sea in 
 the opposite direction from our snug hiding-place. If she 
 had sighted us it is easy to imagine what would have hap- 
 pened, as she carried ten guns — all of which were much 
 heavier than our biggest piece of ordnance — and the little 
 Georgia had more than twice as many prisoners on board 
 of her as she had crew. In fact, our crew would not have 
 been sufficient in numbers to handle and serve our forward 
 pivot gun. 
 
 When night came we weighed anchor and put to sea and 
 the next morning were busily engaged chasing and exam- 
 ining ships. Sometimes we would " bring to " an American, 
 then be disappointed because he had changed his flag, and 
 his papers as a neutral would be all correct. Most neutral 
 vessels feared us, and as soon as they suspected our character 
 would attempt to escape, thus causing us much unnecessary 
 burning of coal. Few of them appeared to be friendly to us, 
 and when asked for news seemed delighted when they had 
 the courage to tell us some rigmarole about great disasters 
 to the Confederate armies which they invented for the oc- 
 casion. Some few gave us newspapers and kindly told us 
 the truth as to what had happened before they left port in 
 the world from which we were excluded. 
 
 It was a fortunate thing for us that we had not been able 
 to land our prisoners in the Cape Verde islands, as we had 
 intended to do. We had treated these unfortunates kindly; 
 they received the same rations our own men did, and one 
 half of them were released from their irons and allowed to 
 roam around the deck in the daytime. They must have be- 
 come attached to us, for first one man and then another 
 asked to be permitted to talk to our first lieutenant, and 
 
/ 
 Crew of Dictator ship with us 123 
 
 when this was granted, would request to be allowed to 
 ship aboard. To our surprise the second and third mates 
 and the twenty-seven seamen joined us and afterwards 
 proved to be among the very best men we had. 
 
 The captain of the Dictator had shared Captain Maury's 
 cabin and seemed a very nice man, but the first mate was 
 of a very different type. He was quartered in my state- 
 room, while I had to sleep in a hammock slung out in the 
 steerage. He took his meals with me and was allowed to 
 take his exercise on the poop deck. Of course neither he 
 nor the captain was subjected to the inconvenience of hav- 
 ing irons put on them ; but Mr. Snow, the first mate, repaid 
 our consideration by writing the story of his capture and 
 "inhuman" treatment by the "pirates" on board the 
 Georgia. He placed this romance in a bottle which he 
 corked tightly and sealed with sealing-wax which he bor- 
 rowed from me ; then he threw it out of the air-port in hopes 
 that it would drift ashore. It did. Years after the war was 
 over it was picked up on the coast of Norway, and its lying 
 contents were published to the world. 
 
CHAPTER XIV 
 
 The Doldrums — Water-spouts — Bahia — Meet the Alabama — Changing 
 of the Confederate flag — Corsairos — Brazilian ball — Midshipman Anderson 
 makes a pillow out of Captain Semmes — U.S.S. Niagara and Mohican on our 
 trail — "Does he want his pretty paint spoiled?" — Refused permission to 
 depart after 4 p.m. — Brazilian battery fires one shot as we pass out. 
 
 Chasing ships without making any captures was getting 
 to be a little monotonous. Some of the vessels we halted 
 had captains who were cross and ugly about being detained 
 while we examined their papers, while others seemed to 
 enjoy the adventure of being held up by a "pirate" and 
 showed our boarding officers every hospitality in the way 
 of wines, liquors, and cigars. We passed close to a man-of- 
 war and showed her our true colors, which attention she 
 reciprocated by running up the British flag and dipping 
 it to us. Every time this occurred we would congratulate 
 ourselves, insisting that the mere courtesy constituted a 
 recognition of the Confederate States. 
 
 Exactly where we were, the captain and the navigator 
 alone knew. The old sailors told me that we were in the 
 "doldrums" — as they call that portion of the Atlantic 
 Ocean which lies in the equatorial belt extending from 
 about ten degrees north of the Equator to the same dis- 
 tance south of it: this they knew by the baffling winds, 
 squalls from every point of the compass, and "Irishmen's 
 hurricanes," as they call dead calms. Another unfailing 
 sign to them was the numerous great waterspouts whirling 
 around in every direction. To see one of these spouts in 
 process of formation is indeed a wonderful sight — first 
 the whirlwind on the surface of the sea and the eddying 
 of a cloud above, then the formation of the column of water 
 twisting and swaying like the body of some huge serpent 
 as it rises out of the sea, the loud, roaring sound and the 
 great commotion of the water around it until it has as- 
 
Bahia 125 
 
 cended to a great height, and then the most extraordinary 
 part of all, when the cloud above sends down a similar col- 
 umn of whirling water and the two, with unerring accuracy, 
 join and complete the awe-inspiring funnel. On one occa- 
 sion one of these spouts was making so straight for us that 
 we fired one of the guns to burst it, for had it come aboard 
 the little Georgia it would have instantly swamped her. 
 
 One night — in the morning watch, just before daylight 
 — an old sailor said to me, "We are near land, sir." I 
 asked him how he knew and he told me to feel how wet the 
 deck was with dew; and although the sea was smooth, the 
 stars shining brightly, and the ship becalmed, I found 
 the deck as wet as though water had been poured over 
 it. The old "shellback" then informed me that dew never 
 extended more than thirty miles from land. This was news 
 to me, but I found that the Jack Tar was right. 
 
 In the middle of the night of May 13-14, we entered 
 the great Bay of Todos os Santos, or All Saints' Bay, and 
 dropped anchor in front of the Brazilian city of Bahia, a 
 picturesque place situated on a high bluff overlooking the 
 bay. There were many vessels anchored near us, and the 
 practiced eyes of our senior lieutenants pronounced two of 
 them to be men-of-war; but of course their nationality 
 could not be made out in the darkness. We had good rea- 
 son, had we known, for feeling anxious about them, for it 
 was in this same harbor, a few months after our visit, that 
 the Confederate cruiser Florida was lying, as her comman- 
 der thought, in peaceful security. So much at ease was he 
 that he had given half his crew liberty, which they were 
 enjoying on shore when the U.S.S. Wachusett, disregard- 
 ing Brazilian neutrality, in the middle of the night, rammed, 
 boarded, and captured her, carrying her to Hampton 
 Roads where she was sunk to avoid having to give her up 
 on the demand of Brazil that she be returned to Bahia. 
 
 There was little sleep on the Georgia the night of our 
 arrival. Day broke and we found ourselves very near the 
 
126 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 two men-of-war. What was their nationality? It seemed 
 an age before the hour for colors arrived, but when it did, 
 to our great delight, the most rakish-looking of the two 
 warships broke out the Stars and Bars! "It is the Ala- 
 bama!" we gasped, and commenced to dance with delight. 
 The officers hugged one another, each embracing a man 
 of his own rank, except the captain and myself. Like the 
 commander, I was the only one of my rank aboard, so I 
 hugged myself. 
 
 The Confederate Government had changed its flag since 
 we had left home, and the Stars and Bars had given way to 
 the white field with a St. Andrew's cross which we fondly 
 believed represented the Southern Cross. The Alabama had 
 not yet heard of the change, and we furnished the anoma- 
 lous and embarrassing spectacle of two warships belonging 
 to the same Government and flying flags which bore no 
 resemblance to each other! Fortunately the new flag was 
 not a difficult one to make, and the Alabama's sailors soon 
 had the new colors proudly fluttering from her peak. 
 
 Captain Semmes, of the Alabama, being the ranking offi- 
 cer, our captain quickly got into his gig and went on board 
 the famous ship to pay his respects. The other man-of-war 
 proved to be a Portuguese sloop, very small, and carrying 
 sixteen little popguns. 
 
 As soon as we arrived in neutral waters our prisoners, 
 the captain and the first mate of the Dictator, were told 
 that they were free and were sent ashore in the first boat. 
 The American Consul demanded that the rest of the crew 
 of the burnt ship should be delivered up to him, and, rather 
 than have trouble with the Brazilian Government we told 
 the men they could go ashore. This they did, and some of 
 the rascals went to the American Consul and told him a 
 tale of woe and got everything possible out of him. With 
 the prisoners landed from the Alabama they had a royal 
 time ashore for several days; but, strange to say, when we 
 got to sea there they all were on our decks! They had 
 
MIDSHIPMAN MORGAN 
 
 While ;itt;iched to the Cruiser Georgia, 1S63 
 
Meet the Alabama 127 
 
 smuggled themselves aboard the Georgia with the conni- 
 vance of our crew and had remained hidden until we were 
 outside of Brazilian jurisdiction. 
 
 The Alabama had recently fought and sunk the U.S.S. 
 Hatteras off Galveston, and as soon as possible I went on 
 board the pride of the Confederate Navy to see the mid- 
 shipmen. There were four of them — Irving Bulloch, an 
 uncle of Theodore Roosevelt; Eugene Mafhtt, son of that 
 captain of the Florida, who, while ill with the yellow fever, 
 ran her through the blockading fleet off Mobile in broad 
 daylight — taking their broadsides as he passed and finally 
 anchoring his much-cut-up ship under the protecting guns 
 of Fort Morgan. There was also William St. Clair, and my 
 dear friend Edward M. Anderson, who is still living (191 6). 
 The holes in the Alabama's side and the scars on her deck 
 where the shot from the Hatteras had ripped them were 
 still fresh, and I heard the story of the battle at first hand. 
 Of course the midshipmen's account of the fight was the 
 one which interested me most. When one has heard their 
 story, one wonders why Captain Homer Blake, of the Hat- 
 teras, never received more credit for his gallant fight. He 
 fought his ship until the muzzles of his guns were almost 
 on a level with the sea and she was about to disappear be- 
 neath the waves forever. 
 
 Captain Semmes was a fine Spanish scholar, but did not 
 speak Portuguese, the national language of Brazil. As I 
 could speak French fluently he borrowed me from Captain 
 Maury to carry communications to the governor of Bahia, 
 who, like most educated South Americans, spoke French 
 perfectly. The American Consul protested against our be- 
 ing allowed to replenish our coal bunkers from the British 
 bark Castor which lay near us. To-day (191 6) the meeting 
 of colliers and warships at appointed rendezvous is sup- 
 posed to be an invention of the Germans; but colliers fol- 
 lowed, or were supposed to be where the Alabama and 
 Georgia would need them. I am sorry to say that they were 
 
128 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 rarely on time, but as they were sailing vessels there was 
 some excuse for them. The Castor was under contract to 
 deliver us the coal and the coal was our property, paid for 
 by the Confederate agent in England; on the protest of 
 the United States Consul, however, the governor refused 
 to allow us to coal from her. We then made a "sale" of 
 part of the cargo to a native merchant, had it put ashore, 
 and then "bought" it from him. Of course the native was 
 well paid for his trouble, and the probability is that the 
 officials got their rake-off from the transaction. 
 
 Brazil was a slave-owning country at that time, but the 
 natives seemed to fear and avoid us, and as we would pass 
 through the streets we could hear the negro nurses threaten 
 crying children that they would be carried off by the "cor- 
 sairos" if they were not good. An English engineer who 
 was building a railroad into the interior was the only per- 
 son in Bahia who showed us any attention or hospitality. 
 He invited the officers of the Alabama and Georgia to go 
 on an excursion on his unfinished railroad. The country 
 through which it passed was rich and beautiful, and at the 
 end of the finished line our officers were regaled with all 
 sorts of good things to eat and drink. On returning to 
 Bahia he invited us to a dance to be given at his residence 
 that night, and naturally as many of the officers as could 
 be spared from duty accepted. The ball was quite a swell 
 affair; all the British colony were there, of course, and 
 many Brazilian ladies; they came from curiosity, but 
 nothing could induce them to risk dancing with the " cor- 
 sairos." This, of course, made us youngsters imagine that 
 we looked rather formidable. 
 
 Shortly after midnight we said good-night to our host 
 and hostess and such of the guests as were not afraid to 
 speak to us, and proceeded to the quay where Captain 
 Semmes's gig was waiting for him. The cutters from the 
 Alabama and Georgia, which were to take the officers to 
 their respective ships, had not yet come for us, and we 
 
Midshipman Anderson's Pillow 129 
 
 thought we saw before us a long wait; but Captain Semmes 
 very kindly invited us to crowd into his gig, saying that 
 after she put him aboard of the Alabama she would take 
 those of us belonging to the Georgia to our ship. On our 
 way to the Alabama, Midshipman Anderson, the captain's 
 personal aide, who had had a rather strenuous day of it, 
 fell asleep. He was seated alongside of his commanding 
 officer and his head fell on the captain's shoulder. Lieu- 
 tenant Armstrong, who was seated opposite him, was 
 about to reach over and awaken Anderson, but Captain 
 Semmes by a gesture stopped him, saying, "Let the boy 
 sleep; he is tired out." Had Anderson been awake he would 
 rather have dropped his head in the ship's furnace than 
 on Captain Semmes's shoulder, for the captain was not a 
 man with whom any one would care to take liberties. As 
 it was, however, Ned had the honor of being the only man 
 who ever made a pillow out of "old Beeswax" as Semmes 
 was called behind his back. 
 
 Captain Semmes was an austere and formal man, and, 
 with the exception of Dr. Gait, the surgeon, and Mr. Kell, 
 his first lieutenant, he rarely held any intercourse with his 
 officers except officially. He waxed the ends of his mustache 
 (which the sailors called his "st'unsail booms") and he 
 would pace his quarter-deck, alone, twisting and retwisting 
 those long ends. He reminded one of Byron's description of 
 the captain of a man-of-war in "Childe Harold": — 
 
 "Look on that part which sacred doth remain 
 For the lone chieftain, who majestic stalks, 
 Silent and feared by all — not oft he talks 
 With aught beneath him, if he would preserve 
 That strict restraint, which, broken, ever balks 
 Conquest and fame. . . ." 
 
 Captain Semmes was a past-master in the art of dealing 
 with Latin-Americans. When the Alabama entered the 
 port of Bahia, the governor sent an aide, attired in mufti, to 
 demand that Captain Semmes show his commission. Cap- 
 
130 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 tain Semmes fixed his steely eyes on the visitor, and then 
 quietly demanded that the gentleman first show his own, 
 and his authority for making the demand. Naturally the 
 aide-de-camp had not had the forethought to provide him- 
 self with either, so he took his departure. As he left the 
 cabin, Captain Semmes kindly suggested that if the gentle- 
 man wished to be treated courteously on his next visit, it 
 would be advisable to wear his uniform. Of course the aide 
 shortly came back, properly costumed, and with his com- 
 mission in his pocket, and also a courteous request that 
 Captain Semmes would call at the palace and show his com- 
 mission to the governor in person. No man knew better 
 than Captain Semmes that he who attempts to enter into 
 a bowing contest with a Latin-American is lost. 
 
 Shortly before we left Bahia a coasting steamer entered 
 the port, bringing the news that the United States ships 
 Niagara and Mohican were either at Pernambuco, a short 
 run to the north, or else on their way south, in search 
 of us. Whether this information had any influence on our 
 movements or not, of course a midshipman could not be 
 expected to know; but all the same we got ready to de- 
 part. The Niagara carried twelve eleven-inch pivot guns, 
 which enabled her to fight them all on either side. She was 
 designed by Steers on the lines of the famed yacht America, 
 of which also he was the designer; and the Niagara, although 
 a steamer, had shown marvelous speed under sail. She had 
 accompanied the British fleet across the Atlantic when the 
 first Atlantic cable had been laid, and it was of her that 
 Admiral Milne spoke when he wrote to the British Admir- 
 alty from on board his seventy-two-gun line-of-battle ship 
 that he was in company with a sloop-of-war which carried 
 only twelve guns, but could outrun his line-of-battle ship 
 and whip her when caught. Consequently there was no 
 doubt on the part of any of us that the Niagara could clear 
 the South Atlantic Ocean of Alabamas and Georgias. 
 
 When this news concerning the Niagara and her consort 
 
Refused Permission to depart 131 
 
 reached the port we had not finished coaling, and the na- 
 tives, who had seemed so anxious to be rid of our presence, 
 now appeared to seek for excuses to delay our departure. 
 Having transferred some five hundred pounds of powder 
 from the Georgia to the Alabama, as the latter ship had 
 used up some of her very short supply in her fight with the 
 Hatteras, in the forenoon of May 22 Captain Semmes sent 
 me with a verbal message to the governor informing him 
 that he would sail at half-past four that afternoon. While 
 I was standing respectfully before the governor awaiting 
 his answer, the captain of the little white Portuguese sloop 
 was striding up and down the room with a fierce expression 
 on his face. Finally the governor told me to tell Captain 
 Semmes that the Alabama would not be permitted to de- 
 part at that hour, as the port regulations did not allow ves- 
 sels to depart after four o'clock; and the Portuguese cap- 
 tain said to the governor, in French (evidently for my bene- 
 fit), that if the governor wanted the "corsairs" stopped, he 
 would stop them for him ! When I repeated this remark to 
 Captain Semmes, he only smiled and said, "Does he want 
 his pretty white paint spoiled?" 
 
 Captain Semmes then sent me back to the governor with 
 a message to the effect that the port regulation applied only 
 to merchant vessels and that the Alabama and Georgia 
 were men-of-war. At 4 p.m. the Alabama fired a gun as a 
 signal to one of her boats to come aboard and at once com- 
 menced to weight anchor. We could see from our deck a 
 company of soldiers trotting at the double-quick down to 
 an obsolete water battery, where the old-fashioned rust- 
 eaten cannon were mostly mounted in an extraordinary 
 fashion, their muzzles resting on the parapet and their 
 breeches supported on logs of wood. On board the Portu- 
 guese corvette there also seemed to be great excitement, as 
 they beat to quarters with such a racket that every man 
 aboard seemed to be giving orders or directions to some one 
 else. At exactly half-past four the Alabama hoisted her 
 
132 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 boat, weighed anchor, and slowly got under way; then, 
 turning around, and hoisting her flag at the main, she steered 
 for the Portuguese. She passed so close to that vessel that I 
 thought for a moment their yards would crash together, 
 but the Portuguese allowed her to pass by without moles- 
 tation. It was none of her business anyhow! 
 
 When we followed the Alabama out, we passed very close 
 to the water battery where the men were standing at their 
 guns, but not a shot was fired until we were at least a mile 
 and a half away, when we saw a puff of smoke and immedi- 
 ately afterwards a shot skipped over the placid waters of 
 the bay, falling half a mile short of us. We wondered how 
 many men in the fort had been killed, for it was a brave 
 and reckless act to fire one of those guns. We did not reply, 
 as we did not know how soon it might be necessary for us 
 again to enter a Brazilian port. 
 
 As we passed out of the Bay of Todos os Santos it was 
 wrapped in the golden splendors of the most gorgeous sun- 
 set it has ever been my good fortune to behold. 
 
CHAPTER XV 
 
 "Tempest in a teapot" — Capture clipper ship George Griswold of New 
 York — Burn bark Good Hope of Boston — Funeral at sea — Bark Seaver 
 goes to assistance of the Good Hope and is captured — Transfer prisoners to 
 the Seaver. 
 
 We followed in the track of the Alabama down the 
 Brazilian coast. The weather overhead was fine, but sud- 
 denly a terrific tempest broke loose out of our mess teapot, 
 a piece of crockery which had been bought by the joint 
 funds of Passed Midshipman Walker and myself. Mr. 
 Walker had been promoted to the dignity of a quarter-deck 
 watch recently. Unfortunately I was the only line officer 
 he ranked, and he never allowed me to forget the fact. My 
 position on board reminded me of the story of the old sailor 
 who, in spinning a yarn, had told how every man in the 
 navy ranked some one else, but, catching sight of the 
 "powder-monkey," he added: "Except you, Jacky!" 
 whereupon Jacky retorted, "Yes, I does; I rank Dennis," 
 — Dennis being the name of the pig who enjoyed the envi- 
 able position of mascot and pet of the whole ship's crew. 
 
 The cause of the hurricane bursting out of the teapot was 
 my ordering the steerage steward to make me some choco- 
 late, which he served in the teapot. The passed midship- 
 man, passing through the steerage, smelled the odor, very 
 peremptorily demanded to know by whose orders chocolate 
 had been put into that teapot, and, on being informed that 
 I was the culprit, he told me that he would attend to my 
 case as soon as he came off watch. It was the first dog- 
 watch that he was keeping — I was impatient for it to be 
 over. I went at last out on the deck and walked up and 
 down under the waist boats so that I should be on hand 
 when it was over. At last eight bells sounded, and after 
 being relieved from the deck the passed midshipman came 
 
134 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 down from the poop and was about to proceed to his quar- 
 ters when I stopped him and told him that I had stood all 
 I intended to stand. Then I struck him. We fought all over 
 the deck and the men ran aft making a circle around us, 
 urging us on. The officer of the deck came to part us, but 
 the men crowded so that he could not get to us. He then 
 ran into the wardroom, returning accompanied by all the 
 officers, who, with their side arms, drove the men forward 
 and proceeded to separate the combatants. The first lieu- 
 tenant then marched us into the presence of the captain, 
 who placed us both under close arrest, but not for long; the 
 ship was too short of officers, and while Walker's confine- 
 ment gave the watch officers extra duty, as the only mid- 
 shipman on board I had a great deal of unpleasant work 
 which some officer had to attend to during my incarceration, 
 such as boat duty, acting as master's mate of the berth 
 deck, and superintending the issuing of the grog ration, 
 besides my regular watch on the forecastle. So kind influ- 
 ence was used in our behalf, — of course, disinterested, — 
 and our captain, who was a most good-hearted and amiable 
 gentleman, let us off and restored us to duty after a week's 
 confinement and a lecture. 
 
 We were beginning to think that the Alabama had cleared 
 up all the Yankee merchantmen in that part of the ocean, 
 when one day we spied a ship with the unmistakable long 
 sky sail poles and brought her to. She proved to be the 
 American ship Prince of Wales, but as she had a neutral 
 cargo aboard we had to bond her. These bonds were given 
 by the master in the name of his owners and stipulated that 
 in consideration of our not burning his vessel, they would be 
 paid six months after the ratification of a treaty of peace 
 between the United States and the Confederate States 
 Governments. 
 
 On June 8, at daylight, we found ourselves off the en- 
 trance to the harbor of Rio de Janeiro and in plain sight of 
 the famous landmark called the Sugar Loaf. We also saw 
 
Capture Clipper Ship 135 
 
 a splendid big clipper ship making her way toward the port. 
 Putting on a full head of steam and setting all sail that 
 would draw, we started in chase of her. The stranger evi- 
 dently had no doubt as to our character for she immedi- 
 ately set all of her kites and studding sails and made all 
 possible haste for her haven of refuge, which lay within the 
 charmed marine league from the shore. Some thought that 
 she had made it, but Mr. Ingraham, our youthful navigator, 
 announced that in his opinion she was a few inches outside 
 of it. There was no time to be lost, so we cast loose our guns 
 and after a few shots brought her to. The prize proved to 
 be the clipper ship George Griswold of New York, manned 
 by a negro crew with the exception of her captain and mates. 
 There was great rejoicing on the Georgia over this capture, 
 as the Griswold was the ship which had carried a cargo of 
 flour and wheat, a gift from the people of the United States, 
 to the starving factory operatives of Lancashire, whose 
 means of earning a livelihood had been interfered with by 
 our war. Some of the bread made from this cargo had been 
 distributed at Birkenhead, opposite Liverpool, by a dis- 
 tinguished committee at the head of which was the cele- 
 brated preacher Henry Ward Beecher, who from a stand, 
 on which had been placed a model of the Alabama, made a 
 speech strongly denouncing the South in general, and the 
 Alabama in particular. At the conclusion of his oration 
 the loaves of bread were tossed to the crowd, who, instead 
 of eating it, used it to pelt the unoffending effigy of the 
 Alabama. It did not look as though they were so very 
 hungry; but there can be no doubt that this gift of bread- 
 stuff changed the sympathies of the working classes of 
 England and converted them into ardent adherents to the 
 cause of the North. 
 
 The captain of the Griswold had no trouble in proving 
 that she carried a neutral cargo, so we had reluctantly to 
 bond her for her own value of one hundred thousand dollars 
 and let her go. In the mean while, the booming of our guns 
 
136 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 had evidently been heard in Rio, as Brazilian men-of-war 
 and battleships of other nationalities began to send great 
 columns of black smoke out of their funnels in their haste 
 to get up steam. We thought it advisable to leave the local- 
 ity, and drew out to sea. Soon we saw the warships coming 
 after us and they followed us all day; shortly after dark, 
 however, we put out our lights, — "dowsed our glims," as 
 the sailors say, — and had the satisfaction of seeing the 
 pursuers "pass in the night." 
 
 On June 13, after a long chase, we captured a very fast 
 clipper bark called the Good Hope of Boston, bound for 
 Cape Town, whose crew asserted that they had escaped 
 from the Alabama the day before and insisted that if the 
 wind had held we could not have caught them. The Good 
 Hope's cargo was composed of "Yankee notions" as her 
 mate called it, consisting of every imaginable thing from a 
 portable country villa to a cough lozenge, and including 
 carriages, pianos, parlor organs, sewing machines, furni- 
 ture, dry goods, etc. On boarding her we were informed that 
 her captain — Gordon by name — had died on the voyage 
 and that his son, a youth of eighteen, who was a member of 
 the crew, had objected so strenuously to his father being 
 buried at sea that in deference to his wishes the carpenter 
 had made a rough, oblong box and partly filled it with brine 
 from the beef casks, and the ship's steward had slashed the 
 body in every conceivable way with a carving-knife and 
 into these gaping wounds had stuck slices of ship's pickles, 
 the better to preserve it. The body had then been put into 
 the briny, improvised cofhn and the cover tightly nailed 
 down. 
 
 It was late in the afternoon when we made the capture 
 and Lieutenant Evans went on board as prize master. We 
 had expected to lay by the Good Hope all night with the 
 object of taking provisions out of her in the morning, but 
 Lieutenant Smith, who had the mid-watch on the Georgia, 
 allowed the prize to drift out of sight and when daylight 
 
Funeral at Sea 137 
 
 came she was not to be seen. Naturally we were very 
 anxious, as Mr. Evans had only five of our men with him 
 and the Good Hope's crew numbered over twenty. Shortly 
 after sunrise we were greatly relieved again to catch sight 
 of her and soon we were near enough to commence trans- 
 ferring her provisions to our own ship. When we had got all 
 we wanted, Captain Maury ordered the coffin containing 
 the dead captain to be brought aboard the Georgia. This 
 was no easy thing to do in a small boat with the sea running 
 quite high, but the feat was accomplished and it was safely 
 hoisted out of the boat by means of a "whip" sent down 
 from our main yard, and reverently placed on two carpen- 
 ter's "horses" which awaited it just in front of the entrance 
 to the cabin, where it was covered with the Stars and Stripes, 
 the flag the dead man had sailed under, and which we were 
 told he loved so well in life. Several of our heaviest projec- 
 tiles were made fast to the foot of the coffin and when all 
 was ready the ship's bell was tolled for divine service, the 
 prisoners were relieved of their irons (the dead captain's son 
 had never had them put on him), and all hands were sum- 
 moned to bury the dead. The prisoners and our crew min- 
 gled together as they gathered around the coffin, at the 
 head of which stood Captain Maury, prayer book in hand, 
 with the son of the dead man standing beside him, while, 
 our officers reverently took their places behind. Captain 
 Maury then read the beautiful ritual of the Episcopal 
 Church for the burial of the dead at sea. 
 
 I was in charge of the deck while the service was going 
 on. It was a bright sunny Sunday morning, a fresh breeze 
 blowing, and from the burning prize, which had been set on 
 fire when our last boat left her, a great column of smoke, 
 hundreds of feet in height, soared toward the sky. Just 
 over our main truck, all through the service, two white sea 
 birds (the superstitious sailors called them "angel" birds) 
 circled round and round. The solemnity of the occasion 
 was somewhat marred when suddenly the lookout on the 
 
138 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 foretopmast sang out: "Sail ho!" Not wishing further to 
 disturb the impressive ceremony by asking the usual ques- 
 tion of "Where away?" I tiptoed forward and went aloft 
 to see for myself, and beheld a strange craft rising on the 
 horizon very rapidly. She appeared to be coming directly 
 for us; she was close-hauled and it was impossible to tell 
 whether or not a smokestack was hidden by her foresail, 
 especially as United States crusiers used anthracite coal 
 and made little or no smoke. 
 
 As the stranger approached, I noticed the unusual white- 
 ness of her sails — a sure sign of a man-of-war; next I 
 noticed a long pennant flying gayly from the top of her main 
 skysail pole — another sure sign ; and as she came still 
 nearer she broke out the Stars and Stripes! I waited no 
 longer, but scampered down from aloft, and softly stealing 
 up behind Captain Maury, who was still reading from his 
 prayer book, said in a whisper — "American man-of-war 
 bearing down on us rapidly! " Never a muscle did he move, 
 nor was there the slightest change in his solemn voice until 
 he had finished, and the prisoners had lifted the coffin and 
 committed the body to the care of the deep blue sea. Then 
 he ordered me to beat to quarters and cast loose the guns. 
 
 By the time this was done it was discovered that the 
 stranger was not a man-of-war, but an innocent merchant- 
 man. What could be her object thus to court her doom 
 when she must have seen the burning Good Hope only a 
 few cables' lengths from us? Nearer and nearer she came, 
 while our gunners, lanyards in hand, kept their pieces 
 trained on her. When within about a hundred and fifty 
 yards of us she was suddenly thrown up into the wind, her 
 main sail thrown aback, and, as she hove to, she lowered a 
 whaleboat and her captain came over to the Georgia. 
 
 We lowered a Jacob's ladder over the side, and the cap- 
 tain of the bark, jumping out of his boat, ran up it like the 
 true sailor he was. As he leaped on to our deck he exclaimed, 
 "This is dreadful! Can I be of any assistance? — How did 
 
Bark Seaver 139 
 
 it happen?" Captain Maury stepped forward and told him 
 the Good Hope had been burned by his orders. The man for 
 a moment looked aghast, and then an expression of indigna- 
 tion passed over his features as he asked , * * Are you a pirate ? ' ' 
 Captain Maury replied, "That Is what your people call 
 me." He then took the skipper Into his cabin and heard his 
 story. 
 
 He had sailed from the United States before the war had 
 begun and had made the long voyage around Cape Horn 
 into the Pacific, where he had wandered about until he had 
 got as far north as the Bering Sea. On his return he had 
 stopped at one of the South Sea Islands, overhauled and 
 painted his ship and whitewashed his sails, and had then 
 hoisted a homeward-bound pennant. He was well on his 
 way when, that morning, he had seen a dense column of 
 smoke which he felt sure could come only from some unfor- 
 tunate ship that had caught fire In the middle of the South 
 Atlantic, and had at once left his course to go to her assist- 
 ance. The first lieutenant of the Georgia went on board of 
 the bark, whose name was the J. W. Seaver and searched 
 her, finding many old newspapers, but none of later date 
 than October, i860. Although her cargo was American, 
 Captain Maury let him go, saying that he would stand a 
 court martial before he would burn the ship of a man who 
 had come on an errand of mercy to help fellow seamen in 
 distress. We put our prisoners, as many as wanted to go, 
 on board of the Seaver; we also put sufficient of the provi- 
 sions we had taken from the Good Hope to last them for the 
 voyage. There were not many of them, as most of the crew 
 expressed a desire to ship with us, and they proved to be 
 among the best men we had. 
 
CHAPTER XVI 
 
 Barren island of Trinidad — The natural monument — Surf five hundred 
 feet high — Battle in the air between frigate bird and sailor lad — Capture of 
 splendid ship Constitution loaded with coal and missionaries — Georgia, by 
 mistake, fires into the Constitution — Capture of ship City of Bath — Despoiled 
 of $16,000 of our hard-earned wealth by trick of skipper's wife — Learn of the 
 death of "Stonewall Jackson" — The Cape of Good Hope. 
 
 On June 18, 1863, we sighted the barren island of Trini- 
 dad situated in the middle of the South Atlantic about 
 twenty degrees south of the Equator. The island is some 
 six miles in circumference, and its precipitous sides rise out 
 of the ocean to a height of about eight hundred feet. A few 
 hundred feet from the island, and towering several hundred 
 feet above it, a natural monument about two hundred and 
 fifty feet in circumference at the base, and perfectly round, 
 rears its head skyward. It is a natural beacon, and very 
 useful to navigators who wish to sight it after coming 
 around the Horn, to see if their chronometers are correct 
 before shaping their courses for Europe or North America. 
 One of the most magnificent spectacles in the world can be 
 seen here when a storm is raging. The huge waves, with the 
 sweep of the whole Atlantic, strike this rock with their full 
 force, bursting into spray that ascends four or five hundred 
 feet before it comes tumbling down like a waterfall. 
 
 The island and the monument form a little cove where we 
 anchored in deep water, although very near the land. We 
 were so well hid that, although we had a good view of the 
 ocean from our masthead, passing vessels would not be 
 aware of our presence until they saw a shot skipping across 
 their bows and heard the booming of a gun. From daylight 
 until dark a cloud of sea-birds could be seen whirling round 
 the top of the monument, where we supposed they had their 
 nests. Great numbers of them also seemed to resent the 
 presence of the ship and took no pains to conceal their feel- 
 
Barren Island of Trinidad 141 
 
 ings, flying very close to us while screaming their protest. 
 One day a sixteen-year-old lad by the name of Cox was on 
 the lookout on the foretopgallant yard when he was sav- 
 agely attacked by a huge frigate or man-of-war bird. The 
 ship was rolling slightly, and, to maintain his footing, the 
 lad had to hold on to a backstay with one hand while with 
 the other he defended himself with his jack-knife. Suddenly 
 the bird got a hold with both beak and claws on the boy's 
 clothes and was furiously beating him with his great, power- 
 ful wings. It looked for a moment as though the combatants 
 would both fall from that lofty height, when a fortunate 
 jab of Cox's knife disabled a wing and down came the 
 feathered fighter to the deck, where he stood off the whole 
 crew for some little time before they succeeded in killing 
 him. 
 
 One day several of our officers in a small boat rowed 
 around the island, but we could find only one spot where a 
 landing could be made — just opposite to where our ship 
 lay. After great effort a few of us climbed to the top. There 
 were signs that at some previous time men had lived there, 
 — probably some shipwrecked crew: but the only signs of 
 animal life we saw were one or two wild hogs. How did they 
 come there? Years after our visit to Trinidad an adventur- 
 ous German baron, who had married an American heiress, 
 went in his private yacht to Trinidad, and, taking posses- 
 sion, declared himself king. On his return to civilization he 
 advertised for subjects to people his new kingdom. This 
 attracted attention, and Great Britain, under the impression 
 that the island might be of use as a coaling-station, at once 
 claimed it. Brazil at once contested this claim, and the dis- 
 pute that followed was finally settled in her favor. 
 
 We had lain at Trinidad for several days when one morn- 
 ing our lookout reported a sail on the horizon. Our fires 
 were banked and it took but little time to get up steam, 
 slip our cable, and start in pursuit. We did not want to 
 waste coal, so we fired a blank cartridge as a signal for the 
 
142 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 stranger to heave to, but it had the effect only of making 
 him crack on more sail. Getting nearer to him, we tried the 
 effect of a soUd shot across his bows, with no better result. 
 We then sent one so close to him that his nerve failed, and 
 he hove to. The stranger proved to be the Constitution, a 
 big, full-rigged ship, hailing from New York and bound 
 from Philadelphia to Shanghai, with a cargo of coal and 
 missionaries. She was forty-eight days out and carried a 
 crew of twenty-six men. Half a dozen of us were put on 
 board the prize, and, as there were several other sail in 
 sight, the Georgia went off in chase, leaving us to work the 
 big Constitution to the island where we expected our 
 cruiser to rejoin us. The wind was very light and we made 
 but slow progress. In the mean while the Georgia had dis- 
 appeared below the horizon and we began to feel lonesome. 
 For safety's sake we placed one half of the crew in irons and 
 put them down below; the other half we kept on deck, mak- 
 ing them work the ship for us until night came and then 
 confined them all on the lower deck. 
 
 The Georgia had not returned by dark, and neither had 
 we succeeded in making the island, so we stood "off and 
 on" all through the night. The next morning was fair and 
 clear, but still there was no sign of our ship. 
 
 The only restriction put upon the missionaries and pas- 
 sengers was that they were not allowed to communicate 
 with the crew or go forward of the mainmast. The captain 
 was confined in his cabin and the mates in their state- 
 rooms, but not in irons. Night had again fallen and the 
 time for the extinguishing of all lights had arrived, when 
 we noticed that there was a great deal of whispering going 
 on in the staterooms. An order for silence was given to 
 which very little attention was paid. A boatswain's mate 
 came aft and reported that the prisoners forward seemed 
 to be very uneasy and none of them were asleep. They 
 were cautioned that if they did not keep quiet the hatches 
 would be covered (which would have made it very uncom- 
 
Georgia fires into Constitution 143 
 
 fortable for them), and by way of extra precaution an armed 
 sentry stood at the hatchway with orders to shoot any 
 man who showed his head above the combings. 
 
 The night was very dark, and the rising sea caused the 
 ship to roll more than ever. Toward midnight a large vase 
 became loosened from its fastenings and fell to the deck 
 with a crash ; then pandemonium broke loose. The women, 
 screaming that the pirates were going to murder them, 
 rushed out of their rooms in their night-clothes and pros- 
 trated themselves on the deck, begging for mercy. Just then 
 — to add to the terrors of the situation — the cries of the 
 women were drowned by the boom of a cannon and the 
 shrieking of a rifle-shell as it passed over us. I rushed on 
 deck and through the speaking-trumpet shouted to our 
 unseen foe: "Ship ahoy! Don't fire, we surrender!" — A 
 hail came out of the darkness, asking what ship we were. 
 I was going to answer that it was the United States ship 
 Constitution, a prize to the Georgia, but as the words 
 "United States" came out of my mouth there was some 
 more banging of the great guns. Things were too serious for 
 further conversation, so hastily ordering a boat lowered I 
 rowed over to the strange craft and found her to be the 
 Georgia ! 
 
 It seemed that after leaving us she chased first one vessel 
 and then another until she had got a long way from us; 
 then, as frequently happened, the wooden cogs of her engine 
 had broken and injured several people, and it had taken 
 some time to make repairs. As soon as possible she had 
 returned in search of us and was nearing the anchorage in 
 the darkness when the officer of the deck thought he heard 
 cheers which sounded as if they were being given by a man- 
 of-war's crew about to go into action. He also said that 
 when he asked what ship it was, he was sure the answer 
 he heard was: "The United States sloop-of-war Niagara." 
 There was so much talk about the Niagara on board of the 
 Georgia that she evidently had taken possession of his 
 
144 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 imagination. I have often wondered if those poor women 
 on the Constitution ever realized the fact that they had 
 given us a greater scare than we had them. 
 
 Several days were spent in coaling the Georgia from the 
 Constitution, — a weary job, as our boats were small; then 
 the passengers and crew of the prize were transferred to the 
 Georgia, and our officers had to give up their staterooms 
 to the ladies. They themselves slept in cots and hammocks 
 crowded together and swung in the space between the 
 rooms. We treated the women with the most respectful 
 consideration, but nothing we could say or do seemed to 
 allay their apprehensions. They were so very miserable 
 that we felt sorry for them and prayed for a prize on board 
 of which we could put them. 
 
 On June 27 we chased and boarded a neutral ship which 
 gave us the sad news of the death of "Stonewall" Jack- 
 son, and in that lonely part of the ocean we paid his 
 memory a last tribute of respect by lowering our flag to 
 half mast. After a few more days of great discomfort we 
 captured the American ship City of Bath, and hastily 
 made preparations to transfer our unhappy guests to her. 
 We sent boatload after boatload of provisions, which we 
 had taken out of the Constitution, to her, and exacted from 
 her captain a promise that he would take our unwilling 
 and unwelcome guests to an American port. 
 
 When the time came to transfer the women to the City 
 of Bath the sea was so high that it would have been danger- 
 ous for them to have attempted to climb down the ladder 
 to get into the boats. Both ships were hove to out on the 
 open sea and were rolling heavily, so we rigged a "whip" 
 on the main yardarm and, placing the poor, frightened 
 creatures in a boatswain's chair, first hoisted them up and 
 over the rail and then lowered them into the waiting boat. 
 
 We afterwards learned that the captain of the City of 
 Bath had not kept the promise which had saved his ship 
 from destruction, but had taken the unfortunate passen- 
 
Trick of Skipper's Wife 145 
 
 gers and such of the crew who had not enlisted on the 
 Georgia to Pemambuco, the nearest port, and left them 
 stranded there while he went on to Boston with the pro- 
 visions. The wife of the captain of the Constitution could 
 not have suffered from want, as a few months afterwards 
 we saw in a newspaper an interview in which she gave a 
 very uncomplimentary account of her experiences with the 
 pirates, but consoled herself by saying that she had saved 
 from their clutches sixteen thousand dollars in gold of the 
 ship's money by sewing the coins into her petticoats and 
 safely left the corsair with her treasure. When we read this 
 we felt that we had been robbed ! Before leaving Trinidad 
 we slipped the Constitution's cable, set her on fire, and 
 turned her adrift; we then made a target of her and exer- 
 cised our men at the guns — and mighty poor range-finders 
 and gun-pointers they proved themselves to be. 
 
 On July 9 we overhauled a magnificent ship with tower- 
 ing masts and auxiliary steam power — the Kent from 
 London bound to Australia. After perfunctorily looking 
 at the ship's papers the captain offered me a glass of sherry, 
 and when I went on the deck the passengers crowded around 
 me, eagerly asking if my ship was the famous Alabama. Of 
 course I told them yes, and answered a thousand other 
 questions. One of the passengers made particular inquir- 
 ies about my age, and when I was about to get into our 
 boat he presented me with a brown paper bag full of most 
 delicious cakes, a luxury I had not tasted for many a long 
 day. I met this gentleman again twenty-odd years after the 
 cake incident. 
 
 I lived the simple life on board the Georgia at this time 
 owing to the fact that we had not entered a port where 
 anything could be bought for so long a time. I only had 
 my ship's ration of salt horse and hard tack to eat, but it 
 must have been a healthful regimen as I had grown won- 
 derfully in height and strength — and my sobriquet of 
 "Little Morgan" had become a misnomer. 
 
146 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 On the 15th of August we sighted Table Mountain at the 
 entrance of Table Bay. Behind the mountain is the city 
 of Cape Town, the capital of Cape Colony. We chased ves- 
 sels right under the shadow of lofty Table Mountain with 
 its flat top, and still kept well outside of the sacred marine 
 league. Over the mountain, when the wind is from a par- 
 ticular direction, there hangs a white cloud formed by mist 
 ascending which is called the ''Tablecloth." Looking down 
 on Table Mountain is the Lion, a much higher eminence, 
 the crest of which from certain points at sea looks like a 
 lion couchant. The whole coast scenery is very grand as 
 viewed from the ocean. 
 
 The next morning we found ourselves very close to that 
 awesome and forbidding-looking promontory called the 
 Cape of Good Hope, — why so called is as mysterious as 
 the ugly, ragged, and jutting rock itself looks to be. No 
 wonder that the ancient Portuguese mariners believed that 
 the demons who dwelt there dragged their ships back in the 
 night and so prevented them from doubling the ugly head- 
 land. As we passed it under steam the sea was angrily lash- 
 ing its base and the black rock was ugly enough to fill any 
 one with dread even though he had never heard any of the 
 blood-curdling legends connected with it. 
 
CHAPTER XVII 
 
 Simon's Town — The Alabama had just sailed from the port — Two of the 
 Georgia's engineers, the boatswain, gunner, and several seamen get "cold 
 feet" and leave us — Our first lieutenant, Mr. Chapman, ordered to Europe — 
 Visit the city of Cape Town — Skippers of burned ships not friendly and dis- 
 posed to start a rough-house — H.M. troopship Himalaya — "Dixie" — Ex- 
 citing experience with Malay fishermen — Albatross and Cape pigeons — Meet 
 the tea fleet — Also the U.S.S. Vanderbilt — Myriads of fish follow the 
 Georgia making the ocean at night appear to be in flames. 
 
 Passing into False Bay, which lies behind the Cape of 
 Good Hope, on August i6 we dropped our anchor in front 
 of Simon's Town, situated on Simon's Bay, a small inden- 
 tation of the land on the great False Bay. We had no 
 sooner let go our anchor than a British official boarded us 
 and ordered us to put to sea at the expiration of twenty- 
 four hours. But we knew many a trick to get around inter- 
 national law, and showed him that our engine was broken 
 down, omitting to add that the disaster had occurred just 
 before we came to anchor. It was a habit of that engine to 
 break down just as we entered port if we wanted to remain 
 over the legal twenty-four hours. Besides, we wanted to 
 caulk our decks which leaked badly, as the oakum, in the 
 bad weather to which we had been subjected, had worked 
 loose; besides we had been constantly at sea for four 
 months in tropical waters and the iron bottom of the 
 Georgia was covered with a growth of sea-grass from eight 
 to twelve inches long which impeded her speed more than 
 one half. The British authorities ordered their own offi- 
 cials to hold a survey on her and report on the absolutely 
 necessary repairs. 
 
 The first news of interest to us was that the Alabama had 
 sailed from Simon's Town a few hours before our arrival. 
 It seemed that she had got into hot water with the authori- 
 ties by capturing the bark Conrad too close to the line of 
 the ubiquitous marine league, had changed her name to 
 
148 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 Tuscaloosa, and converted her into a Confederate cruiser. 
 This news that the Alabama had got herself disliked by 
 the Colonial Government brought on an attack of "cold 
 feet" which so seriously affected two of our engineers, the 
 boatswain, and the gunner, all Englishmen whom we had 
 brought from London with us, that they pleaded with the 
 captain for their discharges. This he granted, although 
 the loss of the engineers was a serious matter. Several of 
 the British sailors who had joined us at Ushant Island, 
 sailor-like, discharged themselves and left behind the pay 
 due them. With three or four exceptions our ship's com- 
 pany was now composed entirely of Americans. But a 
 much greater loss to us than these men was the detach- 
 ment of our first lieutenant, Mr. Chapman. He had be- 
 come dissatisfied with his position of executive officer of a 
 little brig, knowing as he did that many men far beneath 
 him in rank were in command of gunboats in the Confed- 
 eracy and that others were aspiring to command the cruisers 
 which were being fitted out in England and in France. Cap- 
 tain Maury sympathized with his ambition and allowed 
 him to return to England — and a bad day it was, too, for 
 the Georgia when he left, for he was a man of iron nerve, 
 a strict disciplinarian with a kind heart, and absolutely 
 just. 
 
 Having been cooped up in very restricted quarters for 
 more than four months, I longed once more to throw my 
 leg over a horse and get a little congenial exercise. Having 
 obtained leave, I mounted a livery-stable steed and started 
 for a twenty-mile ride to Cape Town. The journey across 
 country was a very uninteresting one. I only met one 
 Dutch boy, who either could not or would not talk Eng- 
 lish, and a Kaffir negro with whom I did not care to fra- 
 ternize on account of his color. But I did see what interested 
 me greatly — geraniums in profusion growing wild and 
 called weeds, and "everlasting" flowers, which when 
 plucked may be laid away in a drawer for months and when 
 
Unfriendly Skippers 149 
 
 taken out and placed in water will regain their freshness in 
 a very little while. 
 
 At the hotel where I stopped in Cape Town I found that 
 eight or ten captains and mates of ships recently destroyed 
 by the Alabama were guests. I was in uniform, and being 
 in neutral territory I had no idea that they would attempt 
 to molest me. But I was mistaken. I passed them in the 
 lobby and on the piazzas without their taking any notice 
 of me, but when I entered the dining-room where they were 
 already seated, and where there were many other people, 
 they arose en masse and swore worse than did the "army 
 in Flanders," damning pirates in general and myself in 
 particular. They were advancing on me in a most threat- 
 ening manner when the proprietor of the place rushed into 
 the room and commanded the peace. He begged me to go 
 with him into his private dining-room, but I protested that 
 it was the disturbers of the peace who should be made to 
 leave. I was finally persuaded to accompany my host and 
 at his private table found much more congenial society in 
 the company of his charming wife, two lovely daughters, 
 and two grown sons, especially as they told me that their 
 sympathies were all with the South. They also gave me a 
 glass of the sweet Constancia wine for which the colony is 
 famous. The only thing that marred the pleasure of the 
 meal happened at the end when my host unfortunately 
 asked me what I would have done if the Yankee skippers 
 had assaulted me. I naively answered that I was perfectly 
 able to take care of myself, as I had a Colt's revolver 
 strapped to me and very handy. I shall never forget the 
 look of horror that passed over the faces of those English 
 people. I could not understand it — coming as I did from 
 a country where almost every man carried a weapon, and 
 where it was considered the proper thing to resent an as- 
 sault with a shot. 
 
 When I returned to my ship I found the caulkers still 
 at work and the din they made interfered with our com- 
 
150 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 fort for many a day. I also found that Her Majesty's troop- 
 ship Himalaya had come into port with a regiment of 
 Highlanders on board bound for India. One day, while 
 returning from shore in one of our cutters, I steered her 
 very close to the troopship. The band was playing on the 
 quarter-deck, and as we approached the band struck up 
 "Dixie," and I stood up in the boat and took off my cap. 
 The Himalaya's crew and the soldiers raised a cheer which 
 was quickly suppressed, and I afterwards heard that the 
 bandmaster and the officers who had instigated him to 
 play "Dixie" had been reprimanded. We afterwards met 
 some of these officers on shore and they invited us to dine 
 with them on their ship. The dinner was a very picturesque 
 affair — the gay uniforms of the officers with their gold 
 lace and the beautiful toilets of their wives and daughters : 
 the scene was not one to be easily forgotten. The High- 
 land pipers playing their bagpipes marched three times 
 around the table and a more awful screeching noise than 
 they made it had never before been my misfortune to hear. 
 A Scotch officer greatly embarrassed me by asking if I 
 did not think it delightful music. When the table was 
 cleared of all the good things, the colonel arose and said, 
 "Gentlemen, will you fill your glasses?" This having been 
 done, he again arose and solemnly proposed the toast which 
 consisted of only two words, "The Queen!" The glasses 
 were emptied, and the function was at an end. 
 
 The weather around the Cape of Good Hope is notori- 
 ously treacherous. One afternoon I asked permission to 
 go on shore and it was granted me on my solemn promise 
 that I would be back in time to keep the mid-watch. I had 
 a most enjoyable time until about ten o'clock when I had 
 to leave my companions so as to catch the Georgia's boat. 
 I was disappointed to find that no boat had come for me, 
 and that it was blowing "great guns." I wanted to keep 
 my promise, but none of the native watermen would under- 
 take to put me aboard, saying that the sea was too high. 
 
Exciting Experience 151 
 
 At last a man told me that some little distance up the 
 beach there was a hut occupied by some Malay fishermen 
 and that they would risk anything for money. I went to 
 the shanty and had some little difficulty in routing them 
 out of their slumbers. After a great deal of bargaining five 
 of them agreed to go with me for two pounds, which I truth- 
 fully told them was all I had. At Simon's Town when the 
 wind is from the southwest the huge rollers of the South 
 Atlantic have a clean sweep into the open roadstead which 
 answers for a harbor. The huge Himalaya could be plainly 
 seen in the moonlight tugging at her anchors while rolling 
 heavily, and the little Georgia was wallowing and plunging 
 bows under and the spray in sheets passing over her. The 
 curlers coming high on the beach did not look inviting, but 
 it had to be done. Before embarking the Malays insisted 
 that in the presence of the witnesses gathered around the 
 boat I should agree to take all the responsibility and steer 
 the boat. The boat was high on the beach and was resting 
 on wooden rollers. She was taken to the water's edge and 
 we got into her — the Malays got out their oars, and their 
 numerous friends seized hold of the gunwales and dragged 
 us out until she was afloat, and then they let us go. It was 
 an awful effort to get through the surf, but the feat was 
 finally accomplished. Outside of the breakers the seas 
 were still higher and we took a great deal of water into the 
 boat which compelled two of the men to take in their oars 
 and go to bailing. The water gained on us, and it began to 
 look very dubious as to whether we would reach the ship 
 or not. But by almost superhuman exertions the Malays 
 succeeded and only just in time, for as a line was thrown 
 from the Georgia the boat sank under us. The smart 
 Malay at the bow oar the moment he caught the line had 
 instantly taken a turn around the forward thwart and made 
 it fast. The Georgia quickly sent down a "whip" from the 
 main yard and we were safely hoisted on board. The offi- 
 cer who would have had to walk the mid-watch if I had 
 
152 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 failed to return seemed disposed to regard me somewhat in 
 the light of a hero. The others said I was an idiot, and the 
 captain gave me a good scolding for what he termed my 
 foolhardiness. Somehow or other I never could make a suc- 
 cess of that hero business. • 
 
 We had received information that H.B.M. cruiser Nar- 
 cissus was coming from Table Bay to investigate our long 
 stay in a British port and to see that we did not longer in- 
 fringe upon the rules set forth in Her Majesty's neutrality 
 proclamation, so like the sensible dog which "got up and 
 walked out when he saw preparations being made to kick 
 him," we bade good-bye to Simon's Town. As we were 
 leaving who should come into port but the Narcissus, and 
 that policeman of the seas not only did not attempt to ar- 
 rest us, but dipped her colors to us as her enthusiastic crew 
 manned the rigging and gave us three lusty cheers — need- 
 less to say that we returned the compliment with interest. 
 
 Passing out of False Bay into the South Atlantic we 
 steered a southeasterly course, followed by many graceful 
 albatross and thousands of Cape pigeons, a pretty little 
 speckled sea-bird strongly resembling in size and appear- 
 ance its domestic namesake. 
 
 The sailors threw out a line with a hook baited with a 
 small piece of fat pork which was almost instantly gob- 
 bled by a huge albatross measuring almost twelve feet from 
 tip to tip. The poor bird was hauled aboard, the hook un- 
 fastened from its bill, and it was turned loose on the deck 
 when it became fearfully seasick, causing much amuse- 
 ment for the men. It is a singular fact that all sea-birds, 
 despite the fact that they will alight on the water and ride 
 over the highest waves without discomfort, become ill the 
 moment they touch a ship's deck. Besides his size, our al- 
 batross was remarkable for a brass bracelet he wore on 
 one of his legs on which was engraved, " Condor 1854." His 
 appetite had evidently got him into trouble on a previous 
 occasion. 
 
Meet the Tea Fleet 153 
 
 The morning after we lost sight of the Cape of Good 
 Hope we saw on the horizon a large number of sail. We 
 knew at once that they were the quarry we were looking 
 for. The wind was very light and fortunately they were 
 coming toward us, for the Georgia's chasing days were over. 
 The mass of long sea-grass on her hull had reduced her 
 boasted speed of nine knots an hour under steam to less 
 than five. 
 
 As the fleet of Indiamen loaded with silks and tea from 
 the Orient approached us, we picked out those ships which 
 we suspected might be American and ran up alongside of 
 them, sending an officer on board to examine their papers 
 without putting them to the inconvenience of having to 
 heave to, as we knew how anxious they all were to get to 
 the northward of the Cape before bad weather came on 
 again. We went from ship to ship, but had no luck, as all 
 we boarded were either neutral vessels or else American 
 ships which had changed their nationality and had neu- 
 tral cargoes aboard. We had changed our course and 
 accompanied them until the evening of the next day when 
 we found ourselves under the shadow of Table Mountain. 
 The sun was setting when suddenly we saw a great paddle- 
 wheel steamer, her double walking-beam engines making 
 her nationality unmistakable. She was headed for Table 
 Bay, her course taking her across our bow and she soon 
 was only about five miles away. 
 
 Captain Maury ordered all hands to assemble at the 
 mast and said to them, "Men, that steamer is theVander- 
 bilt; she can outrun us and she can whip us after she 
 catches us. I am going to lay you alongside of her and you 
 had far better follow me aboard her and die like men fight- 
 ing for your lives than to tamely allow yourselves to be 
 hung from her yardarms. Go to quarters!" 
 
 We held our course and the Vanderbilt kept on without 
 taking any notice of us and entered Table Bay into which 
 she had hardly poked her nose before we captured the 
 
154 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 American ship John Watt in plain view of the lights of the 
 city of Cape Town which by this time were beginning to 
 twinkle in the distance. I fear that we were perilously near 
 that sacred limit called the "marine league" within which 
 captures were unlawful, but we saw no fence demarking 
 private property and gave ourselves the benefit of the 
 doubt. 
 
 The Vanderbilt carried twelve eleven-inch guns and she 
 had come thousands of miles to capture the Alabama. She 
 lay for some time at Cape Town and if her captain did not 
 know where the Alabama was at that time, he must have 
 been the only man in Cape Colony who was unaware of 
 the fact that the Confederate cruiser was only a few miles 
 away to the southward. 
 
 We had not proceeded very far when we discovered that 
 innumerable fish, albecore and bonito, seemed to be fol- 
 lowing the ship, many of them swimming so close to her 
 sides that they almost touched her. As we were under sail 
 alone and going very slowly, there was nothing to disturb 
 them except the occasional throwing of a grange (a three- 
 pronged harpoon) by the men. The fish were so close to- 
 gether that it was impossible to miss and we had quanti- 
 ties of fresh fish for all hands for ten or twelve days before 
 they left us. The nights were dark and we witnessed a sin- 
 gular phenomenon caused by these myriads of fish rushing 
 through the phosphorescent water, causing the ocean to be 
 streaked, as though by flames, from horizon to horizon. 
 In the daytime great schools of small fish could be seen flap- 
 ping on the surface in mortal fright and giving one the idea 
 of a huge silver salver as their shiny sides contrasted with 
 the ocean's blue and shimmered in the sunlight. They had 
 cause to be alarmed, as from under them hundreds of albe- 
 core would pop up, leaping fifteen or twenty feet in the air, 
 each one of them having a victim in his mouth. Flying 
 fish in efforts to escape were sailing in every direction 
 through the air. 
 
In the Doldrums 155 
 
 It was useless for us to chase any vessels so long as we 
 were in the southeast trades, as they would run away from 
 us in the fresh breeze, but when we neared the Equator and 
 got into the doldrums, that region of calms and squalls, 
 waterspouts, and rains which fell in sheets instead of drops, 
 we had no trouble in running up to any sailing vessel that 
 we selected to examine. One moment a squall would strike 
 them and they would be rushing through the water like 
 ocean greyhounds and the next minute they would be be- 
 calmed with their sails idly flapping against their masts. 
 One minute we would be scorched by the tropical sun and 
 the next we would be drenched by a cloudburst. Our rubber 
 raincoats were useless, as nothing but the yellow oilskins 
 of the sailors could shed that torrent of water. 
 
CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 The prize Bold Hunter, abandoned and on fire, runs down and seriously 
 damages the Georgia — Mirage at night — Peak of Teneriffe — Santa Cruz — 
 Battle with a Frenchman — Rescue French brig Diligente — Captain Maury 
 ill — Sailors get at the spirit-room — Mutiny. 
 
 On October 9, 1863, in a light breeze and after a lively 
 chase we brought to, with our guns, the splendid American 
 full-rigged ship Bold Hunter, of Boston, from Dundee, 
 bound to Calcutta with a heavy cargo of coal. We hove to 
 to leeward of her and brought her captain and crew over to 
 our ship, where as usual the crew were placed in irons and 
 below decks. Being short of coal and provisions we pro- 
 ceeded to supply our wants from the prize. This was easy 
 so far as the provisions were concerned, but when it came to 
 carrying the coal from one ship to the other in our small 
 boats, in something of a seaway, that was another matter. 
 After half a dozen trips one of our boats came very near 
 being swamped, and the wind and sea rapidly rising, we 
 gave it up as a bad job. This was about two bells (l p.m.) 
 in the afternoon watch. We signaled our prize master to 
 set fire to the Bold Hunter and also to come aboard the 
 Georgia at once, which he did. 
 
 We had hardly finished hoisting our boats to the davits 
 when a great cloud of smoke burst from the hatches of the 
 Bold Hunter coming from the thousands of tons of burning 
 coal in her hold. The wind had by this time increased to a 
 gale and the sea was running very high. As before men- 
 tioned, the wind was very light when we captured the ship 
 and she had hove to with all sail set, even to her royals. 
 The flames leaped from her deck to her tarry rigging and 
 raced up the shrouds and backstays and burned away her 
 braces — her yards swung around, her sails filled, and the 
 floating inferno, like a mad bull, bore down on us at full 
 
Bold Hunter damages the Georgia 157 
 
 speed, rushing through the water as though she was bent 
 on having her revenge. To avoid a colHsion, the order was 
 given on the Georgia to go ahead at full speed. The gong 
 in the engine room sounded, the engine turned the screw, 
 and the screw began to churn the water under our stern 
 The engine made two or three revolutions — then there was 
 a crash — followed by yells as the engineers and oilers 
 rushed on to the deck accompanied by a shower of lignum- 
 vitae cogs and broken glass from the engine-room windows. 
 The order to make sail was instantly given, but before the 
 gaskets which confined the furled sails to the yardarms could 
 be cast off, the burning ship was upon us. She had come for 
 us with such directness that one could easily have imagined 
 that she was being steered by some demon who had come 
 out of the inferno which was raging in her hold. We stood 
 with bated breath awaiting the catastrophe which seemingly 
 was about to overtake us. The Bold Hunter was rated at 
 over three thousand tons and had inside her a burning cargo 
 of coal of even greater weight — the Georgia was scarcely 
 one sixth her size. Onward rushed the blazing ship, pre- 
 senting an awesome spectacle with the flames leaping about 
 her sails and rigging while a huge mass of black smoke rolled 
 out of her hatches. High above our heads her long, flying 
 jibboom passed over our poop deck as she rose on a great 
 wave and came down on our port quarter, her cutwater cleav- 
 ing through the Georgia's fragile plates as cleanly as though 
 they had been made out of cheese. The force of the impact 
 pushed the Georgia ahead and for a moment we congratu- 
 lated ourselves that we had escaped from the fiery demon 
 whose breath was scorching us. But the Bold Hunter was 
 not yet satisfied with the injuries she had inflicted. Recover- 
 ing from the recoil, she again gathered way and struck us 
 near the place she had previously damaged, but fortunately 
 this was a glancing blow which had the effect only of wrench- 
 ing off our port quarter davits and reducing the boat which 
 was slung to them to kindling wood. Not yet satisfied, the 
 
158 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 apparently infuriated inanimate object made a third at- 
 tempt to destroy the Georgia, this time, fortunately, missing 
 her mark and passing a few yards to leeward of us. Her sails 
 having burned, she soon lost headway and helplessly lay 
 wallowing in the trough of the sea while the fire ate through 
 her sides, and her tall masts, one after the other, fell with 
 a great splash into the sea. Before she went down sur- 
 rounded by a cloud of steam we had a good view through 
 the great holes burned in her sides of the fire raging inside 
 her. I imagine it was a very realistic imitation of what hell 
 looks like when the forced drafts are turned on in honor of 
 the arrival of a distinguished sinner. 
 
 The Georgia needed a port, and needed one sorely, to 
 repair her injuries, as she was leaking badly despite the 
 work of the carpenter's gang in stopping up the hole made 
 by the Bold Hunter's stem. We were making all possible 
 speed for some place — I did not know where — when on 
 the night of October 13-14 we were the victims of a most 
 singular false alarm. The night was starlit and the sea was 
 smooth — the only air stirring being that made by the slow 
 progress of the steamer. I was keeping the mid-watch on 
 the forecastle. Four bells (2 a.m.) had just struck, when the 
 stillness of the night was broken by a frightened yell from 
 the lookout — " Land ho!" Instantly the officer of the deck 
 asked, "Where away?" and the lookout answered, "Dead 
 ahead, sir!" — and added in what was a frightened wail, 
 "For God's sake, stop her, sir!" By this time the officer of 
 the deck had seen the cause of alarm and had signaled the 
 engineer to stop and then to go astern at full speed. 
 
 A sailor, although asleep, instantly knows if anything 
 has gone wrong on his ship. A sail taken aback — or the 
 engines stopping, — yes, even the cessation of the regular 
 tramp of the officer as he walks his watch, will awaken Jack 
 instantly. In this instance the watch below were out of 
 their bunks and hammocks in a jiffy and scampered up the 
 hatchway to find out what had happened. One look was 
 
Mirage at Night 159 
 
 enough — there, not a ship's length ahead, was land which 
 towered up Into the darkness. It looked as though it would 
 be impossible to stop our headway before we should be 
 dashed to pieces on it. Captain Maury and all his officers 
 were gathered on the poop deck. It was the only time I ever 
 saw the captain show any excitability. He rather peremptorily 
 demanded an explanation from the navigator, who insisted 
 that his calculations were right and that the nearest land to 
 us was the Canary Islands, distant more than one hundred 
 miles. The captain pointed to the land, a cable's length or 
 less away, an unanswerable argument. The navigator could 
 only shake his head doubtfully and reiterate that despite 
 all appearances being against him he was sure his work was 
 correct. The captain went into his room and together they 
 went over the calculations, but no error could be discovered. 
 Then the captain came forward and looked long and in- 
 tently at the obstacle which barred our further progress, 
 apparently. Suddenly I was surprised to hear him laugh in 
 his usual gentle way, and then I almost jumped out of my 
 boots as I heard him give the order to go ahead at full 
 speed. As he passed me on his way back to his cabin he 
 simply said, " Mirage!" I afterwards heard him say that it 
 was the only time in his life that he had ever seen a mirage 
 at night. Through the rest of my watch it seemed to me 
 that the next revolution of the engine must necessarily 
 plunge our flying jibboom Into those phantom rocks. The 
 mirage faded away before daylight, and that morning at a 
 distance of a hundred and ten miles we plainly saw the Peak 
 of Teneriffe towering above the clouds. 
 
 The morning after our mirage scare we dropped our 
 anchor in front of the picturesque little town of Santa Cruz 
 which nestles at the foot of the gigantic peak. The little 
 fort which guards the harbor looked comical with its little 
 popguns pointing seaward, but this fort will always live In 
 history, for it was a projectile from one of its toy guns which 
 removed the great Admiral Lord Nelson's arm. 
 
i6o Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 The vicinity of the Canary Islands is a favorite hunting- 
 ground for American whalers, and United States men-of-war 
 were constantly on guard to protect them; one had just left 
 Santa Cruz the day before we arrived. Had she remained 
 twenty-four hours longer it would have been the end of the 
 Georgia's cruise. 
 
 We put our prisoners on shore, and as the authorities 
 were as anxious to get rid of us as we were to get out of that 
 neighborhood, our absolutely necessary repairs were hurried. 
 During our short stay a native merchant who had supplied 
 us with some necessities invited me to take lunch at his 
 pretty villa in the suburbs and there I first saw a gazelle, a 
 gentle, affectionate little creature who followed the mistress 
 of the establishment all over the house and through the 
 gardens — I also learned for the first time that canary birds 
 in the Canary Islands are green instead of yellow like the 
 birds of commerce which are bred in cages. 
 
 After a two days' stay at Santa Cruz we got under way 
 and on the 20th of October we had a rather amusing adven- 
 ture with a bellicose Frenchman. The wind was so light 
 that the sailing ships in sight had barely steerage way. 
 Under steam we bore down on a bark which showed French 
 colors, but looked like an American. As we ranged along- 
 side of him my captain ordered me to hail him in French 
 and I did so by bawling out through the speaking trumpet 
 (called in these days a megaphone): "Mettez votre grand 
 voile au mat!" — which is French for "Heave to!" — to 
 which the excitable Gaul replied: " Je suis frangais, et je ne 
 m'arrete pas pour un canaille de corsair!" — which is 
 French for ** I am a Frenchman, and I don't stop for a low- 
 bred pirate!" We lowered a boat and I was ordered to go 
 aboard the rude fellow's ship and tell him that he must show 
 his papers. But when I got alongside of him I found a nice 
 reception awaiting me. The furious Frenchman was stand- 
 ing in the gangway of his ship frantically waving a rusty 
 old sword, while two men stood behind him armed with 
 
Battle with a Frenchman i6i 
 
 muskets and the rest of his crew were brandishing hand and 
 marlinsplkes, ugly weapons in the hands of sailors. Neither 
 my boat's crew nor myself were armed, as we only intended 
 to make a friendly visit, and I had no authority to use force 
 in boarding him, so I returned to the Georgia for further 
 orders. Captain Maury was provoked at the fellow's stub- 
 bornness and ordered us to cast loose our guns. We first 
 fired a blank cartridge which produced no effect. We then 
 fired a solid shot across his bow, with no better result. The 
 Georgia was being turned around all this time so that the 
 little Whitworth guns on the poop deck (stern chasers) 
 could be fired, but the order was given to fire before they 
 could clear the Frenchman and a projectile went screaming 
 over his forecastle. I never before saw a mainyard swing so 
 quickly, and the bark was hove to as though by magic. I got 
 into our boat again, this time accompanied by Lieutenant 
 Evans and an armed crew. As we passed under the stern of 
 the bark we saw that her name was La Patrie. At the gang- 
 way we were received by the captain, unarmed this time, 
 and I assured him that we only wanted to see his papers, and 
 explained to him that any American ship could have a 
 Frenchman on deck to forbid our coming aboard ; hence the 
 necessity of our seeing the proof of nationality for ourselves, 
 and that as a man-of-war we intended to exert that right. 
 To our surprise the Frenchman replied that he refused to 
 let us see his ship's papers unless we used force! The lieu- 
 tenant told me to ask him what kind of force he wished to 
 have used, and whether the presence of an armed boat's 
 crew was not sufficient, and getting angry he told me to ask 
 the Frenchman if he wanted to be knocked down as evidence 
 that force was being used. The captain replied that he only 
 wanted one of us to touch his coat-sleeve with a single fin- 
 ger, and taking my hand in one of his with the other he took 
 hold of my first finger and gently pressing it against the 
 sleeve of a sailor who was beside me, showed us how he 
 wanted it done. The lieutenant obliged him. He then 
 
1 62 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 showed the way into his cabin, and as Mr. Evans and I 
 entered the room, with a graceful bow he said, " Ici nous 
 sommes des messieurs" ("Here we are gentlemen"); and 
 not only showed his papers, which were absolutely correct, 
 but also opened a bottle of champagne for us. We thought 
 that we had parted on the most friendly terms, but some 
 days afterwards the Frenchman met and boarded a French 
 steamer and sent a report of the outrage (?), as he termed 
 it, to his Government, which would have caused us a great 
 deal of trouble if it had not been for a good piece of luck 
 which befell us in falling in with the French brig Diligente, 
 which had been knocked over by a squall and was lying 
 on her beam ends, out of food, and helpless, while every 
 wave washed over her and her exhausted crew. Her cargo 
 had shifted and her wearied men had been unable to right 
 her. We sent a number of our crew on board who soon re- 
 placed the cargo in its proper place and we spontaneously 
 burst into a hearty cheer as she regained an upright position. 
 Her captain was very grateful, especially for the provisions 
 we gave him, and he gave us several bottles of eau-de-vie de 
 Danzig with gold dust floating in it. This was the only thing 
 in the brig which was not saturated with salt water. The 
 Diligente hailed from Cherbourg, France, and her captain 
 gave us a letter to his owners telling them of his misfortune 
 and speaking in very complimentary terms of the assist- 
 ance we had given him, and begged us to mail it from the 
 first port we entered. 
 
 A few days after we had rescued the Frenchman we ex- 
 perienced quite a little uneasiness on our own account. A 
 smoke was seen on the horizon and shortly afterwards a 
 steamer appeared coming straight for us. We soon decided 
 that she was a merchantman, but that proved nothing, as 
 the United States Government had converted so many 
 merchant steamers into men-of-war. Owing to our foul 
 bottom the stranger gained rapidly on us. We went to our 
 guns and waited to see what was going to happen. On com- 
 
Captain Maury ill 163 
 
 ing abeam she proved to be the Portuguese steamer Bra- 
 ganza, who wanted a comparison of longitude, as something 
 had gone wrong with her chronometer. We were very glad 
 that that was all she wanted, for things were not going well 
 on board of the Georgia. 
 
 Captain Maury had been ill ever since we had left the 
 Cape of Good Hope. While there he had received letters 
 from home telling him that, owing to the maneuvers of the 
 Northern and Southern armies, his wife and children had 
 become refugees, and he did not know what had become of 
 them. He became very melancholy and rarely appeared on 
 deck. Dr. Wheeden spent most of his time in the cabin with 
 him. The discipline of the ship also missed the iron hand 
 of Lieutenant Chapman. Lieutenant Evans, who had suc- 
 ceeded Chapman as executive officer, was a most charming 
 and accomplished gentleman, but he was not a strict disci- 
 plinarian. Things had gone from bad to worse than bad, 
 until one day some of the stokers discovered that a coal 
 bunker was only separated from the spirit-room, where their 
 grog rations were stored, by a thin bulkhead; this they 
 bored through. They must have known the location of a 
 particular barrel of whiskey, for they bored through the 
 head of that also, and inserting a piece of lead pipe into the 
 hole they got all the liquor they (temporarily) wanted. This 
 they distributed among the crew and soon there was a battle 
 royal going on on the berth deck which the master-at-arms 
 was unable to stop. The first lieutenant went below and his 
 presence had the effect of causing a pause in the turmoil. 
 He persuaded the ringleaders to go on deck and appear at 
 the mainmast, which was the court-house on the old-time 
 men-of-war. Several of the men were sentenced to be placed 
 in irons and confined in the "brig" (ship's jail) on a diet of 
 bread and water. But the biggest bully in the ship swore 
 that the master-at-arms was not man enough to put him 
 in irons. The latter official was the chief policeman of the 
 ship ; he was undoubtedly a scientific boxer and boasted that 
 
164 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 he had once been a prize-fighter, but if that was so he must 
 have had a yellow streak in him, for it was evident that the 
 men had cowed him and that he did not dare make a move. 
 Here was a pretty kettle of fish ! — the authority of the 
 executive officer defied to his face. Instantly appreciating 
 the danger of such a state of affairs on such a ship as the 
 Georgia, I suddenly leaped upon the man and bore him to 
 the deck, where, in a jiffy, the master-at-arms placed the 
 bracelets on his wrists. The other mutineers, quietly extend- 
 ing their arms in sign of submission, were placed in irons, 
 and confined below. The discipline of the ship needed as 
 much repairing as the vessel did herself. It was time the 
 Georgia sought a civilized port for more reasons than one. 
 
CHAPTER XIX 
 
 Cherbourg — Letters from home tell of the deaths of my two brothers, 
 captains in Stonewall Jackson's corps — French fleet arrives to keep us in 
 order — Great storm and loss of flagship's launch and crew — Impressive mili- 
 tary pageant at funeral — Captain Maury relieved from the command of the 
 Georgia. — The C.S.S. Rappahannock — Kearsarge and Tuscarora waiting for 
 us outside. 
 
 We slowly dragged our heavy grass crop along and 
 entered the English Channel where we knew Federal cruis- 
 ers were on the watch, but we were fortunate enough not to 
 be seen by them, and in the middle of the night of October 
 28-29, 1863, we quietly stole into the harbor of Cherbourg, 
 France, and dropped anchor. 
 
 We had been at sea for eight long months, and with the 
 exception of our captain, not an officer on board had heard 
 from home. The news of our arrival at Cherbourg, however, 
 quickly spread and the U.S.S. Kearsarge quickly appeared 
 cruising up and down beyond the three-mile limit. But more 
 welcome than the sight of our would-be captor was a pack- 
 age of letters which had run through the blockade and had 
 been forwarded to us by the Confederate agents, Messrs. 
 Eraser, Trenholm & Co., of Liverpool. There was great 
 rejoicing for all save me — I received two saddening mis- 
 sives: one informed me of the death of my brother George, 
 a captain in the First Louisiana Infantry, in "Stonewall" 
 Jackson's division ; and when I opened the other it told me 
 of the death of my brother Thomas Gibbes, a captain of the 
 Seventh Louisiana, also with "Stonewall." 
 
 Gibbes had been badly wounded at Antietam, and be- 
 fore his wound was well healed had rejoined his regiment, 
 with the survivors of which he had been captured at 
 Kelly's Ford while covering the retreat of General Lee's 
 army. He was taken to Johnson's Island, where he died 
 a prisoner, leaving a charming young wife and two little 
 
1 66 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 baby boys to fight their own way in those troublous 
 times. 
 
 The morning after our arrival I was sent ashore to de- 
 liver to the owners of the brig Diligente the letter of her 
 captain. The owners published it, and it was well for us 
 they did, for already the French authorities had demanded 
 an explanation of our treatment of the bark Patrie. It 
 evened things up, and the people of Cherbourg, while not 
 at all gushing over us, treated us with courtesy. 
 
 We had not been at Cherbourg twenty-four hours when 
 the French ironclad fleet, headed by the flagship Couronne, 
 the vessel that afterwards umpired the fight between the 
 Alabama and the Kearsarge, entered the port, and the next 
 day a fleet of old-time three-deckers, line-of-battle ships, 
 also anchored near us. These, with the hundreds of guns 
 mounted in the forts and on the breakwater which formed 
 the artificial harbor, were certainly enough to keep even 
 the formidable (?) Georgia in order. 
 
 C.S. Cruiser Georgia, 
 Cherbourg, France, 
 December 5, 1863. 
 My dear Mother: — 
 
 I hope that you don't think your prodigal has forgotten you. 
 I have written to you from every port, but directed my letters to 
 Clinton, Louisiana, via the blockade, and would have continued 
 to do so had it not been for a letter I received here from Lily [my 
 sister Mrs. La Noue] dated from Macon, Georgia, telling me that 
 you had returned to New Orleans and were within the Federal 
 lines. 
 
 We have been in the drydock and the bottom of our ship is 
 clean once more, but she does look so ridiculously small alongside 
 of these French ironclads and the great wooden line-of-battle 
 ships. There are about twenty of them in all. 
 
 There has been a great storm here. Night before last one of 
 the line-of-battle ships, carrying eighty-four guns, dragged her 
 anchors and only brought up when she was within twenty yards 
 of our little cockleshell of a ship. I assure you we spent several 
 hours on the anxious bench while expecting every moment to be 
 
Great Storm and Loss 167 
 
 crushed by the Leviathan. The storm raged all the next day, the 
 battleships, as well as our little craft, pitching bows under into 
 every sea. Many of the fishing boats were wrecked on the coast 
 and the breakwater supposed to protect this harbor, which it 
 don't, at least in weather like this. Many tried to make the har- 
 bor, but were pitilessly thrown on the rocks and ground into splin- 
 ters among the boulders on the beach. One little fishing craft 
 made such a noble struggle — she weathered the end of the break- 
 water, but despite her heroic efforts it was evident that she must 
 be wrecked on the beach before reaching smooth water or shelter. 
 Anticipating trouble, the French flagship, the ironclad Couronne, 
 had a launch towing astern with twenty men and a sub-lieutenant 
 in it. The Couronne cast her off, and the young officer made a 
 gallant attempt to rescue the fisherman, but it was a hopeless 
 errand. We stood in silence on our deck and watched the pitiful 
 struggle against the elements, while our own ship was dragging 
 her anchors at which she was savagely tugging as she plunged 
 bows under at every dive and the huge seas would sweep over our 
 deck. At last the fishing smack struck the bottom and was almost 
 instantly lifted by a great wave which carried her amongst the 
 boulders smashing her to pieces. 
 
 Seeing that he could be of no assistance the officer in the launch 
 attempted to put her about — but she also was doomed. One 
 moment she was in the trough of the sea and the next instant the 
 crest of a great wave swept over her. Wave after wave followed in 
 rapid succession, turning her over and rolling her up the beach 
 as though she were a barrel, until she struck the boulders where 
 she was literally torn to pieces. It was heartrending to watch 
 those who had not been killed, or too badly crippled by the first 
 shock, struggling to save themselves. As the surf would recede, 
 they would stagger to their feet only to be knocked down by the 
 next wave and thrown violently against the jagged rocks, and 
 even after they were dead the pitiless sea continued to maim the 
 helpless bodies by picking them up and slamming them down 
 upon the stones. 
 
 When the storm abated, the remains of the dead were recovered 
 and taken to the navy yard where they were prepared for burial. 
 The funeral, the next day, was one of the most impressive sights 
 I ever witnessed. Ten thousand soldiers stood at " Present arms ! " 
 on either side of the road leading to the cemetery as the procession 
 passed between them. First came a large number of priests fol- 
 lowed by a military band playing the Dead March. Then came 
 
1 68 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 the twenty-one caissons bearing the bodies, each drawn by six 
 horses, the coffins being covered by the much loved " tri-couleur." 
 These were followed by a number of admirals and naval officers 
 according to rank. These in turn were followed by six thousand 
 sailors from the fleet. 
 
 Captain Maury was invited to attend the ceremony, and took 
 me with him as his aide. We were given a place in the procession 
 next after the admirals. 
 
 Arriving at the cemetery, we stopped in front of a great trench 
 where all of those gallant fellows were to be interred in one grave, 
 except the young officer who had commanded the launch — he had 
 a separate grave. His was the last coffin to be buried, and just 
 as it was about to be lowered an aide-de-camp of the Emperor 
 dashed up on horseback, and saluting Admiral La Rose, the rank- 
 ing officer present, he presented him with an order from the 
 Emperor and also a small package. Admiral La Rose read the or- 
 der aloud. It commanded that the accompanying cross of the 
 Legion of Honor should be pinned on the dead officer's breast. 
 The lid of the coffin was unscrewed, and in death the young fellow 
 was decorated with the bit of metal he had doubtless so much 
 coveted in life. The coffin was then lowered into the grave and the 
 earth covered these martyrs to duty. 
 
 The officers and men then withdrew to some little distance from 
 the newly made graves and stood watching a most thrilling spec- 
 tacle as battery after battery of horse artillery dashed up to the 
 edge of the graves, wheeled, unlimbered, fired a salvo, limbered 
 up again and disappeared at the gallop. 
 
 You may say what you please about Napoleonic tyranny (?), 
 but it must be a great government for a soldier or sailor to die 
 under. It may have been all a coup de tMdtre, but it looked splen- 
 did and sent a thrill through me. 
 
 I can form no idea as to what our future movements will be. 
 If I knew I would not tell you, as there is no knowing into whose 
 hands this letter may fall, so I can only ask you to continue writ- 
 ing me in care of Messrs. Eraser, Trenholm & Co., lo Rumford 
 Place, Liverpool, England. They will know where we are going, 
 even if we do not. 
 
 The Kearsarge is off the port waiting for us. She can wait. 
 When the little Georgia's bottom is cleaned, we will slip by her in 
 the night. 
 
 The last cartoon in the French comic papers, making fun of the 
 American war, represents two newly made graves alongside of 
 
The C.S.S. Rappahannock 169 
 
 each other. On the headstone of one is written "Nord," and on 
 the other "Sud." A dilapidated old slouch hat with a rooster's 
 feather in it rests on each grave, and underneath is written — 
 "Finis de la guerre dans TAmerique." 
 
 And now I must say good-bye, my dearest mother. With love 
 and kisses for you and my dear sisters, I am 
 
 Lovingly your son, 
 
 James Morris Morgan. 
 
 Captain Maury was summoned to Paris to explain about 
 our little fracas with the Patrie, and I accompanied him as 
 interpreter. Commodore Barron, C.S.N. , and some twenty- 
 odd other Confederate naval officers were in Paris by this 
 time, the juniors waiting for ships that were building. At 
 Captain Maury's own request, on account of his health. 
 Commodore Barron relieved him from the command of 
 the Georgia and ordered him to return to the Confederacy 
 — so I went back to my ship alone. 
 
 Every officer on the Georgia who could get leave got it, 
 and Lieutenant Ingraham and I had to keep watch and 
 watch, that is, four hours on and four off — sounds easy, 
 but is rather trying on a growing boy. There was no 
 competition among the higher officers for the honor of com- 
 manding the Georgia, so the post was conferred on Lieu- 
 tenant Evans. As for the juniors in Paris, they showed no 
 wild desire to serve on the little ship, either. Two lieu- 
 tenants who had a strong pull with the commodore came 
 to us, but managed to secure their detachments after being 
 on board only a couple of days. 
 
 The monotony of my existence was broken by my being 
 granted a week's leave of absence, which I utilized by going 
 to Paris, and from there to Calais to visit some midship- 
 men who were on board of the C.S.S. Rappahannock, with 
 whom I spent a morning before continuing my journey to 
 Liverpool. The Rappahannock is worthy of being men- 
 tioned, if only on account of the unusual way in which she 
 escaped from the Thames to become a Confederate cruiser. 
 
170 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 She was a condemned little British sloop-of-war and had 
 been sold at auction and bought by a Confederate agent. 
 The British Government knew all about the transaction 
 and was perfectly willing that the Confederates should 
 spend all the money they wanted to on her, but had no 
 intention whatever of allowing her to escape to sea. English 
 engineers, riggers, carpenters, joiners, and painters were 
 busily at work on her as she lay at the dock, when one day 
 Lieutenant W. P. A. Campbell, C.S.N. , attired in civilian 
 clothes, appeared on board of her armed with authority 
 from the supposed owner to make a thorough inspection. 
 It also conveniently happened that the engineers had up 
 steam and were testing the engines which they were 
 slowly turning over. Mr. Campbell amiably expressed 
 satisfaction with everything except the steering gear, and 
 insisted that the only way of testing that was to take the 
 vessel out into the stream and turn her around two or 
 three times. This was amiably agreed to and the lines se- 
 curing her to the dock were cast off. Mr. Campbell headed 
 her down the river, and listening to no protests, hoisted 
 the Confederate flag when he was beyond the marine 
 league, and with his unwilling crew of artisans steered for 
 Calais, which neutral port he entered claiming to be a 
 Confederate States man-of-war. Of course the incident 
 brought protests from the American Minister in London 
 and in Paris and stirred up quite an international row. 
 
 When I saw the Rappahannock at Calais, the French 
 were allowing us to spend all the money we wanted to 
 in fitting her for sea, but I do not believe they had the 
 vaguest idea of ever letting her escape again. 
 
 Continuing my journey to Liverpool, I spent two or 
 three delightful days visiting Mr. Prioleau at Allerton 
 Hall, where I met an old friend from New Orleans, Mr. 
 C. W. Miltenberger, and Alfred Trenholm (whose clothes 
 I had worn while in Charleston). These young gentle- 
 men, on account of failing health, had been discharged 
 
MAJOR W. P. A. CAMPBELL 
 
 Formerly of the C.S. Navy. Taken in Cairn in 1870 
 
Kearsarge and Tuscarora 171 
 
 from the Confederate Army and were recuperating in 
 Europe. 
 
 My leave expired, and I returned to the monotony of 
 my existence on board of the Georgia. It seemed that we 
 never should get to sea again. Drills, watches, and meals 
 — meals, watches, and drills. I don't think the French 
 cared how long we remained so long as we spent money 
 liberally on imaginary repairs (?). 
 
 At last Lieutenant Kirby King and Sydney Smith Lee, 
 the latter a younger brother of General Fitzhugh Lee, were 
 ordered to us, and that put an end to the discomfort of 
 keeping watch and watch, much to my delight. I suppose 
 that our weariness of remaining in an uninteresting port 
 was onl}'^ equaled by that of the crews of the Kearsarge and 
 the Tuscarora who were tumbling about in the chop seas 
 of the Channel waiting impatiently for us to come out. 
 They would take turns in coming in close enough to the 
 breakwater every day or two to see if we were still there 
 in the harbor, until I think we should have felt neglected 
 if they had failed to take an interest in us and ceased their 
 visits. 
 
CHAPTER XX 
 
 Leave Cherbourg — Storm ofif Cape Trafalgar — Coast of Morocco — 
 Anchor in the open sea near the Great Desert — Caravans — Moors bring 
 fish — Ancient Moor swims to the ship — We return visits and are kicked into 
 the sea — We bombard the troglodytes — Give up hope that the Rappa- 
 hannock will meet us — Weigh anchor and have a narrow escape from ship- 
 wreck and falling into the hands of the Moors. 
 
 One dark night in the middle of February, 1864, we 
 weighed our anchor as quietly as possible, got under way, 
 and slipped out of the western entrance to the harbor 
 without seeing anything of either the Kearsarge or her 
 consort, and with a clean bottom raced down the Channel 
 and soon found ourselves on the broad Atlantic. We saw 
 many ships, but molested none. Strange conduct for the 
 Georgia, at which we wondered. But none knew, save our 
 commander, whither we were bound, or what was our 
 mission. Day after day we raced at full speed under steam. 
 
 Off Cape Trafalgar one night we ran into a fearful 
 storm, the most terrific in my seafaring experience. We 
 put the ship's head into the wind and barely kept steerage- 
 way on her. The high seas dashed over the ship in such 
 volumes of water that to keep from being washed over- 
 board, Lieutenant King, the quartermaster, and I lashed 
 ourselves in the rigging ten feet above the deck. At one 
 time the wind was so furious that it blew the tops off the 
 enormous waves and the sea became one mass of seeth- 
 ing foam in which the little Georgia floundered and wal- 
 lowed until we had but little hopes that she would live 
 through it. But with daylight fortunately, for us, both 
 sea and wind went down, and by eight o'clock in the morn- 
 ing the officers were able to come out of the wardroom 
 and we were relieved. The door leading into the oflficers' 
 quarters as well as the hatches had been battened down 
 to keep the water out, and no one could get in or out while 
 
Coast of Morocco 173 
 
 the storm raged. Mr. King and I, as well as the starboard 
 watch, had been on deck since eight o'clock the previous 
 evening, and more exhausted men than we were could 
 hardly be imagined. 
 
 The first land we sighted was the coast of Morocco. 
 We passed down the coast in plain sight of the minarets of 
 the ancient city of Mogador. When we reached a place 
 where a range of barren-looking mountains ended at the 
 sea and the great Sahara Desert extended into the unknown 
 to the east and south, we dropped our anchor in the open 
 ocean about a mile or more from the shore and about 
 forty miles south of Mogador. We could see no signs of 
 vegetable or other life on the desolate-looking land, with 
 the exception of some bushes at the foot of the mountains. 
 Day after day we lay there lazily rolling on the swell of 
 the sea, the monotony only being broken occasionally by 
 watching camel caravans to or from Mogador come along 
 the beach and wind their way around the mountains, dis- 
 appearing in the apparently limitless and glaring desert 
 waste. 
 
 When the sirocco came in our direction from across the 
 burning desert, it carried with it fine particles of sand which 
 got into our eyes, ears, nose, and mouth, causing much 
 discomfort, and added to this was the almost intolerable 
 heat thrown off in the night by the thin iron sides of the 
 ship, which made sleep almost impossible. 
 
 Early one morning we were surprised by seeing an open 
 rowboat near us with five or six Moors in it. They came 
 alongside the ship and offered us some fresh fish which we 
 gratefully accepted, giving In exchange some old hoop 
 iron, two old rusty razors, and two or three dilapidated old 
 sheets out of which turbans could be fashioned. These were 
 much prized, and when they left us the last we saw of them 
 as they proceeded parallel with the beach instead of pulling 
 for the shore, they were evidently wrangling as to which 
 of them should have the turban material. 
 
174 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 With the exception of the fishermen we had seen no evi- 
 dence of there being inhabitants living on the shore near 
 us, although we had been at anchor for more than three 
 weeks, until about four o'clock one afternoon a round object, 
 looking somewhat like a white sponge, was seen floating 
 on the sea about half a mile off and between the ship and 
 the shore. The waves were some four or five feet high, 
 and as the strange object bobbed up and down on them it 
 was soon discovered that it was coming toward us, and as 
 it came nearer we discovered that it was the head of an 
 old man. Finally he reached our vessel and we lowered a 
 Jacob's ladder over the taffrail for him. With great effort 
 he dragged himself up it and fell exhausted on the deck. 
 Dr. Wheeden revived him with a drink of brandy and would 
 have repeated the dose, but the old Mohammedan — true 
 to his religion now that he had recovered his senses — 
 pointed a bony finger heavenward, shook his hoary head, 
 and muttered the holy name of Allah ! When the old man 
 was sufHciently rested, as he was clothed by only a ragged 
 piece of sacking which was wrapped around his loins, we 
 gave him some Christian raiment and a lot of old trash, 
 for which he seemed very grateful, and then we put 
 him in one of our boats which I was ordered to take 
 charge of, and put him on shore. Nearing the beach the 
 water became so shoal that the boat grounded when 
 more than twenty yards away from it, but the old man 
 stepped over the side and waded ashore with his newly ac- 
 quired treasures held high above his head. I saw no other 
 human being in sight and left him to find his way home 
 alone. 
 
 Several of us, seeing that the few natives we had met 
 were apparently disposed to be friendly, asked permission 
 to go ashore to stretch our legs with a little exercise. The 
 captain granted our request, at the same time instructing 
 us to go unarmed as evidence of our friendly intentions if 
 by chance we met any of the inhabitants. We got into a 
 
Kicked into the Sea 175 
 
 boat, and like little boys going on a holiday laughed and 
 joked with glee until the boat grounded, and the sailors, 
 with the exception of two boat-keepers, stepped into the 
 water, and we mounted on their backs and rode ashore, 
 dry shod, in great style. 
 
 It was delightful to feel the solid ground, or sand as it 
 happened to be, under our feet once more, and we began at 
 once to run and skylark up and down the beach. At the 
 foot of the cliffs, some forty yards from the water, there was 
 a growth of dwarf bushes. Suddenly — I never did know 
 how it happened — we were separated and surrounded by 
 hundreds of Moors armed with spears and old-fashioned 
 guns of extraordinary length whose barrels were banded 
 with silver at intervals of a foot or two apart. The Moors 
 were shaking their guns and brandishing their spears while 
 yelling like fiends, and all the time a seemingly endless 
 stream of the black demons poured out from the bushes. I 
 tried to see what had become of my companions, but could 
 only discern a surging, struggling mass of Moors in every 
 direction. One gigantic fellow seized me from behind and 
 whirled me around until I faced the sea, and while others 
 struck me with their hands, my particular giant preferred 
 to use his feet, and he kicked me until I was almost up to my 
 neck in the water. From my sensations I should judge that 
 the sole of that Moor's foot without further roughening 
 would have served very well for a blacksmith's rasp. Our 
 unarmed boat-keepers gamely waited for us, and when I 
 climbed into the boat I found my companions, who had 
 been similarly treated, already there — safe but very wet, 
 and looking very foolish. 
 
 When we returned to the Georgia we were disposed to 
 treat our experiences at the hands of the Moors as a good 
 joke, but our young captain could not be induced to regard 
 the matter in that light. In fact he was very indignant and 
 ordered the drummer to beat to quarters without giving us 
 time to take off our dripping clothes. The guns were cast 
 
176 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 loose and the order to fire given. The guns roared and the 
 screeching shells sped away to burst over the heads of the 
 astounded Moors, who stood not upon the order of their 
 going, but disappeared, not however so mysteriously as 
 they had appeared on the scene. The puzzle was solved: 
 they seemed to run right into the side of the clifif . Evidently 
 they were troglodytes and the caves were their homes. 
 Whether or not our shells had hurt any of them we never 
 knew. 
 
 Three weeks and more had passed and we were getting 
 very wearied. Our mission was now no longer a secret. We 
 were waiting for the Rappahannock for the purpose of giving 
 her our battery, ammunition, and a part of our crew — she 
 was supposed to bring her own officers. 
 
 The evening after our little fracas with the moody Moors, 
 the hour at which the discipline of the ship was usually sus- 
 pended and when the men, after their day's work, gathered 
 on the forecastle and sang their sailor songs, while the offi- 
 cers, having dined, were seated around the waist guns en- 
 joying their cigars and engaged in conversation or dreamily 
 listening to the words of a favorite sailor ditty, the refrain 
 of which was, "Eight bells began to go: I love to hear them 
 ring, my dear, and so do you, I know" — at this hour, the 
 most pleasant of the twenty-four, when even a lonesome 
 midshipman could butt into the conversation without fear 
 of being snubbed — the lonely captain, it seemed, also 
 craved the society of his fellow men, and he joined the group 
 around the gun where we were speculating on the causes 
 which might have delayed the Rappahannock. I was the 
 only person on board who had ever seen her, and I expressed 
 the opinion that she had never left port, and that anyhow 
 I believed the little Georgia, bad as she was, was the better 
 ship of the two — that the Rappahannock was a bluff- 
 bowed old water-bruiser that did not have any speed under 
 steam, and that my friends, the midshipmen, on board of 
 her had told me she was "hogged" (strained) by lying on 
 
A Narrow Escape from Shipwreck 177 
 
 the uneven bottom at low tide. I wound up my remarks by 
 saying that unless the French Government had changed its 
 attitude toward the Confederacy, there was little chance of 
 the Rappahannock ever joining us, as when I had seen her 
 in the slip at Calais two big chain cables were stretched from 
 pier to pier, one in front of her bow and the other behind 
 her stern, and that they were made fast around stone posts, 
 and on each post sat a gendarme to see that they were not 
 meddled with. The captain said he would give her just 
 forty-eight hours more to put in an appearance, and if by 
 that time she failed to materialize he would go and look for 
 her. 
 
 We did not wait the forty-eight hours of grace we had 
 given the dilatory Rappahannock, as something exciting 
 happened which changed our plans. A little before sundown 
 the following day the wind came out from the southwest 
 and blew a gale. The Georgia began to pitch bows under 
 with every sea that struck her, and then to drag her anchor. 
 We paid out more cable, but still she dragged. We let go our 
 other anchor, but the force of the wind increasing, we con- 
 tinued our promenade toward the rocky shore on which by 
 this time the Moors, having become aware of the straits we 
 were in, had assembled in hundreds to give us a warm recep- 
 tion in return for the compliments our guns had hurled at 
 them the day before. 
 
 Our fires were banked while we lay at anchor, and the 
 stokers appreciating the imminent danger were working like 
 mad to get up steam. We were now within some two hun- 
 dred yards of the shore, and an ugly black rock some thirty 
 feet away poked out its head between the angry-looking 
 waves as they swept over it. The Moors, like so many de- 
 mons, were dancing with delight on the shore while yelling 
 curses at us. No matter how ignorant one is of a savage 
 language, there is no need for an interpreter when the 
 natives are swearing at a fellow. Night was fast closing in 
 on us when at last the engineer reported that there was 
 
178 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 steam enough to start the engines. The order was given to 
 go ahead and the engine was started. Slowly at first, but 
 with increasing velocity it relieved the strain on our cables, 
 when, just as we had begun to have hopes that we were 
 saved, there was a crash in the engine room and we knew 
 that the wooden cogs had broken again ! For two hours the 
 engineers worked to repair the damage, and fortunately 
 during this time the anchors held so well that the ship's 
 progress toward destruction was very little, if any. It was 
 a long and anxious two hours, and above the roar of the 
 wind we could hear the yells of triumph emanating from 
 the throats of those black devils waiting for the catastrophe 
 which was to put us in their power, to say nothing of the 
 loot they expected to get out of the wreck of the ship. At 
 last the engine began to revolve again — at first very slowly, 
 and we anxiously followed each revolution in mortal dread 
 that it would break down again, but as it increased in power 
 and took the strain off of our anchors we commenced to 
 breathe freely again. Then came the welcome order to 
 weigh the port anchor, and after an interval the other was 
 also catheaded; but the progress we made away from the 
 shore was woefully slow in the teeth of that gale. When day 
 at last came we were clear of the danger and well out at sea 
 with a clear appreciation of Jack's sympathy in a storm for 
 "the poor people ashore in danger of having their heads 
 broken by falling tiles from the roofs." It was a most nar- 
 row and fortunate escape for us slaveholders, as had we not 
 been drowned in the surf, we most assuredly should have 
 been either murdered on the shore, or, worse still, sold into 
 slavery in accordance with the custom of the Moors in dis- 
 posing of their prisoners. Even if our fate had ever become 
 known to the outside world, there was no nation on earth 
 that would have lifted a voice for our release, save the 
 helpless and unrecognized "Confederate States" which 
 were already doomed for extinction. 
 
 I have always called this episode "the Confederacy's only 
 
Arrival at Bordeaux 179 
 
 Foreign War," unless that unfortunate affair with the Patrie 
 could be called a hostile event. 
 
 After a stormy voyage we arrived off the mouth of the 
 Garonne River, up which stream we steamed and dropped 
 anchor in front of the city of Bordeaux. 
 
CHAPTER XXI 
 
 Bordeaux — U.S.S. Niagara and Sacramento wait outside for us — Two 
 fine sloops-of-war intended for the Confederacy lay near, but beyond our 
 reach — Escape from the United States men-of-war — Liverpool — A hero at 
 last — Georgia put out of commission — Georgia captured by U.S.S. Niagara 
 — Last of the Georgia — Men-of-war, privateers, and pirates. 
 
 No sooner was it known that we had arrived at Bordeaux 
 than we were informed that the Georgia must leave at the 
 expiration of twenty-four hours — but what we did not 
 know about dodging neutrality proclamations was not 
 worth learning. So on one pretext or another we made our- 
 selves comfortable and prepared for an extended visit to 
 our unwilling hosts. The Niagara and the Sacramento, two 
 formidable men-of-war, were waiting for us at the mouth 
 of the river. 
 
 Day after day we gazed on two beautiful new and freshly 
 painted sloops-of-war intended to carry ten guns each. They 
 lay in the stream only about half a mile from us, and the 
 sight was tantalizing, for they belonged to us and had been 
 paid for with our money, and there they were, so very near, 
 but far beyond our reach, and there we were cooped up in a 
 little floating iron pot without speed enough to escape from 
 an enemy or strength sufficient to fight one. With boilers 
 and engines away above the water line it would have taken 
 an expert marksman to hit the Georgia any place except 
 in the magazines, boilers, or machinery. The French had 
 allowed us to build these formidable ships knowing what 
 they were intended for. They had taken our money, and 
 now that they were finished, the Government suddenly 
 became very punctilious about its neutrality. 
 
 An order had come through the blockade that the 
 Georgia, on account of her deficiencies in speed and fighting 
 ability, should be put out of commission, and we thought 
 we were going to part with the little ship in Bordeaux, but 
 
Liverpool i8i 
 
 we were mistaken. It was written that we should take one 
 more chance in her. We knew that two United States men- 
 of-war were lying off the mouth of the Garonne and that 
 either of them, if they caught sight of us, would have us at 
 their mercy, and we were somewhat surprised when the 
 order reached us to proceed to Liverpool before dismantling 
 the ship. We got under way very quietly and proceeded 
 down the river to a point just out of sight of its mouth and 
 there waited for night to shield us from our enemies. It was 
 very dark when we passed out of the Garonne and crept by 
 the big ships which apparently did not even suspect our 
 proximity. We crossed the Bay of Biscay without further 
 adventure and entered St. George's Channel where it was 
 very foggy. A pilot boat approached us and asked if we 
 wanted a pilot. We told him "yes" and at the same time 
 hoisted the Confederate flag. When the pilot, who had not 
 yet left his boat, saw the colors, he rudely remarked that 
 he "would be damned if he would pilot any damned pirate ! " 
 — and going about, he disappeared in the fog while express- 
 ing the very humane hope that we would pile up on the 
 rocks. Despite his kind wishes, however, we safely entered 
 the Mersey and dropped anchor off Birkenhead, opposite 
 Liverpool, about three o'clock in the afternoon. The anchor 
 had barely time to reach the bottom when the captain sent 
 for me and said he was going to allow me to go ashore at 
 once, as I had friends in Liverpool, but stipulated that I 
 should wear my uniform. We had heard that feeling toward 
 us had changed and English sympathy, especially among the 
 lower classes, was now very much in favor of the North. 
 If that was so I did not see any exhibition of it — I have 
 always suspected that my captain used me as a trial horse 
 to ascertain what sort of a reception awaited us. If that was 
 his object, he ought to have felt highly gratified with his 
 experiment, for I went alone to a theatre that night, and as 
 soon as my gray uniform was noticed a whisper went 
 through the audience that the Alabama had arrived in the 
 
1 82 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 port. Some one proposed three cheers for the Alabama, and 
 they were given with a will. The manager of the theatre 
 elbowed his way to where I was sitting and asked me to 
 accompany him. I thought he was going to put me out, but 
 instead of that he escorted me to a box and kindly took a 
 seat by me. Every time the curtain went down, the audience 
 cheered, not the actors, but the Alabama — and every time 
 they cheered the manager would insist that I should stand 
 up and bow my acknowledgments of the compliment. After 
 the show was over, perfect strangers introduced themselves 
 and begged for the honor of my company at supper, but the 
 manager, who had taken complete possession of me by this 
 time, declined all invitations for me, and carried me off in 
 triumph to sup with some of the leading actors and actresses 
 of his company, who made much of me. If I was not a hero 
 I was at least conspicuous on this occasion, and what does 
 a hero go heroing for if it is not to be flattered by such 
 receptions as this one was? 
 
 On the loth of May, 1864, the little Georgia was warped 
 into the Birkenhead dock. All hands were summoned to 
 the quarter-deck for the last time. Our captain read his 
 orders to put the ship out of commission. At the word of 
 command, the Confederate flag, proudly flying at the peak, 
 the Union Jack on the bowsprit, and the commander's 
 pennant at the masthead, all came fluttering down to- 
 gether — and the cruise of the Georgia had passed into 
 history. She was a poor miserable little tin kettle of a craft, 
 but I loved her. I too was poor, and nothing much to brag 
 of, and despite the fact that my life, as the youngest of her 
 officers, and the only one of my grade, had been very 
 lonely, still she had been the only home I had known for 
 thirteen months and had borne me safely through many 
 dangers and over thirty-three thousand miles of water. 
 We bade good-bye to our shipmates — many of us never 
 to meet again, and now (1916) I believe myself to be the 
 only survivor of the officers of the lucky little cruiser. 
 
Last of the Georgia 183 
 
 The Georgia was dismantled and sold to an Englishman 
 by the name of Jones, who, in good faith, fitted her out as 
 a merchantman and entered into a contract with the Por- 
 tuguese Government to carry the mails between Lisbon 
 and the Cape Verde Islands. When she arrived off the 
 mouth of the Tagus intending to take on board the Lisbon 
 mails, she was captured by the U.S.S. Niagara, her old 
 pursuer, and sent to the United States as a prize. Her owner 
 never again saw his ship or his money. 
 
 Once again I saw the Georgia — in 1866. On this occa- 
 sion she was lying at a wharf in Charleston Harbor being 
 loaded with cotton. I don't believe she had been painted 
 since I left her in Liverpool and she looked like any other 
 dirty old tramp steamer. I asked her mate if the wooden 
 cogs ever gave him any trouble, and he replied, "Only 
 when she gets us in a tight place in bad weather, or we 
 are trying to avoid a collision." In 1867 the Georgia was 
 wrecked on the rocky coast of the Gulf of St. Lawrence 
 where her iron bones slowly rusted away. 
 
 The damage done to the North by these little cruisers 
 should not be estimated simply by the number of ships 
 they captured, for it should be remembered that for every 
 ship burned hundreds took shelter under neutral flags 
 never to return to the American mercantile marine. No 
 country ever erected so many monuments to its soldiers 
 as can be seen in the Southern States, and yet there is not 
 a single memorial to the Confederate Navy. If the object 
 of war is to inflict damage on the enemy, how stands the 
 account between the army and navy of the South? Twice 
 the Southern armies invaded the territory of the North, 
 and on each occasion were hurled back across the Potomac 
 before they had had time to spy out the richness of their 
 foe's land. It is true that they fought valiantly and killed 
 many brave Northerner's and more German mercenaries, 
 but the loss of these men did not affect the conquerors in 
 the least as they swept through the fair Southern land with 
 
1 84 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 fire and sword. But the Confederate Navy struck the 
 North such a vital blow, by destroying their mercantile 
 marine, that although half a century has elapsed since the 
 scenes I have tried to describe took place, the United 
 States has not yet, and will not for many years to come, 
 recover her former lucrative carrying trade on the high 
 seas. 
 
 The Southern naval officer has never been able to under- 
 stand why his compatriots always refer to the Alabama 
 and her consorts as "privateers." Why privateers? A 
 privateer is a vessel belonging to private parties, as its 
 name implies. She is provided with a "letter of marque" 
 authorizing her to prey on ships belonging to an enemy, 
 and also to protect her against being treated as a pirate. 
 A privateersman is a fellow with all the instincts of a pirate, 
 but without the courage to hoist the "Jolly Roger." 
 
 A man-of-war is a national ship, a sort of floating fortress, 
 belonging to a government. Her officers hold commissions 
 under that government, and her crew are shipped regu- 
 larly in exactly the same way soldiers are mustered into 
 the army on land. Her officers take prizes or burn ships 
 only in obedience to orders which they are sworn to obey 
 and not for the object of enriching themselves. 
 
 In the North the Confederate cruisers are always spoken 
 of as damnpirates, as though it was one word. Why? These 
 ships were regularly commissioned by a de facto govern- 
 ment to whom they belonged, and were officered by men 
 who, with rare exceptions, were the product of the United 
 States Naval Academy. The crews were regularly enlisted 
 men. As a man-of-warsman is simply a soldier who fights 
 on the water, how came it that I was a pirate on the Georgia 
 and became a regular Confederate naval officer when at- 
 tached to a naval battery on shore? Was it because of the 
 boat and the water? If so, did the armies of Lee and John- 
 ston become pirates and deserve the hangman's noose every 
 time they crossed a river on a pontoon bridge or waded a 
 
The " Damnpirates " 185 
 
 creek? Why should a man who cannot restrain patriotic 
 cheers whenever he hears a band play "Marching through 
 Georgia," yell with rage and indignation when the destruc- 
 tion wrought by the Southern cruisers is mentioned? Is the 
 use of the torch in war so much more reprehensible on the 
 water than it is on land? 
 
 Some day, it is to be hoped, an unbiased history will be 
 written which will give full credit to the Confederate Navy, 
 not only for the gallant manner in which it bore itself 
 in action, but also for the wonderful resourcefulness dis- 
 played by its officers, who, when the "bonnie blue flag 
 was hoisted on high," found that their navy consisted 
 of one burned frigate, and what was left of her was sunk 
 alongside of the navy-yard dock at Norfolk. This wreck 
 they, by original designs of their own, converted into the 
 formidable ironclad ram Virginia. The only thing about 
 her that never would stick was her name, as the people. 
 North and South, never would call her by any other name 
 than the Merrimac. History, when truly written, will also 
 tell how those Southern naval officers went with their men 
 into the forests with axes and cut down trees and hewed 
 out timbers with which they built gunboats, and how these 
 same men went through the country gathering old rails and 
 scrap-iron with which they armored those boats and called 
 them ironclads; and above all, how they fought these make- 
 shift men-of-war after they built them. It will also tell 
 how the C.S.S. Manassas, an old tugboat, was converted 
 into an ironclad ram and was the first craft of that charac- 
 ter used in war to ram an enemy. It will also tell how the 
 Confederates were the first to use the torpedo boat, the 
 submarine boat, and floating and stationary mines in actual 
 war, and how they built and nearly finished the ironclad 
 Mississippi at New Orleans, certainly the first warship 
 with three screws ever built in America. 
 
 After Norfolk was evacuated, the South had no navy 
 yard. The Albemarle and Arkansas, ironclads, were built 
 
1 86 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 in cornfields, and other formidable ironclads were built 
 between wharves at Charleston and elsewhere. For artil- 
 lery they had only obsolete guns that had been left at the 
 Norfolk navy yard at the commencement of the war. Lieu- 
 tenant Brook, C.S.N. , made a gun which was regarded 
 by both sides as the most formidable weapon in use at that 
 time. It was the irony of fate that the United States Gov- 
 ernment, which had branded the Confederate cruisers as 
 "pirates on the high seas," should have built among the 
 first ships of its new navy (after the war) two "commerce 
 destroyers," the Columbia and the Minneapolis, ships of 
 great speed and cruising radius, and with little or no light- 
 ing power. 
 
CHAPTER XXII 
 
 Paris — Alabama sunk by Kearsarge — Havre — Southampton — Ordered 
 to return to the Confederacy — Halifax — Sail for Bermuda and passengers 
 mistake us for pirates — St. George's, Bermuda — Take passage in the block- 
 ade-runner Lillian — Chased by U.S.S. Shenandoah and have narrow escape 
 running through blockading fleet off Wilmington. 
 
 While dawdling in Paris in the month of June, 1864, 
 waiting for ships that were never to materialize, at least 
 for our purposes, we were startled one day by the news 
 that the Alabama had arrived in the port of Cherbourg, 
 and that the U.S. sloop-of-war Kearsarge was waiting out- 
 side for her. We knew at once that there was going to be 
 a fight, and so confident were we that the Alabama would 
 win that among ourselves we decided that the Kearsarge 
 must not be crippled too severely, but that the Alabama 
 with her superior speed was to run alongside of her antag- 
 onist and carry her by boarding, and then turn her into a 
 Confederate cruiser. So confident were we that we selected 
 the officers for the new addition to our navy. But we had 
 not taken into account the fact that the Alabama had not 
 been in a drydock in more than two years and that her 
 copper hung to her bottom in elbows, which greatly re- 
 tarded her speed. Well, the fight came off and the Kear- 
 sarge, which was not a fast ship, proved that she could 
 run two knots to the Alabama's one, in her then condition. 
 She took up her own position at a distance which suited 
 her and the world knows the result. 
 
 As soon as the unpalatable news of the result of the 
 battle reached Paris, we were ordered to get out of the city 
 at once and to scatter. I went to Havre, where I received 
 orders to proceed to Southampton, and report to Com- 
 mander Kell, the former executive officer of the Alabama, 
 who would give me further instructions. 
 
 At Southampton I found, among other officers who had 
 
1 88 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 been saved from a watery grave by the English yacht 
 Deerhound when the Alabama went down, Becket Howell, 
 a brother of Mrs. Jefferson Davis, who was a lieutenant 
 of marines, and Midshipmen Anderson and Maffitt, and I 
 spent several days with them wandering around the curious 
 old English town, the observed of all the observers, who 
 seemed to take great delight in calling attention to the 
 "pirates." 
 
 With Commander Kell I went from Southampton to 
 Liverpool, where we were joined by several other officers 
 who were going to make the attempt to run the blockade. 
 Among them was Lieutenant R. T. Chapman, who had been 
 executive officer of the Georgia when she was first placed 
 in commission. Mr. Chapman was now entrusted with a 
 special mission to take the great seal of the Confederate 
 States, which had recently been completed in London, to 
 Richmond. Lieutenant Evans, who had been the last com- 
 mander of the Georgia, Lieutenant Campbell, who had taken 
 the Rappahannock out of the Thames, Lieutenants Ingra- 
 ham and King, and Passed Midshipman Walker were also 
 in the party. 
 
 We took passage in the Cunarder Africa plying between 
 Liverpool and Boston, stopping at Halifax, Nova Scotia, on 
 her way. Naturally it was more conducive to the health 
 and longevity of our party to get off at Halifax. The voyage 
 was a rough one, and the old paddlewheel tub was crowded 
 with Yanks who scowled at us in a very unfriendly way. 
 
 As we entered the harbor of Halifax, Commander Kell 
 said that, as I had been there before and knew the town, I 
 must jump ashore the instant the ship touched the dock and 
 run to the hotel and engage rooms for the party. It was 
 twilight when I reached the hostelry, and there was standing 
 behind the counter a man in a dress suit reading a letter. 
 I asked him whether or not we could get accommodations, 
 but he took no notice of me. I am afraid I repeated my 
 inquiry in rather a peremptory manner, for he turned and 
 
Sail for Bermuda 189 
 
 left the office, saying as he departed, "Young man, I am not 
 a waiter in this establishment!" At that moment the clerk 
 arrived with a horrified expression on his face and told me 
 that I had made a dreadful mistake, that the gentleman was 
 Mr. Cyrus W. Field (who had laid the first Atlantic cable) 
 and that he was waiting for his carriage to go to the Govern- 
 ment House where Lord Mulgrave, the governor-general, 
 was giving a dinner in his honor that evening ! 
 
 After a couple of days' stay in Halifax we took passage 
 on a small British steamer called the Alpha which plied on 
 the line between Halifax, Bermuda, and St. Thomas, West 
 Indies. She was crowded with passengers, but they were 
 not disposed to be friendly with us. Doubtless they had 
 become prejudiced by reading about "pirates" in yellow- 
 back novels. We kept entirely to ourselves. 
 
 In the early mornings we would gather on the little poop 
 deck and pass away the time until the gong sounded for 
 breakfast, when we would fall in behind Commander Kell, 
 according to rank, and in Indian file walk into the saloon 
 and take our seats. Commander Kell was a most command- 
 ing figure, being six feet three or four inches in height. When 
 he sailed from New Orleans in the Sumter three years pre- 
 viously, he had determined to let his beard grow until he 
 saw his wife again. It now reached to his waist and flowed 
 over his breast like a waterfall — it was very red. He al- 
 lowed only his intimates to see it, however, as he kept it 
 plaited and stuck down his shirt collar. Ordinarily his 
 beard looked to be about three inches long with the ends all 
 turned in under his chin. One morning we were seated as 
 usual on the poop when Commander Kell produced from the 
 inner recesses of his shirt front the wonderful beard and 
 proceeded to comb it out. Before he had finished the intri- 
 cate operation the gong sounded, and with his habitual con- 
 sideration for others, he said that he would not keep us 
 from our breakfasts while he put up his extraordinary hir- 
 sute adornment, and he led the way to the saloon with his 
 
190 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 great red beard flowing over his manly chest. As he entered 
 the door the passengers were all seated at the breakfast 
 tables, and to our great consternation some idiot screamed 
 out, "The pirates are going to take us!" Then followed a 
 scene I shall never forget. Men dove under the tables and 
 the women fell on their knees and begged for mercy. As for 
 us — we were simply scared into speechlessness. It was 
 Commander Kell's beard that had caused the fright — the 
 passengers jumping to the conclusion that there were other 
 pirates secreted on the ship, and that the time to take her 
 and make them walk the plank had arrived. The captain 
 of the Alpha rushed aft to find out what had happened, and 
 even he did not recognize Commander Kell at first. Of 
 course there was a hearty laugh when the mystery of the 
 beard was explained, and we were all much better friends 
 for the rest of the voyage. 
 
 At St. George, Bermuda, our party was divided and took 
 passage on several of the blockade-runners then lying in the 
 harbor. Lieutenants Campbell, Ingraham, King, and my- 
 self (the midshipman) went on board the Lillian commanded 
 by as big a braggart and blowhard as ever commanded a 
 ship. 
 
 It was in the month of July, 1864, and by this time the 
 blockade of the Southern coast was so complete that to get 
 into a Southern port it was necessary to elude the United 
 States war-vessels three separate times on each trip. 
 Around the Bermuda Islands cruisers hovered to catch 
 their prey when the blockade-runner was only a few miles 
 from the neutral port, either coming or going. About fifty 
 miles off the Southern coast other cruisers awaited them, 
 and of course the channels leading into the Southern har- 
 bors were closely guarded. We passed out of the narrow and 
 tortuous channel, which connects the harbor of St. George 
 and the sea, in daylight, and then lingered near the shore 
 until night shrouded our movements when we started at 
 full speed for Wilmington, North Carolina, and soon ran 
 
The Blockade-runner Lillian 191 
 
 into some very foul weather. The Lillian was a very small 
 paddlewheel steamer whose deck was not more than three 
 or four feet above the water line, and she drew only between 
 seven and eight feet of water. In heavy seas she labored so 
 that she spent about as much time under the water as she 
 did on top of it — reminding one of the sailor's commentary 
 on the verse of the Bible about "Those who go down to the 
 sea in ships see the wonders of the Lord": "That may be 
 true about full-rigged ships," said the sailor: "but I can tell 
 the fellow who wrote it that them as go to sea in barks, 
 brigs, schooners, or other small craft, they see hell!" 
 
 We floundered across the Gulf Stream, and on the after- 
 noon of the night we expected to make our dash through the 
 blockading fleet, and while we were still distant some fifty 
 miles from the Cape Fear River, a big, bark-rigged, steam 
 sloop-of-war, which we afterwards learned was the U.S.S. 
 Shenandoah, caught sight of us and gave chase. 
 
 The captain, when in his cups, would swear by all the 
 gods of the sea that the little Lillian could run seventeen 
 knots an hour, but we were to witness the phenomenon of a 
 heavy man-of-war, that could not make more than nine or 
 ten knots at most, gain rapidly on us, as our fool captain 
 persisted in steering a course which permitted of the war- 
 ship carrying all of her immense spread of sail. Our captain 
 went below and stowed several big drinks of brandy under 
 his vest, and then, coming on deck, in a spirit of braggadocio, 
 hoisted the Confederate flag. Mr. Campbell ordered us to 
 go below and put on our uniforms and side arms, as we 
 wished to be captured, if captured we had to be, as officers 
 of the Confederate Navy. 
 
 Returning to the quarter-deck we awaited developments. 
 The warship still steadily gained. Within an hour from the 
 time she sighted us she fired a shot. We naval officers knew 
 that she was only trying to get the range, as we saw the 
 projectile fall short several hundred yards from us, but our 
 captain thought that was the best she could do, and with 
 
192 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 his habitual swagger he mounted to the little bridge which 
 reached from one little paddlebox to the other, and from 
 that point of vantage he looked down on us and in the most 
 dramatic manner said, "I want you naval officers to know 
 that I am captain of her as long as a plank will float ! " Just 
 then the Shenandoah, having got the range, sent a scream- 
 ing rifled projectile through both paddleboxes, the shot pass- 
 ing only a foot or two under the bridge on which the captain 
 was standing. With a yell of dismay he threw up his hands 
 and came scampering down the ladder, screaming, "Haul 
 that flag down. I will not have any more lives sacrificed !" 
 Nothing besides the paddleboxes had as yet been touched 
 unless we except the captain's yellow streak. Lieutenant 
 Campbell walked to the taffrail, a distance of some ten feet 
 from where he had been standing, and took up a position 
 alongside the little flagstaff from which the Confederate 
 colors were fluttering. Laying his hand on the flag halyards 
 he quietly said: "Captain, if you want to give up this boat, 
 turn her over to me. I will not allow you to surrender her. 
 These officers are branded as pirates, and according to Pres- 
 ident Lincoln's proclamation may be hung if captured." 
 Just then the man-of-war yawed and let fly her whole broad- 
 side, cutting the Lillian up considerably. The captain looked 
 dazed for a moment, but was brought out of his mental 
 stupor by a shot from a rifled gun which grazed the top of 
 one of the boilers letting the steam out with a roar. The 
 engine-room force rushed on deck and gathered around us. 
 The captain bolted for the booby hatch leading down into 
 the cabin, stopping only long enough to say: "I told the 
 agent in Bermuda how it would be if he forced me to take a 
 lot of pirates on board. If you are going to take my ship 
 away from me, take her!" — and disappeared below. Mr. 
 Campbell, as cool as though nothing extraordinary was 
 taking place, turned to us and said, "Kill the first man 
 who touches those flag halyards." 
 
 The chief engineer, a game little fellow, informed Mr. 
 
Chased by U.S.S. Shenandoah 193 
 
 Campbell that the boilers could be disconnected from each 
 other, a precaution against just such an accident as had 
 happened, and that the boat, with the immense pressure of 
 steam she was carrying, would run until the steam from 
 the injured boiler cooled off sufficiently to allow the stokers 
 to return to their duties. He added that he had been a 
 prisoner once in Fort Lafayette and had no desire to return 
 there. The crew gallantly cheered his remarks. 
 
 All this time the Shenandoah was yawing first to star- 
 board and then to port, apparently so certain that she had 
 us that she was amusing her crew at target practice. Mr. 
 Campbell went into the pilot house and took command 
 of the Lillian. The first order he gave changed our course 
 so that the man-of-war had to take in her sails, and after 
 that we appeared to be holding our own in the contest of 
 speed. Shots continued to fly over and around us, occa- 
 sionally one striking the frail sides causing the splinters to 
 fly as it passed through. The shells were bursting and their 
 fragments whistling all around us. We were dripping wet 
 from the spray thrown up by projectiles which hit the 
 water alongside. In the midst of it all Mr. Campbell 
 ordered me to go down into the cabin and report to him 
 what the captain was doing. I reported: "Captain in his 
 berth dead drunk with an empty bottle of brandy beside 
 him." 
 
 All this time Lieutenant Campbell was edging the LiK 
 Han in toward the land which we sighted between sundown 
 and dark, and how we did pray that night would come 
 soon. With our light draft we continued the "edging-in" 
 maneuvre until the heavy man-of-war, drawing some 
 eighteen or twenty feet of water, had to change her course 
 for fear of striking the bottom. She hauled to the south- 
 ward with the object of heading us off from Wilmington, 
 from which port we were far to the northward by this 
 time. We had to change our course to the southward, 
 giving the broadside of the Shenandoah a fine target as 
 
194 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 we steamed in parallel lines down the coast, the Lillian 
 being so close into the beach that she was rolling on the 
 curlers of the outer line of surf. Night at last came to our 
 relief, — or at least we thought it did, — when to our 
 amazement two columns of flame about thirty feet high 
 shot up out of our little smokestacks! This gave the war- 
 ship a fine target to exercise her crew in night practice, 
 of which she at once took advantage. Our engineer ex- 
 plained that to get more steam he had caused half a dozen 
 bottles of turpentine to be thrown into the furnaces. The 
 beacon soon expended its energy, however, and without 
 further molestation we continued on our way to Wilming- 
 ton. 
 
 We had hopes of reaching the bar before daylight, and 
 thus elude the vigilance of the blockading fleet, but luck 
 and the speed of the Lillian were against us. Day broke 
 when we were still a couple of miles away and the fleet at 
 once saw us and opened fire. We had no choice but to go 
 on, as the last few shovelfuls of coal on board were then 
 being tossed into the furnaces. Fortunately none of the 
 shots touched our remaining boiler or machinery. There 
 was one small gunboat right in our path, inside of the bar, 
 and very close to Fort Fisher. The people in the fort and 
 on the gunboat must have been asleep. Lieutenant Camp- 
 bell ordered the man at the wheel to steer for her, saying 
 that she was so near the fort that she would not dare fire, 
 as Fort Fisher would blow her out of the water if she did. 
 He was right — for when she saw us coming she slipped 
 her cable and scampered ofif without firing a shot, and a 
 few minutes afterwards we dropped our anchor in safety 
 under the sheltering guns of the famous fortress. 
 
 The rattling of the chain cable, when the anchor was 
 dropped, had awakened our captain from his drunken 
 sleep, and he shortly appeared on deck looking very sheep- 
 ish, but the arrival of several officers from the fort soon 
 caused him to resume his swaggering air. Resuming his 
 
Running the Blockade 195 
 
 r61e as captain he received them at the gangway, and the 
 first one who stepped on to the deck seized his hand and 
 exclaimed, "Well done, captain! that was the most daring 
 dash through the blockade we have yet witnessed!" The 
 captain modestly replied, "Oh, it is nothing; we have to 
 take some chances in our business, you know!" And Lieu- 
 tenant Campbell, standing a few feet away, never said a 
 word. 
 
 The captain invited the army officers (but none of us) 
 into his cabin and opened champagne. Champagne at six 
 o'clock in the morning had no terrors for a Confederate 
 soldier. This same captain, after the damages to the Lil- 
 lian had been repaired at Wilmington, loaded her with 
 cotton, and started out again. He stopped and surrendered 
 her when the first shot was fired and before any damage 
 had been done. From a blockade-runner the Lillian was 
 converted into a United States blockader. 
 
 As the Lillian was being made fast to the wharf at Wil- 
 mington, two men on the wharf became involved in a diffi- 
 culty and, according to the custom of the country, drew 
 their revolvers and began to shoot. One of them fell and 
 floundered around on the planks like a chicken with its 
 neck half wrung. Lieutenant Campbell patriotically ex- 
 claimed, "My own, my native land! Now I am sure that I 
 am home again!" 
 
 In his report to the Navy Department concerning the 
 chase of the Lillian, Captain Ridgely, U.S.N., command- 
 ing the Shenandoah, says: — 
 
 Sir: — 
 
 At 4 P.M. made another blockade-runner in latitude 36.34. 
 N., Longitude 76.33. W., steering to the northward and west- 
 ward. We made chase and overhauled her quite fast. She only 
 escaped by darkness and running into shoal water. We fired 140 
 shots at her, and I think some of them took effect. He was a bold 
 blockade-runner and flew the rebel flag as long as we could see 
 him, . . .^ 
 
 ^ See Rebellion Records, vol. 10. 
 
196 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 Abstract of log of U.S.S. Shenandoah: — 
 
 Saturday, July 30th, 1864 — At 3.45 p.m. sighted a steamer 
 burning black smoke to the eastward; made all sail in chase. At 
 4.30 P.M. made stranger out to be a double smokestack, side- 
 wheel steamer, apparently a blockade-runner, standing to the 
 northward and westward. At 5.45, he showed rebel colors. Called 
 the first division and powder division to quarters and began to 
 fire at her with the 30 and 150 pounder rifled Parrott. At 6 p.m. 
 beat to quarters and fired all the divisions. At 7 p.m. took in fore- 
 topgallantsail and foresail. At 7.30 took in foretopsail. 
 
 During the chase fired 70 rounds from 30 pounder Parrott, 
 53 rounds from 150 pounder Parrott, 18 rounds from XI inch 
 guns, and one round from 24 pounder howitzer. . . . ^ 
 
 After his capture the captain of the Lillian in answer to 
 the questions of the examining officer gave the following 
 version of the chase : — 
 
 My name is Daniel Martin, a native of Liverpool, England. 
 Was three weeks at Wilmington repairing boiler injured in chase. 
 The Confederate colors were hoisted by some of the passen- 
 gers. . . } 
 
 * See Naval War Records. ' See Naval War Records. 
 
CHAPTER XXIII 
 
 Shells dropping in the grass-grown streets of Charleston, South Carolina 
 — Mr. Trenholm is Secretary of the Confederate Treasury — Columbia — Mr. 
 Trenholm's beautiful villa — Go to Richmond and ask the millionaire Secre- 
 tary for the hand of his daughter — Mrs. Trenholm calls on Mrs. (?) Stephens. 
 
 At Wilmington I went to a wretched little cottage which 
 sheltered several naval officers who were stationed in the 
 town. I thought our condition in the Confederacy was 
 bad enough when I had left its shores two years before, 
 but these officers had literally nothing in the way of cloth- 
 ing besides their shabby uniforms, threadbare and patched. 
 I felt ashamed of my new uniform, made by a fashionable 
 London tailor, and my well-laundered white shirt, so I 
 moved my trunk into the centre of the room and insisted 
 on a divide of its contents. I had just come from a land of 
 plenty and I had come in an empty ship, and these brave 
 fellows were suffering for the simplest necessities. The for- 
 eign owners of blockade-runners no longer brought cloth- 
 ing or provisions into the stricken country, as they had 
 found it more profitable to bring only a little gold with 
 which they could buy all the depreciated Confederate cur- 
 rency they wanted to buy cotton with. Only the boats 
 engaged in the risky business which belonged to the Con- 
 federate Government, and those belonging to Fraser, 
 Trenholm & Co. and one or two other Southerners, ever 
 brought cargoes into the blockaded ports any more. The 
 foreigner wanted cotton, and if he could get that for his 
 gold the sufferings of our people did not interest him. I 
 never could understand why President Davis never issued 
 a proclamation forbidding an empty blockade-runner en- 
 tering our ports. 
 
 I had been only a few hours in Wilmington when I re- 
 ceived the usual order in such cases, to proceed to my 
 home, notify the Secretary of the Navy as to my address, 
 
198 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 and to there await orders. I had no home — so I deter- 
 mined to go to Charleston and notify the Secretary from 
 there. Arriving in Charleston I stepped on to the platform 
 and boldly asked for a cab. My modest request was greeted 
 with laughter by the few loafers who were there assembled. 
 If the negro cabmen had not gone to the front, their horses 
 had. Knowing my way, however, I left my baggage at the 
 station and started on the long walk to Mr. Trenholm's 
 office which was located on one of the wharves. I soon 
 found myself in the deserted part of the city where the 
 shells were falling. I passed through King Street to Went- 
 worth and followed the latter street to Meeting. Ruin 
 was on every side of me: the grass in the street was above 
 my knees; not a human being was to be seen. I turned into 
 the battered public market to take advantage of the shade 
 afforded by the roofs of its dilapidated sheds and because 
 no grass was growing under them — not even a turkey 
 buzzard disputed my right of way, as they were in the 
 habit of doing before and after the war, in that particular 
 locality. My surroundings were not cheerful and my 
 gloomy thoughts were not dispelled by the bursting of a 
 shell from the historic "Swamp Angel" and the whirring 
 of its fragments which passed unpleasantly close to me. 
 
 Arriving at the wharves, to my surprise I found a battery 
 erected within a few feet of the entrance to what once had 
 been Mr. Trenholm's counting-house. As I approached, a 
 sentry appeared suddenly from out of the ground and per- 
 emptorily ordered me to halt. I naively told him I wanted 
 to see Mr. Trenholm, which information seemed to arouse 
 his suspicions, and he called for the corporal of the guard, 
 who informed me that he had never heard of Mr. Tren- 
 holm. But as I had some official documents in my pocket 
 I very soon convinced him that I was harmless and he al- 
 lowed me to retire. I passed up East Bay Street to Broad 
 and saw the old City Hall (used as a post-office). It was 
 riddled by shells. It was from the porch of this building 
 
Secretary of the Treasury Trenholm 199 
 
 that Washington had addressed the people of Charleston 
 when he visited that city. At the corner of Broad and 
 Meeting Streets I passed by the old colonial church "St. 
 Michael's," the rear wall of which had been smashed in 
 and great holes were to be seen in the standing walls, which 
 had been and were still being bombarded. About every 
 ten minutes a shell was bursting some place in the neigh- 
 borhood. I passed on through the burned district, going 
 uptown, and again found myself in the inhabited portion 
 of the city. Many Charlestonians who had taken refuge 
 in the upper part of the city, so as to be out of range of the 
 shells, when the bombardment first began, returned to 
 their residences near the battery when longer-range guns 
 began to disturb them uptown, and in comparative com- 
 fort let the enemy shoot over their heads. In war times 
 one can get accustomed to anything. At last I met a civil- 
 ian who was very civil and gave me the information I 
 wanted. He told me that Mr. Trenholm was no longer in 
 Charleston, but was now Secretary of the Confederate 
 Treasury and had gone to Richmond; but that he could 
 show me where I would find his brother-in-law and partner, 
 Mr. Theodore Wagner, and that the business office was 
 in a residence on Rutledge Avenue. When I found Mr. 
 Wagner he was very kind to me, but he seemed to be in 
 an awful hurry, and hustled me into a buggy, saying it 
 was the only vehicle of the kind in the city. I asked where 
 we were going, and after we started he told me we were 
 going to the railway station as fast as possible, as I barely 
 had time to catch the train; that Mr. Trenholm had in- 
 structed him to send me at once to his home in the suburbs 
 of Columbia, if I got through the blockade safely. 
 
 I had brought a trunk with me that Midshipman Ander- 
 son had asked me to forward to his family in Savannah, and 
 Mr. Wagner kindly attended to the matter for me. I was 
 afterwards informed that when Anderson's family received 
 it, and an accompanying letter, they had been mourning 
 
200 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 for him for some weeks. It happened that in the fight with 
 the Kearsarge a man on the deck of the Alabama was cut 
 completely in two by a shell, and the upper half of his body 
 was hurled through the air striking Anderson on the head. 
 Some of the crew of the Alabama, who were saved by either 
 the Kearsarge or the French pilot boat, had reported that 
 Midshipman Anderson had had his head blown off, and this 
 story reached the Confederacy before I did. 
 
 It took me fifteen hours to reach Columbia, as trains in 
 the Confederacy were not allowed to run faster than ten 
 miles an hour and rarely attempted a disobedience of the 
 law where the speed limit was concerned, and their inter- 
 minable waits on the sidings were enough to try the patience 
 of a saint, to say nothing of that of a midshipman. 
 
 Arriving at Columbia I was met at the station by Colonel 
 Trenholm, his beautiful young wife, and his sister, the young 
 lady I had two years previously presumptuously made up my 
 mind to marry. Colonel Trenholm apologized for not alight- 
 ing to meet me when the train arrived, giving as an excuse 
 the fact that he could not walk, as he had been shot through 
 the hips in one of the battles near Richmond. I was invited 
 to get into the handsomely appointed landau (the Govern- 
 ment had not seized Mr. Trenholm's horses, I suppose be- 
 cause he was a member of the Cabinet), and we drove to a 
 beautiful villa, situated a short distance outside of the city 
 limits, where I was most hospitably welcomed by the rest 
 of the family. 
 
 "De Greffin" was the name of the villa, and besides a 
 most lovable and happy family it contained many paintings 
 and objects of art. In front of the house was a garden some 
 half-acre in extent enclosed by a handsome balustrade, and 
 at each corner was a vine-clad summer house. Flowers were 
 blooming in profusion in the garden and on a succession of 
 terraces which reached down to a little stream. As Mr. 
 Trenholm was one of the largest owners of blockade- 
 runners, of course the house was provided with every luxury 
 
My Mission to Richmond 201 
 
 and a most lavish hospitality was dispensed. A continual 
 stream of guests constantly came and went, and the young 
 people gathered there in flocks. Of course we danced, — 
 Southerners in that day always danced when two or three 
 were gathered together, — if only three, one would play 
 the piano and the other two would dance. When we tired 
 of dancing there were always the terraces and the moonlight, 
 and the grand old trees under which we could stroll or sit 
 and rest. There were saddle horses to ride in the mornings 
 and carriages to take us driving in the afternoons, and the 
 numerous servants who wanted to wait on us were in one 
 another's way. After a blissful week of this life I decided 
 that I had to go to Richmond. But one other person knew 
 the nature of the business which called me there, but the 
 incidents attending my mission were so characteristic of 
 the manner in which a midshipman of that day would act 
 in a serious matter that I must tell the story. 
 
 It took three or four days to go from Columbia to Rich- 
 mond, the exact time not being important so far as the rail- 
 way officials were concerned. Mr. Trenholm was staying at 
 the house of some friends while waiting until his own house 
 should be prepared for the reception of his family. I arrived 
 in Richmond after dark and went at once to the address 
 which had been given me. I had grown nine inches since 
 I had last seen Mr. Trenholm, and I feared he would not 
 recognize me. Arriving at the house I found several ladies 
 and gentlemen seated on the piazza. I asked for Mr. Tren- 
 holm, and a tall, stately gentleman arose and came forward 
 to greet me. I said that I was afraid he did not remember 
 me, but he assured me in his hearty manner that he recol- 
 lected me perfectly, and asked me to be seated. I thanked 
 him and told him that I wanted to speak with him very 
 particularly in private, and he showed the way into the 
 drawing-room (where we were alone) and then he asked 
 what he could do for me. I promptly replied that I had come 
 to ask his consent to my marriage with his daughter, Miss 
 
202 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 Helen. Mr.Trenholm seemed startled, and exclaimed, "My 
 dear young gentleman, I have not the slightest idea who you 
 are!" When I told him my name, he said that it was diffi- 
 cult for him to realize that I was ''Little'' Morgan, as I had 
 grown so much. An amused expression passed over his 
 countenance, which embarrassed me, for I was in deadly 
 earnest and did not see anything funny in the interview 
 then. It had never occurred to me that others would have 
 smiled at the idea of a penniless little rebel "reefer" asking 
 the Secretary of the Treasury, the man who owned steam- 
 ships, railroads, hotels, city houses, cotton presses, wharves, 
 plantations, and thousands of slaves, for the hand of his 
 daughter! Mr. Trenholm was a most kindly and sympa- 
 thetic gentleman, and seeing my embarrassment, at once 
 proceeded to treat my proposition seriously. He first asked 
 me if I did not think his daughter and myself both very 
 young to enter into such a serious engagement; but I nipped 
 that objection in the bud by saying that I might be killed 
 before the end of the war, and asking him where I would 
 . be then. He frankly admitted that he did not know. With 
 a twinkle in his eye he asked me what the pay of a midship- 
 man was. I told him that just at that time it was forty 
 dollars a month, but that as soon as I received my orders 
 to a ship it would be forty-five (Confederate money was then 
 at a discount of a hundred for one). After a pause he told 
 me that his daughter's choice would be his. I think he was 
 going to say something else, but I jumped to my feet and 
 interrupted him by saying, "Good-bye." He asked where I 
 was going, and I told him I had just time to catch the train 
 for Columbia, and dashed out of the house. 
 
 When I arrived at "De Greffin" with my good news, I 
 was welcomed and ever afterwards treated as one of the 
 family. But my stay in that delightful atmosphere was of 
 short duration, as a few days after my arrival I escorted 
 Mrs. Trenholm and her daughters to Richmond, where they 
 were to make their home for an indefinite period. 
 
Vice-President Stephens 203 
 
 On arriving in Richmond, of course, it was incumbent on 
 Mrs. Trenholm to call on the wife of the President and the 
 ladies of the Cabinet, and one of her calls afforded us in- 
 tense amusement. Mrs. Trenholm had not met any of these 
 ladies previously and knew nothing of the domestic affairs 
 of the members of the social circle of which she was now to 
 be a member. After calling on Mrs. Davis she thought it 
 proper to call at the residence of the Vice-President, the 
 Honorable Alexander Stephens. She rang the bell and the 
 door was opened by Mr. Stephens's old negro body-servant, 
 who had been with his master for many years and who 
 accompanied him everywhere. Mrs. Trenholm asked the 
 old darky if Mrs. Stephens was at home, and the old fel- 
 low's eyes fairly bulged out of his head. "Mam," he said, 
 " Mr. Stephens ain't married. My God! did you ever see 
 him?" Needless to add that Mr. Stephens was far from be- 
 ing a handsome man — he was very diminutive in size and 
 it seemed marvelous that so frail a little body could bear 
 the weight of so gigantic an intellect. Besides, he had 
 always been an invalid and looked like an animated corpse. 
 
CHAPTER XXIV 
 
 "Pride goeth before a fall" — Humiliated and sent to school — A realistic 
 war college — Call a commander "My man," and order him forward — 
 Assault on Fort Harrison — General Lee appears on the battle-field — Re- 
 pulsed — I prove to be something of a sprinter. 
 
 *' Pride goeth before a fall," I fear that the dignity of 
 being an engaged man caused my chest to enlarge dispro- 
 portionately to my rank. I received my orders, and instead 
 of being sent to an ironclad I was ordered to report on b9ard 
 of the schoolship Patrick Henry to be examined for promo- 
 tion. Most of my classmates had been nominally taken out 
 of active service and put to school while I was at sea, and 
 they were now passed midshipmen. I had not opened a 
 schoolbook since I had left Annapolis, and the result was 
 that I failed to pass. But I was given another chance and 
 had to begin school again. Although I did not know it, if 
 there was one thing that I needed more than anything else, 
 it was a little schooling. 
 
 The Patrick Henry was a small sidewheel seagoing steamer 
 with a walking-beam engine and a brigantine rig. She had 
 formerly belonged to the "Old Dominion" line running 
 between New York and Norfolk. She had been converted 
 into a man-of-war by having ten guns put on board of her 
 and she had played quite a conspicuous part in the naval 
 battles in Hampton Roads. She had now become the most 
 realistic war college that ever existed. She was anchored in 
 front of Drewry's BlufT, Richmond's principal defense on 
 the James River, which is situated seven miles below the 
 city. The reason for her being located there was that the 
 ** school" was expected to sink itself in the channel between 
 the obstructions in case the enemy's ironclads tried to force 
 a passage by the land batteries. One always associates a 
 collegiate institution with peace and quiet, but this naval 
 college was located in the midst of the booming guns. Below 
 

A Realistic War College 205 
 
 Drewry's Bluff, on the south side of the river, were the naval 
 land batteries of Wood, Brooke, Semmes, and Howlett, and 
 on the other side of the river were the Federal batteries of 
 Bohler, Signal Hill, Crow's Nest, and the Dutch Gap bat- 
 teries; and when they all broke loose together the din they 
 made was not conducive to that peaceful repose so prized 
 by all students. 
 
 There were about sixty young midshipmen on the 
 Patrick Henry, varying in age from fourteen to seventeen. 
 Their jackets were made out of very coarse gray cloth and 
 the food they had to eat was, at first, revolting to me. The 
 menu offered little variety. If it was not a tiny lump of fat 
 pork, it was a shaving of fresh meat as tough as the hide 
 which had once covered it, with a piece of hardtack and a 
 tin cup of hot water colored by chicory or grains of burned 
 corn, ground up, and brevetted coffee. But no one kicked 
 about the food, as it was as good if not better than that the 
 poor soldiers in the trenches received. The James River 
 furnished a capital article of chills and fever — not malaria, 
 but the good old-fashioned kind with the shivers which 
 made the teeth chatter and burning fever to follow. On an 
 average about one half of the midshipmen went through 
 this disagreeable experience every other day. No one was 
 allowed to go on the sick-list on account of chills and fever; 
 one was, however, allowed to lie down on the bare deck 
 while the chill was on, but had to return to duty as soon as 
 the paroxysm was over. 
 
 Lieutenant William H. Parker, who had been a professor 
 of seamanship at Annapolis, was the superintendent of this 
 extraordinary naval academy, and he was assisted by two 
 or three navy lieutenants and a like number of civilian pro- 
 fessors. There were on the hurricane deck and between the 
 paddleboxes two little recitation rooms, and on top of these 
 rooms were posted signalmen who from daylight to dark 
 wigwagged to, and received messages from, the batteries. 
 The scenes in the recitation rooms were frequently exciting 
 
2o6 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 and interesting. The guns on shore roared and the shells 
 burst, and the professor would placidly give out the problem 
 to the youngster at the blackboard, to be interrupted by 
 the report of some gun which his practiced ear told him was 
 a newcomer in the fray. He would begin by saying: "If 
 x—y — One moment, Mr. Blank. Would you kindly step 
 outside and find out for me which battery it is that has 
 opened with that Brooke gun?" The information obtained 
 the recitation would be resumed, only to be again inter- 
 rupted by a message from the captain that a certain bat- 
 tery was short of officers and a couple of midshipmen were 
 wanted. It was useless to call for volunteers, as every mid- 
 shipman clamored for permission to go: so these details 
 were given as rewards. It was from among these midship- 
 men that the men came who steered the boats when the 
 gunboat Underwriter was boarded and captured in the 
 night, and it was in that fight that Midshipman Palmer 
 Saunders had his head cloven to his shoulders by a cutlass 
 in the hand of a big sailor. Saunders was only seventeen 
 years of age. It was in that same boarding expedition that 
 Dan Lee, another midshipman from the Patrick Henry, 
 called out to his would-be rescuer, when a sailor had him 
 down and was trying to kill him, not to shoot, as the man 
 on top of him was so thin ! Lee and Saunders were of the 
 same age. This Patrick Henry may have been a unique 
 institution of learning, but the "Confederate States Naval 
 Academy" turned out men who afterwards became United 
 States Senators, members of Congress, judges, successful 
 and prominent lawyers, doctors, civil engineers, bankers, 
 and successful business men as well as sailors. 
 
 The Patrick Henry, besides being a naval academy and 
 stopgap for the river obstructions, also served as a receiv- 
 ing ship. Steamboats under flags of truce, carrying North- 
 ern prisoners to Harrison's Landing for exchange, had to 
 stop alongside of her to get permits to continue their trips, 
 and . returning frequently discharged their human freight 
 
I CALL A Commander "My Man"! 207 
 
 of Confederate prisoners on board the school ship while 
 they went again down the river for more. One day, while 
 I was assisting the officer of the deck in receiving these 
 poor, forlorn fellows, I was trying to hurry them forward 
 so that they would not block the gangway ; this was neces- 
 sary, as with few exceptions they were so glad to be once 
 more under their beloved Confederate flag that those who 
 did not succeed in embracing the officer of the deck at least 
 wanted to swap congratulations with the gray-coated mid- 
 shipman. I was continually interrupting them by begging 
 them not to block the gangway, but to pass forward, and 
 that I would attend to their wants as soon as the rest could 
 come aboard, etc. Suddenly the shabbiest, the raggedest, 
 and most unkempt of the lot, with his matted hair reach- 
 ing to his shoulders and looking as though it had never 
 known the caress of a comb, shambled across the gang- 
 plank, and in rather a peremptory manner demanded the 
 name of my captain. I replied with the usual advice, "Go 
 forward, my man; go forward!" — when to my amaze- 
 ment the human wreck drew himself up and rather sternly 
 said, "Little Morgan, I will apply for you as soon as I get 
 a command and I will then show you, sir, who goes for- 
 ward!" The man was Commander Beverly Kennon, who 
 had rammed and sunk the U.S. sloop-of-war Varuna when 
 Farragut passed the forts below New Orleans. I thought 
 I should faint when I became aware of his identity. Here 
 was I, a poor devil of a midshipman, ordering forward a 
 man who ranked me so far that I would hardly be able 
 to see where he passed along! It was not fair. Kennon 
 was last seen by his compatriots in the fight at the forts 
 standing on the paddlebox of his ship while the Hartford, 
 Brooklyn, and the frigate Mississippi, with their tremen- 
 dous broadsides, were shooing him ashore, when sud- 
 denly they blew him up, set fire to him, and sunk him 
 almost simultaneously. By all the rules of the game he was 
 a dead man, and had no right to come back and scare a 
 
2o8 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 poor innocent midshipman out of several years' growth. 
 Several years afterwards Kennon served in the Egyptian 
 Army where he was a full colonel and I was again his 
 junior. He seemed to take a delight in telling his brother 
 officers how, as he described it, he had once been "ordered 
 forward by a d d midshipman!" 
 
 From the Patrick Henry we could see the constant move- 
 ment of troops, both Union and Confederate, on the north 
 side of the river, where they frequently clashed in skir- 
 mishes ; but this sort of thing was so common that to break 
 the monotony two of the midshipmen got permission to 
 go ashore, and improved the time by fighting a duel with 
 muskets. 
 
 One morning we saw our soldiers hastily constructing 
 a pontoon bridge on the river a short distance above where 
 we were anchored. We soon learned that the cause of their 
 activity was that General Grant's troops had surprised and 
 captured Fort Harrison during the night, and that Fort 
 Harrison was the key to our advanced line of defenses 
 on the north side of the stream. The bridge was no 
 sooner completed than Hoke's North Carolina division 
 were rushed across it. These were the best-dressed and 
 best-cared-for troops in the Confederate Army, as the 
 State, with commendable paternalism, owned its steamers 
 and had gone into the blockade-running business on its 
 own account. 
 
 Believing that the object of the sudden movement was 
 to retake the fort. Midshipmen Carter, Hale, Wright, and 
 myself asked and received permission to go ashore and 
 see at close range the coming fight. Following the troops 
 we saw them form their line of battle in front of the fort 
 and its outlying breastworks, while the shells of the enemy 
 were bursting over their heads as well as in front, behind, 
 and among them. Soon we heard the rumble of the wheels 
 of gun carriages and caissons, as our light batteries came, 
 at the gallop, from the rear and dashed through the spaces 
 
COLONEL BEVERLY KENNON 
 
 Coast Defense, Egyptian Army 
 
Assault on Fort Harrison 209 
 
 between our brigades and regiments, and wheeling and un- 
 limbering a short distance from our front, they opened a 
 rapid fire. There was no wind stirring, and soon the ene- 
 my's position, as well as that of our light batteries, was 
 obscured from view by the dense smoke. Then their firing 
 ceased, and so did that of the enemy's heavy guns. All 
 at once our artillery was seen to burst through the bank 
 of smoke and rapidly come back to us, dashing through 
 our infantry line again, wheeling and unlimbering just in 
 their rear: this manoeuvre was followed by complete still- 
 ness, the most trying time in the life of a soldier, that two 
 or three minutes, which seem unending, while waiting for 
 the order to charge. 
 
 The infantry moved forward, at the double-quick, under 
 cover of the smoke which lay close to the ground in the 
 heavy atmosphere. Nothing could be heard save the tramp 
 of hurrying feet. Fort Harrison maintained an ominous si- 
 lence. As our men neared the fortifications suddenly from 
 twenty thousand throats burst forth the famous rebel yell 
 which fairly rent the air. When within about a hundred 
 yards from the coveted works there arose a long line of 
 blue-coated soldiers, seemingly from out of the ground, 
 who poured a deadly volley into the oncoming ranks of 
 the North Carolinians and at the same time the heavy guns 
 of the fort sprinkled them with shrapnel, grape, and can- 
 ister. The fight was fast and furious for a time, and then 
 we saw some slightly wounded men going to the rear; 
 these were followed by the more seriously injured, each 
 accompanied and assisted by two or three unhurt men, 
 who, moved by compassion (?) assisted them. We then 
 knew what was coming, and soon saw the whole line fall 
 back, but not in any great disorder. We had been repulsed, 
 but the enemy was not following us. 
 
 When we reached the line, from which we had started 
 to make our unsuccessful assault, the troops re-formed and 
 waited. Suddenly from the left of the line we heard cheering 
 
210 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 and wondered what it was for. It was not the rebel yell, 
 which once heard could never be mistaken for any other 
 sound; the sound we now heard was evidently a burst of 
 enthusiasm, which was taken up by regiment after regi- 
 ment until the whole line was adding to its volume. It 
 was not long before we discovered the cause of the man- 
 ifestation — for there, with his silvery head uncovered, 
 hat in hand, was seen riding down the line — General 
 Robert E. Lee. He was a picture of dignity as, mounted 
 on his famous gray charger "Traveler," he spoke seriously 
 to his unsuccessful troops. As he passed in front of where 
 we were standing, we could plainly hear what he was say- 
 ing — he was telling the men how important Fort Harri- 
 son was to our line of defense, and that he was sure they 
 could take it if they would make another earnest effort. 
 Their answer was given in deafening cheers. 
 
 Again they went forward to the assault, and again were 
 they repulsed, this time with worse slaughter than had 
 been their lot on the first attempt. The second retreat was 
 much more disorderly than the first, but again they re- 
 formed and waited — and again General Lee rode down 
 the line. 
 
 I had always thought General Lee was a very cold and 
 unemotional man, but he showed lots of feeling and excite- 
 ment on that occasion; even the staid and stately "Trav- 
 eler" caught the spirit of his master, and was prancing and 
 cavorting while the general was imploring his men to make 
 one more effort to take the position for him. 
 
 Again they went forward and again they came back — 
 this time in great disorder. In fact, it was a sprinting 
 match on a big scale. I had heard a great deal about the 
 marvelous marching powers of the Confederate infantry- 
 man, and I was only a poor "webfoot," temporarily off 
 his element, but I do not recall having seen any infantry- 
 men pass me on the way to our second line of defense. 
 
 When the troops re-formed, General Lee again rode 
 
Lee and his Soldiers 211 
 
 down the line trying to comfort his men by telling them 
 they had done all that men could do, and that anyhow the 
 place was not of as much importance as he had at first 
 thought it was. This talk cheered the men, and they, al- 
 though worn out with fatigue, replied by cheering their 
 beloved general. 
 
 After the battle a surgeon pressed me into his service 
 and made me hold a soldier's shattered leg while he am- 
 putated it. I would have preferred to be shot myself. 
 Medicines were scarce in the South and that particular 
 surgeon had neither chloroform nor ether in his medical 
 kit. 
 
 Disgusted, tired, and weary, I returned to my school 
 and my studies. 
 
CHAPTER XXV 
 
 I finally become a passed midshipman — Battery Semmes — The Dutch 
 Gap Canal — Mortar pits and rifle pits — The lookout tower — Trading with 
 the enemy — Pickett's famous division charges a rabbit — A shell from a 
 monitor destroys my log hut — Good marksmanship — An unexploded shell 
 — General Lee inspects battery — Costly result of order to "give him a shot 
 in fifteen minutes" — Demonstration against City Point — Confederate iron- 
 clads badly hammered — "Savez" Read cuts boom across the river — A thun- 
 derous night. 
 
 Shortly after the fall of Fort Harrison I passed my 
 examination for promotion and arrived at the dignity of 
 being a passed midshipman. I was immediately ordered 
 to the naval battery called Semmes, situated on a narrow 
 tongue of land formed by the river. It was the most ad- 
 vanced of our defenses on the river, and was the nearest 
 of any of our batteries to the Dutch Gap canal which was 
 then being dug by General B. F. Butler. 
 
 Our seven heavy guns, rifled and smooth-bore, were 
 mounted in pits dug on the brow of a gently sloping hill — 
 the battery was only thirty feet above the river. Between 
 each of the guns was a bomb-proof which protected our 
 ammunition. The guns were mounted on naval carriages 
 so that our sailors could handle their accustomed blocks 
 and tackles. 
 
 On the opposite side of the river, and forming a semi- 
 circle around the peninsula on which Semmes was located, 
 were the heavy Union batteries called Bohler's, Signal 
 Hill, Crow's Nest, the Dutch Gap batteries, and the How- 
 lett House batteries, and when they all opened fire at once 
 they made a perfect inferno out of Battery Semmes. It 
 surely was a hot spot. 
 
 Some six hundred yards in front of Battery Semmes, 
 on the land side, we had four little Cohorn mortars in a 
 pit, and with these we tossed shells constantly into the 
 canal to interfere with its construction. General Butler put 
 
Mortar Pits and Rifle Pits 213 
 
 a number of Confederate prisoners to work in his canal, and 
 very thoughtfully sent us word that we were only killing 
 our own men with our mortar shells. About the same 
 time that we received this considerate message, Jeff Phelps, 
 a midshipman who had been one of the "Brood of the 
 Constitution," and who was one of the prisoners com- 
 pelled to dig in the canal, in some way managed to get a 
 note to us telling us that we "were doing fine" and to 
 "keep it up." We only kept some eight or ten men at a 
 time in the mortar pit and between the pit and our bat- 
 tery were a number of rifle pits. When the mortars aggra- 
 vated General Butler too much, he would send a force 
 across the river to charge the mortars. Seeing them com- 
 ing, our men would hastily beat a retreat, and like prairie 
 dogs tumbling into their holes, they would disappear. The 
 Union soldiers would, of course, capture the mortars and 
 spike them, but when we thought that as many of them as 
 the pit could hold were well in it, we would cut loose with 
 the heavy guns of the big battery behind us which were 
 trained on it. Then the Federal soldiers would hasten back 
 to the river, and before they could get across, our men, 
 who were provided with bows and drills, would have new 
 vent holes bored and would be again tossing shells as 
 though nothing had happened to interfere with their day's 
 work. Why General Butler's men never carried off the 
 mortars with them we could never understand — two 
 strong men could have lifted any one of them, they were 
 so small and light. 
 
 General Butler had built a lofty lookout tower out of 
 timber. It was very open work, and on the top of it he 
 placed a telescope. I met a member of his stafif after the 
 war who told me that they could see every movement we 
 made, and that on one occasion he had distinctly seen a 
 man in our battery cut off a chew of tobacco and put it 
 into his mouth. 
 
 There was a mystery as to the way in which privates 
 
214 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 would come to a tacit agreement with the enemy about not 
 doing any sniping on certain parts of the line. I knew of 
 one stretch of breastworks where our men could expose 
 themselves with perfect impunity up to a spot on which 
 stood an empty barrel, and on the other side of that barrel, 
 if a man showed an old hat on the end of a ramrod, it was 
 instantly perforated with bullets. 
 
 The Union soldiers craved tobacco of which the South- 
 erners had an abundance and the "grayback" longed for 
 coffee or sugar. At some points on the line trading in these 
 commodities went on briskly without the knowledge of the 
 officers. Their dealings were strictly honorable. A man, 
 say from the Southern side, would creep outside the works, 
 and when he reached a certain stump he would place a 
 couple of large plugs of tobacco on it and then return to his 
 companions. After a time he would again creep to the stump 
 to find that his tobacco was gone, but in its place was 
 a small quantity of the longed-for coffee and sugar. We 
 always carried one or two long plugs of tobacco in our inside 
 breast pockets, as it was a common belief that if a man was 
 captured and had tobacco it would insure him good treat- 
 ment. 
 
 One foggy night I was on duty and had visited our out- 
 posts. While returning to the battery on a path close to the 
 riverside, I distinctly heard oars slapping the water — the 
 rowlocks were evidently muffled. Although I could not see 
 the boat I felt that it must be very near the shore, and I 
 hailed it with a "Boat ahoy! Keep farther out In the 
 stream!" The answer came back: "We don't do any 
 picket firing on this line." I told the spokesman that I knew 
 that, but we did n't want him to bunk with us, and hardly 
 were the words out of my mouth when the bow of the boat 
 was rammed into the mud at my feet. I felt sure my time 
 had come, and hastily jerked my pistol out of the holster 
 intending to fire so as to give the alarm, when I heard a 
 voice say, "For the love of Mike, Johnny, give me a chew 
 
Pickett's Division charges a Rabbit 215 
 
 of tobacco." The tone was so pleading and earnest that 
 I could not resist it and handed the fellow my plug. In re- 
 turn he gave me a canteen full of whiskey. We entered into 
 conversation, and I discovered that he was an old classmate 
 of mine at Annapolis who had "bilged" and was now a 
 master's mate in charge of a picket boat whose duty was 
 to give warning if our ironclads descended the river. I 
 warned him about the folly of his act, and he shoved out 
 into the stream and disappeared forever out of my life. 
 When I produced my canteen before my messmates they 
 fairly went wild with joy, but nothing ever could induce me 
 to tell how I had come into possession of the liquor. 
 
 Muskrats or rabbits, when caught, which was rarely, 
 were a welcome addition to our menu. Pickett's division 
 supported our battery and was encamped about half a mile 
 from us. One day we thought that those thousands of men 
 had gone crazy — there was the wildest commotion among 
 them. Men rushed to and fro in the wildest confusion, fall- 
 ing over one another in every direction — it looked like a 
 free fight. We sent over to find out the cause of the riot and 
 were informed that one poor little "cotton-tail bunny" 
 had jumped out of a bush in the centre of the camp and that 
 some ten thousand men had given chase in hopes of having 
 him for supper. 
 
 The winter of 1864-65 was an intensely cold one. Snow 
 from three to six inches in depth lay constantly on the 
 ground keeping the trenches wet and muddy, and the con- 
 sequent discomfort was great. Lieutenant Bradford, our 
 commander, and Lieutenant Hilary Cenas and the surgeon 
 had two log huts to live in. Becoming envious I got several 
 of the men to assist me in building a cabin for myself, with 
 the chinks all stuffed with mud and with a beautiful mud 
 chimney of which I was very proud. I had had it located in 
 a little gulch behind the battery and it did look so comfort- 
 able, but alas, work had gone on very rapidly in the con- 
 struction of the canal despite our continual mortar fire, and 
 
2i6 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 on the afternoon of the day on which my house was finished 
 a monitor fired several eleven- inch shells through the canal, 
 and with the whole State of Virginia to select from, one of 
 these projectiles could find no other place to explode in but 
 my little cabin, which it scattered to the four winds. 
 
 Some days there would be a lull in the artillery fire, and 
 we could walk about exposing ourselves to the enemy's fire 
 with perfect impunity, and on other days the most trifling 
 movement on our part, such as the moving of an empty 
 water barrel, or a few men chasing a frightened and bewil- 
 dered "cotton-tail" would bring upon us a storm of projec- 
 tiles from the enemy's guns. Constant practice had made 
 the artillery firing very effective, so much so that it was 
 not an uncommon thing for us to have one or more of our 
 guns knocked off their carriages. Lieutenant Cenas seemed 
 to have a tacit understanding with the gunner of a rifled 
 piece in the Crow's Nest Battery whose marksmanship he 
 admired very much. Cenas would go outside of the works 
 and place an empty barrel or tobacco box on top of a stump, 
 and then, stepping to one side, he would wave his arms as 
 a signal to his favorite gun-pointer on the other side, and 
 immediately we would see a puff of smoke and the projec- 
 tile would always tear up the ground very close to the stump 
 and frequently both stump and barrel would be knocked 
 into smithereens. 
 
 One afternoon a monitor fired a shell through the canal 
 which landed a few yards in front of our battery. A sailor, 
 in pure dare-deviltry, went outside to pick it up. Just as 
 he got to it I saw a thread of smoke arising from the fuse, 
 and I yelled to him to jump back — but too late. The 
 sailor gave it a push with his foot and it bounded into the 
 air taking off the man's leg ; the shell then landed in one of 
 our gun pits and exploded killing and wounding several men. 
 It must have been spinning with great rapidity on its axis 
 and only needed the touch of the sailor's foot to start it 
 again on its mission of destruction. 
 
Costly Result of an Order 217 
 
 We flew no flag, as it was useless to hoist one; the enemy 
 would shoot it away as fast we would put it up. A wonder- 
 fully accurate gun was a light field piece, a Parrott gun, 
 which would come out from behind the Bohler Battery, 
 take up a position in the bushes, and shoot at any man 
 bringing water from a near-by spring, and he was frequently 
 successful in hitting him. One day General Lee was inspect- 
 ing the line and stopped for a few moments at our battery. 
 He ordered us to drive this fellow away, and then looking 
 at his watch added, "Give him a shot in fifteen minutes." 
 Then the general on his gray horse rode away. At the 
 expiration of the fifteen minutes we let go our seven heavy 
 guns into the bushes where we supposed the fellow to be — 
 with the result that he limbered up and hastily took refuge 
 behind his works, and from fifty to seventy-five guns in the 
 batteries which enfiladed Semmes cut loose into us and kept 
 it up for three days and nights, dismounting three of our 
 guns, killing and wounding a number of our men. 
 
 We could shoot just as well at night as we could in the 
 daytime, as from constant practice we had the ranges of all 
 of the enemy's batteries, and had marked the trunnions of 
 our guns for range and the traverses for direction. Such 
 firing was accurate, as was proved on several occasions by 
 our discovering at daylight that we had dismounted some 
 of the guns of our antagonists. 
 
 In the latter part of January, 1865, our supply of ammu- 
 nition was running short, and as a consequence we were 
 ordered to be sparing with it, so we would only fire a gun 
 when the enemy's fire would slacken up a bit to let them 
 know that we were still there. This seemed to encourage 
 our opponents and they hammered us all day with their big 
 guns, and all through the nights they dropped mortar shells 
 among us. These shells, with their burning fuses, resembled 
 meteors flying through the air; they made an awful screech- 
 ing noise as they tore the atmosphere apart when coming 
 down before we heard the thud of their striking the ground 
 
2i8 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 and the terrific explosion which would follow, and then 
 would come the whistling of the fragments as they scattered 
 in every direction. We were so accustomed to these sounds 
 that we did not allow them to interfere with our slumbers, 
 as wrapped in our one blanket we slept in the bomb-proofs 
 or magazines. 
 
 The end of the Southern Confederacy was near at hand, 
 although we at the front little realized the fact. The author- 
 ities in Richmond determined to make a daring attempt to 
 capture or destroy General Grant's base of supplies at City 
 Point on the James. Late on the afternoon of January 23, 
 1865, we received notice to be ready, as our three ironclads, 
 the Virginia Number 2, the Richmond, and the Fredericks- 
 burg, would come down that night, run the gantlet of the 
 Federal batteries, and try to force their way through the 
 boom the enemy had placed across the river (at Howlett's) 
 in anticipation of just such an attempt. I happened to be 
 officer of the day. The night was very dark, and suddenly 
 I heard a sentry challenge something in the river. I ran 
 down to the edge of the water and arrived there just in time 
 to see a rowboat stick her nose into the mud at my very 
 feet, and was much surprised to see my old shipmate, 
 "Savez" Read, step ashore. He was in a jolly mood, as he 
 told me that our ironclads would follow him in a couple of 
 hours, and that he was going ahead to cut the boom so that 
 they could pass on and destroy City Point. "And now, 
 youngster," he said, "you fellows make those guns of yours 
 hum when the 'Yanks' open, and mind that you don't 
 shoot too low, for I will be down there in the middle of the 
 river." And then he put his hand affectionately on my 
 shoulder and added : " Jimmie, it's going to be a great night; 
 I only wish you could go with me : a sailor has no business 
 on shore, anyway." And laughing he stepped back into his 
 boat and shoved out into the stream. 
 
 The enemy must have had some information as to our 
 plans, for Read had not proceeded very far before the bank 
 
A Thunderous Night 219 
 
 of the river looked as though it was infested by innumerable 
 fireflies as the sharpshooters rained bullets on his boat 
 which was proceeding with muffled oars. They completely 
 riddled it, but Read kept on while bailing the water out of 
 her, and strange to say he reached the boom and success- 
 fully cut it. 
 
 About two hours after Read left, our so-called ironclads 
 noiselessly glided by the battery. The stillness was un- 
 broken for so long a time that we began to congratulate 
 ourselves that they had safely got by the enemy's batteries 
 without being discovered. But our exultation was prema- 
 ture — they did get by the Bohler and Signal Hill batteries 
 unobserved, but unfortunately the furnaces of the leading 
 boat were stirred, and a flame shot out of her smokestack 
 which instantly brought upon her a shower of shot and shell, 
 and instantly the big guns on both sides were in an uproar. 
 My! but that was a thunderous night; the very ground 
 quivered under the constant explosions. 
 
 The next morning we learned that our demonstration 
 against City Point had resulted in a most mortifying failure. 
 The smallest of our ironclads, the Fredericksburg, passed 
 safely through the obstructions, but the Virginia, which 
 steered very badly, ran aground and blocked the passage 
 to the Richmond. The wooden gunboat Drewry also missed 
 the channel and ran ashore. The Fredericksburg was re- 
 called and the big monitor Onondaga with her immense 
 guns arrived on the scene shortly after daylight. With one 
 shot she smashed in the Virginia's forward shield. The 
 Virginia got afloat again and presented her broadside, 
 which was also perforated as though it was made of paper. 
 She then brought her after gun into action and a shot from 
 the monitor also smashed her after shield. They all returned 
 that night under a rain of projectiles from the shore batteries 
 similar to that they had been exposed to the night before, and 
 on that occasion our ironclads, on which we had based such 
 high hopes, fired their last hostile shot. The end was near. 
 
CHAPTER XXVI 
 
 The Confederate "White House" — President Davis gives an impromptu 
 lecture on bridle bits — Letter of Mrs. Jefferson Davis denying truth of anec- 
 dote relating to President Buchanan, Mrs. Joseph E. Johnston, and herself — 
 The Southern soldiers and girls dance, flirt, and marry, oblivious of the signs 
 that the "debacle" draws near. 
 
 Notwithstanding the hardships we were all necessarily 
 subjected to at the front, my life at that time was not devoid 
 of pleasures. Frequently I was allowed to go to Richmond 
 where I had friends and where I was made welcome. Among 
 these dear friends were President and Mrs. Jefferson Davis. 
 I have mentioned that one of my brothers had married a 
 cousin of Mrs. Davis's, and her youngest brother, Midship- 
 man Jefferson Davis Howell, was one of my most intimate 
 friends, so I was made to feel very much at home at the 
 Confederate "White House." I remember being there one 
 day with my fiancee sitting on a sofa in a parlor adjoining 
 the room Mr. Davis used as his private office, when unex- 
 pectedly the door between the two rooms opened and the 
 President entered. He apologized for intruding on us, say- 
 ing that he expected to find Mrs. Davis there. In one hand 
 he held a steel bridle bit and in the other a piece of chamois 
 leather with which he was polishing it. He at once proceeded 
 to tell us about the merits of that particular bit, and becom- 
 ing interested in the subject he went on to give us quite a 
 lecture on bridle bits, their uses and abuses; he told us how 
 the cruel Mexican bit, with which a brutal man can break 
 the jaw of a horse, had come down from the ancients and 
 had been imported into Morocco by the Arabs and into 
 Spain by the Moors, and by the Spanish into Mexico and 
 South America. He was familiar also with the modern bits 
 and was quite eloquent over his account of how Chifney, a 
 famous English jockey, had invented the most merciful of 
 all curb bits. He told us a lot more about bridle bits which 
 
Anecdote relating to Buchanan 221 
 
 I cannot remember, and as he told it it made the simple 
 subject much more interesting than I could ever have imag- 
 ined it could be made. 
 
 Mrs. Davis was highly gifted intellectually, and in her 
 home was an affectionate wife and mother; her devotion 
 to her husband and children was beautiful to see. In so- 
 ciety she was bright and witty, and on occasion could 
 blight with sarcasm any one who had the misfortune to 
 displease her, and when she did turn loose her tongue in 
 that vein, society in Richmond was usually kept in a state 
 of hysterical laughter for weeks afterwards. 
 
 There were many stories concerning Mrs. Davis's en- 
 mity toward Mrs. General Joseph E. Johnston, but they 
 were without any foundation in fact. Mrs. Davis often 
 spoke to me about her affection for Mrs. Johnston and how 
 intimate they had been in Washington prior to the war. 
 One of the stories, which is still current at this day, was 
 that when Mrs. Davis went to bid President Buchanan 
 good-bye, she told him that she could forgive everything 
 except his having turned Mrs. Joe Johnston's head by 
 making her husband a brigadier-general. This story was 
 revamped and published in many papers years afterwards. 
 I sent Mrs. Davis a clipping containing the story, and this 
 is the letter she wrote me in acknowledging its receipt. 
 The letter, with some others which she was kind enough 
 to write me, are now in the Congressional Library: — 
 
 "The Rockingham," Narragansett Pier, R.I. 
 August 19, 1898. 
 My dear Jimmie: — 
 
 I should have answered your two kind letters and offered 
 thanks for them and also for the good likeness of my beloved 
 brother, but I have been so utterly wretched I could not do so. 
 My Winnie has now been critically ill for twenty-eight days, and 
 is still quite ill and suffering so that I can think of nothing else. 
 Our physician seems not to fear the outcome of her illness, but 
 she is dreadfully reduced and very patient in her pain. 
 
 The anecdote of Mr. Buchanan and me is nonsense. Nothing 
 
222 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 of the kind or the least like it ever happened. I was unaffectedly 
 fond of him and went to bid him an affectionate farewell. 
 
 My brother's likeness is such a comfort to me. I enjoy looking 
 at his boyish face more than I can express. Thank you from the 
 bottom of my heart for your kind thought of me. 
 
 I am more than glad that you did not go to Cuba, since the war 
 has been so short and decisive — you could only have lost your 
 health, and could not have added much to your reputation by 
 any notable achievement. 
 
 I hope that Mrs. Morgan continues well. 
 
 I do not know how long we shall be here, perhaps until the last 
 of October before we return home. 
 
 Believe me cordially your friend, 
 
 V. Jefferson Davis. 
 
 At the house of Mr. Trenholm I was always received as 
 one of the family. The beautiful house, which had been 
 built originally by an English gentleman of wealth and 
 artistic tastes, was the centre of a certain amount of gayety, 
 and frequented, especially on Saturday evenings, by many 
 distinguished people, among them of course many for- 
 eigners, who visited Richmond for the excitement of the 
 experience. Mr. Trenholm, the Secretary of the Treasury, 
 was a man of great wealth and probably the largest owner 
 of blockade-runners, and consequently almost every luxury 
 in the way of food was most hospitably placed before his 
 guests. 
 
 Where two or three young Southerners were gathered 
 together there was sure to be singing and dancing. It is 
 true that there were not many handsome toilets to be seen 
 at these receptions, but the young girls were so pretty no 
 one took the trouble to look at their dresses of a style 
 fashionable before the war. The foreigners, of course, ap- 
 peared in the orthodox dress coats and white ties, but we 
 poor fellows who belonged at the front shamelessly joined 
 the gay throng in our rags and tatters. My uniform, which 
 had once been gray, had turned a green yellowish brown 
 owing to its exposure to the elements and the mud in the 
 
Southern Soldiers dance and marry 223 
 
 trenches., I had had the misfortune to have one of my coat 
 tails burned off while sleeping too close to a camp-fire; 
 one of my trousers legs had raveled out to halfway up the 
 calf of my leg, and the lower part of the other trousers leg 
 was very ragged ; I wore a boot on one foot and a shoe on 
 the other — the boot on the bare leg. This Falstaffian cos- 
 tume was set off with a sword, and if there is anything that 
 will make a ragged man look more ridiculous than another 
 it is the wearing of a sword. But the girls in their four- 
 year-old dresses did not mind our appearance, and it would 
 have been a cold day when a man in civilian togs, no matter 
 how well dressed, could have persuaded one of those South- 
 ern girls to dance with him when a man from the front 
 wanted a turn. 
 
 Mr. Trenholm, as I have said before, was most hospi- 
 tably inclined and was the possessor of some of the finest 
 and oldest Madeira wine in the country; naturally his in- 
 vitations to dinner were rarely declined. I used to meet at 
 his table the most distinguished generals of our army and 
 the members of the Cabinet. These gentlemen for the 
 most part were taciturn and serious, but Mr. Judah P. 
 Benjamin, the Secretary of State, and Mr. Trenholm were 
 both gifted conversationalists and very witty, and they 
 always enlivened the banquets with anecdotes. Mr. Pierre 
 Soule, of Louisiana, was also a frequent guest; he was a 
 most interesting talker. It was Mr. Soul6, who when 
 United States Minister to Spain, after the duel between 
 his son and the Duke of Alba, brother-in-law of the French 
 Emperor, shot and crippled for life the Marquis de Turgot, 
 the French Ambassador to Spain. 
 
 Despite the sad state of affairs, both in the Capital and 
 in the country, there were balls and parties, and "marrying 
 and giving in marriage" going on in Richmond. Mr. 
 McFarland, a wealthy banker, was to give a ball and social 
 Richmond was all agog over the prospect. To attend this 
 ball it was necessary for me to have a new uniform. With 
 
224 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 any amount of Confederate money at my disposal, the 
 modern man might ask why I did not go to a tailor and 
 order one, but that was not the way we did things in those 
 days. In the first place, there were no stores and had there 
 been there would not have been anything in them for sale. I 
 had to search the town before I found a man who possessed 
 a few yards of gray cloth and willing to part with it for 
 several hundred dollars in Confederate money. I finally 
 found such a man, and also bought from him a pair of 
 boots made out of thick, half-tanned cowskin for which I 
 paid three hundred dollars. I looked so nice in my new 
 togs that I was immediately asked by an army surgeon 
 to be one of the groomsmen at his wedding, and I also 
 attended the wedding of the beautiful Miss Hetty Cary 
 to General John Pegram which had so sad an ending a few 
 days afterwards when General Pegram was killed. 
 
 While the young people were laughing, dancing, and 
 being killed, the black clouds of adversity were gathering 
 over our beloved Confederacy. Bitter dissension had re- 
 sulted from the removal of General Johnston from the 
 command of the Western army — a step which President 
 Davis took in response to popular clamor for a change. 
 This demand did not come from Johnston's soldiers, but 
 from the populace, who cried out that if Johnston contin- 
 ued his strategy, the Western army would soon be in the 
 Gulf of Mexico: they wanted an aggressive man put in 
 command, and Mr. Davis gave them General Hood. He 
 was aggressive enough, Heaven knows! After Hood's 
 bloody victory at Franklin, in which some seventeen 
 Southern generals fell, Mr. Davis was heard to observe 
 that "one more such victory and there would not be any 
 Western army left." After the disastrous defeat at Nash- 
 ville the very men who had clamored to have General 
 Johnston superseded, clamored against Mr. Davis for hay- 
 ing removed him. 
 
 The Confederate Congress was at open war with Presi- 
 
The "Debacle" draws near 225 
 
 dent Davis and missed no opportunity to thwart his poli- 
 cies. They refused point-blank to adopt any of his sugges- 
 tions for the relief of the pitiable condition of the country, 
 and in rejecting the financial schemes submitted by Mr. 
 Trenholm, the Senate Finance Committee frankly told 
 that gentleman that under no circumstances could they 
 adopt his suggestions, as it would imply their sanction of 
 a measure emanating from Mr. Davis's administration! 
 Mr. Trenholm told them that when they had treated Mr. 
 Memminger, his predecessor in the Treasury Department, 
 in the same way, Mr. Memminger had consulted him as a 
 friend as to the course he should pursue, and that he, Mr. 
 Trenholm, had advised him to resign. Now that he him- 
 self was placed in a similar position it was necessary that 
 he should do likewise. The Senate Committee protested 
 that such a course would not do at all, as they had a finan- 
 cial proposition of their own which they wanted him to 
 father on account of the popular belief in his ability as a 
 financier. Mr. Trenholm, no less frank than they were, 
 informed them, after glancing over their bill, that he had a 
 reputation among business men to maintain, and that if 
 he put his name and gave his approval to such a measure, 
 financiers would laugh at him. He then went to Mr. Davis 
 and tendered his resignation. Mr. Davis told him that it 
 was his duty to remain in the Cabinet; that he, Mr. Davis, 
 recognized that with a Congress at open war with the 
 administration nothing could be done to relieve the Treas- 
 ury. He declared he needed Mr. Trenholm's clear head 
 and advice, and begged him to stand by him in his hour of 
 need. 
 
 As an example of the demoralization of the Confederate 
 Government at this time, I remember going into the Sen- 
 ate Chamber one day while that august body was in ses- 
 sion. Heavy firing was going on at the front which could 
 not only be plainly heard inside the building, but made 
 the windows rattle when particularly heavy guns were 
 
226 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 discharged. To this ominous obligato the lawmakers were 
 earnestly debating the question as to how many daily news- 
 papers should be placed on the desk of each Senator every 
 morning. While these petty quarrels were going on, the 
 destiny of a whole people was being ruthlessly decided in 
 blood and suffering; we men in the trenches fought, shiv- 
 ered, and starved outside the city, and danced and made 
 merry whenever we were allowed to come within its limits, 
 little dreaming that the end was so near. 
 
 The Southern soldier was a very determined fellow, and 
 at the same time reckless and light-hearted; one moment 
 he would be in deep distress over the loss of some dear 
 comrade and the next he would be shouting with laughter 
 over some senseless joke perpetrated by one of his com- 
 panions. I went one day to a tobacco warehouse, then 
 used as a hospital, to see my friend Captain F. W. Dawson, 
 who was very seriously wounded. The ladies of Richmond 
 were very kind to the wounded and out of their scanty 
 means they managed to make dainties which they would 
 carry to the hospitals and distribute themselves. The day 
 was hot and I found my friend lying on a cot near the open 
 front door, so weak that he could not speak above a whis- 
 per, and after greeting him and speaking some words of 
 cheer I saw that he was anxious to tell me something. I 
 leaned over him to hear what he had to say, and the poor 
 fellow whispered in my ear, " Jimmie, for God's sake, make 
 them move my cot to the back of the building." 
 
 I assured him that he had been placed in the choicest 
 spot in the hospital, where he could get any little air that 
 might be stirring; but he still insisted that he wanted to 
 be moved, giving as a reason that every lady who entered 
 the place washed his face and fed him with jelly. The re- 
 sult was that his face felt sore and he was stuffed so full 
 of jelly that he was most uncomfortable, as he was so 
 weak he could not defend himself, and the procession of 
 women would not listen to his protests. Shaking with 
 
Dawson in Hospital 227 
 
 laughter, I delivered his request to the head surgeon, who 
 pinned a notice on Dawson's sheet to the effect that ''This 
 man must only be washed and fed by the regular nurses." 
 Dawson was a gallant soldier and served on the staffs of 
 J. E. B. Stuart, Fitzhugh Lee, and Longstreet. He recov- 
 ered from his wounds and in 1873 married my sister Sarah. 
 
CHAPTER XXVII 
 
 Ordered to accompany Mrs. Davis and party south — No Pullman cars in 
 those days — President Davis bids his family good-bye — Insolent deserters 
 insult Mrs. Davis at Charlotte, North Carolina — A Hebrew gentleman gives 
 her shelter — Midshipmen guarding the Confederacy's gold escort her to 
 Abbeville, South Carolina — President Davis and his Cabinet at Abbeville. 
 
 The spring of 1865 was fast approaching and we ex- 
 pected soon to see great changes. One army or the other 
 would surely attack ; they could not stand still indefinitely. 
 One morning things became very lively at Battery 
 Semmes. A rifled gun in my division exploded and an 
 eight-inch smooth-bore was dismounted by a well-directed 
 shot from Signal Hill. About noon my commander sent 
 for me and, to my amazement, ordered me to go up to 
 Richmond and report in person to the Secretary of the 
 Navy, adding that I had better take my belongings with> 
 me. I at once began to think of all my sins of commission! 
 and omission. What could a Secretary of the Navy want' 
 to see a passed midshipman for unless it was to give him a 
 reprimand? Arriving In Richmond, I made my way to the 
 Navy Department at once, and, to my surprise, I was 
 shown into the Secretary's sanctum without delay. Mr. 
 Mallory, instead of receiving me with a frown, was smiling, 
 and if I had not been a midshipman I should really have 
 thought he was glad to see me. To my surprise he told me 
 that I was to accompany Mrs. Jefferson Davis south, and 
 added, with a merry twinkle in his eyes, that the daughters 
 of the Secretary of the Treasury were to be of the party. 
 I hurried to Mr. Trenholm's house with the news, but no 
 one there seemed at all surprised. I then went to the Presi- 
 dent's mansion, which was only a block away, and had a 
 few words with Mrs. Davis, who seemed to take it as a 
 matter of course that I was to go south with her. There 
 was not the slightest appearance of excitement or prepara- 
 
Ordered to accompany Mrs. Davis 229 
 
 tion for a long journey about the Confederate executive 
 mansion, and no one would ever have dreamed that a 
 flight from a doomed city was about to take place. 
 
 Returning to Mr. Trenholm's house, I dined with the 
 family and we laughed and talked; but none of us spoke 
 of the coming journey. In fact we young people were in 
 blissful ignorance concerning the momentous events about 
 to take place. After all, there was nothing extraordinary 
 about Mrs. Davis's going south, for the President had 
 frequently expressed a desire to have his family go to 
 Charlotte, North Carolina, where they would be out of 
 the turmoil and excitement of their surroundings in Rich- 
 mond. So far as I was personally concerned, I took it for 
 granted that I should return to the front after I had ful- 
 filled my mission of accompanying the party to their desti- 
 nation. 
 
 It was then the Friday preceding the fall of Richmond, 
 and about eight o'clock in the evening we received the ex- 
 pected word that it was time for us to start for the station. 
 A few minutes after we arrived there we were joined by 
 Mrs. Davis, her sister, and the children, escorted by Col- 
 onel Burton N. Harrison, the President's private secre- 
 tary. The party arrived at the station in an overloaded 
 carriage, Mrs. Davis being the fortunate possessor of about 
 the only pair of carriage horses in Richmond. These ani- 
 mals had made some lucky escapes from being requisi- 
 tioned for the army, as, owing to the necessities of the 
 family, they had once been sold and had been bought by 
 two or three gentlemen and presented again to Mrs. Davis, 
 only to be seized shortly afterwards by a provost guard 
 on the street while Mrs. Davis was seated in the vehicle. 
 President Davis would not lift a finger to save them, say- 
 ing that other people's horses had been pressed for service 
 in the army, and he did not see any reason why his wife's 
 should not be taken in the same way. But again influen- 
 tial friends persuaded the quartermaster to send them back, 
 
230 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 and their last service to their mistress was to start her on 
 that memorable and eventful journey. 
 
 There were no Pullman sleeping-coaches in those days, 
 and it was with great difficulty that an old creaky passenger 
 car, long a stranger to paint and varnish, had been se- 
 cured for the wife of the chief magistrate of a nation of 
 some fifteen or twenty millions of people. We at once en- 
 tered the car and seated ourselves on the lumpy seats 
 which were covered with dingy and threadbare brownish 
 red plush, very suggestive of the vermin with which it 
 afterwards proved to be infested. The sleepy little chil- 
 dren were laid on the seats and made as comfortable as 
 possible under the circumstances, but they had hardly 
 closed their eyes before President Davis entered the car. 
 He spoke to us all pleasantly and cheerfully, then took a 
 seat beside his wife and entered into conversation with 
 her. They talked earnestly until the signal for our depar- 
 ture was sounded, but in those days the trains were not 
 run by schedule. You started when the train moved and 
 you arrived when you got to your destination; that was 
 all anybody knew about it. Mr. Davis rose from his seat 
 at the sound of the bell and went from one to the other 
 of his children kissing them good-bye; then he bade fare- 
 well to his sister-in-law. Miss Maggie Howell, and affec- 
 tionately embraced his wife. Passing the seats where sat 
 the Misses Trenholm and myself, he gave us all a friendly 
 handshake and wished us hon voyage. He then stepped on 
 to the platform closely followed by Colonel Harrison. The 
 signal to start was one of many false alarms, and the 
 President and his secretary walked up and down on the 
 platform outside, while engaged in what appeared to us 
 onlookers very serious conversation. 
 
 It was ten o'clock before our wheezy and feeble locomo- 
 tive gave a screech and a jerk which started us on our 
 journey. Colonel Harrison precipitately left his chief and 
 jumped on board the moving train while the President 
 
Mrs. Davis at Charlotte 231 
 
 waved a second farewell to his loved ones. We proceeded 
 at a snail's pace for about twelve miles when suddenly 
 we came to a standstill. Our ramshackle locomotive had 
 balked; no amount of persuasion on the part of the engi- 
 neer could induce it to haul us over a slight up-grade, and 
 we remained where we were for the rest of the night. 
 It was the afternoon of the next day when we arrived at 
 Burkesville Junction, where Colonel Harrison received 
 the news of the battle between Generals Pickett and 
 Sheridan and telegraphed the information at once to Presi- 
 dent Davis. 
 
 We did not reach Charlotte until Tuesday; a journey 
 which to-day requires only six or seven hours, had taken 
 us four days to accomplish! There was a delay of two or 
 three hours at Charlotte and, while waiting, Colonel Harri- 
 son used the time to go into the city in search of shelter 
 for Mrs. Davis and her helpless family. The inhabitants, 
 however, did not rush forward to offer this lady in distress 
 hospitality as they might have done a year or two before 
 misfortune had overtaken her. They seemed to take it 
 for granted that the end of the Confederacy was at hand, 
 although the news of the fall of Richmond did not reach 
 them until two days after our arrival. Mrs. Davis would 
 have been in a sad plight if it had not been for the courage 
 and chivalric courtesy of a Jewish gentleman, a Mr. Weil, 
 who hospitably invited her to stay at his home until she 
 could make other arrangements. May the God of Abra- 
 ham, Isaac, and Jacob bless him wherever he is! 
 
 The news of Mrs. Davis's arrival in Charlotte quickly 
 spread through the city, which by that time was thronged 
 with stragglers and deserters — conscripts — the very scum 
 of the army, and a mob of these wretches gathered round 
 the car in which she sat. The wretches reviled her in most 
 shocking language. Colonel Harrison, who had returned 
 from his quest for lodgings, and I closed the open windows 
 of the car so that the ladies could not hear what was being 
 
232 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 said. We two men were helpless to protect them from the 
 epithets of a crowd of some seventy-five or a hundred 
 blackguards, but we stationed ourselves at the only door 
 which was not locked, determined that they should not 
 enter the car. Colonel Harrison was unarmed, and I had 
 only my sword, and a regulation revolver in the holster 
 hanging from my belt. Several of the most daring of the 
 brutes climbed up the steps, but when Colonel Harrison 
 firmly told them that he would not permit them to enter 
 that car the cowards slunk away. When the disturbance 
 had quieted down Mrs. Davis, her sister, and her children 
 left the train, and with the daughters of Mr. Trenholm I 
 continued on to Abbeville, South Carolina, where the 
 Trenholms had previously engaged a pleasant house. It 
 took us two more days to reach Abbeville, and it was not 
 until our arrival there that we learned of the fall of Rich- 
 mond and that President Davis and his Cabinet were at 
 Danville, Virginia. 
 
 Mrs. Davis remained for a few days in Charlotte, and 
 then it was reported that General Sherman's army was 
 headed that way. It was necessary for her to seek some 
 haven of safety. She was indeed in a forlorn position, as 
 nobody wished to shelter her for fear that the Union troops 
 would destroy their homes if they did. Every road through 
 the country was infested by deserters who would have given 
 her scant consideration if they had wanted anything she 
 possessed, and the only human being she could look to for 
 protection was Colonel Harrison, who would have stood 
 small chance of defending her against the bands of undisci- 
 plined shirkers who were traversing the country and who 
 never hesitated to take what they wanted from the weak 
 and helpless. Just as things looked most hopeless to this 
 unhappy lady, the midshipmen from the schoolship Patrick 
 Henry, under the command of Lieutenant William H. 
 Parker, arrived in Charlotte. When Richmond was ordered 
 to be evacuated the authorities almost forgot the midship- 
 
Midshipmen guard Confederacy's Gold 233 
 
 men, and it was only at the last moment that Lieutenant 
 Parker received the order to blow up the "school " and make 
 the best of his way to Charlotte, North Carolina. The mid- 
 shipmen were landed on the river-bank and as they trudged 
 toward Richmond they were saluted by the explosions of 
 the magazines not only of their own ship, but also of those 
 of the Confederate ironclads and wooden gunboats. When 
 they arrived at the railway station at Manchester, across 
 the river from Richmond, they found not only that the sol- 
 diers had left, but also that no arrangements had been made 
 for their transportation. Here a piece of good luck came 
 their way. The Treasury officials, with some five hundred 
 thousand dollars in gold and silver coin (all that the Con- 
 federacy possessed) packed in kegs, were standing help- 
 lessly on the platform alongside of a train on which they 
 hoped to get away, while a drunken mob was fast gathering 
 around them. Hundreds of barrels of whiskey had been 
 stove in and their contents had filled the gutters in Rich- 
 mond, and this crowd of swine, after filling themselves with 
 the fiery liquor out of the ditches, became very brave, and 
 determined to divide the assets of the Confederacy among 
 themselves. The Treasury officials rather doubtfully asked 
 Lieutenant Parker if he could protect the treasure, and when 
 the little midshipmen were formed the mob commenced to 
 jeer the children. But something happened ! — and before 
 those ruffians realized it, they were all on the outside. Those 
 midshipmen were regulars, and the mob instantly appreci- 
 ated the fact that the guns and bayonets in the hands of 
 those youngsters were going to be used at the word of com- 
 mand, and the scoundrels were not so drunk that they did 
 not appreciate the fact that "discretion was the better 
 part of valor," and they fled. 
 
 The Treasury men were so impressed by the easy way in 
 which the midshipmen had handled the situation that they 
 begged Lieutenant Parker to accompany the specie with 
 his command; the money was loaded on the train and the 
 
234 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 midshipmen piled in after it, and thus it was that they 
 arrived at Charlotte. 
 
 The little command only had a short breathing spell at 
 Charlotte, as the enemy were fast approaching and there 
 was little time for them left in which to make a "get away." 
 Lieutenant Parker persuaded Mrs. Davis to trust herself 
 to the protection of the midshipmen, and they again started 
 on their sad and painful journey. The railways by this time 
 were completely disorganized and they could only proceed 
 as far as Chester, South Carolina, in the cars. There Lieuten- 
 ant Parker commandeered some wagons which he loaded 
 with the gold and Mrs. Davis and her family. They then 
 started over the rough country roads for Abbeville, South 
 Carolina. 
 
 What a distressing spectacle this train of three or four 
 wagons, hauled by broken-down and leg-weary mules, must 
 have presented, and what must have been the apprehen- 
 sions of that stately and serene woman, the wife of the 
 President of a nation of Anglo-Saxons, as she sat, surrounded 
 by her helpless children, on one of these primitive vehicles 
 while the half-starved animals slowly dragged her over the 
 weary miles. A platoon of the middies marched in front of 
 the singular procession, acting as an advance guard. An- 
 other detachment followed the wagons, serving as a rear 
 guard, and on either side of the train marched the rest of 
 the youngsters. And not far away, on either flank and in 
 their rear, hovered deserters waiting either for an oppor- 
 tunity or the necessary courage to pounce upon fhe, to 
 them, untold wealth which those wagons contained. 
 
 When night fell on the first day of their march, they 
 stopped at a country roadside church which at least af- 
 forded shelter from the elements. Mrs. Davis, her sister, 
 and the children slept on the bare floor, and Lieutenant 
 Parker, as commanding officer, rested in the pulpit. The 
 midshipmen who were not on guard duty lay down under 
 the trees outside, in company with the mules. 
 
President Davis and his Cabinet 235 
 
 While Mrs. Davis and her escort of ragged boys were 
 slowly plodding on their way, things began to happen in the 
 beautiful village of Abbeville, where every residence was 
 surrounded by a garden and which impressed one as a more 
 fitting setting for a May-day festival than for the scene 
 of the disruption of a government. First, Senator Wigfall, 
 the man who had received the surrender of Major Ander- 
 son's sword at Fort Sumter, arrived. He was the most 
 malignant and unrelenting of all President Davis's political 
 enemies. Before making Texas his home he had been a 
 resident of Abbeville, and he at once went to the house of 
 Mr. Armisted Burt, an old friend, to ask for hospitality. 
 Now it so happened that Mr. Burt had found means to send 
 a message to Mr. Davis asking him, if he passed through 
 Abbeville, to make his, Mr. Burt's house, his home. In less 
 than forty-eight hours after Mr. Wigfall's arrival, who 
 should appear at the house but Mr. Davis! Mr. Burt was 
 placed in a most embarrassing position for a few moments, 
 but Mr. Wigfall relieved the tension of the situation by has- 
 tily taking his departure out of one door as Mr. Davis 
 entered the other. 
 
 The next distinguished persons to arrive were President 
 Davis's Cabinet, in an ambulance, with the exception of 
 Mr. Trenholm, and the Secretary of War, General Breckin- 
 ridge, who preferred to ride on horseback. He made a great 
 impression on me with his superb figure mounted on a large 
 and fat charger, a rare sight in those days. The Cabinet 
 camped in and around their ambulance which had stopped 
 in the suburbs. I visited their camp and was somewhat 
 surprised to see among these serious and care-worn-looking 
 gentlemen the beaming smile on the round face of the rotund 
 Secretary of State, Mr. Judah P. Benjamin. He was the 
 picture of amiability and contentment. Mr. Trenholm, who 
 had been taken seriously ill on the journey from Danville, 
 had been left at a house on the road. Mr. Trenholm after- 
 wards told me that Mr. Benjamin, up to the time he had 
 
236 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 left them, had been the life of the party with his wonderful 
 fund of anecdote which continuously rippled from his 
 mouth during the daytime, and when the shades of evening 
 fell, and a more serious mood came over him, he would hold 
 his small but distinguished audience spellbound by repeat- 
 ing poetry from the apparently exhaustless storehouse of 
 his memory. Mr. Trenholm also told me that he felt cer- 
 tain that Mr. Benjamin had at the time secreted in his valise 
 (which was a sort of Aladdin's lamp from which he could 
 instantly produce anything that was needed) a complete 
 disguise with which he intended to make his escape from his 
 pursuers — and such indeed proved to be the fact. Through- 
 out this whole trying journey Mr. Benjamin smoked most 
 fragrant Havana cigars, much to the astonishment of his 
 companions who wondered where he could have obtained 
 such an unlimited supply of such a rare luxury. 
 
 Then Mrs. Davis arrived with her ragged and mud- 
 stained escort, most of whom by this time were walking on 
 their "uppers," or the bare soles of their poor bruised feet. 
 On arriving at Mr. Burt's house she expressed to her host a 
 fear that his home would be destroyed by the Union troops 
 when they learned that she had been sheltered there. The 
 grand old Southern aristocrat made her a profound bow and 
 replied, "Madam, I know of no better use my house could 
 be put to than to be burned for such a cause." 
 
 One of Mrs. Davis's children was quite ill, and it was sent 
 over to the Trenholms* house where it could be made more 
 comfortable, as Mr. Burt's home was crowded with guests. 
 
 The midshipmen pushed on to Augusta, Georgia, some 
 eighty miles away, seeking for a safe place to deposit the 
 treasure, and on their arrival were told to get out of there as 
 quickly as possible, as Sherman's men were expected at any 
 moment ; so back they trudged to Abbeville where the Sec- 
 retary of the Navy ordered them to be disbanded. These 
 boys, averaging between fourteen and eighteen years of age, 
 some of them nearly a thousand miles from their homes, the 
 
President Davis at Abbeville 237 
 
 railroads destroyed, and the country filled with lawless men, 
 were turned loose to shift for themselves. The money was 
 turned over to the care of the soldiers. They took such care 
 of it that unto this day never a dollar of it has been traced ! 
 The lie that was circulated about Mr. Davis having got 
 any of it was afterwards disproved by the poverty in which 
 he and his wife lived and died. 
 
 While Mr. Davis was at Abbeville a very unpleasant in- 
 cident took place which those who were present and after- 
 wards wrote accounts of his flight from Richmond have 
 avoided mentioning, I suppose because it was not to the 
 credit of some of the Confederate soldiers. In the moun- 
 tains of North and South Carolina near the Tennessee line 
 there were bands of bandits who called themselves "guer- 
 rillas." A false report reached Mr. Davis to the effect that 
 these brigands, learning that a large amount of gold was 
 being taken through the country protected only by a few 
 little boys, had made a sudden descent from their mountain 
 fastnesses and were rapidly approaching Abbeville. On 
 receiving this report Mr. Davis mounted his horse and rode 
 out to a camp where some of the soldiers were bivouacked. 
 The soldiers were drawn up to receive him and he made 
 them a short address — very short. He told them of the 
 report about the guerrillas, and also told them that both 
 General Sherman and General Johnston attacked this band 
 wherever they found them on account of the many atroci- 
 ties they had been guilty of against both Union men and }l 
 Confederates, and wound up his talk by asking the men if 
 they would go out with him to attack those robbers and 
 murderers. As he paused for a reply, a private pushed his 
 horse to the front and said: *'Our lives are just as precious 
 to us as yours is to you. The war is over and we are going 
 home!" And without the slightest semblance of order the 
 gang — I can call them nothing else — dispersed, leaving 
 those few gallant and loyal fellows who accompanied Mr. 
 Davis until he was captured. 
 
 ? 
 
CHAPTER XXVIII 
 
 President Davis departs from Abbeville — I carry a communication to 
 General Fry at Augusta, Georgia — United States troops occupy Abbeville — 
 We bury the silver chests — Paroled at Washington, Georgia — Accompany 
 Mr. Trenholm to Columbia, where he buys a home — Mr. Wagner, of Fraser, 
 Trenholm & Co., pays to avoid arrest in Charleston, and Mr. Trenholm is ar- 
 rested in Columbia — Placed in the common jail — Mrs. King hides the gold 
 under the Federal commander's nose — General Gillmore, U.S.A., treats Mr. 
 Trenholm magnanimously. 
 
 Before Mr. Davis left Abbeville I begged him to allow 
 me to accompany him, but he told me that it would be 
 impossible, as I had no horse, and that it was not in his 
 power to procure me one. He spoke to me in the most 
 fatherly way, saying that as soon as things quieted down 
 somewhat I must make my way to the trans- Mississippi, 
 where we still had an army and two or three small gun- 
 boats on the Red River, and in the mean time he would 
 give me a letter to General Fry, commanding at Augusta, 
 asking him to attach me temporarily to his staff. He also 
 gave me an official communication for General Fry and 
 instructed me to try and get transportation by some wagon 
 going in that direction. 
 
 I watched Mr. Davis as he mounted his horse, bade him 
 good-bye, and stood looking after him as he took the road 
 which led to Washington, Georgia. That was the last 
 time I ever saw him. 
 
 Hearing of a farmer who had an old broken-kneed, spa- 
 vined white horse hid in the swamp, I soon made a deal 
 with him by which I became the owner of the equine frame 
 and he the possessor of several thousand dollars in Con- 
 federate money which he believed some day in the vague 
 future would have a value. I then went to Augusta, and 
 when I gave General Fry the document Mr. Davis had 
 entrusted me with (the contents of which I never learned) I 
 believe I delivered the last official communication Presi- 
 
"Sherman's Bummers" 239 
 
 dent Davis ever sent to a general of the Confederate 
 Army. 
 
 In Augusta I remained only two or three days. Every 
 one realized that the end of the Confederacy had come so 
 far as they were concerned, and people were flying from 
 the city not knowing where they were going — only anx- 
 ious to escape from the place they were in. 
 
 General Fry advised me to return to Abbeville, as I had 
 friends there, and being of no possible use where I was, I 
 accepted his kindly counsel and returned. 
 
 The soldiers who had accompanied Mr. Davis had not 
 surrendered at Appomattox, but now there was a stream 
 of paroled men, and men who had deserted before the end 
 came in Virginia, passing through the once peaceful town. 
 While these men committed no outrages when they went 
 into a private house to ask for food or shelter, they adopted 
 a threatening attitude which was very offensive. Fortu- 
 nately a younger brother of Mrs. William L. Trenholm, a 
 lieutenant in the South Carolina regulars, arrived, and while 
 we could not prevent the crowds of hungry men from swarm- 
 ing over the lower floors of the house, where although not 
 invited, they made themselves very much at home, we 
 could and did keep them from invading the upper portion 
 of the home where the ladies secluded themselves. 
 
 When the danger from our own men had passed, owing 
 to their hurried exit from the town, we had immediately 
 to prepare for another. Sherman's men were very near 
 and were fast approaching, and the inhabitants were in 
 mortal terror of the lawless crew known as "Sherman's 
 bummers," who rode on the flanks of his army, accounts 
 of whose fiendish outrages were on every tongue. 
 
 While we noticed no change in the demeanor of the 
 slaves, still we had no means of knowing what their atti- 
 tude would be when the Union troops entered the place, 
 and this uncertainty caused us some anxiety. 
 
 In the house were two large and very heavy chests of 
 
240 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 silver which Lieutenant Macbeth (Mrs. W. L. Trenholm's 
 brother) and I determined to attempt to save by burying 
 it. We were afraid to take any of the negroes into our con- 
 fidence, so we determined to do the work ourselves. We 
 waited until midnight when every one on the premises was 
 supposed to be asleep, and then, carrying our spades, we 
 stealthily stole into the garden and proceeded to dig two 
 large graves. The night was well suited for our work, as 
 there was a moon but it was somewhat obscured by clouds. 
 When we had finished our task we entered the house and 
 by great exertion managed to carry out the chests and 
 bury them. As soon as they were covered with earth, it 
 was evident, even in the dark, that the newly upturned 
 ground would betray us. There was nothing left to do but 
 to dig up the entire garden if our hiding-place was not to 
 attract the attention of the first passer-by, and this we at 
 once proceeded to do. It was no light job, as the garden 
 must have comprised nearly an eighth of an acre, and 
 daylight came while the task was still uncompleted. I 
 suddenly looked up from my work and there, to my con- 
 sternation, I saw " Nat," Mrs. Trenholm's butler, the slave 
 whose loyalty to the family we had grave doubts about, 
 leaning against the fence, on the top of which his arms were 
 resting while he calmly watched what we were doing. I 
 asked him how long he had been there, and he frankly re- 
 plied: "I'se been here ever since you gentlemen started 
 work." I then asked him why he had not offered to help 
 us, and he said it was because he thought we did not want 
 any one to know what we were doing. Naturally it was too 
 late to make any other disposition of the silver, and we 
 felt sure that it would be lost. That morning the advance 
 guard of the Federals entered the village. Two or three sol- 
 diers came to the house and I saw "Nat" (standing over 
 the very spot where the silver was buried) talking to them. 
 Of course we expected a demand would be made for spades, 
 but, be it said to "Nat's" honor, he never betrayed us. 
 
Paroled at Washington, Georgia 241 
 
 A few years after this incident occurred, I met "Nat" in 
 Columbia. He was then a member of the legislature and 
 one of our lawmakers! The Union soldiers did not molest 
 us in any way, and much to our astonishment who should 
 drive up to the house but "Daddy" Peter, Mr. Trenholm's 
 old negro coachman, with the landau and its handsome 
 pair of bays. "Daddy" Peter, on the approach of Sher- 
 man's army to Columbia, had fled to the swamp with his 
 cherished horses and hidden them until the danger of their 
 being seized had passed. Mr. and Mrs. George Trenholm 
 next arrived, Mr. Trenholm being still quite ill. Nobody 
 seemed disposed to molest him, although the Federal au- 
 thorities knew of his presence in the town. 
 
 Major Julian Mitchel unexpectedly arrived at the 
 house and informed us that all Confederate officers who 
 had not been paroled were being arrested and treated with 
 a great deal of harshness. As there was no officer of the 
 United States Army authorized to parole us nearer than 
 Washington, Georgia, forty miles away. Colonel Tren- 
 holm, Major Mitchel, and myself got into Mr. Trenholm's 
 carriage at daylight the next morning and drove to Wash- 
 ington, Georgia, where we were most affably received by 
 Captain Lott Abraham, U.S.A., who took our paroles 
 and gave us each, for our own protection, a certificate 
 that we had been paroled. 
 
 In the evening Major Mitchel went to call on friends 
 who resided in the town, and Colonel Trenholm and I paid 
 a visit at the house of Judge Andrews, one of the most 
 prominent residents of the place, and a consistent Union 
 man, although his whole family were ardent "rebs." One 
 of the judge's daughters. Miss Eliza Frances Andrews, kept 
 a diary in those days which was afterwards published in 
 191 1 under the title of "Wartime Journal of a Georgia 
 Girl"; and in it she makes the following mention of our 
 visit: — 
 
242 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 May 16, 1S65 — Two delightful visitors after tea, Colonel 
 Trenholm (son of the Secretary of the Treasury) and Mr. Morgan, 
 of the navy, who is to marry his sister. 
 
 The news this evening is that we have all got to take the oath 
 of allegiance before getting married. This horrid law aroused 
 much talk in our rebellious circle, and the gentlemen laughed very 
 much when Cora said, "Talk about dying for your country, but 
 what is that to being an old maid for it?" 
 
 The chief thought of our men is how to embroil the United 
 States either in foreign or internal commotions, so that we can 
 rebel again. They all say that if the Yankees had given us any 
 sort of tolerable terms they would submit quietly, though unwill- 
 ingly, to the inevitable; but if they carry out the abominable 
 programme of which flying rumors reach us, extermination itself 
 will be better than submission. Garnett says that if it comes to 
 the worst, he can turn bushwhacker; and we all came to the con- 
 clusion that if this kind of peace continues, bushwhacking will be 
 the most respectable occupation a man can engage in. Mr. 
 Morgan said, with a lugubrious smile, that his "most ambitious 
 hope now is to get himself hanged as quickly as possible." 
 
 Possibly, if Miss Andrews had ever read President Lin- 
 coln's proclamation ordering all persons who had engaged 
 in preying on American commerce, when captured, to be 
 treated as pirates,^ she would not have thought that re- 
 mark so amusing. It was fortunate for me that none of 
 the Federal officers in the neighborhood knew that I had 
 been engaged in that business. As it was, when the am- 
 nesty proclamation was issued, I found myself excepted 
 under three separate headings, namely: Having been at the 
 
 * . . . And I hereby proclaim and declare that if any person, under the pre- 
 tended authority of the said States, or under any other pretense, shall molest 
 a vessel of the United States, or the persons or cargo on board of her, such 
 person shall be held amenable to the laws of the United States for the preven- 
 tion and punishment of piracy. 
 
 In witness whereof I have hereunto set my hand and caused the seal of the 
 United States to be affixed. 
 
 Done at the city of Washington this 19th day of April, a.d. 1861, and of the 
 Independence of the United States the eighty-fifth. 
 
 [l.s.] Abraham Lincoln. 
 
 By the President. 
 
 William H. Seward, Secretary of Slate. 
 
Abbeville 243 
 
 United States Military or Naval Academy — being worth 
 more than twenty thousand dollars — and having preyed 
 on American commerce. 
 
 In Abbeville provisions were very scarce, and the farm- 
 ers who did have a few vegetables and chickens, of course 
 would not part with them for worthless Confederate money. 
 Probably the only gold in the place was in Mr. Trenholm's 
 house, and there was not a coin in the lot of less value than 
 a twenty-dollar gold-piece, and of course nobody could 
 change such a sum as that. But fortunately the family 
 owned stock in the Graniteville Mills, which manufactory 
 declared dividends in cotton cloth. Mr. Alexander Mac- 
 beth and I would take a bolt of this cloth and put it into 
 the carriage and drive into the country away off the usual 
 routes of travel, stopping at farmhouses, where we had no 
 difficulty in exchanging a few yards of it for anything in 
 the way of edibles the farmers possessed. Mr. Macbeth 
 afterwards married Miss Eliza, one of Mr. Trenholm's 
 daughters. 
 
 The United States army officers stationed at Abbeville 
 showed no disposition to molest Mr. Trenholm, and their 
 ignoring of his presence there lulled us into a false feeling 
 of security concerning the Government's intentions con- 
 cerning him, from which we were later to have a rude 
 awakening. 
 
 The house in Abbeville was small for such a large family, 
 and with the idea of giving young Mrs. Trenholm and her 
 little children more room, Mr. Trenholm decided to go to 
 Columbia to see if he could not get a more commodious 
 house. Mr. Trenholm's beautiful villa in the suburbs had 
 been destroyed when Columbia was burned, but there were 
 still left in the city a few residences forming a sort of 
 fringe around the outskirts of the once beautiful little city. 
 
 With two portmanteaus, one of which contained a large 
 sum of gold, Mr. Trenholm and I entered his carriage 
 soon after dark and started on the long drive to Columbia. 
 
244 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 We were compelled to go by carriage, as the railroads 
 had been destroyed, the fat-pine cross- ties burned to heat 
 the rails, and the red-hot rails wrapped around the trees 
 growing near the track. We used to call these iron rails 
 "Sherman's neckties," and the solemn-looking chimneys 
 standing guard over the former sites of once happy homes 
 were called by the natives "Sherman's monuments." 
 
 Arriving at Columbia we were hospitably entertained by 
 Mr. William Ford De Saussure, who was then living in the 
 residence formerly occupied by the president of the South 
 Carolina College and which stands to this day on the college 
 campus. Mr. De Saussure's home had shared the fate of 
 most of the houses of the city during the conflagration. 
 
 It was found impossible to rent a house, but Mr. Tren- 
 holm was fortunate enough to find a gentleman who was anx- 
 ious to sell his home, a large and comfortable one, for gold, 
 as he wished to leave the State. The people had not as yet 
 become accustomed to the greenback currency of their con- 
 querors and looked askance at it. The house was bought, 
 and the family moved to Columbia where they lived for 
 some weeks in peace and comfort until an unfortunate 
 episode occurred in Charleston. 
 
 Mr. Theodore Wagner, who was one of Mr. Trenholm's 
 partners, and whose first wife was a sister of Mr. Trenholm, 
 was a most generous man who wore his purse on his sleeve 
 at the service of any who cared to use it. He was also a 
 highly nervous and timid man. Learning of the reputation 
 he had for wealth and timidity, the provost marshal of 
 Charleston sent one of his employees with a message to the 
 effect that he was going to arrest Mr. Wagner on the charge 
 of treason, and the agent confidentially informed the un- 
 happy gentleman that he, the agent, had great influence 
 with the provost marshal and that for a trifling sum of ten 
 thousand dollars judiciously used he thought he could save 
 Mr. Wagner from the ignominy and discomfort incidental 
 to a long sojourn in a dirty jail, as well as an expensive trial 
 
Mr. Trenholm is arrested 245 
 
 for treason, a crime the punishment for which was death. 
 Badly frightened, Mr. Wagner hurriedly produced the 
 money, and was left in peace. 
 
 Laughing in their sleeves, the officials decided that if a 
 junior member of the firm of Fraser, Trenholm & Co. could 
 be so easily separated from such a large sum of money, un- 
 told wealth might be obtained from the head of the house, 
 especially as that head had been a member of Jefferson 
 Davis's Cabinet. So one sad day the colonel in command 
 at Columbia sent for Mr. Trenholm and told the old gentle- 
 man that he regretted to say that he had received orders 
 from the commanding officer at Charleston to arrest him 
 and send him forthwith to that city. The colonel was very 
 courteous and told Mr. Trenholm that if he would give his 
 word to report to the commanding general in Charleston 
 without delay, he (the colonel) would not place him under 
 restraint or send him there under guard. Mr. Trenholm 
 thanked him for his consideration and of course gladly gave 
 the required promise. 
 
 That night Mr. Trenholm and I, carrying two portman- 
 teaus, in one of which he had placed a very large sum in 
 twenty-dollar gold-pieces, entered his carriage and we drove 
 to Orangeburg, about forty miles away where we could take 
 a train, as the railway between Orangeburg and Charleston 
 had not been destroyed. When we arrived at the station in 
 Charleston we were shocked at seeing a company of negro 
 soldiers drawn up on the platform waiting for Mr. Tren- 
 holm. As the train came to a stop the white captain of the 
 colored company boarded the car and walking brusquely 
 up to the old white-haired gentleman demanded to know if 
 his name was Trenholm. On being answered in the affirma- 
 tive, he ordered Mr. Trenholm to come with him. I followed 
 Mr. Trenholm closely, and when we stepped on to the plat- 
 form the officer demanded to know who I was, and Mr. 
 Trenholm assured him I was only a young friend of his who 
 had accompanied him on the journey from Columbia; but 
 
246 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 the satrap was taking no chances, and as the soldiers closed 
 in around us, he ordered me to "fall in," telling me I could 
 explain at the jail. This was indeed a shock, as I had thought 
 that of course a man of Mr. Trenholm's position would first 
 be taken before the commanding general. It was a long and 
 rough march over the rough cobblestones on some streets 
 and through the mud of those which were not paved. There 
 were negro soldiers in front of us and on either side, and 
 behind us. One would have imagined that we were two 
 desperate criminals from the way all possible escape was 
 guarded against. Arriving at the jail I of course followed, or 
 attempted to follow, Mr. Trenholm through the door, as I 
 took it for granted I was expected to do, but a gruff voice 
 called out, "Stop that man!" and instantly a brutal negro 
 soldier reversed his musket and with the butt struck me a 
 fearful blow in the pit of my stomach. I staggered across 
 the sidewalk and sat down on the curb where in my agony 
 I vomited blood. Had I been an injured dog less notice 
 could not have been taken of me than was shown by the 
 negro soldiers. After sitting with my feet in the gutter for 
 some time, with a great effort, I stood up, and as no one 
 objected I staggered away from the accursed place. I had 
 been warned not to go near Mr. Wagner's house for fear of 
 complications; it was therefore necessary for me to find a 
 place where I could stay, and after a long and weary walk 
 I saw a sign in a window in Calhoun Street announcing 
 "Rooms for Rent." I engaged a room on condition that I 
 would produce my baggage before I occupied it, and having 
 Mr. Trenholm's checks and keys for his baggage, after a 
 short rest I started out again to walk to the station to get 
 the two heavy portmanteaus. There were no cabs in the 
 place, so I hired a man with a wheelbarrow, and placing the 
 portmanteaus on it I trudged alongside until they were 
 unloaded at my new place of abode. I did not know the 
 people who lived in the house and I was afraid to leave the 
 room while all that gold was in one of the frail pieces of lug- 
 
Mr. Trenholm in the Common Jail 247 
 
 gage. I felt sick and weary and had no appetite, so I was 
 well content to go supperless to bed. 
 
 The next morning I had to take chances and go out, for 
 two reasons, first, because it was necessary for me to get 
 some information as to how I could manage to see Mr. 
 Trenholm, and secondly, on account of the fact that the 
 people of the house declined to furnish me with meals. I 
 started out with the intention of trying to find some officer 
 of the regular army, as I felt assured that when I told such 
 a one that I only wanted to talk to Mr. Trenholm about 
 private family affairs he would assist me. But I was even 
 more fortunate than I had dared to hope, I ran into the 
 arms of a naval ensign who had been a classmate and cap- 
 tain of my gun's crew on the old frigate Constitution when 
 I was a midshipman at Annapolis ! He was a big fellow by 
 the name of Dichman and he was then on the admiral's 
 staff. As he threw his arms around me he exclaimed, "Well, 
 Little Morgan, I have caught you at last! What can I do 
 for you?" I told him of my trouble and how necessary it 
 was for me to see my friend, who was in the jail, and he said 
 he thought he could manage it for me, and he did. 
 
 When I entered the jail with my permit I found Mr. 
 Trenholm confined in a felon's cell which had only lately 
 been vacated by a convicted murderer who had been re- 
 leased when the general jail delivery took place on the fall 
 of Charleston. The only thing Mr. Trenholm had to sleep 
 on was the dirty straw this wretch had left behind him. 
 
 While I was in the cell the door was left open and the 
 sentry paced up and down in the corridor. Mr. Trenholm 
 found occasion to whisper to me quickly that he wanted me 
 to find Mrs. Henry King and ask her to take charge of the 
 gold and keep it safely for him. Mr. Trenholm was the 
 trustee of Mrs. King's small estate; he had been a friend of 
 her father, Mr. James L. Pettigrew, a lawyer of national 
 reputation, and a famous wit. Mr. Pettigrew had been a 
 consistent Union man. He had died during the war, and 
 
248 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 among his friends, when living, he had numbered Abraham 
 Lincoln, President of the United States, and when Charles- 
 ton was captured Mr. Lincoln had instructed the military 
 and naval authorities in the city to afford Mr. Pettigrew's 
 family every protection and to show them every attention. 
 
 Mrs. King was a young and beautiful widow; also an 
 authoress of some local renown; but she was more famed for 
 her powers of witty repartee than she was for either her 
 beauty, which was great, or her literary efforts. It was of 
 this lady that the story was told about the novelist Thack- 
 eray. When he visited America, and was presented to her, 
 he boorishly said, " I am glad to meet you Mrs. King, for I 
 have heard that you are the fastest lady received in society 
 in Charleston"; and Mrs. King replied, "I also heard that 
 you were a gentleman — we have both been misinformed!" 
 
 It was nearly nine o'clock at night when I found Mrs. 
 King's house and sent in my name, as I had no card. The 
 servant left the front door open and I could plainly see in 
 the brightly lighted parlor a number of army and navy 
 officers in their blue uniforms. Suddenly there appeared in 
 the hall a vision of loveliness in a white muslin dress who 
 asked in a soft and musical voice what my business was. I 
 told her, in almost a whisper, that I had come from Mr. 
 Trenholm with a request, and she hastily put her forefinger 
 to her pretty lips and made a sign to follow her. She led me 
 to the end of the hall, and there I whispered to her what 
 Mr. Trenholm wanted her to do, and she told me at once to 
 go and get the gold and bring it to her. She seemed some- 
 what surprised when I told her it was heavy and that as it 
 would not be safe for any one to walk through the streets 
 at that hour with a valise, as there were no policemen and 
 outrages were occurring every night, I would have to bring 
 it in my pockets and make several trips before I could de- 
 liver it all into her keeping. 
 
 In about half an hour I returned to the house and the 
 manservant who received me, chuckling with laughter for 
 
Mrs. King hides the Gold 249 
 
 some reason, showed me the way to the back door where I 
 waited for a moment while Mrs. King excused herself to her 
 guests before coming to meet me. She led the way upstairs 
 to her bedroom, and directing me to help her we pulled off 
 the coverings of a bed that was dainty enough to be the 
 resting-place of a fairy. We then rolled back the upper mat- 
 tress and I began to unload the yellow double eagles. The 
 breast and tail pockets of my coat were filled with the 
 handsome coins, as also were my vest pockets, my trousers 
 and hip-pockets, and while I was thus engaged the beautiful 
 lady, standing on the opposite side of the bed, was engaged 
 in spreading them over the lower mattress. We then re- 
 placed the upper mattress, and I could not help but laugh 
 when I realized the extraordinary situation in which I found 
 myself, assisting a strange lady in the making-up of her bed ! 
 Mrs. King was laughing, too, but for a different reason. Her 
 cause of merriment was so good that she could not keep it 
 to herself. Everybody knew that Mr. Wagner had paid ten 
 thousand dollars to keep from being arrested when nobody 
 had any intention of arresting him, and Mrs. King's joke 
 was that the provost marshal, who had scared Mr. Wagner 
 out of the money, and the commanding general, were both 
 present among her guests downstairs. 
 
 It was late when I finished my last trip and had assisted 
 Mrs. King in secreting the last coin, and her other guests 
 had long since taken their departure. Mrs. King informed 
 me that she had utilized one of my temporary absences by 
 cajoling the commanding officer into giving her a permit to 
 visit Mr. Trenholm in the jail, and she appeared there early 
 the next morning. 
 
 The day after Mr. Trenholm was incarcerated, the com- 
 manding general sent a carriage to the jail, and Mr. Tren- 
 holm, accompanied this time by a white officer, was placed 
 in it and driven to headquarters. The general received him 
 in his private office, and at first was very courteous, but 
 changed his attitude before the interview closed. Mr. 
 
250 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 Trenholm told me that the first thing the general said to 
 him was, "Mr. Trenholm, I suppose that you know you 
 were arrested by my orders and that I am the only man 
 who can release you." Mr. Trenholm said that he replied, 
 "I am very sorry to hear you say that." And on being 
 asked by the general why he was sorry, Mr. Trenholm 
 told him that it was because he now realized that it would 
 be useless for him to hope to be set free, for he said to the 
 general, "If you had any intention to free me without the 
 payment of money, you would never have had me arrested, 
 and as I regard it as disgraceful to offer a bribe as to accept 
 one, I do not propose to part with a cent for the purpose 
 of obtaining my freedom!" The general touched a bell, 
 the door was opened, an orderly saluted, and the general 
 commanded that the guard appear, and Mr. Trenholm 
 was returned to the jail — but not in a carriage. A cor- 
 poral's guard of negro soldiers marched him there. 
 
 My permit to visit Mr. Trenholm still held good and I 
 went to the jail every day and several times saw Mrs. 
 King there — the gay and debonnaire Mrs. King, sitting 
 on the dirty straw softly crying while the courtly old pris- 
 oner tried to comfort her. One would have imagined that 
 it was the woman who was held in durance vile instead 
 of her tall and stately trustee with his handsome face and 
 white hair. I was not allowed to take anything into the 
 jail for my friend, but Mrs. King was "a duchess who could 
 do as she chooses," and took him many little comforts. 
 
 After Mr. Trenholm had been in jail for several days I 
 was informed that he was to be sent to Hilton Head on 
 Port Royal, where there was a large garrison stationed at 
 the time. One of my naval officer friends kindly interested 
 himself and got me a permit to go to Hilton Head on the 
 same boat that was to take Mr. Trenholm there. I did not 
 trust myself to go to the jail on -the day of his departure, 
 but went on board of the boat and waited for him there. 
 When he appeared he was as usual surrounded by his negro 
 
General Gillmore, U.S.A. 251 
 
 guard. This was an intentional humiliation, as there were 
 large numbers of white soldiers in Charleston, and in addi- 
 tion to the negroes a company of whites was stationed at 
 the jail. When the boat started, Mr. Trenholm was al- 
 lowed to sit on a bench on the upper deck and I was per- 
 mitted to take a seat beside him, and the moment I did so 
 a negro soldier seated himself on the other side of him. 
 
 Arriving at Hilton Head we waited on the boat for some 
 little time while an officer went ashore, probably to find 
 out what disposition was to be made of his prisoner, for 
 as soon as he returned he ordered Mr. Trenholm to be 
 brought ashore, and then accompanied by the guard we 
 marched to a neat-looking cottage occupied by General 
 Gillmore as his headquarters. As we halted in front of the 
 cottage a splendid, soldierly-looking man, came out, and 
 extending both hands to Mr. Trenholm, exclaimed, "My 
 dear sir, I am distressed to see you in this position. What 
 can have brought you here?" Mr. Trenholm explained and 
 added that he regretted very much that their very pleasant 
 acquaintance of some years past, when General Gillmore 
 had been stationed at Charleston, should be renewed 
 under, to him, such humiliating circumstances. General 
 Gillmore ordered the guard dismissed and invited the 
 prisoner into his house where he offered us refreshments. 
 
 As near as I can remember. General Gillmore said to 
 Mr. Trenholm: "I can see no reason for your arrest at this 
 time. You could not escape even if you wanted to. You 
 had better go back to your home. The boat you came on 
 returns within the hour. You had better, however, give 
 me your written parole that you will come back whenever 
 I send for you." In less than an hour we were on our way 
 home, free men, and without a guard ! 
 
 General Gillmore's courtesy and consideration for an ante- 
 helium friend cost him 'dear. The general in command 
 at Charleston resented his action in freeing Mr. Trenholm, 
 and reported the matter to Washington, with the result 
 
252 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 that General Gillmore was relieved of the command at 
 Hilton Head, and the sequel of his kind action was hardly 
 less serious for Mr. Trenholm, as he had hardly got home 
 before an order came from Washington to rearrest him and 
 imprison him in Fort Pulaski below Savannah, Georgia. 
 
CHAPTER XXIX 
 
 Mr. Trenholm and others of Mr. Davis's Cabinet imprisoned in Fort Pulaski 
 — I make a hurried trip to New Orleans to engage counsel — I get married — 
 Study (?) law — General Daniel E. Sickles orders Mr. Trenholm's home re- 
 turned to him — I become a widower — Yellow fever saves me from being on 
 board of the fated Evening Star. 
 
 I WAS not allowed to accompany Mr. Trenholm to Fort 
 Pulaski. The after effects of his release were no less unfor- 
 tunate for the other members of President Davis's Cabi- 
 net than they were for himself. They were all, with the 
 exception of Mr. Benjamin and General Breckinridge, who 
 had made good their escape, at once arrested and sent to 
 Fort Pulaski. A rumor spread amongst us that they were 
 to be tried on the charge of high treason, and Mr, Tren- 
 holm's family thought it advisable that I should make an 
 effort to see him and find out his wishes as to retaining 
 counsel to defend him at the trial which we all believed to 
 be imminent. My only hope of getting a permit to visit 
 the fort lay in the persuasive powers of Mrs. King, who 
 said, of course, she could obtain one for me, and she did. 
 When I entered the casemate where these elderly and dis- 
 tinguished men were confined, it was a sad sight, indeed. 
 Their only apparent comforts were the cots on which they 
 sat in the daytime and slept at night. The tide ebbed and 
 flowed under the floor of their apartment, and through 
 the spaces between the planks I could see the water at high 
 tide and the muddy bottom at low, and the stench from 
 the mud was most unpleasant. 
 
 I consulted with Mr. Trenholm, and he directed me to 
 go to New York as quickly as possible and retain the serv- 
 ices of Mr. William M. Evarts, one of the most distin- 
 guished lawyers of that time, and then to proceed to New 
 Orleans and engage my elder brother. Judge P. H. Morgan 
 (who was a Union man), for the same purpose. 
 
254 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 The railroads throughout the South had been so torn 
 up by the Union armies that to go from Charleston to New 
 Orleans it was necessary first to go by sea to New York 
 and then either take a steamer for New Orleans, or else 
 go by rail to St. Louis, Missouri, and there take a river 
 steamboat and go down the Mississippi, a long and tedious 
 trip, and a most uninteresting one, for of all the great rivers 
 in the world the scenery of the lower Mississippi is prob- 
 ably the most monotonous. 
 
 Arriving at New Orleans, I found my mother and two 
 unmarried sisters at my brother's house. These latter had 
 suffered much from privation and want in the Confederacy, 
 and were now suffering more mentally on account of the 
 attitude of their former friends, who, despite the fact that 
 two of our brothers had given their lives to the Southern 
 cause, and that I had served "from the crack of the first 
 gun to the end of the war," shunned them as though they 
 were unclean because they had taken refuge from star- 
 vation in the house of a brother who was a Union man. 
 A notable exception, however, was the devoted friendship 
 shown them by the Misses Ada and Marie Pierce, who 
 were, not only in my opinion, but in that of the public 
 generally, the two most beautiful girls that New Orleans 
 could boast of. I suppose that this generation cannot 
 understand such a state of feeling, and really it was for 
 the most part indulged in by people whose male relatives 
 had funked going into the Confederate Army and whose 
 women-folks had suffered no inconvenience and had lost 
 nothing. Their extreme patriotism did not extend that far. 
 
 I remained only a few days in New Orleans and returned 
 to New York on the same ship which had brought me 
 there a week previously. I was accompanied by my brother 
 and my sister Sarah. Leaving Judge Morgan in New York, 
 my sister and I continued on our journey to Columbia, 
 South Carolina, where we found the Trenholm family 
 still in the greatest distress on account of Mr. Trenholm's 
 
I GET MARRIED 255 
 
 imprisonment in Fort Pulaski and the uncertainty as to 
 what his fate was to be. I overheard a "truly loyal man'* 
 say that "if the United States Government did not hang 
 Jeff Davis's Cabinet soon, the chills and fever would shake 
 the life out of them before a rope could be placed around 
 their necks." When this kindly gentleman was asked how 
 the prisoners spent their time, he replied, "By watching 
 the ' fiddler ' crabs through the chinks of the floor as they 
 crawled over the mud and slime when the tide was out, and 
 twiddling their thumbs when it was in." 
 
 There was a very influential party in the North which 
 clamored for the hanging of Jefferson Davis and his Cabi- 
 net and a carpetbag United States district attorney even 
 went so far as to issue a warrant for the arrest of General 
 Lee, but General Grant here stepped in and caused the 
 warrant to be quashed. Mr. Trenholm's lawyers could 
 do nothing for him, as President Johnson declined to dis- 
 cuss his case with them, but the Reverend A. Toomer 
 Porter, rector of the Church of the Holy Communion, 
 which Mr. Trenholm attended when at home in Charles- 
 ton, went to Washington and persuaded the President to 
 grant him a pardon. One of Mr. Trenholm's lawyers, a 
 Mr. Campbell, of Charleston, sued Mr. Trenholm for a 
 fee for his services in obtaining the pardon, and although 
 the President of the United States stated that he had re- 
 fused to discuss the matter with Mr. Campbell, the jury 
 gave a verdict in the latter's favor for fifty thousand dol- 
 lars. There were some queer juries in the South in those 
 unsettled times, and one of the jurymen in this case was 
 heard to say that Mr. Trenholm was a rich 'man and it 
 served him right, as it was a good thing to put some of the 
 thousands of dollars he had made in blockade-running into 
 circulation. Mr. Trenholm was pardoned in September, 
 1865, and I was married in October, and at once went 
 to New Orleans via New York and St. Louis. 
 
 Not appreciating the handicap of my defective educa- 
 
256 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 tion and the fact that the life I had led since I was fifteen 
 years of age was not conducive to preparing me for any of 
 the learned professions, I decided to enter Judge Morgan's 
 office, matriculate at the University of Louisiana, and study 
 law. My cousin H. Gibbes Morgan was a student in the 
 office, and I was very fond of him, and that made the pros- 
 pect all the more pleasing. But try as I would I could not 
 concentrate my mind on those dry law books or atten- 
 tively listen to the lectures which were given by distin- 
 guished civil-law lawyers; and besides. New Orleans was 
 very gay at that time, as there was plenty of Northern 
 money there, and planters could still borrow on mort- 
 gages at ten and twelve per cent. The city was under mili- 
 tary government, and it was only later when the Recon- 
 struction policy turned the State over to the carpetbaggers 
 and negroes that the natives began to feel the real pinch 
 of poverty. I must confess that dinners at Victor's and 
 Moreau's, in the city, and at old Jules Coch^'s restaurant 
 on the Lake Ponchartrain shore, appealed to me more than 
 did the Code Civil, Justinian, or Blackstone. Then, too, 
 I had a fast trotting horse whose health and speed required 
 a great deal of exercise on the shell road extending from 
 the city to the lake — needless to say the horse got it. But 
 oh, those dreary hours spent in that office while Gibbes 
 Morgan worked, and my brother in the back room wrote 
 briefs. I would sit in a sort of stupor blankly gazing at a 
 law book while I whistled the air of a popular song of the 
 day called "Beautiful Dreamer out on the Sea," which 
 scandalized the serious judge and almost drove him frantic. 
 My brother had been elevated to the bench when he was 
 only twenty-six and he regarded the study of the law as a 
 serious proposition not to be whistled down the wind. In 
 that law class there was a young man by the name of Ed- 
 ward D. White, who afterwards became Chief Justice of 
 the Supreme Court of the United States, and that was as 
 near as I ever came to a great lawyer. 
 
Yellow Fever 257 
 
 While I was in New Orleans General Daniel E. Sickles, 
 U.S.A., was placed in command of the Department of 
 South Carolina with headquarters in Charleston. Mr. 
 Trenholm having some business with him one day. Gen- 
 eral Sickles told him that he had much admired his beau- 
 tiful home on Rutledge Avenue, and asked Mr. Trenholm 
 why he did not live in it, and seemed very much surprised 
 when Mr. Trenholm told him that it had been seized when 
 Charleston was captured and had been used ever since for 
 a negro school. General Sickles said he would very soon 
 fix that matter, and summoning an officer he ordered him 
 at once to turn the negroes out of Mr. Trenholm's house 
 and turn the property over to him. The people of Charles- 
 ton took great offense at General Sickles driving a coach 
 and four, as in their poverty they resented this show of 
 affluence, but they lived to see the day when they regretted 
 General Sickles's removal from the command, as his suc- 
 cessor made life for them very unpleasant. 
 
 When I returned with my wife to Charleston in the 
 spring of 1866 we found Mr. Trenholm and his family com- 
 fortably established in their beautiful home, and all went 
 well until the month of September, when a little girl was 
 born; and ten days afterwards my wife died of the fever 
 which was then prevalent in Charleston, and I was left a 
 widower and not yet twenty-one years of age. 
 
 I wrote to New York and engaged passage in the ship 
 Evening Star for New Orleans and proceeded to New York 
 myself by the next steamer. Arriving in New York I went 
 directly to that paradise of Southerners, the old New York 
 Hotel on Broadway. I went to my room and at once was 
 taken very ill. I must have had the seeds of yellow fever 
 in my system and the change to a cooler climate must have 
 developed the disease. I must have been unconscious or 
 out of my head for some thirty-six hours when, fortunately 
 for me, Dr. John T. Metcalf, an eminent physician, called 
 at the hotel, and glancing over the register saw my name 
 
258 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 and sent up his card. The bellboy returned and said that 
 there was some one in the room moaning, but that he would 
 not open the door. Dr. Metcalf was an intimate friend of 
 Judge Morgan, and he insisted that the door should be 
 forced. Seeing my condition at a glance, he had me wrapped 
 in blankets and carried to his waiting carriage and took 
 me to his home, then on Fourteenth Street, where he 
 nursed me back to life. While I was ill at his house the ill- 
 fated Evening Star left for New Orleans with several hun- 
 dred passengers on board, including three or four theatri- 
 cal troupes, and she went down off Tybee Island on the 
 coast of Georgia and only two men and one woman in a 
 small open boat were saved. 
 
 When I had sufficiently recovered, I took passage for 
 New Orleans in the steamer Merrimac and found among 
 my fellow passengers the family of Mr. John Watt, who 
 were taking with them to New Orleans Miss Ada Pierce, a 
 very dear friend of my sisters. My meeting with Mr. Watt 
 was somewhat embarrassing, as less than three years before, 
 when in the cruiser Georgia, I had captured off Cape Town 
 the fine sailing ship John Watt, named for him and in which 
 he was largely interested. 
 
CHAPTER XXX 
 
 Try cotton-planting with the usual sailor's success — Better success following 
 the hounds — Charles Astor Bristed; "Man is a gregarious animal" — 
 Drayton Hall — Discovery of the phosphate rocks — Visit Philadelphia — Go 
 on the New York Yacht Club cruise — General McClellan — General W. S. 
 Hancock views the yacht race. 
 
 Arriving in New Orleans I tried to resume the study of 
 the law, but met with rather worse than indifferent success. 
 A proposition from two gentlemen who had married cousins 
 of mine, that I should furnish the money and join with them 
 in planting the old "Hope Estate" plantation, where so 
 many happy days of my boyhood had been passed, appealed 
 to me strongly. There are few naval officers who do not 
 imagine that if they only had a small farm they could make 
 their fortunes, and I was no exception to the rule; and yet it 
 is a strange fact that most sailors commenced life as farm 
 boys. There is an old story in the navy about a sailor on the 
 "lookout" during a storm, who, being lashed to the fore- 
 stay to keep him from being washed overboard, when a big 
 sea swept over him was heard to exclaim, in the stillness of 
 the mid watch, after a mountain of water had passed over 
 his head, "And to think, by gum, I sold a farm to go to sea ! " 
 
 Well, on the rich sugar land our cotton plants grew beauti- 
 fully. I looked over the immense field one afternoon and 
 the cotton blooms, red, white, yellow, and blue, gave it the 
 appearance of a garden of flowers. I gazed on that same 
 field the next morning, and as far as the eye could reach 
 there was nothing to be seen but leafless and bare bushes. 
 The army worm had got in his fine work of destruction over- 
 night. 
 
 I returned to Charleston and made my home with my 
 young brother-in-law, Frank Trenholm, who at the age of 
 sixteen had been an aide on the staff of General Beauregard. 
 He afterwards served on the staff of General D. H. Hill, 
 
26o Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 and also as aide-de-camp to General States Rights Gist 
 who, when shot at the battle of Franklin, died in his arms. 
 I believe seventeen Confederate generals were killed in that 
 bloody fight. 
 
 Colonel Alfred Rhett had a pack of hounds — he was no 
 less famous as a sportsman than he was as a duelist. He and 
 his brother, Major Burnett Rhett, were tireless fox-hunters 
 and often the colonel and Frank Trenholm would join their 
 packs so as to have a fuller cry, and many a glorious run we 
 had behind them. In those days one could get up a fox any 
 time within four miles of the city, and we frequently jumped 
 up a deer within six or seven miles from the Town Hall. 
 The men were superb horsemen and many a marvelous feat 
 of horsemanship I saw performed during those hunts. 
 
 It would be difficult for this generation to understand the 
 mental attitude of the people of South Carolina when under 
 military government and afterwards while under the hor- 
 rible orgy of crime called the "carpetbag government." 
 Atlanta, Norfolk, and Savannah had welcomed Northern 
 capitalists and they were prospering by leaps and bounds, 
 but Charleston would have nothing to do with those whom 
 they called "Northern vandals," and the consequence was 
 that Charleston remained dead. All weapons had (sup- 
 posedly) been taken away from the people, save one, and 
 that one the Charlestonian knew how to use with most 
 extraordinary effect. It was the right to ostracize the 
 stranger, and the native who gave him countenance. One 
 instance of the deadly effect of the use of this social weapon 
 made an impression on me. It was that of the case of Mr. 
 Charles Astor Bristed, a grandson of the first John Jacob 
 Astor. Mr. Bristed was a man of great wealth, and of lit- 
 erary tastes ; he was refined to the tips of his fingers, and of 
 course in New York moved in the most select of the inner 
 circle of society. He was in bad health and had been advised 
 to seek the mild winter climate of Charleston. He brought 
 with him letters of introduction to several prominent people 
 
Charles Astor Bristed 261 
 
 in Charleston, among them Mr. Trenholm. On his arrival 
 he was delighted with the air and the quaint beauty of the 
 place and at once bought a pretty home on the "South 
 Battery" facing the Ashley River. He confided to Mr. 
 Trenholm that he had large sums of money lying idle in 
 New York banks and made inquiry as to what rates of 
 interest could be had for it in Charleston. He was amazed 
 when Mr. Trenholm told him that he could place it on 
 absolutely safe security for ten or twelve per cent, but that 
 Heaven only knew what rate he could get for it if he felt 
 disposed to take any chances. He asked Mr. Trenholm to 
 place the amount (according to my recollection it was some 
 two or three hundred thousand dollars) for him. After 
 several months' sojourn he one day went into Mr. Tren- 
 holm's counting-house and asked him to sell out his securi- 
 ties and his residence, and when Mr. Trenholm expressed 
 surprise, Mr. Bristed told him that "man was a gregarious 
 animal and it was necessary to his happiness that he should 
 hold communication with other human beings." He per- 
 sonally thanked Mr. Trenholm for the courtesy he had 
 shown him, adding, "You and young Morgan are the only 
 two gentlemen who have darkened my door in all the months 
 I have been here" — and Mr. Bristed and his money left 
 Charleston, to be seen there no more. 
 
 In those days the family connection unto the fortieth 
 remove was considered a sacred relation and that was the 
 reason some of the Southern clans were so powerful — nous 
 avons change tout cela. My grandfather's sister, Anne 
 Morgan, had married Mr. Thomas Stanyarn Gibbes, of 
 South Carolina, and one of her granddaughters, Miss 
 Augusta Gibbes, of New York, had married the second John 
 Jacob Astor, and that was sufficient reason, besides Mr. 
 Bristed's agreeable personality, for me to show him what 
 little attention was within my power. 
 
 In connection with the Charlestonian*s repugnance to 
 being brought into contact with Northern people, it should 
 
262 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 be remembered how cruelly they had suffered and that their 
 hardships were far from being over, and that they were a 
 proud people who were willing to endure poverty in silence, 
 but they did not care to have strangers see the many shifts 
 they were forced to resort to in the privacy of their homes, 
 while they carried their heads so high and presented such 
 a bold front before the rest of the world. 
 
 We rarely know what is best for us in this world, and the 
 helpless people chafed under martial law and called their 
 soldier rulers "military satraps"; but these men did not 
 pillage the State as did that robber crew who came into 
 power when the so-called civil government was established 
 under the Reconstruction laws which so nearly caused the 
 destruction of the Commonwealth. Besides, the regular sol- 
 diery made the evilly disposed negroes behave themselves. 
 The , blacks had not generally as yet fully realized their 
 changed estate and as a people behaved fairly well until the 
 carpetbagger arrived. 
 
 Early vegetables for the Northern market as a means of 
 recouping Southern fortunes was becoming a burning ques- 
 tion, and I espoused the cause enthusiastically, and selected 
 one of Mr. Trenholm's plantations on the Ashley River, 
 about ten miles above Charleston, for the scene of my 
 operations. I made a crop of potatoes all right, and shipped 
 them to New York, and what I got for them was a bill from 
 the middleman for expenses incurred in having them carried 
 to the dump. But there were plenty of deer, foxes, wild 
 cats, wild turkeys, and quail in the neighborhood and I had 
 plenty of sport. My m6nage at Vaucluse (the name of the 
 plantation) was not a very luxurious one. I fitted up a two- 
 room shanty, one room serving me as bedroom, sitting- 
 room, and dining-room, and the other as a kitchen. I had 
 an old negro woman to cook for me and a rascally boy 
 named Philip to wait on me. 
 
 There had once been stately colonial mansions on these 
 plantations along the banks of the Ashley River, many of 
 
Discovery of the Phosphate Rocks 263 
 
 them built with brick brought from England, but only 
 Drayton Hall remained standing at the time I was there. 
 When Charleston fell, gunboats came up the river and 
 wantonly knocked down one after the other of these splen- 
 did residences. When the Drayton family heard the cannon 
 they were at dinner and rushed out of the house, thinking 
 that it would soon be tumbling on their heads. None of 
 them returned to it for six months or more. When the gun- 
 boat stopped in front of Drayton Hall, the old negro butler, 
 a man whose first name was Jack, and who had always been 
 a slave of the Dray tons, got into a log canoe and paddled 
 out to the warship and implored the captain not to destroy 
 Admiral Drayton's house; and the officer, not wishing to get 
 into trouble with an admiral, spared it. Jack knew as much 
 about the Drayton genealogy as did any member of the 
 family; and he knew perfectly well that Admiral Drayton, 
 although belonging to the same family, did not own a brick 
 in the building. This Admiral Drayton was with the United 
 States fleet at the battle of Port Royal where his brother 
 General Drayton commanded the Southern forts. 
 
 Although at Drayton Hall and the neighboring planta- 
 tions there were hundreds of negroes, and not a single white 
 man nearer than Charleston, when the Drayton family re- 
 turned after an absence of several months they found their 
 silver and other property untouched. The dishes and plates 
 with the viands and vegetables on them, now thoroughly 
 dried, stood where they had been left when the family fled 
 from what they regarded as a doomed building. 
 
 It was while I was at Drayton Hall that Professor Francis 
 Holmes, a geologist, and a brother of Mrs. George A. 
 Trenholm, showed Dr. Pratt, a chemist, a deposit of phos- 
 phate rock on his plantation, about three miles below 
 Drayton Hall. Dr. Pratt already knew the value of the 
 material, having made an analysis of a sample picked up at 
 some other place. It was due to this discovery that I had 
 the pleasure of becoming acquainted with Mr. George T. 
 
264 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 Lewis, Mr. Samuel Grant, Mr. Fisher, and several other 
 gentlemen from Philadelphia who came to Drayton Hall, 
 as it was the only decent habitation in that part of the 
 country. It did not take these gentlemen long to look over 
 the field and buy up thousands of acres. 
 
 When I visited Philadelphia afterwards these gentlemen 
 and their families showed me the greatest hospitality. A 
 number of them had beautiful country places at Torresdale 
 on the Delaware River, and many were the happy days I 
 spent there. 
 
 Mr. Charles Macallister, Jr., invited me to accompany 
 him on the cruise of the New York Yacht Squadron. His 
 yacht, the Scud, was the smallest schooner in the fleet and 
 in dimensions a veritable toy boat. Her crew consisted of a 
 sailing master and two men before the mast. Macallister 
 usually took her to New York via the canal, but on a dare, 
 Macallister and I took her down the river, through Dela- 
 ware Bay, and passing Cape May put boldly out into the 
 Atlantic and headed for New York. The Scud had a centre- 
 board and an open cockpit, and she was not very weatherly 
 even for so small a boat. Off Bamegat Light there came on 
 a moderate gale of wind and the cockpit was the cause of 
 our very nearly foundering, as occasionally a sea would 
 come over and fill it, almost waterlogging the little craft 
 and rendering it necessary for us to spend all of one night 
 bailing it out with buckets. But we reached port all right 
 and spent several pleasant days in New York before joining 
 the squadron. 
 
 While at New York Mr. Macallister met General George 
 B. McClellan, an intimate friend of his father, and invited 
 him to go for a sail up the Sound. I found the general to be 
 a most affable companion, and when he learned that I had 
 been a witness of the battles of Seven Pines (Fair Oaks) and 
 of the Seven Days, he seemed to take an interest in me. 
 Mr. Macallister told him about a cartoon I had seen in a 
 Richmond paper in 1862 representing the general at Harri- 
 
General Hancock views Yacht Race 265 
 
 son*s Landing, embracing a sailor, and saying, "Jack, a 
 gunboat is a glorious institution — there ought to be one in 
 every family ! " The general laughed most heartily over this 
 story. We brought the general safely back to New York, 
 and the next day sailed for Glencove on the Sound, where 
 we joined the yacht squadron. There were some twenty-five 
 or thirty yachts anchored there and the only steamer in the 
 fleet was the flagship. What a difference from to-day (1916) 
 when hundreds of yachts assemble on these occasions and 
 the majority of them are steamers or power boats! 
 
 At Newport there were the usual yacht races, and Gen- 
 eral Winfield S. Hancock, U.S.A., consented to accept Mr. 
 Macallister's invitation to go out on the Scud to witness the 
 finish of the principal contest of the big yachts to Block 
 Island and back, but only on the condition that the Scud 
 was to carry the least possible amount of sail. For a little 
 while I thought the general was timorous on the water, but 
 when we saw the Dauntless, Phantom, Vesta, Fleetwind, and 
 the other big schooners of that day coming back, and gain- 
 ing on us, as we steered for port, the general became very 
 enthusiastic and insisted that we should set every stitch of 
 canvas there was on the boat rather than be passed. 
 
CHAPTER XXXI 
 
 Receive a commission as captain in the Egyptian Army — Hurried trip to 
 Egypt with nineteen other ex-Union and Confederate officers — Alexandria — 
 Call an Oriental bluff — Cause small panic in hotel by opening windows during 
 the "kempsine" — In uniform — Presented to the Khedive — American offi- 
 cers in Khedive's army — Letters of President Davis and General R. E. Lee. 
 
 In 1869, General W. T. Sherman, U.S.A., visited Egypt, 
 and the then Khedive, Ismail Pasha, gave him a most cor- 
 dial reception, making him many handsome presents, 
 among them diamonds of such value for his daughter that it 
 puzzled the poor general for some years to raise the neces- 
 sary amount which a grateful government demanded for the 
 custom-house dues charged upon them. The Khedive took 
 General Sherman into his confidence and told him of some 
 of his troubles. He complained of the ne;cessity his French 
 officers were under to consult the Imperial Government 
 at Paris before they could obey his orders. He asked 
 General Sherman if it would be possible for him to get 
 American officers who had so recently (at that time) been 
 engaged in actual war. The result of the conference was that 
 it was decided to ship the French officers home and send for 
 twenty Americans, ten from the Northern army, and ten 
 Southerners. I was fortunate enough to be offered one of 
 the commissions. 
 
 It was the common rumor at that time that the Khedive 
 intended to attempt to throw off the yoke of his nominal 
 master, the Sultan of Turkey, to whom he had to pay a 
 heavy tribute. Naturally w^e American officers were anxious 
 to get to Egypt before the anticipated fray began, so we 
 hurried on board of an Inman Line steamer, the City of 
 Washington. For those days the liner was a very fine and 
 large ship of nearly four thousand tons. She was full ship 
 rigged and very fast. It took us only twelve days to make 
 the passage to Liverpool, in which city we spent three hours 
 
^ F' *a' 
 
 LIEUTENANT-COLONEL MORGAN 
 
 Egyptian Army, 1S70 
 
Alexandria 267 
 
 waiting for a train for London. In London we lingered for 
 an hour before starting for Paris. In Paris we stayed four 
 hours and then took a train for Brindisi, Italy. We crossed 
 Mont Cenis on a railroad built with three lines of rails, the 
 centre rail being cogged, and a cog wheel on our engine 
 fitted into the cogs and thus pulled us up the steep inclines. 
 (My great-uncle, Dr. John Morgan, has left an account in 
 his journal of how he crossed the same mountain in 1763 on 
 muleback for part of the way and was carried in a sedan 
 chair the rest.) We stopped in Brindisi for only five hours 
 while waiting for the Austrian mail steamer from Trieste 
 bound for Alexandria, Egypt, where we arrived seventeen 
 days from the time we left New York. 
 
 In Alexandria we were surprised to find no preparations 
 for war. Nobody was talking about war, or thinking about 
 it either, and I must confess our advent did not arouse any 
 enthusiasm that I could detect. The first good advice given 
 us was to discard instantly our hats and replace them with 
 the tarboosh, or red fez, before we sat down at a meal, as it 
 was as much an offense to uncover the head in the presence 
 of a Moslem as it would be to sit at table with one's hat on 
 in a company of Christians. 
 
 No one had received us at Alexandria, and we were at a 
 loss to know whom we were expected to report to, or where 
 we were to go. The day after our arrival, however, we re- 
 ceived a summons to appear before one of the many "AH 
 Beys" who throng the land of the true believer, and of 
 course we at once jumped to the conclusion that he must be 
 a very high official of the greatest importance. We were 
 conducted to his house and shown into a tiny garden where 
 we were left standing while the great man put us through 
 the favorite stunt of "heel-cooling," in which species of 
 mild torture the Mexican himself cannot surpass the Ori- 
 ental — in fact the Mexican learned it from the Spaniard, 
 who was taught by the Moor, who in turn acquired it from 
 the Arab. We were kept standing there until one of the 
 
268 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 party became so weary, that, supposing none of the serv- 
 ants could understand English, he exclaimed that he 
 "would be something or othered if he would stand for an- 
 other minute"; almost instantly the supposed great man 
 appeared among us as though by magic. He was haughty 
 and seemed displeased. Having sufficiently impressed us 
 with his superiority, he magnanimously ordered chairs, 
 coffee, and chibouks, and waved his hand in a manner we 
 understood to mean that we were to be seated. He opened 
 the pour-parler by telling us that we might as well under- 
 stand in the beginning that there were too many of us, and 
 that those whom he decided to retain would have to agree 
 to a reduction of one or two grades, as the grades we had 
 "assumed" were preposterous. The conversation was car- 
 ried on in French, and pointing to me he demanded to know 
 how old I was. On being told that I was twenty-four, and 
 on being informed that I aspired to hold a commission as 
 captain of heavy artillery, he could contain himself no longer 
 and gave way to laughter. He asked what pay I expected to 
 receive and was shocked to hear that my contract called for 
 the same pay and emoluments as those received by the same 
 grade in the United States Army, and when told what they 
 were he almost burst with indignation, saying that no colonel 
 in the Egyptian Army received such an enormous sum for 
 his services. I also was beginning to feel "peeved," and 
 drawing myself up said in English to my companions that I 
 was going to take the first train to Cairo for the purpose of 
 finding out who was responsible for the practical joke which 
 had brought me seven thousand miles from home to be in- 
 sulted, and when I found the man, I was either going to get 
 satisfaction, or that I was going to horsewhip him publicly! 
 I know that this sort of talk would be considered awfully 
 bad form in these days (191 6), but I lived in another cen- 
 tury — autres jours, autres mceurs. 
 
 One is never safe in supposing that an Oriental does not 
 understand a foreign language. It is a common trick of 
 
Call an Oriental Bluff 269 
 
 theirs to pretend not to be able to speak any but their own 
 lingo. The bey changed his attitude instantly, and told 
 General Stone that he hoped the general understood that 
 what he, the bey, had said was merely tentative, and an 
 expression only of his own opinion, and that he hoped the 
 matter would go no further, etc. He then informed us that 
 he would send a man to show us to the railway station where 
 we would be provided with transportation to Cairo. 
 
 When we left the garden I feared that General Stone was 
 going to give me a reprimand, but instead, as the gates 
 closed behind us, he burst out laughing and said, " Morgan, 
 that was about as pretty a call-down of a bluff as it ever 
 was my good fortune to witness. ' ' We afterwards discovered 
 that "Ali Bey" was a subordinate official of the railway 
 department, and had simply been "ordered to furnish us 
 with transportation, and to show us every attention^'; and 
 that he spoke English as well as any of us, and had I not 
 called the bluff he would have tormented us for an hour 
 longer. 
 
 It was about nine o'clock at night when we reached Cairo 
 and we at once went to the Hotel Oriental located on the 
 Ezbekiah, the great public square. We were all tired and 
 asked to be shown our rooms at once. 
 
 The Egyptians keep their houses closed in the daytime 
 to keep out the heat in the same manner that people of 
 Northern climes keep out the cold, but in the evening the 
 doors and windows are opened until daylight when the cool 
 air of the night is confined in the house. This is the rule 
 except when the "kempsine," called so because it blows for 
 fifty days, is in season. This wind is a species of sirocco 
 which comes from the desert laden with fine particles of hot 
 sand which gets into the eyes, nostrils, and throat, causing 
 great discomfort. The kempsine was blowing when we ar- 
 rived, but we knew nothing of it. In the middle of the night 
 I awoke with a parched throat and would have given any- 
 thing for a little ice water, but ice was a rare luxury at that 
 
270 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 time in Egypt, and not furnished by the hotels : their water 
 was cooled by evaporation in clay "monkeys." I felt that 
 I must at least have a breath of fresh air, so I got up and 
 went into the hall w^ere I discovered to my great amaze- 
 ment that the windows were all not only closed, but also had 
 weather strips more completely to keep out the air. A bril- 
 liant idea struck me that this condition accounted for the 
 suffocating atmosphere in the building and I proceeded to 
 open every window I could find, — and then, proud of my 
 work, returned to my room. In about fifteen minutes there 
 was an uproar in the house. Men were excitedly calling 
 down maledictions on the head of the person who had 
 opened the windows. I understood plainly the feelings of 
 the man who exclaimed, "God damn!" — also the fellow 
 who hissed, " Sacr6 nom d'un petit bonhomme"; " Sabre 
 de bois " ; " Pistolet de paille " ; " Baton parasol " — which, 
 to a man who understood the languages, meant the same 
 thing. But it is always the unknown that is most dreaded, 
 and it was enough to make one's blood curdle to hear the 
 guttural anathemas of the Arabs, Albanians, Armenians, 
 Greeks, Syrians, Turks, Russians, Italians, and represen- 
 tatives of a few other nationalities who patronized that 
 hostelry. Their oaths, I imagine, were something terrible. 
 I never confessed to being the culprit — it was useless, as I 
 had already heard the opinions of the British and French, 
 and I could not speak the other Janguages, so it would have 
 been unfair to confide my secret to only two nationalities. 
 
 The next morning, early, a tailor arrived with orders to 
 take our measures for uniforms as the "Effendina" ("lord 
 of lords") wished us to be in uniform when presented, and 
 he did not wish to be kept waiting — and he was not. It 
 was not conducive to long life for a subject to keep Ismail 
 Pasha waiting. 
 
 The undress uniform was single-breasted and had nine 
 black buttons down the front, an exact reproduction of the 
 coat of a Presbyterian parson. The full dress was as gorge- 
 
Presented to the Khedive 271 
 
 ous as the undress was simple. A blue coat with gold epau- 
 lettes, gold chevrons on the arms, indicating the rank, gold 
 aiguillettes, and gold sword belt. The trousers were of the 
 reddest red imaginable, with a gold stripe running down the 
 legs at least two inches wide. The saddle-cloths were em- 
 broidered with gold flowers. Of course on our heads we 
 wore the red tarboosh with its long black tassel. When I 
 rode down the street I looked so much like a streak of light- 
 ning that one would have been justified in listening for 
 thunder after I had passed by, and that, too, in a country 
 where it never, or hardly ever, rained in those days. 
 
 The day for our presentation to His Highness arrived and 
 in full regalia we appeared at the Abdeen Palace where we 
 were drawn up in line, in front of the absolute despot. Ismail 
 Pasha, the Khedive, was a very short man and very rotund ; 
 he had a swarthy countenance as well as a very severe ex- 
 pression; his eyes were piercing and not at all kindly, yet 
 his manner was most courteous. He stood at one end of the 
 grand reception room, surrounded by his Cabinet and 
 courtiers. One at a time, according to rank, we were es- 
 corted by two officials to within a few feet of His High- 
 ness, where the officials as well as ourselves stopped and 
 made the salaam, in which we had been drilled for some days. 
 It consisted in bending the right knee and making a gesture 
 as though we were picking up dirt with the right hand and 
 touching our hearts, lips, and foreheads with it. This sa- 
 laam had been modified for the officers so that it made a 
 very graceful military salute. The Khedive returned each 
 salute with a similar but very much abbreviated one. He 
 spoke but a few kindly words to each one of us, and told us 
 that at some future time he would make occasion to talk 
 with us more fully. The Khedive, followed by the assembled 
 company, then led the way into another splendid apartment 
 where iced sherbet, coffee, and cigarettes were served, and 
 after the function was over we entered our carriages and re- 
 turned to the hotel. For several days we roamed about the 
 
2'] 2 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 ancient city seeing the sights, being warned to keep away 
 from the mosques until we became better acquainted with 
 the people or were accompanied by a native who could tell 
 them that we were under the special protection of the 
 EfTendina. Cairo had not yet become the stamping-ground 
 of tourists. Foreigners were curiosities, and the true be- 
 liever's hatred for the accursed Giaour, or " Christian dog," 
 was something that he was very proud of. A fanatic was 
 liable to make trouble at any moment. Talking about 
 Cairo reminds me that in those days I never met an Arab, 
 outside of the educated class, who had ever heard of such 
 a city; they call it "El Masr." 
 
 The American officers in the Egyptian Army while I was 
 there were Major-General Thaddeus P. Mott; Brigadier- 
 Generals Charles P. Stone, W. W. Loring, and Sibley ; Colo- 
 nels Reynolds, Rhett, Jenifer, Frank Reynolds, Purdy, 
 Vanderbilt Allen, Kennon, Ward, and Dunlap; Lieutenant- 
 Colonel Long; Majors Campbell, Mason, and Hunt; Captain 
 Paris, and one or two others. After I had been some time in 
 the Egyptian Army, Mr. Trenholm forwarded me the fol- 
 lowing letters, the originals of which are now in the Con- 
 federate Museum in Richmond : — 
 
 Memphis, Tenn., 2^l}l April, 1870. 
 
 J. M. Morgan. 
 
 My dear Sir: — 
 
 Since fortune decrees that you should seek in foreign service 
 a field for the exercise of your military talents, I am glad to know 
 that you have chosen the service of the Viceroy of Egypt. The 
 enlightened policy which has guided his administration, as it did 
 that of his illustrious father, renders his the most attractive 
 service which a foreigner could find. Your naval education and 
 experience in actual war will, I hope, secure you an early oppor- 
 tunity to make manifest the capacity of which your youth gave 
 promise, and to secure for you a name worthy of those from whom 
 you are descended. 
 
 With best wishes for your welfare and happiness, 
 
 I am very truly yours, 
 
 Jefferson Davis. 
 
Letter of General R. E. Lee 273 
 
 Savannah, Georgia, i8th April, 1870. 
 Mr. J. M. Morgan was an officer in the Confederate service 
 during the late war and served both on land and sea. So far as 
 my knowledge extends, he performed the duty assigned him satis- 
 factorily and deported himself in every respect as a gentleman. 
 
 R. E. Lee. 
 
CHAPTER XXXII 
 
 The Egyptian Army — Eunuchs important beings — Polyglots — Anecdote 
 (from court gossip) about the two Schnieders — Adventuresses — The per- 
 manent secretary — The bounding horse Napoleon — Did n't cut His High- 
 ness — Napoleon gets me in and out of trouble about being too fresh with a 
 Princess, a flower, and a dainty lace handkerchief — The Khedive orders a 
 wedding to amuse the Empress Eugenie — Divorce — Harems (pronounced 
 hareems). 
 
 The Egyptian Army consisted of some sixty thousand 
 men. The forts were in a dilapidated condition and mostly 
 manned only by caretakers, so I was glad to find that my 
 first duty was to be on the personal staff of the Khedive. 
 The staff was very large, and besides the military officers 
 there were six equerries in most gorgeous uniforms. I had 
 absolutely nothing to do and spent most of my leisure in lis- 
 tening to court gossip, sub rosa, of course. What astounded 
 me most amid my new surroundings was to find that the 
 eunuchs, whom I had always thought of as contemptible 
 creatures, were in reality beings of great importance, and 
 that some of them enjoyed the confidence of the ruler even 
 in state affairs, and that they were all treated with the 
 greatest deference by the highest officials. I was warned 
 on no account to offend one of them, as they had it in their 
 power to do harm to any one, no matter what his rank might 
 be, to whom they took a dislike. 
 
 In the evenings after the heat of the day, we Americans 
 would sit at little tables on the sidewalk in front of the 
 "circles," or clubs, of which there were several located on 
 the Ezbekiah, and pass the time drinking cooling drinks 
 and talking. We soon made many acquaintances and were 
 astounded to find amongst them so many men who could 
 converse in half a dozen or more languages; the Armenians 
 and Russians especially had this gift, and many were the 
 amusing stories and scandals these polyglots related to us 
 about court life. 
 
The Two Schnieders 275 
 
 There were very few European or American ladies in 
 Cairo at the time, and the Armenian, Syrian, and Greek 
 women lived very much the same secluded life as did the 
 native females, and like them never went abroad unless 
 veiled. This they did for their own protection against in- 
 sult, as no Moslem could understand that a woman with 
 her face uncovered could be respectable. 
 
 The Khedive maintained at his own expense a magnifi- 
 cent Italian opera house which he had built for the presenta- 
 tion of Verdi's "Aida," which was composed for him. He 
 also had an op6ra-boufTe company, and a French comedy 
 troupe, a hippodrome, and circus. For female society, with 
 a few exceptions, we were dependent upon the ladies on the 
 other side of the footlights. The Khedive was very fond of 
 the company of the stars of the theatres, and, in whispers, 
 a very amusing piece of gossip was told about one of his 
 experiences with a Madame d'Albert, prima donna of the 
 op6ra bouffe. Madame d'Albert was beautiful and sang 
 like a bird, but like most beauties she was capricious, and 
 when in one of those moods had not the slightest respect for 
 either royalty or stage managers. On one occasion the 
 Khedive and his courtiers were seated in the boxes when in 
 the middle of the opera something displeased the *'song 
 bird" and she refused to sing any more, so the curtain had 
 to be rung down. His Highness was furious and sent for the 
 manager of his theatres, a French doctor, who had become 
 Burguerre Bey, and swore by the beard of the Prophet that 
 he would no longer submit to D'Albert's whims, and 
 ordered Burguerre to telegraph the Rothschilds, who were 
 his financial agents in Paris, to send on at once Mademoi- 
 selle Schnieder, the most famous op6ra-bouffe prima donna 
 in Paris. Now it happened that at that time the Khedive 
 wanted a loan, and the Rothschilds were negotiating for it 
 through Baron Schnieder, a very old man, a banker, and the 
 president of the Imperial Senate. Burguerre Bey, never tak- 
 ing into account the possibility of there being two Schnied- 
 
276 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 ers, sent his telegram, which read, " Envoyez Schnieder coCite 
 qui coCite"; and the Rothschilds, not being theatrical 
 impresarios, took it for granted that the message related to 
 the loan, and against his protests, hurried the old banker 
 Schnieder off to Egypt. When he arrived at Alexandria a 
 harem carriage, escorted by a couple of royal eunuchs, was 
 waiting for him on the dock. He was hurriedly taken to the 
 railway station where a special train with one of the royal 
 coaches was waiting. He was whirled up to Cairo, placed 
 in another carriage and driven to a palace in the suburbs, 
 where he was received by more eunuchs and told that he 
 was immediately to take a bath. The old gentleman ob- 
 jected, but they told him it was the Effendina's orders. 
 After he was well boiled in the Turkish bath he was laid on 
 a couch in the recuperating room, and while there, probably 
 thinking of the comforts of home, who should appear, in 
 dressing-gown and slippers, but the Khedive himself ! See- 
 ing the old human derelict, the lord of lords threw up his 
 hands in amazement and exclaimed, "In the name of the 
 Prophet, what are you doing here?" and old Schnieder 
 replied, "God only knows!" Explanations followed. Old 
 Baron Schnieder secured the loan on his own terms, and 
 shortly afterwards the Khedive secured his song bird, and 
 all ended happily. 
 
 The Khedive was an admirer of European women, and 
 also lavish with his money. If he dropped his handkerchief 
 to one of them, and she picked it up, her fortune was made. 
 This became known in Europe, and before I left there many 
 were the beautiful adventuresses who came to Cairo seeking 
 their fortunes. 
 
 There was a little Italian by the name of Barro. He was 
 merely an adventurer, and a penniless one at that. He went 
 to Cairo and after looking over the situation disappeared 
 for a time. When he returned he was accompanied by a 
 wife, the most marvelously beautiful woman my eyes ever 
 beheld. Shortly after his return Barro was appointed pri- 
 
The Bounding Horse 2"^] 
 
 vate secretary to the Khedive and was made a bey. He 
 lodged in magnificent apartments and set up a carriage. 
 
 In the British departments of the Government there is 
 always an official who does not lose his job when there is a 
 change of political parties in power — he is called the "per- 
 manent secretary." The Khedive had many flames, but 
 Madame Barro seemed to occupy a position among them 
 similar to that of the British permanent secretary. 
 
 Concerning my own adventure, it is necessary to explain 
 that from my boyhood I had been an expert trick rider and 
 some of my feats caused even the Bedouins to take notice. 
 They rode with such short stirrups that it would have been 
 impossible for them to accomplish the same stunts. 
 
 When the Empress Eug6nie was the guest of the Khedive 
 on the occasion of the opening of the Suez Canal, among 
 many other beautiful gifts he presented her with a bay 
 Arab stallion. Now this color is unusual, as most Arab 
 horses are gray. The Empress was so encumbered with 
 presents that she left many of them in Egypt, and among 
 them the bay horse. From that time the horse was called 
 "Napoleon." The Khedive next presented him to General 
 Loring, who was an old cavalry officer and a fine horseman, 
 but General Loring had left an arm on the battle-field at 
 the storming of the Belen Gate when the City of Mexico 
 was captured by the American troops. The horse was a 
 plunger; he seemed to be on springs, and could bound into 
 the air and keep up his bounds like a bouncing ball for a 
 hundred yards or more without cessation, and at every 
 leap take all four feet clear of the ground to a height of four 
 or more feet. It is necessary to humor the mouth of a 
 plunger, and General Loring could only shorten his reins 
 by carrying them to his teeth, which Napoleon came near 
 jerking out the only time the general ever mounted him. 
 So Napoleon was passed on to me. I liked the bounding and 
 could send him up into the air whenever I pleased by simply 
 pressing him with my knees. 
 
278 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 One afternoon I was riding Napoleon beneath the gigan- 
 tic fig trees which line the sides of the beautiful Shubra 
 drive when I noticed quite a commotion among the throng 
 of people in carriages, on horseback, and on foot, who were 
 taking their recreation after the heat of the day was over. 
 The carriages and horsemen, as well as those on foot, stopped 
 and stood facing the road. Then I heard the sats yelling 
 their familiar cries of "Owa! Owa! Riglek! Eminak! Shu- 
 malak! " etc., which in English would mean " Clear the way! 
 Keep to the right ! Keep to the left ! Look out for your face ! 
 For here comes the lord of lords, your master!" etc. The 
 fellahs, or peasants, fell on their knees and placed their fore- 
 heads on the ground. The better classes went through the 
 motions of picking up dirt and touching their hearts, lips, 
 and foreheads. I apparently took no notice of who was 
 coming behind me and kept on my way unconcernedly. As 
 the dozen or more sats, stafT in hand, and the great white 
 sleeves of their costumes fluttering like wings behind them, 
 passed me with the speed of frightened deer, they furiously 
 called down maledictions on my head. Then, at the gallop, 
 came a troop of cavalry of the Life Guards, whose com- 
 manding officer seemed to fear that I intended to cut His 
 Highness and cautioned me as he went by. Next came the 
 royal equipage with four horses guided by postilions, and 
 on either side of the carriage rode an equerry. Men told 
 me afterwards that they had held their breath in awe for 
 the instant, as they wondered what would happen to the 
 man who apparently intended to cut the EfTendina in 
 public. 
 
 But I did not keep my audience long in suspense. As the 
 leaders of the royal landau passed me I sent Napoleon into 
 the air and coming down landed him front face, still as a 
 statue, at the same time making my military salute. The 
 Khedive half turned in his seat and leaning over the side 
 of his carriage clapped his hands in applause, and shortly 
 afterwards sent an equerry back to tell me to come along- 
 
The Bounding Horse 279 
 
 side his carriage, where he complimented me on my horse- 
 manship. 
 
 One of the Khedive's sons, little Prince Ibrahim, a boy of 
 about twelve years of age, took great delight in seeing 
 Napoleon leap, and when driving with his governor, an old 
 English general, as a treat would be allowed to send for me 
 to come alongside his carriage where he could better see the 
 "bouncing" horse, as he called my charger. 
 
 On one occasion the bounding horse came near getting 
 me into very serious trouble. I was riding on the famous 
 Shubra promenade when a gorgeous carriage, in which 
 were seated two ladies with very thin white veils covering 
 their faces, approached. I was new to the country and did 
 not recognize the signs of a royal equipage or know that cus- 
 tom required that I should turn my back, or at least look 
 in some other direction; so, ignoring the etiquette of the 
 court, I not only looked at the houris, but also pressed 
 Napoleon with my knees and sent him up into the air. The 
 ladies not only smiled, but also looked out of the window at 
 the back of the carriage and one of them threw out a flower. 
 My horse was at the gallop and throwing myself out of my 
 saddle I picked it up without breaking his stride or parting 
 company with him. The lady evidently liked the circus 
 performance, for she kept on throwing flowers. Her carriage 
 was accompanied by two splendidly mounted eunuchs and 
 two more of these creatures were seated on the box. The 
 mounted guard was well ahead, so they did not for a time 
 see what was going on, but when we arrived at the railway 
 crossing there was a jam and I put my horse right alongside 
 the carriage. The lady reached out and placed in my hand 
 a bouquet with a dainty handkerchief wrapped around the 
 stem. Then the trouble commenced. The eunuchs began to 
 snarl and yell. The two horsemen dismounted and tried to 
 get at me through the crowd. One was waving a scimitar 
 and the other a courbash (a whip made out of rhinoceros 
 hide) with which they could bring blood at every blow. I 
 
28o Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 stood the fellow in front of me off by making Napoleon rear 
 up, but the creature with the scimitar was fast approaching 
 through the tangled mass of vehicles from behind. Seeing 
 an opening I sent my horse through it and at the railway 
 bars which were down. We skimmed over the first one, but 
 as we bounded across the railway I heard the express com- 
 ing and, urging the game animal on, we leaped the second 
 bar; and as we went over I wondered if Napoleon had saved 
 his tail. Going on at full speed I turned into a very narrow 
 street with the object of losing my pursuers, but there was 
 an obstacle in the way, an old white-bearded Arab seated 
 on a diminutive donkey, standing right across my path; 
 but it was no time for hesitation, so I sent my horse at the 
 jump, lifting him on the bit and striking the spurs deeply 
 into his sides at the same time. The agile creature rose into 
 the air like a bird, and as I passed over the Arab's head I 
 heard him give a groan and exclaim, "Inch Allah!" ("It 
 pleases God.") 
 
 Arriving at my quarters, which I shared with Count 
 Sala, one of the Khedive's equerries and a rich Armenian 
 gentleman, I showed them my trophy, and to my amaze- 
 ment they both advised me to go to the American Con- 
 sulate while yet I had time. Mr. Ekezler offered me money 
 to take me out of the city, which I indignantly declined, 
 telling them that I had done no harm. They both hastily 
 left the house, and in a few minutes Nubar Pasha, the 
 Prime Minister, called on me and told me that "he had 
 heard of my escapade and so had His Highness and he 
 wanted that handkerchief." The flimsy piece of lace was 
 lying on the table and I picked it up knowing by that time 
 that he wanted it for evidence. I lit a match and set it on 
 fire, almost instantly destroying every vestige of it. The 
 Minister was in a rage and told me that I would hear more 
 of the matter, and then left. That night when I went to 
 my restaurant no one. Christian or Mussulman, would 
 recognize me or hold any intercourse with me whatever, 
 
The Khedive orders a Wedding 281 
 
 and afterwards, when I visited the clubs, they became 
 emptied as though by magic. 
 
 The trouble was caused by the fact that the hand- 
 kerchief had embroidered on it a crown and the initials 
 " P F" and was the property of one of the princesses. This 
 lady was not unknown to fame on account of some of her 
 escapades. She had the reputation of being somewhat of a 
 " Marguerite of Burgundy," in that her lovers suddenly dis- 
 appeared and were never heard of again. I heard that the 
 Khedive was furious when he heard the story, but there was 
 a Countess de Lex, wife of the Russian Consul-General, 
 who had great influence at court, and she undertook to 
 plead my cause and persuaded the Khedive that I was a 
 mere foolish boy and had meant no harm, and so the 
 adventure ended. I had never seen the Princess before, and 
 certainly never saw her afterwards.^ 
 
 The Khedive Ismail carried things with a high hand, as 
 he, by the laws of the land, was entitled to do. When the 
 French Empress visited Egypt, she was of course shown 
 one of the harems, and womanlike of course expressed a 
 desire to see an Egyptian wedding. A little thing like that 
 was easy to arrange by a man who by simply clapping his 
 hands could remove from this mundane sphere any one 
 of his eight or ten millions of subjects. When the desire 
 was expressed by the Empress to see a wedding, the hand- 
 somest of His Highness's native equerries happened to be 
 standing near. He was a perfect picture in his superb uni- 
 form. The Khedive turned to him and told him to go and 
 prepare himself to be married on the following day. Ibra- 
 him replied with the usual "To hear is to obey." 
 
 Now this preparation to be married must have been 
 quite an ordeal, as besides the baths there were a certain 
 number of visits to be paid to mosques and many prayers 
 to be said. The Khedive politely asked the Empress to 
 
 * For an account of this adventure see " My Life on Four Continents," by 
 Col. Charles Chaill^-Long, formerly of the Egyptian Army. — J. M. M. 
 
282 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 choose the bride, and it was said that she showed great 
 taste in selecting a beautiful Circassian girl. This poor child 
 must have suffered dreadfully while they arrayed her in 
 her wedding garments and then covered her from head to 
 foot in a gaudy, heavy, gold-embroidered wrap. Not even 
 her eyes nor the tips of her little feet could be seen, and 
 in this guise with the drums and shrill reed instruments, 
 which screeched in awful discord, and the "fantasia" (men 
 pretending to fight with spears and swords) preceding her, 
 from early morning to sundown she had to promenade the 
 streets under the scorching sun with no relief from any 
 source except the fans waved by the hands of two shape- 
 less bundles of clothes, said to have contained girl friends 
 of the bride inside them. This weary function lasted until 
 the sun went down, and the ceremony was completed by 
 her arrival at the house of the groom into which she was 
 followed by her female relatives or friends. Even then 
 she had another ordeal to go through — the lifting of her 
 veil, which is done by the groom; and once he has seen her 
 face, she is married. But the bridegroom does not get his 
 wife yet, as she is then taken back to her former home 
 where she stays for a week before she returns to live for 
 good and all with her lord and master. 
 
 Divorce is easy. All that a husband has to say to his 
 wife is, "Thou art divorced," when he gets into a tantrum, 
 and the wife of his bosom has to return to her parents* 
 However, he can take her back again, if he wants to, unless 
 he has said to her, "Thou art thrice divorced!" — in which 
 case she must marry some one else and get a divorce from 
 number two, before she can remarry her former master. 
 This is easily managed by the rich, who free a slave, have 
 him marry the divorced woman, and then quietly have the 
 slave bowstrung. All of which is very simple. 
 
 The power of the Khedive went far beyond entertaining 
 an empress by making two people, who had never seen each 
 other before, get married. An official of the palace could 
 
Harems 283 
 
 go into the field of a fellah, and by simply saying, "In the 
 name of the Effendina," make him stop work in his own 
 field and go into that of His Highness, or into any one 
 else's, for that matter, and labor without reward. His 
 officials could in the same way commandeer any vehicle, 
 horse, ox, ass. They could go to the riverside and com- 
 pel any dahabeah (the Nile boat) to interrupt its voyage, 
 discharge its cargo, and perform any service which the 
 representative of his master ordered him to do; and this 
 silently and without protest. This custom was of course 
 much abused by officials without the knowledge of the 
 Khedive. The rights of foreign governments, however, 
 were very scrupulously respected, and any Egyptian sub- 
 ject who could get any sort of employment by a consulate 
 was deemed fortunate, as neither he nor his property was 
 interfered with; and these protections were eagerly sought 
 after by the rices, or owners of dahabeahs. It was said that 
 the price of American flags fell suddenly, and they fluttered 
 from the mastheads of an extraordinary number of boats, 
 enabling their owners to laugh at the command to heave to. 
 One word more about that much misunderstood (by 
 Christians) word "harem." It does not mean, as is gener- 
 ally supposed, a collection of odalisques, but it is the equiva- 
 lent of our word "family," and includes not only the wives 
 and children, but the mothers and grandmothers, the aunts 
 and cousins, and their female slaves. A wealthy man 
 maintained a great number of women in his harem because 
 it was a part of his state to do so, and the greater the num- 
 ber, the greater the consideration in which he was held. 
 Ismail Pasha had many palaces containing harems into 
 which he had never put his foot; they were his harems, but 
 possibly were legacies from his predecessors. The Khe- 
 dive's mother always made him a present of a beautiful 
 Circassian or Georgian girl on his birthday, and It is very 
 probable that he never took the trouble to see any of them. 
 How could they, without a thought beyond making toilets 
 
284 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 and eating candy, interest a highly intelligent and edu- 
 cated man accustomed to the best society of Europe? 
 
 Much sympathy has been wasted on the Oriental women 
 by their Christian sisters. Under no circumstances would 
 the Moslem ladies change places with them. A Mohamme- 
 dan woman measures the affectionate esteem in which she 
 is held by her lord and master by the number of eunuchs 
 who accompany her when she goes abroad, and the close- 
 ness of the watch kept upon her while in the harem; and 
 yet she has a certain amount of liberty. For instance, no 
 husband can refuse a childless wife permission to go alone 
 to Dhamanour to sit on the sacred stone which is believed 
 to be a sure cure for barrenness, and no one who has ever 
 attended the feast of Dhamanour, and witnessed the scenes 
 there enacted, leaves with the slightest doubt about the 
 efficacy of a visit to Dhamanour in such cases. And there 
 also is the right to visit the public baths. No eunuch is 
 permitted to accompany a woman further than the en- 
 trance, and the woman has the right to remain in the baths 
 as long as it suits her pleasure. Closely veiled and with a 
 voluminous silk gown covering her from the top of her 
 head to her toes, there is nothing to prevent her from enter- 
 ing the door and immediately turning around and walking 
 out again, passing right by her guardian without his knowl- 
 edge; for where there are dozens of similar bags containing 
 women, what mortal eyes could distinguish any particular 
 female? And woe betide the eunuch that interferes with 
 any lady not belonging to his master's harem. Such is the 
 love of adventure among foreigners that many have been 
 willing to risk the awful penalties of invading a Mussul- 
 man's home so as to be able to boast afterwards that they 
 had been inside of a harem. By treaty with the great 
 powers a Moslem has the right to put to death any man 
 caught in the act of so doing. 
 
 The eunuch is as a rule faithful and devoted to his mas- 
 ter, and the master indulges the creature in every way. 
 
Harems 285 
 
 Many of these things are very wealthy, and strange to 
 say, they buy beautiful slaves to wait upon them in their 
 own private homes, and their conversation is almost en- 
 tirely restricted to the subject of women and their perfec- 
 tions. Of course there are some disloyal scoundrels among 
 the eunuchs, at least there were said to be. I remember one 
 in particular who was nearly seven feet in height and as 
 slender as a flagstaff. I do not know that he was unfaith- 
 ful, but at all events he made a very good income by mak- 
 ing gullible young men believe that he was. His method 
 was very simple; he would hang around Shepheard's Hotel 
 and pick out some rich young tourist and tell him that a 
 wonderfully beautiful inmate of his master's harem had 
 seen him and fallen in love with him, and as she was his 
 (the eunuch's) favorite, he had consented to assist her in 
 her love affair, and that if the proposed victim would make 
 an appointment with him, as his master was out of the 
 city, he, the eunuch, would facilitate their meeting, etc. He 
 would then accompany his dupe through dark and narrow 
 streets to the rear of the garden wall surrounding his mas- 
 ter's palace, unlock a small door and lead him into the 
 grounds, and when he had got him some distance inside 
 he would turn upon him and demand a large sum of money, 
 threatening to give the alarm if it was not instantly forth- 
 coming. Sefar Pasha, the brute's master, and an apostate 
 Austrian who had amassed great wealth and also stood 
 high in the esteem of both the Sultan and the Khedive, 
 used to get great merriment out of the facetiousness of his 
 confidential slave. He used to say that doubtless more 
 Leanders boasted of having invaded the sacred precincts 
 of his harem than that of any other pasha or bey, but he 
 doubted if any of them ever boasted of the amount it cost 
 them simply to pass the garden gate. Sefar undoubtedly 
 was in the confidence of the rascal. When Arabi Bey 
 raised his rebellion in Egypt the inmates of Sefar Pasha's 
 harem, in common with many others, were turned out 
 
286 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 on to the streets of Cairo to prevent their starving inside 
 of their gilded cages. 
 
 The first wife of a Moslem is selected for him by his 
 mother or nearest female relative ; the second wife is chosen 
 by the first; numbers one and two choose the third; and 
 one, two, and three select the fourth; and it is said that 
 they search the harems for the most beautiful girl that can 
 be found. The reason for this is that Moslem women are 
 not supposed to have souls, but a true believer can have as 
 members of his houri harem in paradise as many of his 
 earthly wives as he chooses, so the only chance of a here- 
 after for the women is to please their lords so well that said 
 lords will ask for them when they get to paradise. 
 
CHAPTER XXXIII 
 
 Egyptian Army splendidly drilled in manual of arms and tactics — American 
 officers dine with the Effendina — Sham battle — Napoleon disgraces me — 
 Feast of the Dosse — Marriage of the Nile — Offend Arabi Bey and am sent to 
 Rosetta — Sailing on the great canal — Rosetta — A deserted palace — See 
 ghosts which turn out to be lepers — Accept hospitality of an Armenian — 
 Commander of garrison not overjoyed to see me. 
 
 When we American officers entered the Egyptian Army 
 it was composed of some sixty thousand well-drilled men. 
 The French officers who had preceded us had done won- 
 ders with them in this respect, and in the manual of arms 
 it would have put the West Point cadets on their mettle 
 to have excelled any infantry regiment of the line. The 
 Egyptian rapid formation of squares from fours to whole 
 brigades was a marvel to us. Ever since Napoleon beat 
 off the Mameluke cavalry under the shadow of the Pyra- 
 mids their whole idea of military strategy centred on the 
 formation of squares. 
 
 We had not been very long in Egypt before some forty 
 thousand men of all branches of the service were gathered 
 around Cairo to take part in a grand sham battle. I was 
 temporarily assigned to General Stone's staff for the occa- 
 sion. General Stone was to command one army and Lieu- 
 tenant-General Ratib Pasha, commander-in-chief of the 
 Egyptian Army, was to command the other. 
 
 The evening of the day before the battle, the Khedive 
 gave a grand banquet to which the American officers were 
 invited. On the right of His Highness sat Nubar Pasha, the 
 Prime Minister, and on his left General Charles P. Stone, 
 chief -of -staff. Opposite the Effendina sat General Loring, 
 with me, away out of my rank, on his left. My being placed 
 so far above many officers who should have had my seat 
 of honor was because Loring could not speak French, the 
 
288 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 language of the court, and needed me to interpret for him, 
 and also to assist him, as he had but one arm. 
 
 "Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown." While the 
 banquet was magnificent, there was one sinister formality 
 which gave me the creeps. Alongside of the Khedive's dinner 
 plate was another and larger plate which was never removed 
 between the courses. When a dish was passed to His High- 
 ness he helped himself plentifully, — he was a good trench- 
 erman, — and then he cut his portion in two and placed half 
 of it on the extra plate; and when we were through dinner 
 the Khedive's private chemist took the plate and contents 
 and carried them to his laboratory where he analyzed them 
 in a search for poison. This performance, I was told, was 
 gone through after every meal. 
 
 During the dinner His Highness said a few pleasant words 
 to each of the American officers — to me he said that he 
 would look forward to seeing "that bounding horse" on the 
 morrow, and asked if I thought so nervous an animal would 
 stand fire. General Stone answered, laughingly, that with 
 me on him, he would have to stand fire. I had intended to 
 ride a more sedate charger, but after that remark, which I 
 regarded as a challenge, I decided to ride Napoleon — and 
 Napoleon disgraced me. 
 
 At a critical time during the action General Stone sent 
 me with an order to the pasha commanding his artillery to 
 move certain batteries, which were massed on a small knoll, 
 to another position, as Ratib Pasha was trying to pass some 
 troops, under cover of another hill, to a position in their rear. 
 The infantry were blazing away down the whole line and I 
 passed like a whirlwind along the whole length of it, going 
 so fast that "Naboleone" (as the natives called him) could 
 not have stopped if he had wanted to; but alas, as I dashed 
 among the heavy guns, which were making a fearful uproar, 
 and came to a halt in front of the pasha, saluted, and was 
 passing him the order, I felt myself sinking, and I continued 
 to sink until my feet were on the ground, while the poor 
 
Feast of the Dosse 289 
 
 frightened brute shivered between my legs. The horse was 
 actually so terrified by the artillery that his legs had given 
 way under him and he was resting with his belly on the 
 sand. I used the spurs, but they had no effect. The pasha 
 smiled in an amused way and maliciously told me to return 
 and report to the general that the order would be obeyed, 
 I knew as well as he did that I could not move, but I gave 
 him a surprise by telling him that it was necessary for me to 
 remain until the change had been made. That was too much 
 for even the stoicism of the Arab pasha and I could dis- 
 tinctly hear his loud laugh despite the booming of the guns. 
 When the artillery stopped firing preparatory to limbering 
 up, Napoleon sprang into the air with a wonderful bound 
 and as he came down to earth again he started to run. I 
 made no effort to stop him, being too thankful to escape 
 from my ridiculous position. 
 
 The day after the sham battle we attended the feast of the 
 Doss6 where we saw fanatics lie on their backs as close to- 
 gether as sardines in a box, and form a living pathway five 
 hundred or more yards in length. The thousands of specta- 
 tors formed living walls on each side of this human road, and 
 then came some fifty priests in front, and as many behind, 
 the high priest, mounted on a snow-white stallion, and they 
 walked over the prostrate bodies. The horse alone showed 
 any disinclination to step on the human beings. He had to 
 be pushed from behind to make him put his foot on the 
 first body, and they had much difficulty in making him do it. 
 The Arabs pretend to believe that the prostrate fanatics are 
 so holy that the hoofs of the horse do not hurt them, but I 
 noticed that the instant the animal passed over a body the 
 man was lifted up and carried away — not one was allowed 
 to get up by himself, so no one could prove that any ribs 
 were broken. As soon as the horse and rider reached the end 
 of the living pathway, the immense throng of people made 
 a rush for them and began to pull out the hairs of the ani- 
 mal's beautiful flowing mane and tail for sacred relics. 
 
290 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 When they, or as many of them as could get near enough to 
 pluck a hair, were satisfied, the horse's tail was as bare as 
 that of a rat. He belonged to the Prophet's breed, as could 
 be easily distinguished by the three red marks across the 
 nose. These marks are inherited from Mohammed's mare, 
 and were caused by the Prophet having, after some great 
 victory over the accursed unbeliever, wiped the blood from 
 his dripping scimitar with his fingers and then wiped the 
 gory fingers on the nose of his mare. No one save the Sul- 
 tan, the Khedive, the Sheik Ul Islam, and one or two other 
 high church dignitaries are allowed to mount horses of 
 this breed. 
 
 This feast of the Doss^, I am glad to say, is no longer tol- 
 erated by Egypt's present rulers. Nor is the one of the 
 "marriage of the Nile," when the banks of the river were cut 
 and the water allowed to escape into the grand canal ; then 
 they took a young virgin, arrayed in a bridal costume, in a 
 boat to the middle of the river, and as the waters broke 
 through the bank dumped her, bound hand and foot, over- 
 board. 
 
 I must say that at this time I very much enjoyed Cairo 
 with its many state functions, but I suppose that General 
 Stone thought that a little work would be beneficial for my 
 health, for he sent me to the staff of General Loring, in- 
 spector-general of infantry, and it did not take me very long 
 to get myself into trouble with a very influential personage 
 — one Arabi Bey, who afterwards headed the great rebel- 
 lion. General Loring and I inspected his regiment which 
 was stationed at the Abbassia, in the suburbs of Cairo. It 
 was very early in the morning when the regiment was drawn 
 up in line, and I became very suspicious about the number 
 of men who were suddenly seized with a desire to pray. (A 
 Mussulman has to pray whenever the notion strikes him, 
 and under no circumstances must any one interfere with 
 him when at his devotions.) A private would suddenly hand 
 his gun to a man alongside of him, face in the direction 
 
Offend Arabi Bey 291 
 
 he supposed Mecca to be, raise his arms, start his prayer, 
 and we had to pass him by without inspection of either his 
 uniform, accoutrements, or gun. It was a good ruse, but a 
 cursory glance convinced me that a gun, badly out of order, 
 was the cause of the devout feeling which had come over him, 
 and in my notebook I recorded all of these weapons as unfit 
 for service. General Loring incorporated these notes in his 
 report, with the result that the Minister of War admonished 
 Arabi, and Arabi defended himself by saying that the bad 
 report was only caused by my religious prejudices, as could 
 be easily proved by the fact that I had reported only the 
 guns of men engaged in prayer as being out of order. The 
 Minister sent for General Loring and myself and quite 
 plainly intimated that if I expected to remain in Egypt it 
 would be advisable for me to drop some of my Christian 
 prejudices. I felt outraged, but at the same time flattered, 
 as it was the first time I had ever been accused of harboring 
 an excess of Christian zeal. General Loring was also angry, 
 and he ordered me to re-inspect Arabi's regiment the next 
 morning — and to bring some of the guns back with me, as 
 samples. 
 
 I arrived at the garrison about dawn and found Arabi 
 seated on his prayer carpet, in front of his quarters, busily 
 engaged in his devotions. I presented the order, and at first 
 he refused to obey it, but on reflection he ordered out his 
 command. The inspection was soon over, as I seized only 
 half a dozen guns belonging to men engaged in prayer, 
 knowing them to be the ones I wanted. I made my sais 
 carry the guns, and returned to the general's quarters. I 
 was ordered to take them to the citadel and show them to 
 the Minister, who seemed to be as angry as Arabi was, de- 
 spite the fact that the guns were disgracefully out of order. 
 A few days afterwards I received an order to go to Rosetta 
 to inspect some old cannon there which doubtless had not 
 been used or cleaned since the day when Nelson's guns had 
 roared at Aboukir. 
 
292 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 My orders were explicit. I was to embark on a dahabeah 
 and go through the Mamoudeah Canal to the Rosetta 
 Branch of the Nile and down that stream to Rosetta. I was 
 to take my horse with me, and an Arab officer who spoke 
 French was to accompany me as interpreter. The order 
 also informed me that all necessary arrangements had been 
 made for my comfort on the voyage and after I arrived at 
 my destination. However, knowing something about Egyp- 
 tian ways by this time, I took the precaution of having a 
 large basket of provisions prepared for me at my restaurant 
 — and well it was for me that I did so. For I not only did 
 not find any food on the dahabeah, but I also found that the 
 young Arab officer expected me to furnish him with rations. 
 
 We sailed smoothly over the placid waters of the canal 
 while I amused myself watching the novel scenery, the fel- 
 laheen, male and female, old men and women, and little chil- 
 dren working in the fields with their short-handled hoes, 
 leading water from the smaller canals on the higher levels 
 to the plants they wished to irrigate. The dignified ibis 
 strutted fearlessly among them, or perched on the backs of 
 buffaloes, seeking vermin, and their snow-white feathers 
 made a pretty contrast to the black hides of the animals. 
 Along the banks of the canal men were lifting water to the 
 higher levels with the same machinery used by their fore- 
 fathers in the time of Moses, namely, in baskets. 
 
 As we glided along I was for a time much mystified by 
 seeing boys of eight or ten years of age apparently stand- 
 ing in the water up to their waists as the boat, which I 
 knew drew five or six feet of water, passed so close that I 
 could almost have touched them. I soon discovered that 
 they were herders and were seated on the backs of water 
 oxen which were feeding on the grasses which grew at the 
 bottom of the canal. Each boy was armed with a sharp- 
 pointed stick with which he prodded the beast when he 
 wanted him to go ashore to resume work. 
 
 I also made another discovery, and that was that Mah- 
 
A Deserted Palace 293 
 
 moud, my interpreter, did not know as much French as I 
 did Arabic, and this was not reassuring. 
 
 At the end of my second day's journey I arrived at 
 Rosetta at about nine o'clock at night. The moon was at its 
 full, and the moon seen through the dry atmosphere of Egypt 
 seems larger than it does in other lands. I had been told that 
 every arrangement would be made for my comfort and I was 
 glad to see two soldiers with a wheelbarrow come down to 
 the landing-place. Mahmoud surlily tried to make me un- 
 derstand something, but without success, and as the boat 
 touched the landing he leaped ashore and I saw him no more 
 that night. The soldiers put my trunk on their barrow and 
 making signs for me to follow they led the way into the city 
 with me trailing behind, leading Napoleon, whose iron-shod 
 hoofs resounded on the cobble-stones. The buildings lining 
 the street were of stone and magnificent in their propor- 
 tions, but there was not a human being to be seen, nor a 
 sound to be heard, save that made by my horse's feet and 
 the squeaking of the rusty wheel of the barrow. After walk- 
 ing for many blocks we entered what once must have been 
 a grand palace with great stone columns in the court and 
 most imposing stairs leading to the apartments above. 
 Napoleon was made fast to a column, and I followed the 
 men who carried my trunk upstairs, where they deposited 
 my property in the centre of a room that must have been at 
 least sixty feet long by about forty in width, and then they 
 left me, I thinking, of course, that they were going away for 
 the purpose of getting me some food and bedding for the 
 horse as well as myself — but I saw them no more. 
 
 I sat on my trunk for a long time watching the moonbeams 
 that penetrated through the great windows, which were de- 
 void of sashes as well as of curtains, until the loneliness be- 
 came so oppressive that it became unbearable. A loud snort 
 from Napoleon decided me to seek his companionship. I 
 found the horse in a very nervous state, but my presence 
 seemed to quiet him. I talked to him and soothed him, and 
 
294 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 when he seemed contented with his lot I went out on to the 
 street to look at the moon and take a little stroll. The only 
 living thing I met was a pariah dog that snarled and disap- 
 peared through the entrance of a handsome house. While 
 perfectly harmless to natives I knew that these wild dogs, 
 especially when in packs, had a great aversion for Chris- 
 tians, and where one was met it was certain that there were 
 many more near by, so I determined to return to my palace 
 where I again found Napoleon in a great state of excitement, 
 making a clatter by pawing on the stone floor and snorting. 
 It was some time before I could quiet him, and then I sat 
 down resting my back against the column to which he was 
 made fast. Wearied I dropped off to sleep, but was soon 
 startled out of it by a loud snort. After soothing the animal 
 I dozed off again, and this performance was kept up all 
 night. At times when awake I thought I could see shapes 
 flitting about among the shadows, but I soon came to the 
 conclusion that what I saw was the result of my own im- 
 agination. At last the horse quieted down seemingly re- 
 signed to the situation, and I fell into a sound sleep and 
 awoke only when the sun streamed into the portal. When 
 I opened my eyes I was astonished to see a dozen or more 
 wretched human beings standing within a few feet of me, and 
 as soon as they discovered I was awake they commenced to 
 clamor for backsheesh (alms), so my spectres of the lonely 
 night had not after all been Cleopatras and Pharaohs, or 
 the creation of my overwrought imagination. One of the 
 horrible creatures became emboldened and came quite 
 close to me extending his fearfully distorted hands. One 
 glance and I knew that my guests were lepers. Horrified, 
 I hastily saddled my horse and vaulted into the saddle, 
 throwing some small coins on the stone floor as I dashed out 
 into the street. 
 
 At the full gallop I went, whither I knew not. Following 
 the street to where its end touched the desert, I found a 
 small bazaar around which some two hundred and fifty in- 
 
Accept Hospitality of an Armenian 295 
 
 habitants lived in an almost deserted city which at one time 
 had sheltered several hundreds of thousands, and which 
 now eked out a scanty existence by supplying the niggardly 
 wants of a small garrison of Egyptian soldiers. Rosetta 
 had once been a great commercial city, but the silt of the 
 Nile had deposited itself to such a depth at the mouth of the 
 Rosetta Branch that vessels drawing more than three or four 
 feet of water could not enter the port — and thus was 
 ruined the commerce of the once flourishing city. Here it 
 was that the famous "Rosetta Stone," the key to the hiero- 
 glyphics, was found. 
 
 At the little bazaar I procured a cup of coffee, and when I 
 had finished it, an Armenian, who kept one of the booths, in 
 perfect English offered for five shillings to interpret for me. 
 I told him that I wanted food and shelter for my horse and 
 myself, and he offered to accommodate me if I would ac- 
 company him to his house — which of course I did. I never 
 saw what the inside of his house looked like, as he never 
 invited me to enter it. The Oriental Christian keeps his 
 women-folks secluded almost to the same extent as do the 
 Mussulmans. So my host lodged me in a small two-room, 
 one-story, stone outbuilding where I occupied one room 
 and my horse the other. Inducing the Armenian to accom- 
 pany me, I went to the barracks and showed my orders to 
 the bey, who seemed none too well pleased to see me. A 
 young lieutenant was then called and instructed to show me 
 the cannon that were to be inspected. My work was soon 
 finished, and my report was very brief, but my instructions 
 compelled me to remain in Rosetta until I received orders to 
 return to Cairo, and I was suffering from a very bad case 
 of nostalgia for Cairo. 
 
CHAPTER XXXIV 
 
 Khedive always just to the American officers, but it was difficult to obtain 
 an audience with him — Go to Alexandria with General Loring and occupy a 
 royal palace — Difficult to get paid — Row with customs officials — An 
 Egyptian military banquet — I have not rank enough to entitle me to a seat 
 at the table — Cabal formed against General Stone — I am sent to the staff 
 of Ratib Pasha, commander-in-chief of the Egyptian Army. 
 
 My experience while in the Egyptian Army convinced 
 me that so far as the American officers were concerned, they 
 could always get just treatment if they could only get their 
 cases before the Khedive ; but there was the rub. How was 
 one to get an interview? This was generally a matter of 
 long negotiation, as His Highness was surrounded by as 
 unprincipled a set of scoundrels as ever accursed the throne 
 of a prince. To get through this cordon was almost an im- 
 possibility. Only one American officer could get an inter- 
 view whenever he wished it, and that one was General 
 Stone. Had he occupied himself with the troubles of the 
 others, he would have had but little time to devote to his 
 duties as chief-of-staff . 
 
 General Loring was ordered to the command of the 
 Department of Alexandria, and I went with him as aide- 
 de-camp. An old, small, and dilapidated royal palace was 
 assigned the general for his headquarters. They were very 
 commodious and very uncomfortable. The faded brocades 
 and silks of the curtains and divans were in rags, and moth- 
 eaten rugs were scattered over the floors which did not look 
 as if they had been swept since the days when some of the 
 Pharaoh princes dwelt there. I spent one night under its 
 roof and then fled to the H6tel d'Angleterre. The myriads 
 of fleas and things, such as an occasional scorpion dropping 
 on to a bed, were too much for me. 
 
 It did not take us very long to discover that we were not 
 welcome to the native officers and that we had been placed 
 
Difficult to get paid 297 
 
 in the positions of op^ra-bouffe soldiers. For instance, the 
 first thing General Loring did was to make a requisition for 
 a headquarters guard of ten men. The answer from his sec- 
 ond (?) in command was that so many men could not be 
 spared for such a purpose. The general then demanded a 
 roster, which was promptly returned reporting twelve thou- 
 sand men fit for duty! The matter was referred to the 
 Minister of War, who of course sustained the native pasha. 
 
 Our pay had fallen in arrears several months and there 
 seemed no help for it. As I have said before, there was no 
 pay department. One month we would get an order for it 
 on the Khedive's privy purse, and the next on a custom 
 house — any place where there was supposed to be a little 
 money, it did not matter where, and when we presented the 
 order we were met with a bland "Boukrah" ("Come to- 
 morrow"), and that was supposed to satisfy both us and 
 our creditors. Now I had learned that the Khedive knew 
 nothing of this state of affairs, and that he would be very 
 angry if it should ever come to his ears — so I decided that 
 I would either get my money, or it would get there. My 
 patience was exhausted, and I determined to get either my 
 pay or a row that would have to attract the attention of 
 His Highness, so I buckled on my sword and pistol and went 
 down to the custom house, on which I had orders for several 
 months' pay, and was received as usual with great polite- 
 ness and firmness and told as usual to "come to-morrow." 
 With equal suavity I replied that I had come for my money 
 and that I meant to have it — that I had any amount of 
 leisure, and they could take their time about it. 
 
 The custom house was situated on the harbor and the 
 only entrance into the city was through a sallyport in which 
 I took up a position amongst a lot of dry-goods boxes. By 
 the rules of the port the custom house closed at four o'clock. 
 At half-past three, I was told that I must leave the building, 
 as none but employees were permitted to remain after that 
 hour. I replied that I not only would not leave unless I 
 
298 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 received my money first, but that until I was paid no one 
 else would leave unless they passed over my dead body, and 
 I produced my regulation Colt from its holster. At this the 
 official seemed to lose his half-contemptuous, half-commis- 
 erating smile, and he retired to confer with his chief; then 
 his chief, the bey himself, came out in high dudgeon and 
 told me that the Effendina would be very angry if he ever 
 heard of my actions, and that I would be dismissed. In 
 reply I asked him if he thought it would be a very dreadful 
 thing to be put out of the service of a government which 
 could not raise sufficient money to pay my wretched pit- 
 tance. He promised to pay me if I would come back "to- 
 morrow," and I laughed in his face. He then retired to his 
 sanctum and sent word to me that if I would come in there 
 I would receive my money; but on surveying the advan- 
 tages of my position, I declined the invitation, simply stat- 
 ing that the money must be counted out on the dry-goods 
 box, and that then I would gladly leave — and the money 
 was counted out to me! 
 
 That night I received a visit from the bey and he fairly 
 fawned on me as he cringingly begged me not to mention 
 what had passed, as there was no telling what might happen 
 to him if it came to the ears of his master — and he was 
 right ; for the Khedive never dreamed that we were kept out 
 of our pay month after month as had been the custom. 
 
 The native pasha who was second in command nomi- 
 nally, but in reality first, invited General Loring to a ban- 
 quet, and I was ordered to accompany my chief. We en- 
 tered a carriage and drove across the sands for some three 
 miles before we arrived at the garrison where the pasha's 
 headquarters were situated. First the guard was inspected 
 and afterwards we were ushered into the banquet hall. Of 
 course General Loring had the seat of honor on the right of 
 the pasha and at his place were placed a plate, knife, fork, 
 and spoon, in the European style — the natives of course 
 eating out of the large dishes or pans with their fingers. My 
 
GENERAL W. W. LORING 
 
 Taken in Cairo 
 
A Difficulty about Rank 299 
 
 chair was conspicuous by its absence. It was very humili- 
 ating for me to have to do the interpreting in so personal a 
 matter, but there was no help for it. General Loring told 
 me to say to the pasha that it was absolutely necessary for 
 him to have me beside him, as I was his only means of com- 
 munication, and besides he had only one arm and frequently 
 needed assistance. The pasha replied that I could stand be- 
 hind the general's chair. I was never so near becoming a 
 madman as I was while translating this suggestion, and when 
 I had finished I told the general that I would retire. He 
 begged me not to desert him, and explained that no offense 
 was meant — only they did not know any better. Finally 
 a chair was brought for me and placed by the general. 
 
 I was indignant with General Loring for the excuse he 
 made for wanting me beside him. I was neither an inter- 
 preter nor a valet — and before I got through I intended to 
 make him understand it too. I was a gentleman at home, 
 and I intended to be treated as one in Egypt. It appeared 
 strange to me that I, who had been a guest at the Khedive's 
 table on several occasions, should not be considered of suf- 
 ficient rank to sit at a meal in the company of these cheap 
 ofT-colored beys. I had had enough of it, and I intended to 
 sever my connection with His Highness's service the mo- 
 ment I could get hold of pen, ink, and paper. 
 
 The next morning I took the train for Cairo, and on 
 arriving there went straight to the citadel ; and as I gazed 
 on the great square between the palace and the mosque, — 
 the scene of another banquet, when Mehemet Ali invited 
 the Mamelukes to partake of his hospitality and when they 
 were inside closed the sallyport and cut loose the artillery 
 into them, — I realized that I was not the only man that 
 had got more than he bargained for at an Egyptian feast. 
 The artillery could not have been worse than the mortifica- 
 tion I had suffered. 
 
 After a short wait I was shown into the presence of 
 General Stone, who appeared very much shocked at my 
 
300 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 story and frankly told me that the affair was going to em- 
 barrass him greatly. I insisted that the simplest way out 
 of the difficulty was to use his influence to have my resigna- 
 tion accepted immediately. But this he would not hear 
 of, and instructed me to return to him in three days. The 
 chief-of-staff was very suave — he was not only a most 
 accomplished man in his profession, but he was a born 
 manipulator of men. Mott, Loring, Sibley, Rhett, Kennon, 
 and several others had formed a cabal against him, but he 
 had handled the whole crowd as though they were so many 
 naughty children; and before he got through with them 
 they were tame enough to eat out of his hand and beg for 
 his influence when they wanted any favors from the Khe- 
 dive. It was not extraordinary, therefore, that he bent me 
 to his will, tore up my resignation, ordered me not to say 
 another word about the matter, as it would greatly annoy 
 the Khedive if it got to his ears, and then informed me that 
 it had been decided to send me to the staff of Ratib Pasha, 
 lieutenant-general, and commander-in-chief of the Egyptian 
 Army. This detail would give me the rank of a lieutenant- 
 colonel and all danger of a repetition of such a contretemps 
 as the one I had recently been subjected to would be at 
 an end. 
 
CHAPTER XXXV 
 
 Ratib Pasha — Attempted suicide gained him promotion — Ratib is pre- 
 sented to a pretty soubrette — And calls on her accompanied by his staff — 
 The commander-in-chief is peeved — The Abyssinian campaign — Ratib 
 Pasha the only court favorite faithful to the Khedive Ismail in the hour of 
 humiliation and sorrow — The Duke of Hamilton, General Mott, and the 
 duel that did not come off. 
 
 Ratib Pasha, commander-in-chief of the Egyptian Army, 
 was not an imposing figure to look at ; he was only five feet 
 four or five inches in height and could hardly have weighed 
 more than a hundred pounds; his features were not at all 
 impressive, and they were of a dark brown tinge. He had 
 risen to his high rank suddenly, and like most military 
 heroes rejoiced in an ugly facial wound which did not add to 
 his personal beauty. The story of his promotion was typical 
 of the methods of the khedives of the time in such cases. 
 
 Abbas Pasha was the ruler, and little Ratib was one of his 
 equerries. Abbas used to turn him into ridicule and get lots 
 of fun out of him ; but one day Ratib had the misfortune to 
 displease his master, who had a very ugly temper, and in a 
 burst of rage Abbas turned upon him and hissed the awful 
 word "Canzire!" The Arabic language is prolific in epi- 
 thets, but not one of them conveys the degrading insult 
 incorporated in this Arab word for "hog." One might pass 
 over lightly being called the "brother of a sow," but the 
 plain, unvarnished name of the unclean beast, when applied 
 to a gentleman, demanded either satisfaction or death. Now 
 Ratib could not challenge his lord and master, so he did the 
 next most proper thing — he retired to an antechamber 
 where there was a little parlor pistol lying on a table. This 
 he picked up and fondled fondly for a moment, and then 
 he lay down on a divan, placed the muzzle of the toy pistol 
 in his mouth and pulled the trigger ! The little pellet of lead 
 penetrated the roof of his mouth and came out alongside of 
 
302 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 his nose. Ratlb's nose bled in sympathy, and he soon be- 
 came a gory-looking spectacle. The surgeons arrived and 
 quickly performed a most remarkable operation — they 
 inserted a small silver tube in the hole, which served to 
 decorate his features as well as to announce to the world 
 that he was a hero. 
 
 Like most men of quick and high temper. Abbas Pasha 
 was overcome with regret, and to make amends promised 
 Ratib the first thing that he thought the little fellow would 
 like, which was the position of commander-in-chief, on con- 
 dition that he would recover. Ratib recovered — not only 
 recovered, but retained his position under the reign of 
 Ismail Pasha, Khedive. 
 
 When the quiet and politic American, General Stone, was 
 made chief-of-staff of the army, he did not announce himself 
 with a blare of trumpets; in fact he kept in the background, 
 and few of the high officials were aware of the fact that a 
 new power had arisen among them which had to be reckoned 
 with. Stone worked silently and unobtrusively, but he had 
 the tremendous leverage of the Khedive's power to help 
 him; and soon, without depriving Ratib Pasha of a single 
 chevron or gold tassel, that officer, hardly perceiving the 
 momentum, gently glided into what Mr. Cleveland would 
 have called a position of "innocuous desuetude." 
 
 Such was the general to whose staff Colonel Charles 
 Chaille-Long and I were detailed ; and when we reported for 
 duty I cannot say that Ratib appeared overjoyed to see us, 
 despite the fact that we had been told the orders were issued 
 at his personal request. I think myself that Ratib imagined 
 it would give him a little prestige among the natives to have 
 a couple of the Americans, who were regarded as curiosities 
 from an unknown land, riding in his train. 
 
 Of course, with my usual luck I soon managed to fall 
 into disfavor. My fall from grace came about in a most 
 unexpected way. It was an off night at the opera bouife, 
 and the incomparable Celine Monthalon was charming 
 
Ratib is presented to a Soubrette 303 
 
 her audience with the wonders of her delightful voice at 
 the Italian opera, the famous edifice which had been built 
 by the Khedive for the production of Verdi's "Aida." 
 During an entr'acte I discovered that there was a large 
 sprinkling of the artistes of the bouffe and comedy com- 
 panies in the audience — among them, seated in a box, 
 high up, I spied pretty and piquant little Mademoiselle 
 Girardin, the charming soubrette of the opera bouffe. She 
 was accompanied by her mother, for she was awfully 
 proper and never went to any place without a mother. 
 (Duplan, the bouffe tenor, told me that she was so particu- 
 lar in this matter of mothers, that this was the third she 
 had had in two years to his knowledge.) I went up to the 
 box to pay my compliments and was enjoying myself 
 greatly when there was a knock at the door and to my 
 astonishment some one asked for me. I went to the door 
 and came face to face with my chief Ratib Pasha! I could 
 have been knocked down with a feather. But the inter- 
 view was not so awful as might have been expected — all 
 that the great man wanted was an introduction to Made- 
 moiselle Girardin, which seemed a very simple matter, 
 but which was not. I asked the young lady's permission 
 to present to her His Excellency, Ratib Pasha, commander- 
 in-chief of the Egyptian Army, and the little minx put me 
 to confusion by flatly denying his identity, asserting that 
 I was always trying to play practical jokes, and insisted 
 that she did not believe Ratib was any kind of a general 
 at all, much less the great commander-in-chief. Ratib took 
 a seat beside her and began the agreeable task of convincing 
 her that he was indeed the great and only human being of 
 that exalted rank, and before he knew what she was up 
 to, the little scamp in petticoats had extracted a promise 
 from him that he would the next day prove to her that he 
 was really and truly "It" by calling on her at her apart- 
 ments, not only in full uniform, but also accompanied by 
 his staff! By this time, realizing that my services were no 
 
304 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 longer required, I quietly sneaked out of the box only to 
 be heartily laughed at by my young men friends for having 
 been run off by "old Ratib." 
 
 The next afternoon Colonel Chaille-Long was absent 
 from headquarters on some duty (fortunately for him), 
 when His Excellency informed me that he wished his staff 
 to accompany him on his ride, in full uniform. Instantly 
 it flashed through my mind what was up, and I swore a 
 mighty internal oath that I would not accompany him 
 even if every soubrette in the trade died of disappointment. 
 When the appointed hour arrived it found the staff, with 
 the exception of myself, all ready. I was still attired in 
 my Presbyterian parson single-breasted black undress uni- 
 form coat. The pasha appeared in full regalia, with his 
 broad sash across his sunk-in chest and his coat so covered 
 with embroidered gold flowers that only here and there was 
 a blue spot of cloth visible. He glared at me for a moment 
 and remarked that he was under the impression that he 
 had told me he expected me to accompany him, and I re- 
 plied that "I would be unable to ride that afternoon." 
 He then ordered me to remain until he returned, as he would 
 have something to say to me, and then he mounted his 
 horse and, accompanied by his staff, rode away to conquer 
 or die. 
 
 Ratib's staff consisted of some twenty-odd Egyptian 
 officers (exclusive of Colonel Chaille-Long and myself), 
 and they formed quite a gorgeous pageant as they wended 
 their way out of the courtyard and into the street. It was 
 the hour at which all the prominent people of Cairo went 
 for their afternoon promenade on the fashionable Shubra 
 drive, and to get into that beautiful avenue they all had to 
 pass by the apartments of Mademoiselle Girardin. 
 
 The commander-in-chief drew his staff up in front of 
 the soubrette's house and dismounted, doubtless affording 
 the pleasure-seekers much amusement; and I take it for 
 granted that he convinced the young lady upon whom he 
 
The Abyssinian Campaign 305 
 
 called in such state that he really was a general. When 
 he returned to his palace he asked me "if my conduct was 
 a sample of the discipline I had come so many miles to 
 teach his countrymen, and for which His Highness paid 
 such an extravagant price." There was an offensive sneer 
 on his face which I resented, informing him that I might 
 be a mercenary, but that I would never put His Highness's 
 uniform to such a doubtful use as presenting it before ac- 
 tresses as proof that I was one of his officers. Ratib was 
 furious. For a moment I thought the little fellow was 
 going to assault me, but he seemed suddenly to change 
 his mind and hurled himself on to a divan instead, where 
 he began to kick and scream with rage like an angry child, 
 and there I left him. After this scene I got on very well 
 with my chief, officially, as he had no desire to have the 
 cause of the trouble made public property; and personally 
 he was such a religious fanatic that he did not dislike me 
 any more than he did any other Christian dog. 
 
 Ratib had in his composition a goodly share of Oriental 
 cunning and was familiar with all the subtle workings of 
 Egyptian ways of bringing about results, which were in- 
 comprehensible to the American mind. For instance, the 
 Khedive decided that his army needed a little exercise, 
 and to give it to them he sent an expedition of twelve thou- 
 sand men down the Red Sea coast to castigate the Abys- 
 sinians. He had never heard the Gilbert and Sullivan song 
 about the "torpedo and the whale," and little dreamed that 
 Egypt was cast for the part of the whale. Loring was im- 
 mensely delighted when the command was given to him. 
 Ratib Pasha lay low and said nothing until just before the 
 expedition sailed ; then he obtained permission to accom- 
 pany it merely as an onlooker and a student of war with 
 no authority over the troops whatever so far as Loring 
 was aware of. The Oriental gentlemen who knew the ways 
 of the country and also felt kindly disposed toward Loring 
 shook their heads knowingly, but did not dare to warn him. 
 
3o6 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 The army landed, but had not gone very far from the 
 coast when they received information that the Abyssin- 
 ians were coming, some thirty thousand strong, to attack 
 them. Now the Egyptian Army was splendidly drilled and 
 disciplined, and they were armed with Remington breach- 
 loaders, at that time one of the best weapons in use in any 
 of the armies; but alas, the troops did not know how to 
 shoot and few of them had ever fired a gun. Powder was 
 too expensive to be wasted in target practice, and what 
 money De Lesseps did not get out of the Khedive for his 
 canal was needed too much to swell the fortunes of the 
 court favorites, those soulless parasites who kept the khedi- 
 val treasury drained, ti fearlessness of death constitutes 
 bravery, then every Egyptian soldier is a hero, for they 
 have not the slightest dread of their end. They come from 
 the peasant class (fellahs) and are not aggressive, but 
 rather than attack they preferred to stand still and be 
 killed like sheep. 
 
 Fortunately for Loring, when the Abyssinians appeared, 
 Ratib, who had no idea of letting Loring reap the glory 
 of a great victory while he himself was present on the field, 
 produced from his breast-pocket an order from the Minis- 
 ter of War authorizing him to take over the command of 
 the army whenever in his opinion it should be necessary, 
 and of course the necessity had now arisen. Loring was 
 relieved and the Abyssianians poured down the moun- 
 tain-sides armed with all sorts of antediluvian weapons 
 including flintlocks, swords, and rhinocerous-hide shields, 
 spears, and clubs. They rushed up to the Egyptians and 
 wrenched the breech-loaders out of their hands and used 
 them to club the life out of those poor wretches. The 
 slaughter was great and the disaster frightful. But it did 
 not appear that Ratib lost much in prestige so far as his 
 standing at court was concerned. 
 
 My remarks concerning the fighting qualities of the 
 Egyptians, it must be remembered, refer to a time before 
 
The Duke of Hamilton 307 
 
 Gordon licked his Soudanese army into shape and made 
 them fight so splendidly. He had done the same thing 
 previously with the Chinese, and always insisted that they 
 were splendid fighting material when officered by Euro- 
 peans ; and it must also be remembered that the Soudanese 
 and Nubians are fighting men naturally, and very different 
 races of men from the gentle peasant of the lower Nile. 
 
 To the everlasting honor of Ratib Pasha I must say that 
 when Ismail Pasha, Khedive, was dethroned and all the 
 parasites who had drained him of his wealth had aban- 
 doned him, Ratib Pasha alone followed the master who 
 had been so kind to him into exile, and shared his impris- 
 onment and broken fortunes. 
 
 It was while I was attached to the staff of the comman- 
 der-in-chief that a personal difficulty occurred in Cairo 
 which caused a great deal of gossip both in Egypt and 
 Europe, and I regret to say that I was partly the uninten- 
 tional cause of it. 
 
 The Duke of Hamilton had come to Egypt in his steam 
 yacht bringing a very gay and noisy party of young men 
 with him. It was shortly after he had met with great 
 losses on the turf and had found it convenient to skip to 
 France between two days to avoid his most pressing credi- 
 tors. He had celebrated his arrival in Paris by sending 
 all Europe into convulsions of laughter by his answer to 
 an invitation to dine with his cousin the Emperor Napo- 
 leon. It read: "Sire: I have neither the clothes nor the 
 manners for imperial society." The duke's creditors, how- 
 ever, were amenable to reason and made an arrangement 
 with him whereby they took over the management of his 
 enormous estates and allowed him a pittance of a hundred 
 and fifty thousand dollars a year until they could pay them- 
 selves. 
 
 The duke and his party went to Cairo where they took 
 possession of Shepheard's Hotel, the most famous caravan- 
 sary for Europeans in the place at that day, and they made 
 
3o8 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 things lively for the rest of the guests, one of their most 
 favorite amusements being footraces through the long 
 corridors in the middle of the night. 
 
 If there was any trouble brewing, it was just my luck 
 to stumble into it. There was a rich Englishman by the 
 name of Fairman visiting Cairo, and he and I were not 
 on good terms. One afternoon on returning from riding I 
 stopped at my restaurant and went in to dinner just as 
 I was, dressed in my undress uniform, and carrying in my 
 hand a light riding-whip. I took my seat at a table where 
 Colonels Chaille-Long and Mason were dining, and after 
 I got through I walked out of the room, and in the corridor 
 met Mr. Fairman, who made a remark at which I took 
 offense, and, losing my temper, I struck him with the whip. 
 Mr. Fairman told me he would send his seconds to me and 
 we separated. But on reflection he decided not to chal- 
 lenge me. 
 
 Now, it so happened that Mr. Fairman was an acquaint- 
 ance of the Duke of Hamilton and his party, and shortly 
 after our affray he was seated at a table with them in the 
 garden in front of the Villa Shubra (a place where prome- 
 naders could stop for refreshments), and who should enter 
 the grounds but Major-General Mott. Mott knew the duke 
 and saluted him as he was passing the table where the latter 
 was seated with his friends. The duke courteously invited 
 Mott to join his party, but Mott replied that he would do 
 so with pleasure if it were not for the fact that Mr. Fairman 
 was present. The duke was naturally offended and asked 
 for an explanation. Mott replied that "under no circum- 
 stances would he sit at the same table with a man who had 
 been publicly horsewhipped and had not resented it." The 
 words were no sooner out of Mott's mouth than a sporty 
 young baronet in the party jumped to his feet and de- 
 manded Mott's card, saying that he would send his seconds 
 to him, and selected the duke for one of them. The duke 
 carried the demand for an apology or satisfaction to Mott, 
 
The Duel that did not come off 309 
 
 and the latter referred him to me as his friend who would 
 carry on the negotiations. The duke, when he called on me, 
 made himself so agreeable that I took quite a fancy to him 
 and tried to point out a way by which the matter might be 
 dropped without having recourse to a hostile meeting. I be- 
 came so confidential with him that I told him his young 
 friend would not have a ghost of a chance for his life if ever 
 he went on the field with General Mott, who, besides having 
 fought several duels and killed one man to my knowledge, 
 was a magnificent swordsman and a dead shot with pistols, 
 and furthermore it was useless to expect an apology from 
 him. But my remarks did not seem at all to dismay the 
 duke, and as no apology could be had, the only other thing 
 to do was to arrange the details for a hostile meeting. These 
 we agreed upon in the most amicable spirit. We were to 
 go to Alexandria and the party was to stop at the H5tel 
 Abbatt on the plaza, and the next morning at daylight 
 repair to a cemetery in the suburbs (the one where one of 
 the Apostles is supposed to be buried), and there let our 
 principals blaze away at each other. 
 
 At daylight on the morning on which the duel was ex- 
 pected to take place, General Mott and myself, carrying 
 a case of dueling pistols, entered the office of the hotel and 
 asked the night clerk if the duke and his party had yet been 
 called, when to our amazement the sleepy clerk replied that 
 they had left the hotel at 2 a.m. and gone aboard their yacht 
 and were probably by that time far out at sea! 
 
 Instead of letting the matter rest there, against my ad- 
 vice General Mott wrote a letter to the London papers in 
 which he particularly excoriated the Duke of Hamilton, 
 and brought down upon himself a torrent of abuse. The 
 Duke of Hamilton took no notice of him, but truth compels 
 me to state that I afterwards heard that the young baronet 
 was anxious to fight and that the duke, having no intention 
 whatever of allowing him to be perforated by Mott's leaden 
 pellet, had forcibly carried him away. 
 
CHAPTER XXXVI 
 
 The Franco- Prussian War — Apply for leave to go to France — Wrecked — 
 Paris in sackcloth and ashes — A generous Jew. 
 
 When the Franco- Prussian War was at its height several 
 of the American officers, among them myself, through the 
 Khedive requested permission to go to France for the 
 purpose of studying our profession on the battle-fields. The 
 answer came back that the Imperial Government would be 
 pleased to receive a small number of native Egyptian offi- 
 cers, but that they did not care to have the Americans in 
 His Highness's service. I had a great desire to see what was 
 going on, so I applied for leave of absence, which was granted 
 me, and I took passage for Marseilles in a little bark be- 
 cause it was a cheap way of making the voyage, and like 
 everything else I have found in this life that was cheap — 
 it was "bum." 
 
 The Tigre was supposed to be a steamer. I don't know 
 how many "cat" power her engine was said to have had, 
 but I do know that it broke down whenever it felt like it. 
 She was crowded with the usual polyglot assemblage of 
 passengers of all Oriental nations commonly found aboard 
 ships in the eastern Mediterranean, many of them — in fact 
 whole families — camping on the upper deck for economical 
 reasons. The filth of the vessel was indescribable. I shared 
 my stateroom with a young Jew who spoke several lan- 
 guages and was both highly educated and refined. All went 
 well enough until after we passed through- the Strait of 
 Bonifacio and struck the mistral, which was blowing a gale. 
 We were off the lies de Hier on the French coast, bucking 
 the heavy sea without making any headway, when our 
 miserable little coffee-mill of an engine broke down. The 
 ship was hastily put under sail, and thinking that she was 
 riding the seas nicely I turned into my bunk and went to 
 
Wrecked 31 1 
 
 sleep, only to be suddenly awakened some time in the middle 
 watch by an awful crash. Rushing on deck I found that 
 both fore and mainmast had gone by the board. Nearly 
 every man on deck had appointed himself captain and was 
 frantically bellowing orders to which no one else paid the 
 slightest attention. There was a perfect Babel of tongues at 
 work. The spars, held by their rigging, were acting as bat- 
 tering-rams against the wooden sides of the ship, and it was 
 evident that she would not be able to stand the punishment 
 for very long. The passengers rushed for the boat davits 
 and began to lower the boats, a difficult feat even for sailors 
 to perform in such a seaway. As the boats touched the 
 water the poor wretches, like a frightened flock of sheep, 
 leaped over the side, more alighting in the sea than in the 
 boats, sufficient numbers, however, landing in them to 
 cause them to swamp. But strange to say several of them 
 got away and reached the shore which was only a few miles 
 away. 
 
 My roommate, Mr. Suarez, made several starts for the 
 boats, but I dissuaded him. When day broke the Tigre was 
 sinking fast by the stern, but fortunately both sea and wind 
 had gone down. There was a very small dinghy, used as a 
 market boat in port, fastened bottom up on the poop deck, 
 and on this boat I had had my eyes fastened for some time, 
 knowing that no one else would think of taking her. When 
 at daylight Mr. Suarez and I found ourselves alone on the 
 fast-sinking bark, I turned this little boat over and found 
 her oars fastened under the thwarts. The bow of the Tigre 
 was standing high out of the water and her taffrail was 
 submerged, so without difficulty I launched our pygmy 
 craft and leaped into her as she glided into the water, but 
 alas! my pocketbook with every sovereign I possessed was 
 in my breast-pocket and as I jumped into the boat I heard 
 it go kerchunk into the sea. I paddled back to the wreck for 
 my companion, and to my surprise found that he had gone 
 back to the cabin and brought up a very light steamer 
 
312 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 trunk of mine, but the water was so deep he had not been 
 able to save anything of his own. Without further adven- 
 ture we rowed to the island and from there were taken to 
 La Ciotat on the mainland and then proceeded to Mar- 
 seilles by rail, Mr. Suarez having kindly purchased a ticket 
 for me as well as for himself. 
 
 At Marseilles we could form no idea of the condition of 
 the interior of France, as the heavy hand of war had not 
 reached that far south, and hearing that trains were running 
 through to Paris we started for that once gay capital, only 
 to find that we had been misinformed and that we had to 
 undergo many vexatious delays before arriving there. We 
 soon entered the country still occupied by the Germans, 
 although the war was over. They had their sentries at all 
 the railway stations, and I was disgusted at the brutal and 
 overbearing manner they showed toward the civilian popu- 
 lation. Instead of commanding a Frenchman to halt, they 
 would merely strike him a fearful blow in the pit of his 
 stomach with the butt of a musket ; even when these poor 
 people only wanted to approach a train for the purpose of 
 making inquiries about missing friends or relatives. 
 
 It was in the early spring of 1 87 1 when we entered Paris 
 in one of the first trains that had arrived in that city since 
 the suppression of the Commune. It was dark when we 
 detrained and when we asked for a cab we were laughed 
 at; the porter asked of what use a cab would be since all 
 the horses had been eaten. We were also told that all the 
 famous hotels whose names we remembered had been con- 
 verted into hospitals. Finally a man agreed to pilot us to 
 a small hotel on the Boulevard Montmartre where we could 
 get accommodations and we followed him. 
 
 The next morning early I wrote to friends in England 
 telling them of the loss of my pocketbook and asking them 
 to send me enough money to enable me to return to Egypt, 
 but the mails were disorganized and I never heard whether 
 or not they had received my letter. After I had finished 
 
Paris in Sackcloth and Ashes 313 
 
 my breakfast I took a walk, passing through the once 
 crowded boulevards des Italiens, des Capucines, and la 
 rue Royale without meeting a living soul. The once mag- 
 nificent plate-glass show windows which were not smashed 
 were perforated with bullet holes so close together that it 
 would have been impossible to put one's hand on a spot that 
 a bullet had not gone through. The Palace of the Tuileries 
 was an ugly mass of smouldering ruins with the smoke still 
 ascending from it, and the fronts of the houses on the rue 
 de Rivoli, opposite the Palace of the Louvre, were lying in 
 the street. In some of the houses the interior of the bed- 
 rooms could be plainly seen, looking as though their former 
 occupants had only just stepped out of them for a moment. 
 I walked down the Champs Elys6es where once the fountains 
 and the trees had been so beautiful, but there was now not 
 even a bush or shrub to relieve the desolation which had 
 been wrought by the hands of vandals. I proceeded on 
 through the Arc de I'Etoile to the edge of a treeless desert 
 once known as the Bois de Boulogne, one of the most beauti- 
 ful parks in the world. Returning I passed through the 
 Place Vend6me and saw its beautiful column, broken into 
 several pieces, lying on the ground. I had seen enough. 
 Could this be the gay and debonnaire Paris with the gilded 
 and mirrored pleasure places and the laughing throngs I 
 had seen only two short years previously? 
 
 That was a gloomy and a weary week I spent in Paris, 
 and when its end came I was still without funds and the 
 landlord was scowling at me. I had never laid eyes on my 
 companion in the shipwreck since the night of my arrival! 
 He was still in Paris and stopping at the same house, but I 
 came to the conclusion that he was avoiding me. Hopeless 
 and expecting to be put out on the street, I went up to my 
 room one night after wandering for hours about the deserted 
 streets and saw what I supposed was a notice to leave pinned 
 on the pincushion. Wearily opening the envelope, the 
 contents of which I thought I already knew, I was greatly 
 
314 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 delighted to find that I was mistaken and that it contained 
 a note from Mr. Suarez telling me that he regretted that 
 business had prevented him from seeing me, and directing 
 me to take an enclosed note to a friend of his, a banker, who 
 would supply me with quite a large sum of money which I 
 could return at my convenience! He wound up the note by 
 saying that he was compelled to leave hurriedly that night. 
 The banker gave me the money, but said that Mr. Suarez 
 had left no address, as he expected to return to Paris in a 
 few days, but that as he knew my address in Egypt he 
 would write to me. I have never seen or heard from that 
 generous Jew from that day to this. 
 
 It is not necessary for me to say that I left Paris as 
 quickly as possible and returned to Egypt where I resumed 
 my uncongenial military duties. 
 
CHAPTER XXXVII 
 
 Return to America — Tired of the Egyptian service, but the Khedive declines 
 to allow me to resign — Grants me a furlough with permission to go home — 
 Determine again to become a farmer — "Woe to them that go down to 
 Egypt for help; and stay on horses" — Columbia, South Carolina — Become 
 lord and master of the great Hampton plantation — A bachelor's menage 
 and appetite — A lively fox hunt in which the wily Carpetbag Government 
 is run to cover — Matches only cost five cents a box — Trial Justice Sam 
 Thompson. 
 
 Early in 1872 it became very evident to me that there 
 was no future for the American officers in Egypt, and many 
 of the others thought as I did, but few of them had any very 
 bright prospects to look forward to if they returned home. 
 I determined to chance it, knowing that I could always turn 
 to that last resort of the navy man and become a farmer. 
 Land was plentiful and cheap where I came from. 
 
 I was agreeably surprised to find that the Khedive did not 
 want to let me go, saying that I was only a homesick boy 
 and that he would allow me a six months' furlough instead 
 of accepting my resignation. I assured him that I would not 
 come back, but he thought differently and advised me to 
 accept the furlough, saying that if at its expiration I was 
 still of the same mind he would then accept my resignation. 
 So I bade farewell to Egypt and went to Liverpool, where 
 I took ship for New York and was delighted to find among 
 the passengers Clarence Cary and Frank Dawson, two of my 
 best friends, and comrades in the Confederate Navy. 
 
 I had a letter from my friend, Mr. Edward Markoe 
 Wright, asking me to come to his house immediately on my 
 arrival in New York, and landing in that port very early 
 in the morning I waited until I thought the family were up 
 and then went there. While waiting for my host to come down 
 I opened a Bible which was lying on a table and the first 
 words that caught my eye was the commencement of the 
 thirty-first chapter of Isaiah: "Woe to them that go down 
 
31 6 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 to Egypt for help; and stay on horses," etc. I had not seen 
 a Bible for a very long time, but this verse was so apt that 
 I had no curiosity to read any further for fear that it might 
 become even more personal. Arriving in Charleston, South 
 Carolina, although Mr. Trenholm advised me against the 
 venture, I managed to persuade him to let me have the 
 grand old Hampton plantation in exchange for some stocks 
 I had in railroads and a cotton manufactory. The property 
 comprised several thousand acres and was situated on the 
 Congaree River, four miles below Columbia, the capital of 
 the State. There was a new ten-room house which had been 
 recently erected on the place and a huge barn capable of 
 stabling a hundred animals. The avenue, a mile long, lead- 
 ing from the public road to the house, was lined by huge oak 
 trees whose limbs formed a perfect Gothic arch the whole 
 distance. One of my little nephews the first time he passed 
 through it, in a subdued whisper said, " It feels like a church, 
 does it not?" Alas, that wonderful avenue has long since 
 been turned into cordwood and burned. 
 
 The place was so large that there were five separate and 
 distinct villages or negro settlements on it. My grand- 
 father, writing an account of a visit he had paid General 
 Hampton in 1798, says that he "saw one hundred ploughs 
 going at the same time in one field." Of course these were the 
 little one-horse ploughs commonly used in the South until 
 many years after the Civil War, but it goes to show how 
 enormous was the size of the fields. 
 
 I set up housekeeping at Hampton and at first my menage 
 was as lonely as it was unique. I had only one servant, 
 Maum Margaret, a huge black woman somewhat past the 
 middle age ; she must have weighed at least two hundred and 
 fifty pounds, and she had only ten children. She cooked for 
 me and made my bed, and when dark approached she 
 returned to her cabin and her family. Maum Margaret 
 always carried a huge basket, both going and coming, and 
 when my bills came in for the first month's expenses I felt 
 
The Carpetbag Government 317 
 
 that I had discovered a clue to the mystery of the basket. 
 According to the grocer's bill, besides the game I had killed, 
 and the fish, chickens, and fresh meat that I had bought, in 
 a little over four weeks I had eaten fifty pounds of bacon, 
 eleven hams, three barrels of flour, and a lot of canned 
 things, and still I weighed at that time only a hundred and 
 forty-five pounds! 
 
 The house was surrounded by forest trees, and the nights 
 were very lonely, my only companions being an ugly-looking 
 bulldog and a hound. I was the only white man on the 
 place and there were hundreds of ignorant negroes, many of 
 them lawless and fast reverting to barbarism. It was im- 
 possible to obtain a conviction against one of them for any 
 crime, as the negro trial justice was dependent upon his fees 
 for his livelihood, and it was well known that a white man 
 would pay rather than go to jail and that a negro would not. 
 
 When I had left South Carolina three years before it was 
 under martial law; now the experiment of the Reconstruc- 
 tion, which ought to have been called the "destruction," was 
 in full sway. Franklin J. Moses was governor, and the help- 
 less whites were compelled to submit to outrages by the 
 presence of United States troops who were there to see that 
 we did not run amuck among the carpetbaggers and scal- 
 awags. The latter name was applied to Southern men who 
 had joined with the carpetbaggers in plundering their fellow 
 citizens. While these thieves lived in luxury their lives must 
 have been mentally very uncomfortable, for they well knew 
 that if the troops should be removed for a moment their 
 lives would pay the penalty of their outrages. But the swag 
 was so rich that not even fear for their lives could induce them 
 to let go even after they had accumulated riches beyond 
 their most extravagant dreams. Their only safeguard was 
 the soldiers, and the regular officers had such a contempt for 
 them that they would hold no social intercourse with them, 
 and the privates hated the negroes with a bitter hatred and 
 took no pains to disguise their feelings. 
 
3i8 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 Moses did not belong to the low class of whites, as has 
 often been represented ; on the contrary, he was one of that 
 class of Jews which had always stood high in the estimation 
 of their fellow citizens and he had married into a most ex- 
 cellent family. He was an officer in one of the regular South 
 Carolina regiments and had an excellent record in the Con- 
 federate Army. On one occasion when the flag was shot 
 away at Fort Sumter, under a heavy fire he climbed the 
 flagstaff and replaced it. Why he should have pursued the 
 course he did is incomprehensible. I first saw him under 
 very ludicrous circumstances. I had known from childhood 
 Colonel Black, who commanded the Eighteenth Infantry, 
 the United States regiment stationed at Columbia to keep 
 us "rebs" in order, and I was on the most friendly terms 
 with all the officers of the command than whom a higher- 
 toned set of gentlemen it was never my good fortune to 
 meet. Among the younger officers was a Lieutenant Todd, 
 from Kentucky, who, like all his countrymen, was very fond 
 of fox hunting. Riding by the barracks one afternoon Lieu- 
 tenant Todd stopped me and asked if I could not get up a 
 fox hunt for that night, as the moon was full and it would be 
 a great night for a chase. I agreed with him and told him if 
 he would notify the other officers, I would go back to the 
 club and tell my friends that there was to be a hunt and then 
 go and see some of the planters who had hounds, and that 
 I would meet them at the Lexington County end of the 
 bridge which spanned the Congaree. 
 
 When I arrived at the rendezvous with the dogs I found 
 some thirty or forty hunters assembled and each one seemed 
 armed with a pocket flask. They were very busily engaged 
 in renewing the assurances of their highest consideration 
 for one another, at the same time whooping and yelling like 
 demons. I begged them to keep quiet, as not only would 
 the noise run every fox out of the county, but it would also 
 excite the dogs who had not been hunted for some time and 
 were very fresh. Silence was obtained for a few minutes and 
 
A Lively Fox Hunt 319 
 
 I uncoupled the hounds and started the hunt. The full moon 
 was shining brightly on the white sandy soil, and except 
 where the shadows of the lofty yellow pine trees fell, it was 
 as light as day. The dogs had hardly begun the hunt for a 
 trail when unfortunately a puppy in the pack spied a stray 
 cur and gave tongue, followed by the rest in full cry. The 
 men put spurs to their horses, their yells drowning the music 
 of the pack. I had seen the cur they were chasing, but I was 
 helpless to stop either dogs or men ; so I blew my horn in 
 vain for some time, and then, knowing that as soon as the 
 dogs caught the cur, they would make their way across the 
 bridge and go to a farm in the sand hills on the other side of 
 Columbia, I rode to the bridge and asked the man in charge 
 of it if he had seen a pack of dogs cross. He told me that he 
 had, and also about fifty crazy men after them. Passing by 
 the barracks on my way to the farm where I supposed I 
 would find the dogs, I was hailed by an officer who was cross- 
 ing the parade ground. He asked me to dismount and said 
 that it was a very good joke, and had been very well played, 
 but the time for stopping it had come, as he had no idea of 
 keeping the whole regiment under arms all night for my 
 amusement, and that, anyhow, Colonel Black was in the 
 officer of the day's office and would like to see me. The 
 room was dimly lighted, and at first I saw no one but the 
 colonel, who was seated at a table on which there was a 
 lamp. Calling me by my first name, he asked since when 
 I had become a member of the Ku Klux Klan. Before an- 
 swering I glanced around the room and to my astonishment 
 beheld the governor and his cabinet seated in line against 
 the wall. I laughingly replied to the colonel's inquiry by 
 saying that if I was a Ku Klux there were about fourteen 
 officers of the Eighteenth Infantry who belonged to my 
 particular band; and just then the disappointed huntsmen 
 trooped in, and not seeing their colonel at first, began to 
 berate me for letting the dogs get away. Moses and the 
 lieutenant-governor, the secretary of state, the treasurer, 
 
320 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 comptroller, adjutant-general and superintendent of public 
 education arose and sneaked out into the night. 
 
 "The wicked flee when no man pursueth." The next 
 morning we heard the explanation of the carpetbaggers' 
 scare. It seems that when the hunting party gathered in the 
 woods at the end of the bridge, and were making so much 
 noise, an old negro woman hastened across the river and 
 warned the governor that hundreds of Ku Klux were gather- 
 ing for an attack on the state officials. Moses sent out a 
 trusted scout who, when he had got halfway across the 
 river, took fright, and returning reported that thousands of 
 the white-sheeted devils were assembled and only waiting 
 for the signal to annihilate every white Republican in the 
 capital. Moses sent the warning to his friends, and they 
 all fled to the barracks for protection, their flight being 
 accelerated by the yells of the sportsmen trying to head 
 the dogs as they scampered through the streets of the city. 
 Those were sad days for Columbia, but the natives had at 
 least one week's merriment over this escapade. 
 
 The first time I came into conflict with the carpetbaggers 
 was one day when Maum Margaret informed me that she 
 wanted to get through her work early, as there was to be a 
 "speaking" and she wished to attend it. I asked where the 
 meeting was to take place and she informed me that the 
 white man (I never heard a negro call a carpetbagger a 
 gentleman) was having my property moved out of one of my 
 barns for the purpose, as it was raining. The man was a 
 candidate for the legislature, and I determined to attend 
 the meeting. The fellow was uneducated and mouthy. I 
 heard him tell those ignorant blacks that "the land be- 
 longed to them by rights, as their labor had made it what it 
 was, and the only way to get rid of the rebel landlord was 
 to tax him out of the country, and that if they would vote 
 for him he would get a law passed to effect that desirable 
 result"; and then he went on to say that if we could not 
 be got rid of in that way, then they ought to burn us out — 
 
Trial Justice Sam Thompson 321 
 
 a box of matches only cost five cents and any child could 
 strike one. At this I jumped on the improvised speaker's 
 stand and grabbed him by the collar and hustled him out of 
 the building and to the public road, where I faced him in 
 the direction of Columbia, and telling him if he ever dared 
 put his foot on my property again I would fill him full of 
 lead, I gave him a kick where I thought it would do the 
 most good and started him on his way. Not a single negro 
 had followed us, so naturally there were no witnesses, but 
 the next day I was served with a warrant charging me with 
 assault, and when the trial came off the scoundrel had 
 dozens of witnesses, negroes who lived in my houses and 
 who were dependent on my employment for their means 
 of subsistence, to testify against me. 
 
 The trial justice was a negro by the name of Sam Thomp- 
 son. He had been a slave of my brother-in-law, Dr. Alfred 
 Wallace, and when they were boys Dr. Wallace had amused 
 himself by teaching Sam to read. This was the judge before 
 whom I was tried and fined fifty dollars, which of course I 
 paid rather than go to jail, and the justice pocketed the 
 fines and fees. Seeing how easy it was to get it out of me, 
 Sam ever afterwards looked to me for a regular monthly 
 contribution; in fact, I was before him so often that we 
 became quite intimate. 
 
 Another candidate appeared a few days afterwards. This 
 one was a common cornfield negro who appealed for votes 
 on the ground that if he was elected he would have two laws 
 enacted, one for the whites and another for the colored folks; 
 of course the one for the negroes would be better than the 
 one for the whites, but he never intimated what the laws 
 were to be. A few days after this man made his appearance 
 on the place I caught him, axe in hand, attempting to cut 
 down one of the magnificent oaks in the avenue. I not only 
 ordered him to desist, but threatened him with personal 
 violence if he struck the tree another blow. He said he 
 would see if any white man could talk to him that way, 
 
322 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 and the next day I was again fined for assault. I was be- 
 coming a regular gold mine for Sam Thompson, the trial 
 justice. 
 
 My only milch cow, which had a young calf, was killed, 
 skinned, and butchered in the middle of the night within 
 three hundred yards of my house. I traced the hide to a 
 negro's house and recovered it. One of the women in the 
 house had me arrested and fined for trespass. The fact 
 that it was my house and that she paid me no rent for it 
 did n't "cut any ice." 
 
 When I went to the Hampton plantation I had an idea 
 of helping these people, — there were several hundred of 
 them, — and while I could give employment only to some 
 fifteen or twenty, I gave all of them permission, not only to 
 cut as much firewood as they needed out of the forest, but 
 also to sell wood to the inhabitants of Columbia, and for 
 this they were to pay me nothing. My reward was that 
 when the cold weather came, instead of going out and cut- 
 ting wood they ripped the planks from the interior of my 
 houses and burned them, giving as an excuse that it was 
 too far to the woods situated some four or five hundred 
 yards away. 
 
CHAPTER XXXVIII 
 
 The name Galapagos inspires the preacher — I take Northern friends to a 
 prayer meeting — " Getting glory " — A chicken thief and a bulldog get hitched 
 together — Death of Hector as a consequence — The preponderance of the 
 evidence — Ball toilets in the middle of the day and champagne orgies on 
 the main street — The comptroller of the State opens fire on the house of 
 Colonel Black, U.S.A., the commandant — Moses, promised immunity, gives 
 testimony in the fraudulent bond case — Questions of personal privilege — 
 Nancy Eliot. 
 
 My mother and unmarried sister came to stay with me 
 at Hampton bringing with them my little nephew Howell 
 Morgan, whose father had died a prisoner of war on John- 
 son's Island, and after their arrival there was a change in 
 my menage. Maum Margaret was discharged on the score 
 of economy, and sad to say, several of her grown sons and 
 daughters had to return to the fields and work for their 
 bacon and hominy. A new cook and a maid were installed, 
 and when we had company we commandeered "Monday," 
 the head preacher on the place, who had once been a house 
 servant before he found preaching more lucrative. It is 
 hardly necessary to say that Monday was the biggest old 
 scoundrel in the neighborhood. 
 
 Hampton was the camp-meeting place where thousands 
 of negroes assembled for an annual orgy, and Monday was 
 getting his flock into condition for the great event. At the 
 camp-meeting grounds an immense arbor of pine boughs 
 had been erected and rough seats or benches installed. In 
 Monday's flock were two girls, as black as ebony, named 
 Blanche and Pearl, and had they been white they un- 
 doubtedly would have made a sensation on the stage. 
 
 Two of my Northern friends came to see me on my prom- 
 ise that I would give them some good shooting, which, of 
 course, I could do, as the place in those days was overrun 
 with quail and rabbits. I wanted to amuse them and deter- 
 mined to take them to my private theater, namely, a prayer 
 
 \ 
 
324 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 meeting at the camp-ground. I confided my intention to 
 Monday and told him that there was a dollar in it for him if 
 he would work his congregation up in proper style, and a 
 half-dollar each to Blanche and Pearl if they "got glory" 
 in extra good form. Monday assured me I should be more 
 than satisfied. 
 
 At dinner we had some mock-turtle soup and the conver- 
 sation turned to turtles. I remarked that in the Galapagos 
 Islands turtles had been captured which weighed a ton and 
 more, and the others had big turtle yarns to spin also. 
 Every time the name Galapagos was mentioned I could see 
 Monday's eyes fairly bulge. He was waiting on table, and 
 knowing the negro's love for strange-sounding words which 
 he did not understand, I rather suspected that there would 
 be echoes from that one. After we had finished dinner and 
 smoked our cigars, I proposed a visit to the prayer meeting. 
 We approached the place from behind where the preacher 
 was exhorting, and as we arrived we heard Monday from 
 his rough pine board pulpit say: " My brederin, in dat great 
 day when de angel ob de Lord come down and say 'Galli- 
 pagos! GalHpagos! Galllpagos!' what den is you goin' to 
 say?" And a roar came back from the congregation, 
 "GalHpagos! Lord, GalHpagos!" 
 
 As Monday went on exhorting, moans became more and 
 more frequent, interspersed with shouts of "Glory!" and 
 "I gettin* glory!" But the eyes of most of the spectators 
 were fixed upon Blanche and Pearl, who slowly arose and 
 began to move their feet, at first with great deliberation, 
 and then with increasing speed while announcing in a 
 most convincing manner that they were "gettin' glory." 
 This went on until their bodies were writhing in the most 
 wonderful contortions accompanied by occasional extra- 
 ordinary leaps into the air, while uttering wild shrieks and 
 blasphemies which I will not pain the reader by repeating. 
 The performance ended by these girls falling to the ground 
 in a fit and remaining there, foaming at the mouth, while 
 
A Chicken Thief and a Bulldog 325 
 
 their bodies and limbs were as rigid as iron bars. Then they 
 were taken up by men who lifted them by their heads and 
 heels, and still rigid they were carried out to where water 
 could be poured over them until they revived, and in a few 
 minutes they were ready for another exhibition. 
 
 Although there were some notoriously bad characters 
 living on the place, I had no fear of their entering the house, 
 but they would pilfer grain from the barn and rob the hen- 
 roost. I slept on the lower floor and my bulldog stayed in 
 my bedroom at night, and when any unusual noise occurred 
 outside he would give me notice and I would open a window, 
 out of which he would jump. If I heard any one yell I knew 
 somebody was there, and I would go out and disengage 
 Hector from him. 
 
 There was a negro by the name of Renty who had served 
 one or more terms in the penitentiary and who gave me a 
 great deal of trouble. Nominally he lived in one of my 
 houses, but as there were always warrants out for him, he 
 spent most of his time hidden in a swamp, where his wife, a 
 most excellent and hard-working woman, kept him supplied 
 with food. 
 
 One night the bulldog awakened me and, as usual, I let 
 him out of the window, and soon heard moans of "Oh, my 
 God! Oh, my God!" Taking a lantern with me I went to 
 the chicken-house and found that Renty had used the 
 open slats out of which it was built for a ladder and had 
 climbed as high as possible, and dangling from his trousers 
 was Hector, swinging like a pendulum. I persuaded Renty 
 to come down, and when he reached the ground he suggested 
 that I should get a chisel and hatchet and pry the dog loose. 
 But I explained to Renty that since emancipation an 
 English bulldog was worth a great deal more money to me 
 than a free nigger, but offered a compromise: if he would 
 remain perfectly still I would go into the house and get 
 something that would make Hector let go. Procuring a 
 handful of smoking tobacco I returned and sprinkled it on 
 
326 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 the dog's nose which caused him to sneeze, and Renty was 
 freed from his viselike teeth. Three days after Hector was 
 a dead dog, a piece of meat well sprinkled with powdered 
 glass having been placed where the poor beast was sure to 
 find it. 
 
 Shortly after Hector's tragic death, I heard one night 
 the whinny of a horse in my barn, and I got up and went 
 to investigate its cause. I found backed up against the 
 open barn door a one-horse spring wagon half loaded with 
 my cow peas, and coming out of the door was my old 
 friend Renty with a full bushel basket on his shoulder. 
 He dropped the basket on seeing me and seemed in mor- 
 tal terror that I was going to kill him, but I soon reas- 
 sured the scoundrel, and ordered him to saddle a horse for 
 me. It was between three and four o'clock in the morning 
 and there was not as yet a soul stirring on the plantation. I 
 made Renty mount his wagon and escorted him to Colum- 
 bia. It was shortly after daylight when we arrived at the 
 trial justice's office and we had not met a single human 
 being on the way. We sat on the steps until Judge Sam 
 Thompson opened his court at nine o'clock. I then made 
 my charge against Renty and called attention to the cow 
 peas in the wagon as my proof. The judge took Renty 
 aside, and after some conversation, which I could not over- 
 hear, "His Honor" informed me that he could not hear the 
 case until one o'clock in the afternoon, and that in the mean 
 time he would be responsible for the prisoner. 
 
 When I returned to the court I found some fifteen or 
 twenty negroes from the plantation assembled in the court- 
 room ready to testify as witnesses. Renty took the stand 
 himself and swore that he had never been in that barn in his 
 life, — despite the fact that he had been a slave of the 
 Hamptons and afterwards of the Trenholms, — not even 
 in corn-shucking times when all the hands were gathered 
 there. He could not explain how this was, but stuck to his 
 story. Next he put a little girl on the stand who swore that 
 
The Preponderance of the Evidence 327 
 
 she was his niece and was only eleven years of age. She also 
 swore that her uncle had never been in the barn in his life. 
 I asked her if she understood the nature of an oath, and she 
 replied that the "debbil" would get her if she did not tell 
 the truth. I then asked her to be careful about her answer 
 to a question I would ask her. I told her that her uncle had 
 sworn that he was thirty-seven years of age, and asked her 
 if she was willing to swear that her uncle had never been 
 in the barn during the twenty-six years that he had lived 
 on that place before she was born; and she replied, "I swear 
 to God he never was!" I turned to the judge and said, 
 "Sam, you see what kind of a story this is." His Honor put 
 on a solemn expression and replied, " I can't help it, suh, de 
 preponderance ob de ebidence is agin you." 
 
 But that was not all. The judge called Renty to him, and 
 after a whispered conference, Renty entered a charge of 
 assault against me ! And his witnesses all swore to the same 
 story, namely, that Renty was driving his cart peaceably 
 in the avenue and that I had come up on horseback and 
 dragged him off his wagon and beat him in a most shameful 
 manner. I realized at once the helplessness of my situation 
 and became reckless. "Sam!" I shouted to the judge, "did 
 you ever hear that I was a strong man?" "Yes," suavely 
 replied His Ebony Honor: "everybody knows you is double- 
 jinted." "Well," I said, "I want you to take a good look 
 at Renty's face now and see how differently it will look after 
 I drive him one from the shoulder." And with that I drew 
 back to strike, but Renty was too quick for me, and with a 
 wild cry of " Jedge, for God's sake, don't let him do it! " 
 he dived under the table at which the judge was seated. It 
 sounds very funny now, but it cost me fifty dollars then, 
 and money was very scarce in South Carolina at that time. 
 
 In those days strange sights could be witnessed in the 
 streets of Columbia at any time. I remember — not only 
 once, but on several occasions — seeing a handsome landau 
 drawn by a spanking pair of high-stepping Kentucky horses 
 
328 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 and containing four negro wenches arrayed in low-neck and 
 short-sleeved dresses, their black bosoms and arms covered 
 with real jewels in the middle of the day, draw up in front 
 of a barroom on Main Street where the wives and daughters 
 of the old and impoverished aristocracy did their shopping. 
 Out of the saloon would come the governor accompanied by 
 several high state officials, followed by a servant bearing 
 a waiter on which was champagne and glasses, and right 
 there on the public sidewalk enter into a perfect orgy with 
 the dusky belles. 
 
 White carpetbaggers seemed to have so much money that 
 they did not know what to do with it. I have seen one of 
 them walk into a drinking saloon by himself and ostenta- 
 tiously order a quart bottle of champagne, take one glass 
 of it, and carelessly throw a ten- dollar bill on the counter 
 and tell the barkeeper to keep the change; and this in a 
 community where people bred in affluence were suffering 
 for the very necessities of life. 
 
 The salary of the comptroller was eighteen hundred dol- 
 lars a year. Dr. Nagle, who held the office, had arrived in 
 Columbia literally in rags. In the first year of his incum- 
 bency — out of his salary, of course — he bought a fine 
 house and a carriage and horses with gold-mounted harness 
 among other things, and incidentally built a bridge across 
 the Congaree River that must have cost thousands of dol- 
 lars. This worthy official, returning home one day while 
 drunk, caused quite a sensation, beating his wife unmer- 
 cifully, and she fled from the house and took refuge in the 
 home of Colonel Black, U.S.A., which was next door. 
 Whereupon Nagle, armed with a Winchester rifle, began to 
 pump lead through the sides of the commandant's frame 
 house. The soldiers of the Eighteenth Infantry, hearing 
 what was happening at the home of their beloved colonel, 
 came from the barracks on the run, determined to have 
 Nagle's gore, and tore down the picket fence in front of his 
 house, before their officers arrived and stopped them. 
 
The Fraudulent Bonds Case 329 
 
 Cardoza, a negro, was superintendent of public education, 
 and Purvis, a Philadelphia mulatto, was adjutant-general 
 of the State. These two men were considered by the natives 
 to be the most respectable members of the State Govern- 
 ment. A law was passed authorizing the issue of some twenty 
 millions of state bonds, and it was supposed that a large 
 number of fraudulent bonds were also printed. At all events, 
 when Hampton upset the carpetbag government, Parker, 
 the state treasurer, started a bonfire in his back yard which 
 made so much smoke that the fire engines turned out and 
 extinguished it, and to the amazement of the crowd which 
 had rapidly assembled it was discovered that it was state 
 bonds that he was burning. Parker was afterwards tried 
 and convicted. Ex-Governor Moses was promised immunity 
 if he would come back to the State and testify in the case, 
 and to the astonishment of the court he volunteered the 
 information that when he was speaker of the House of 
 Representatives he had signed more than eighteen hundred 
 thousand dollars of fraudulent pay certificates. The State 
 House was overrun with young negroes who were down on 
 the pay-rolls as "attaches" (they called themselves "taw- 
 cheeses"), and that may have accounted for some of the 
 money. 
 
 The legislative halls of South Carolina presented a spec- 
 tacle such as had never been seen before, and the like of 
 which, let us hope, will never be witnessed again. The 
 furnishings were very fine, especially the carpets and cus- 
 pidors ; the latter were charged to the State at eighteen dol- 
 lars each. The members were mostly negroes, as there was 
 not a sufficient number of carpetbaggers to fill all the 
 offices. The negro members from the upper part of the 
 State reveled in the use of long words which they generally 
 mispronounced, and those from the low country mostly 
 talked in the sea island and ricefield pidgin English called 
 "gulla," which is unintelligible to the stranger. For in- 
 stance, they call all males "she" and all females "he"; and 
 
330 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 if they want to ask if you hear, they say " Yedium" ; and 
 "Shum deh" is "Do you see it?" 
 
 When in session the legislature was as good as a circus. 
 I remember once, when one honorable member called an- 
 other honorable member "a liar," the offended Solon jumped 
 to his feet yelling: "?vlr. Speaker! I rises to a question of 
 pussonal privilege. I wants dat ricefield nigger to under- 
 stand dat I won't stand none ob his insinuendos agin me!" 
 
 General Worthington, who had been an officer in the 
 Union volunteer army, and who had been one of the pall- 
 bearers at the funeral of President Lincoln, came to South 
 Carolina immediately after he had been mustered out of 
 the service and found no difficulty in having himself elected 
 to Congress. One day he was busily engaged in lobbying a 
 bill through the legislature, and while holding a huge bunch 
 of greenbacks in one hand, which he occasionally waved 
 aloft as he passed from the seat of one member to that of 
 another, suddenly a negro jumped to his feet and claimed 
 the recognition of the Speaker on a question of privilege. 
 When asked to state it, he said he had just been informed 
 that General Worthington had given another member 
 twenty-five dollars for his vote on the bill, and he had only 
 given him, the protestor, five dollars. He wanted that 
 ''white man" to understand that his vote was worth as 
 much as that of any ricefield nigger from Santee or any other 
 part of the State ! In any State north of the Potomac this 
 brazen confession would have landed a member of the legis- 
 lature in the penitentiary, but in the legislative halls of 
 South Carolina it only caused a roar of laughter at the 
 expense of the cheap lawmaker. 
 
 The speaker of the House was a very highly educated and 
 able man, as black as a highly polished boot; some said that 
 he was a Jamaica negro who had been to school in England 
 and others insisted that he was a product of Harvard Uni- 
 versity. Be that as it may, he certainly was one of the most 
 brilliant orators I ever heard speak. His name was Eliot, 
 
Nancy Eliot 331 
 
 and he evidently had a susceptible heart, for in the midst of 
 his meteoric career of loot and pillage he fell desperately in 
 love with Nancy, the most beautiful mulatto girl in Colum- 
 bia. Nancy was the nursemaid for Mrs. Heyward's little 
 children, and although the Heywards, like all other aristo- 
 crats, had been impoverished by the war, and Nancy was 
 then free, not even the high wages offered by the carpet- 
 baggers could tempt her to leave those little children of whom 
 she was fond. But Eliot offered marriage, and the girl was 
 dazzled by the high position to which he proposed to raise 
 her, and tearfully she left the Heyward home to become the 
 proud wife of the wealthy speaker. Nancy had been brought 
 up among aristocrats and she knew how to do things. She 
 was no sooner married than she set up a handsome estab- 
 lishment, and she could be seen in full ball toilet, in the 
 middle of the day, with her neck and arms covered with 
 jewels, driving down Main Street. But besides the love 
 of finery Nancy had another side to her character. No- 
 thing could have induced her to stop in front of Mrs. Hey- 
 ward's house in that costume or in her carriage, but in the 
 cool of the afternoon, Nancy, arrayed in the neat cap and 
 apron of a nursemaid, would stop her carriage around the 
 corner from her former mistress's home, and alighting would 
 walk to the house and beg to be allowed to take the children 
 out. The people who had seen her in gala attire in the mid- 
 dle of the day would behold the strange spectacle of the 
 same Nancy, as demure as a novice, seated on the front seat 
 of her own landau, with the children occupying the back 
 seat. Everybody liked Nancy and her promenades with the 
 children were among the strange features of that strange 
 time. Nancy attended one of the inauguration balls In 
 Washington and was said to have been one of the most 
 beautifully gowned women of the occasion. 
 
CHAPTER XXXIX 
 
 Corrupt judiciary — Melton voted for Seymour and Blair, but bet his 
 money on Grant — Feud between Attorney-General Melton and Colonel 
 Montgomery in which Mr. Caldwell was killed and I was wounded. 
 
 The judiciary was as corrupt as the legislature — and 
 that is saying a great deal. An imported negro sat on the 
 supreme bench, his colleagues being white carpetbaggers. 
 There was talk about impeaching a negro judge of one of 
 the district courts in the lower part of the State, and Judge 
 Moses, an uncle of the governor, was actually impeached by 
 the piebald legislature because he got away with a large 
 amount of property belonging to a white widow and her 
 fatherless children while the estate was in the hands of the 
 court. The outrage was so flagrant that even the Govern- 
 ment at Washington took notice of it, and orders came from 
 the national capital that not only must such things stop, but 
 that more honest men must be elected to the judgeships at 
 the next election. Moses was only allowed thirteen days 
 to prepare for his defense. While walking on the street 
 one day, and longing for human sympathy, he met Major 
 Melton, a famous wit and likewise a stammerer. ** Major," 
 said the judge, "history does not record such an outrage as 
 a man being allowed only thirteen days to prepare for his 
 defense in a trial!" "Hold on, judge," replied Melton, 
 "the Bible, which is the foundation of history, records that 
 your people did n't allow our Saviour thirteen minutes!" 
 
 Major Melton was a native-born South Carolinian, a 
 lawyer by profession, and he had served throughout the 
 war as an officer in the Confederate Army. That he was a 
 dyed-in-the-wool Democrat, no one doubted until the time 
 came for the legislature to elect new district judges. Judi- 
 cial timber among the carpetbaggers was scarce. Washing- 
 ton was peremptory in its orders that a higher class of men 
 should be placed on the bench, and the legislature did not 
 
Feud between Melton and Montgomery 333 
 
 dare disobey its orders, as they full well knew that they 
 could not exist an hour if the Administration withdrew the 
 troops. So they issued an invitation to all lawyers who cared 
 to accept judgeships to appear before the legislature and 
 address that august body. To the amazement of everybody 
 Melton was one of those who appeared. He was a fine orator 
 and made them an eloquent Republican speech, and was 
 getting on finely until an old negro member interrupted him 
 with " Dat's all very fine, Mr. Melton, but who you vote for 
 last election?" The question brought Melton to his stam- 
 mering and he replied, " I vo-vo- voted for Sey-seymour and 
 Blair." A roar of laughter interspersed with jeers greeted 
 this confession, but Melton's voice soon dominated the 
 situation and he was heard to say, "Ho-ho-hold on; / bet 
 my money on Grant I " His quickness saved and elected him. 
 
 Afterwards Judge Melton was elected attorney-general 
 of the State and unfortunately became involved in a news- 
 paper controversy with Colonel Montgomery, the president 
 pro tern of the Senate, in which several vituperative letters 
 were exchanged. Montgomery was also a Southern man 
 who had become a Republican. The public were freely dis- 
 cussing the fiery correspondence and it was the general 
 opinion that a personal difficulty would result from it. 
 
 I was in Columbia one day when a particularly abusive 
 letter over the signature of Montgomery appeared in the 
 paper. I did not know the president pro tern of the Senate, 
 and had only a bowing acquaintance with Judge Melton. I 
 had attended to some business I had in the city and had 
 mounted my horse with the intention of returning to my 
 home, when on Main Street I met young Mr. Caldwell, a 
 cotton broker, and one of the few men in Columbia who had 
 any money. Mr. Caldwell hailed me and asked me to dis- 
 mount and accompany him to Pollock's Restaurant and 
 have luncheon with him. I laughingly declined, at the same 
 time pointing to the well-known horse I was riding, a 
 wicked thoroughbred stallion, who a short time before had 
 
334 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 killed a man. Mr. Caldwell called a negro man who was 
 standing on the corner and asked him if he would not hold 
 the horse, telling me that the man had formerly been the 
 horse's groom. I dismounted and walked down the street 
 with my host. 
 
 Arriving at the restaurant we saw that the long table in 
 the public dining-room was fully occupied, and Mr. Cald- 
 well proposed that we go upstairs into a private room, 
 where we had our meal and were just finishing it when a 
 servant brought Mr. Caldwell a card. Turning to me my 
 host asked if I had any objections to having Judge Melton 
 join us, as he, Mr. Caldwell, had something very particular 
 to tell him. Of course I said that I would be delighted to see 
 the judge, and he was ushered into the room. Mr. Caldwell 
 and the judge went over to a window and entered into a 
 conversation which did not last over three minutes. I never 
 learned what the subject discussed was. The three of us then 
 descended the stairs and Mr. Caldwell went to the cashier's 
 desk to pay the bill. Mr. Caldwell tendered a bank-note of 
 rather large denomination, and while we waited for the 
 change he asked me if I had ever seen Colonel Montgomery, 
 and on being told that I had not seen him to know him, 
 he pointed toward the dining-room, the door of which was 
 open, and said: "The man seated at the head of the table 
 is Captain Tupper, and the man on his right is the presi- 
 dent pro tern of the Senate." "Yes," I replied, "and there 
 goes Judge Melton into that room. Those men will surely 
 have a difficulty." Mr. Caldwell said, "I will stop him"; 
 and started for the door, I following. I was two or three 
 steps behind Caldwell, and as I entered the room I saw Mel- 
 ton with his open hand slap Montgomery in the face, and 
 the two clinched, upset the chair, and rolled on to the floor. 
 Instantly Captain Tupper rose from his chair, drawing it 
 back with his left hand as with his right he drew a revolver 
 from his hip pocket. He raised the weapon and fired, and as 
 he did so Caldwell threw up his arms and with a gasp fell 
 
A Shooting Affray 335 
 
 dead in my arms. I laid him gently on the floor and as I 
 raised my head I heard a bullet whistle near my left ear. 
 Thinking I had better hurry, I stepped over Caldwell's 
 dead body, and leaped over the two struggling men on 
 the floor while Tupper was again cocking his pistol with 
 his eyes now glued on Judge Melton, who was on top of 
 Montgomery. Tupper was standing between two windows, 
 and I felt certain that I could throw him out of one of them 
 before he could shoot Melton. I picked him up, and in an- 
 other instant I would have sailed him through the window, 
 when to my surprise he reached over my left shoulder and, 
 pressing the muzzle of his pistol against my back, just below 
 the point of the shoulder blade, he pulled the trigger. My 
 left arm fell limply by my side and Tupper dropped to the 
 floor, landing on his feet. With my right hand I grabbed the 
 wrist of the hand which still held the smoking pistol and it 
 dropped to the floor at my feet. I could easily have picked it 
 up and killed him with it, but I felt sure that I had my death 
 wound, and I did not wish to go before my Maker with the 
 blood of another on my hands ; so I compromised by telling 
 Tupper that before I went I was going to give him the worst 
 beating he ever had had. 
 
 While this was going on, the guests, who a moment before 
 had been enjoying their meal, were panic-stricken; those 
 who were near the door rushed through it, and the rest 
 sought safety under the tables. In such emergencies singu- 
 lar ideas sometimes flash through the mind. I could have 
 done all I wanted to do to Captain Tupper just as well where 
 I was as in any other place, but it seemed to me that I 
 wanted room, and plenty of room, so I threw my right arm 
 around his body, lifted him on to my hip, and carried him out 
 of a side door leading into an alley. I then dropped him on to 
 his feet and before he could recover from his surprise, I must 
 have struck him a pretty hard blow, for the back of his head 
 was the first thing that struck the bricks. I felt that I must 
 hurry, as my strength was fast failing, and I leaped upon 
 
336 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 his prostrate body. Tupper was a very handsome man and 
 seemed to have but one idea and that was to save his face, 
 which he covered with his hands. I would hit his hands so 
 hard that the pain would make him remove them for an 
 instant and before he could get them back I would smash 
 him again. Tupper was dressed in a white duck suit and I 
 in tweeds of a red and brown hue. The blood rushing out of 
 my wound saturated his white clothes and I must confess 
 he was a gory-looking object. Several negro policemen ar- 
 rived on the scene and began to club me. The sheriff came, 
 and after I was pulled off of Tupper, asked me if I was not 
 ashamed to beat a man in that way after I had shot him. 
 To my insistence that Tupper had killed Mr. Caldwell, and 
 that it was my blood which saturated his clothes, I could get 
 no credence. The sympathies of the representatives of the 
 law were all with Mr. Tupper, and the police dragged me 
 off to jail, and although I offered no resistance they twisted 
 my arms, especially the injured one, in a most brutal man- 
 ner — Judge Melton (who accompanied me) protesting all 
 the way against my being treated so roughly. It was some 
 little time after I reached the jail that the sheriff found out 
 the true state of affairs and arrested Captain Tupper. Mr. 
 Clarke, a lawyer at that time, and now the president of a 
 bank (I am glad to say he is still living — 191 6), came hur- 
 riedly to the jail in a carriage and took Judge Melton and 
 myself to the judge's home, where I was laid on a bed until 
 the doctors and their operating- table arrived, and then they 
 began to carve and probe me for the bullet. Three separate 
 times did they strap me to that leather-covered table during 
 the three months I was absolutely helpless, and they wanted 
 to dig into me a fourth time, but I protested against their 
 doing so until I could have a talk with Mr. Trenholm, who 
 at my request left his important affairs in Charleston to 
 come to me. I could not speak in a voice above a whisper, 
 but I managed to tell my best friend that if I was put on that 
 operating-table again I would die under the knife and that 
 
A Champagne Cure 337 
 
 I preferred to die in my bed. Mr. Trenholm told me that it 
 was the opinion of the surgeons that I surely would die un- 
 less they extracted the bullet, and I told him that they did 
 not know where the bullet was and were only groping 
 blindly in my body. Mr. Trenholm asked the doctors if I 
 would live if they found the lead, and they replied that they 
 could give no assurance to that effect, but that I would cer- 
 tainly die unless it was found. Under these circumstances 
 my friend agreed with me that it would be better for me to 
 be allowed to pass away quietly in my bed. 
 
 When the decision was announced, the doctors told Mr. 
 Trenholm that I could have anything I wanted, as nothing 
 would hurt me, and the kind old gentleman leaned over me 
 and asked if there was anything I desired to have and was 
 amazed when I murmured "champagne." The doctor told 
 him it would be better to humor me, as I might fret if it was 
 denied me, adding that I would not be able to swallow it. 
 A small glassful of the wine was put to my lips and I took one 
 good swallow, and then my throat seemed to contract so that 
 I could not have taken another if my life depended upon it, 
 and in a few minutes I dozed off into a profound slumber, 
 the first sleep I had had in three months without the use 
 of chloral, and I did not awake from it for two hours. The 
 first thing I asked for on opening my eyes was cham- 
 pagne, and this time I was able to drain the glass and then 
 slept for five hours. 
 
 When the surgeons came the next morning to dress my 
 wound, they were surprised to find my condition so im- 
 proved and ordered more champagne, and from that mo- 
 ment I began to get better. Why I craved champagne is a 
 mystery to me, as it is a wine I never cared for when in my 
 normal condition. 
 
 India-rubber tubing had been inserted to drain my 
 wound, and every morning the surgeons would take it out 
 to cleanse it and then they would put it back; this hurt 
 worse than the probing and cutting did. To have a bullet 
 
338 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 enter one's body is not such an unpleasant sensation as 
 would be imagined, but oh, the agony of the probe and 
 forceps, especially when a surgeon makes a mistake and tries 
 to pull out something that is not the bullet — as happened 
 tome. 
 
 While I was lying helpless in Judge Melton's home the 
 house caught fire one day. The soot in one of the chimneys 
 became ignited and fell on the shingle roof causing quite a 
 blaze. A young gentleman by the name of Richard Bacot, 
 who when a boy had run away and gone to sea before the 
 mast, performed a rather remarkable feat. There was no 
 ladder on the premises, but the sailor did not need one; 
 he went up the lightning rod hand over hand and tore away 
 the burning shingles with his bare hands, and of course was 
 burned very badly. Mr. Bacot was in the house when the 
 alarm was given, as he had kindly volunteered to assist in 
 nursing me. 
 
 When I was able to be up and about again, the trial of 
 Captain Tupper for the killing of Mr. Caldwell was begun, 
 and of course I was one of the witnesses called by the 
 State. I described what had taken place and also told the 
 court that I did not blame Captain Tupper for shooting 
 me, as I surely would have thrown him out of the window 
 if he had not done so. I was not cross-examined, but the 
 trial took on the appearance of a French court, where they 
 do what is called "reconstituting" the tragedy. I was made 
 to place officials of the court in the positions occupied by 
 the principals of the deplorable affair and show how Tupper 
 arose from his chair and fired the fatal shot; how Caldwell 
 fell dead in my arms, and how I laid him down on the floor 
 and stepped over his body and leaped over Melton and 
 Montgomery as they struggled with each other, etc., etc. 
 It was my first appearance in public as an actor, and thank 
 Heaven, my last. 
 
 Captain Tupper, testifying in his own behalf, said that 
 he had had no intention of shooting until he saw me enter 
 
A Carpetbag Murder Trial 339 
 
 the room, and then, fearing that I would kill him if I got 
 my hands on him, he had fired his revolver in self-defense. 
 Why he should have expected an attack from me I cannot 
 imagine, as I had never before spoken half a dozen words 
 to him in our short acquaintance. 
 
 Judge Carpenter, who presided at the trial, was a carpet- 
 bagger, a man of considerable learning and ability, but un- 
 fortunately he would go, periodically, on the most frightful 
 debauches. The jury was a mixed one of whites and blacks 
 and they brought in a verdict of guilty. Captain Tupper 
 was sentenced to the penitentiary, but he never went there. 
 He was nominally kept in the jail at Columbia for some 
 months. I was told that his room in the prison in the day- 
 time resembled a club, where he entertained his friends very 
 hospitably. Sheriff Dent and his sons were friends of 
 Tupper and at night, with Tupper, they would visit the 
 places of amusement. After several months of such nom- 
 inal confinement. Captain Tupper was pardoned by Gov- 
 ernor Franklin J. Moses, and shortly after securing his free- 
 dom, he was elected mayor of Summerville, South Carolina. 
 He killed another man and died an honored(?) citizen in the 
 community in which he lived. 
 
 If the above facts were not a matter of record in the 
 courts and elsewhere, I would fear to put them on paper, 
 as they seem to be so preposterous in Anno Domini 191 6. 
 The story of the Reconstruction period in South Carolina 
 has never been told in print except in the files of the 
 "Charleston News and Courier," and now that nearly all 
 of those who passed through that nightmare have passed 
 away, I fear that the present generation will never realize 
 its horrors. But believe me, South Carolina was the nearest 
 approach to a hell on earth during the orgy of the carpet- 
 baggers and negroes that ever a refined and proud people 
 were subjected to. 
 
CHAPTER XL 
 
 Cotton-picking by moonlight — Swindled by a carpetbagger out of my hay 
 crop — Legislative debates — Confiscation by taxation — Poverty no bar 
 to marrying and giving in marriage — Hound dog gives the alarm and saves 
 my family from death when house catches fire — Pay taxes in a novel way, 
 and sell Hampton plantation — Move to Charleston. 
 
 As a cotton planter I was a failure. Negroes, who culti- 
 vated in a desultory manner a half-acre of poor ground ca- 
 pable of producing a quarter of a bale of cotton, marketed 
 five or six. This was made possible by the proximity of the 
 cotton-fields of the white planters, and moonlight nights, 
 combined with the fact that low whites had established near 
 each large plantation country grocery stores where they 
 exchanged bacon, hominy, and whiskey for ^inginned cot- 
 ton. In fact they were simply fences where stolen goods 
 could be disposed of. 
 
 There were hundreds of acres of bottom lands on the 
 plantation which produced a luxuriant growth of natural 
 grass which grew to a great height and made very good hay. 
 This crop alone should have brought me in a very good 
 income, but there were almost insurmountable difficulties 
 in the harvesting of it. Like most of my neighbors I had 
 great quantities of land, but very little ready money. 
 
 There was also a very good water-power on the place, 
 furnished by a creek which divided the estate into two 
 parts. Once there had been a gristmill on its banks, but 
 Sherman had destroyed it and the dam ; only the millstones 
 were left intact. General Dennis, a carpetbagger, superin- 
 tendent of the penitentiary, sized up my situation and 
 generously (?) came to my relief with a proposition that if 
 I would give hwn the hay crop, he would build a dam and 
 rehabilitate the mill for me. I grabbed at the offer as a 
 drowning man would at a straw, with the result that Gen- 
 eral Dennis brought his convicts down to the plantation, 
 
The Legislative Circus 341 
 
 harvested the hay, and when the last load had safely come 
 across the bridge he tore that structure down and pretended 
 for a few days to be busily engaged in repairing my dam. 
 He soon wearied of the farce and I saw no more of either 
 him, his convicts, or my hay crop. I had enough sense left 
 not to go to law with him about it, as a negro jury or a car- 
 petbag judge would surely have decided in favor of Dennis, 
 who was a political leader. I simply should have had to 
 pay the costs of court, and should have been lucky if they 
 had not awarded Dennis damages against me. 
 
 Things were fast going from bad to worse. Ill-gotten 
 wealth and power had made the carpetbaggers more arro- 
 gant and offensive than ever, and day by day the ignorant 
 negroes became more impossible to deal with. In the coun- 
 try a white woman did not dare go more than fifty paces 
 from her own front door, and after every outrage there was 
 a lynching as sure as the night followed day. There was 
 very little secrecy about it and everybody knew who the 
 lynchers were, but the carpetbag and city negro constables 
 felt a delicacy about risking "malaria "by going into the 
 country to make arrests. 
 
 The only place of amusement open in Columbia was the 
 legislative circus, whose real business was transacted by 
 some half a dozen white scamps in the privacy of their com- 
 mittee rooms while the ricefield negroes from the low coun- 
 try and the cornfield negroes from the up-country mouthed 
 and made faces at each other on the floor of the House, 
 laboring under the impression that they were engaged in 
 important argument. 
 
 There was a shrewd negro member by the name of 
 Beverly Nash, who prided himself on his courtly manners 
 and his knowledge of legislative etiquette, and it was said 
 that no white carpetbagger had ever been smart enough 
 to get away with his (Nash's) share of the swag in any 
 public robbery. Beverly had been the body-servant of 
 an ante-bellum member of the legislature, and in the old 
 
342 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 days had attended his master at many sessions of that 
 august body. Whenever the language in debate between 
 the negroes grew too heated, or too strong, Beverly would 
 always arise to a question of personal privilege, and preface 
 his remarks by saying: "Mr. Speaker, when real gentlemen 
 used to occupy these seats befo' de wah, dey nevah used no 
 sich language as dat widout somebody got shot or else got 
 der heads knocked off wif a gov'ment inkstand!" 
 
 Rumors of the outrageous and excessive taxation imposed 
 upon the citizens by the legislature had reached even the 
 ears of a Republican Congress, and an investigating com- 
 mittee was sent to Columbia. If they ever conferred with 
 or examined anybody besides the leading carpetbaggers, I 
 never heard of it. The Congressmen were informed by these 
 worthies that the landowners had no cause for complaint, 
 as they were taxed only two and a half per cent on the value 
 of their property and that the people of New York State 
 were taxed at the same rate, and this appeared to the Con- 
 gressmen to be fair enough. But the carpetbaggers did not 
 tell the committee that in New York a man was taxed on 
 one half to two thirds of the actual value of his property, 
 and in South Carolina on ten times as much as it could pos- 
 sibly be sold for. Take my case as an example. The Hamp- 
 ton plantation was taxed on a valuation of some two hun- 
 dred and sixty-odd thousand dollars. I went before the 
 "board of equalization," which the committee had insisted 
 should be organized and which, of course, was composed 
 entirely of carpetbaggers, and made my protest, with no 
 avail. I even offered to sell the property to any member of 
 the board for thirty thousand dollars, but they had looked 
 up the records and found that Mr. Trenholm had paid the 
 Hamptons in 1862, when Confederate money was worth 
 something, one million dollars besides giving them a 
 bond for three hundred thousand dollars payable in gold 
 six months after peace was declared between the North 
 and South. They considered that they were letting me off 
 
A Tax Sale 343 
 
 very cheap, and declined to take into consideration the fact 
 that when Mr. Trenholm had purchased, there were hun- 
 dreds of slaves, and herds of blooded horses and cattle, 
 besides flocks of sheep of rare breeds and also Angora goats. 
 So far as my offer to sell them the property for thirty thou- 
 sand dollars was concerned, they were a "board of equali- 
 zation," and not real estate speculators. 
 
 At last the day came when my property was put up for 
 sale for past-due taxes. Of course no Southern gentleman, 
 even if he had had the money, would have bid for the estate 
 of a fellow sufferer at a tax sale, but there were creatures 
 who had plenty of cash who would. I told the auctioneer 
 that I hoped he would get more for the plantation than the 
 taxes amounted to, as I would appreciate what was left over. 
 The auctioneer smiled and invited me to talk to the crowd 
 and invite them to bid. I told him I would be delighted to 
 do so. It was rumored in the crowd that Nagle, the comp- 
 troller, was going to buy the property. I told the assemblage 
 that it was useless for me to tell them anything about the 
 plantation, as they knew it as well as I did, but what I did 
 want to tell them was that that place was my home and I 
 would fill the man who came on it with a tax title so full of 
 lead he would never be able to swim again. Instantly the 
 crowd began to call for Nagle, urging him to buy, and assur- 
 ing him that he would never die of chills and fever if he did. 
 There were no bids and the sale was postponed for another 
 month, and month after month on every sales- day it was 
 offered and every time it was put up for sale the crowd would 
 begin to yell for Nagle and urge him to buy. After some 
 months, without any explanation, the auctioneer no longer 
 offered it for sale; and for a time his reasons were an inex- 
 plicable mystery to the natives, who knew that it was im- 
 possible that I could have raised money enough to pay the 
 taxes. 
 
 The Southerner is a queer composition. As a good piece 
 of breakfast bacon is streaked with lean and fat, so is his 
 
344 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 character made up of layers of gayety and sadness. A sor- 
 rowful gloom spreads over his countenance as he listens to 
 some favorite song, such as "There will be a vacant chair," 
 or, "Under the rosebush there is a grave," and the next 
 instant he will be roaring with laughter over a witty remark, 
 or gayly dash off into the mazes of the dance. In this Re- 
 construction period he held public meetings at which he 
 proclaimed his intention of shaking off the yoke of his car- 
 petbag and negro tyrants, and yet insisted that under no 
 circumstances would he break his parole by raising his hand 
 against the United States Government troops. All the same 
 he was grimly determined that his persecutors should go: 
 in carriages, if they would, or in hearses, if they must. The 
 grave consequences which might follow what he intended 
 to do did not dampen his spirits, however, and he had his 
 barbecues and his shoots for turkeys, and also his balls 
 where dress coats were not to be seen and where his devoted 
 women appeared in cheap muslin gowns, their very sim- 
 plicity still more endearing them to the hearts of the men 
 who loved them so dearly and were so proud of them. 
 
 Poverty was no bar to matrimony and there were marry- 
 ing and giving in marriage. The young men took no 
 thought of what the future might have in store, and the 
 young girls, brought up in an atmosphere of self-denial, 
 willingly took the risks with the men they loved. I was 
 not different from the other young men with whom I asso- 
 ciated, and amid the mutterings of the coming storm and 
 while the old Confederate veterans were forming rifle 
 clubs all over the State, I married Miss Gabriella Burroughs, 
 a granddaughter of former Chancellor William Ford De 
 Saussure, the head of an old Huguenot family, and my sis- 
 ter Sarah, whose journal, "Diary of a Confederate Girl," 
 was published recently (191 5), married Captain Francis 
 W. Dawson, who had become the editor ©f the "Charles- 
 ton News and Courier." My wedding took place some 
 months before that of my sister, and after the ceremony I 
 
A Narrow Escape from Fire 345 
 
 took my bride to the plantation. It was a dark night and 
 the negroes had, as a compliment to the bride, built bonfires 
 of pine knots which lit up the stately oaks in the avenue 
 and made quite an impressive picture. Fires in the night 
 have always had a fascination for me, but that night I got 
 more than I cared for. 
 
 My mother and sister occupied the second story of the 
 frame house, and there was only one staircase leading from 
 the wide hall to the upper chambers, and in that hall was 
 kept burning a kerosene swinging lamp on account of my 
 mother being nervous. My bedroom was on the lower floor. 
 
 There was no use my trying to keep watch dogs, as I 
 knew from experience that the negroes who liked chickens 
 and things would poison them as fast as I brought them 
 home. About the premises, however, was an old hound 
 whose name was Blitzen — "peace be to her ashes." Blit- 
 zen was the kind of a hound dog that every one liked 
 to kick around — she was absolutely good for nothing, or 
 so we all thought. She could neither trail a fox nor give 
 tongue on a trail. No one had ever heard her bark at the 
 approach of a stranger, and her only interest in life was to 
 lie outside of the kitchen door and sleepily wait for the 
 bones the cook would occasionally throw to, or at, her, 
 according to the humor of that important person at the 
 moment. In the middle of the night I heard a dog whining 
 and scratching at the back door and I got up to investigate. 
 As I opened my bedroom door imagine my horror when I 
 beheld the yellow pine floor of the hall in flames at the very 
 foot of the staircase, the only possible means of escape for 
 my mother and sister. The kerosene lamp had exploded 
 and covered the floor with burning oil. I rushed back into 
 the bedroom, jerked the blankets off the bed, and with them 
 managed to smother the flames, but not before my hands 
 were badly burned. From that time to the day of her death 
 no one was ever allowed again to "kick that hound dog 
 around." 
 
346 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 As time went on my financial condition made my posi- 
 tion on the plantation more and more untenable, until one 
 day Colonel Childs, a banker, told me that he would buy 
 my property if I would pay the taxes up to date. I laughed 
 at such an offer, as it was of course impossible, or I thought 
 it was, for me to comply with the terms. Colonel Childs 
 then advised me, as a mere matter of curiosity, to go to the 
 tax collector and find out the exact amount due. I did so, 
 and to my amazement was told that the taxes had been 
 paid ! I demanded to know the name of the person who had 
 paid them, and after demurring until the carpetbagger con- 
 cluded that it would be more comfortable to give me the 
 information than to have a row, he told me that Dr. Nagle, 
 the comptroller of the State, had paid them. Almost burst- 
 ing with rage and indignation I hurried to the State House 
 and was fortunate enough to find Nagle alone in his office. 
 As I entered he looked up uneasily and with his right hand 
 started to open a drawer. I suspected that there was a pistol 
 in that drawer, and quickly putting my hand on my hip 
 pocket exclaimed, "Stop that!" — and his arm fell limply 
 to his side. I wasted no time, but at once plunged into a 
 statement of the object of my visit, demanding to know what 
 he meant by his insolence in paying the taxes on my prop- 
 erty. He stammered for a moment, and then assured me 
 that he did not wish to have any trouble with me, and that 
 he had only paid the taxes to rid himself of the monthly 
 annoyance of having all the toughs of the town howling to 
 him to buy my property, their only purpose being to make 
 trouble for him with me. Reaching a bundle of tax receipts, 
 which were in a pigeon-hole in his desk, he handed them to 
 me, saying that rather than have anymore trouble about the 
 matter I was welcome to them. He could well afford to be 
 generous, for Heaven only knows what the amount of this 
 fellow's stealings were from the State. 
 
 Within the hour after my pleasant interview with Nagle 
 I was back at the bank and amazed Colonel Childs by hand- 
 
The Hampton Plantation Sold 347 
 
 ing him the tax receipts. The transfer of the titles to the 
 estate were quickly completed, and I moved to Charleston 
 where I accepted a position in the office of the " News and 
 Courier" tendered to me by my brother-in-law Captain 
 Dawson. 
 
CHAPTER XLI 
 
 Friendly shooting- match — Dancing the "Too Ral Loo" — Negro mobs — 
 Dawson wounded — U.S. Regulars attacked with stones — General Hunt, 
 U.S.A., takes command of the rifle clubs — This action costs General Hunt 
 his promotion on retirement — Feud between Governor Chamberlain and 
 Captain Bowen, the sheriff of Charleston County. 
 
 The political situation in Charleston looked even more 
 ominous than that in Columbia. The white carpetbaggers 
 had begun to quarrel among themselves and the negroes 
 were becoming enraged because the white rascals reserved 
 for themselves all the best places in the gift of the State. 
 Before I went to Charleston there had been a shooting- 
 match at a meeting of the board of aldermen. Cunningham, 
 a carpetbagger, of course, was mayor, and he had in some 
 way incurred the enmity of the two Mackeys, Thomas Jef- 
 ferson and William M. (cousins). Some hot words passed 
 between these affectionate relatives and simultaneously 
 they drew their revolvers and opened fire. The other alder- 
 men dived under the table, as did the mayor, and well for 
 him that he did In time, for after the smoke cleared away 
 it was discovered that all of the bullets had struck the wall 
 in a small circle just behind where the mayor's head had 
 been. Of course neither of the Mackeys had been hurt. The 
 latter were what we called "scalawags" — Southern men 
 who for office had joined our persecutors. William Mackey, 
 to strengthen his hold on the negro vote, married a quadroon 
 girl who he claimed was a descendant of General Sumter, of 
 Revolutionary fame. 
 
 I saw a queer sight soon after my arrival in Charleston. 
 The negroes seemed to have gone crazy and were constantly 
 parading the streets — men and women — singing and 
 dancing a dance they called the "Too Ral Loo." They would 
 gather by the hundreds on the beautiful Battery, and with 
 the steps familiar in the "cake-walk" they would chant the 
 
Street Mobs 349 
 
 refrain, " I am dancing the Too Ral Loo." However, as they 
 molested no one, nobody interfered with them. 
 
 Greatly enjoying their license to take possession of the 
 streets, the mobs formed without provocation with more and 
 more frequency, and as long as they confined their activi- 
 ties to dancing and singing no one seemed to mind their 
 vagaries, but becoming emboldened they began to throw 
 stones. That was the signal for the rifle clubs to repair to 
 their armories, and well it was for the ignorant creatures 
 that the clubs were composed mostly of veterans of the war, 
 who were under perfect discipline, or else there would have 
 been a massacre. 
 
 Captain Dawson, who was indefatigable in his efforts 
 to redeem the State from carpetbag rule, lashed the mis- 
 creants unmercifully with his virile pen and never failed to 
 expose their rascalities and pillory them before the public. 
 The carpetbaggers in revenge had taught the negroes to 
 hate Dawson more bitterly than any other white man in the 
 State. Dawson had the energy of a steam engine and usually 
 worked at his desk until two or three o'clock in the morning. 
 The only physical exercise he allowed himself was to ride 
 on horseback from his home to his office and back again for 
 his meals. A mob assembled in Broad Street one day, and 
 Dawson, on his way home, rode through it with the result 
 that a perfect fusillade of revolver shots were turned loose 
 on him and one bullet struck him in the leg. He continued 
 on his way home, where he had his wound bound up, ate his 
 lunch, and then, mounting his horse, rode back to his office, 
 passing through the rioters again — this time without being 
 hurt. 
 
 General Henry J. Hunt, U.S.A., who had commanded the 
 artillery in the Army of the Potomac from the crack of the 
 first gun to Appomattox, was in command of the military 
 district in which Charleston was situated, and unlike his 
 predecessors he was very much respected by the natives. 
 He knew that the white people did not intend to lift a 
 
350 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 finger against the United States Government again, and 
 he had kept but one skeleton company of artillery at the 
 arsenal where he had his headquarters. There were only 
 some thirty-odd men in the company. 
 
 One day a mob of several thousand negro men and women 
 gathered near the City Hall, and became very violent in 
 their threats, which this time were directed principally 
 against the white carpetbaggers, who they claimed had got 
 all the swag and had not divided fairly with them, and they 
 clamored for their blood. The carpetbaggers were badly 
 frightened, fled to the arsenal, and begged General Hunt 
 for protection. General Hunt at once marched his skele- 
 ton company to the scene of the riot, and arriving at the 
 intersection of Broad and Meeting Streets he came face to 
 face with the mob, which did not seem disposed to give way 
 before his troops, whom he had ordered to ground arms 
 while he advanced and commanded the rioters to disperse. 
 This order was replied to with jeers and curses, and while 
 General Hunt was trying to persuade them to go quietly 
 to their homes, they began to throw bricks and stones at 
 the soldiers. I was on the sidewalk near where the soldiers 
 were drawn up, and never did I see a better example of dis- 
 cipline than was exhibited by those poor fellows standing 
 there like statues, with their faces bleeding, while they 
 awaited orders under a perfect shower of missiles. General 
 Hunt knew that every negro in the crowd carried a weapon, 
 either pistol or razor, and he also knew that by sheer 
 weight of numbers they could sweep his small command off 
 the street if they rushed them. In this dilemma he asked 
 some of the white bystanders if they could point out to him 
 the commander of the rifle clubs of which he had heard. 
 They directed him to a one-legged man, General Conner, 
 a veteran of the war, and General Hunt requested him to 
 call out the clubs, and form them behind his regulars. 
 Almost instantly there was heard a bell tolling in the 
 steeple of old St. Michael's. This was the signal agreed 
 
The Charleston Rifle Clubs 351 
 
 upon, and as though by magic there came a rush of several 
 companies of infantry, a battery of artillery, and a squad- 
 ron of cavalry. The negroes knew these men, and before 
 they had fairly taken up their stations in support of the 
 regulars, the mob had melted away, and in less than ten 
 minutes there was not a black face to be seen on the street. 
 
 The sequel to this incident was as follows: It was, and is, 
 the custom that when a veteran officer who served in the 
 war retires he is given an additional grade. General Hunt 
 was a colonel in the regular army with as fine a record as any 
 officer in it. During the war commanders-in-chief were fre- 
 quently changed, but no one ever suggested the idea that 
 General Hunt could be improved upon as chief of artillery. 
 When he came up for retirement, however, on account of 
 age, he was retired with only his rank of colonel through 
 some unseen influence, which came out of hiding when an 
 effort was made to pass a bill through Congress to give him 
 the additional grade. The very carpetbaggers whose worth- 
 less lives he had saved flocked to Washington and protested 
 against his promotion on the ground that he was a rebel 
 sympathizer and had on one occasion taken command of the 
 rebel rifle clubs and used them to cow the loyal element in 
 Charleston ! 
 
 At the time of the riots in Charleston bitter dissensions 
 had sprung up among the white carpetbaggers, the most 
 important being that between Bowen, the sheriff of Charles- 
 ton County, who wielded great influence over the negroes, 
 and Daniel H. Chamberlain, who was then governor of the 
 State. 
 
 Bowen was the felon who had occupied the cell in the 
 Charleston jail into which Mr. Trenholm, the former 
 Secretary of the Confederate Treasury, had been thrust on 
 his arrival in Charleston. Bowen had been released at 
 the time of the general jail delivery when Charleston was 
 captured. He had taken refuge on one of the sea islands 
 where he acquired great influence over the negroes during 
 
352 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 the military rule, and when the Reconstruction began and 
 the carpetbaggers took charge, he came forth from his se- 
 clusion a full-blown politician. 
 
 Even the most bitter enemies of Governor Chamberlain 
 recognized him as a man of ability. He was a man of re- 
 finement and brilliant education. One great reason for the 
 intense dislike shown toward him was that, when one of his 
 children died in Columbia, he called in a negro preacher 
 to perform the burial services. But I have heard that 
 Chamberlain said his reason for this was that at such a 
 time he did not care to subject himself to the chance of 
 a rebuff from any of the white ministers. Governor 
 Chamberlain soon found himself between two fires — the 
 enmity of the white natives on one side, and the bitter 
 hatred of the carpetbaggers, who had discovered that they 
 could not control him, on the other. 
 
CHAPTER XLII 
 
 Captain Dawson, editor of the "Charleston News and Courier," denounces 
 Bowen as the assassin of Colonel White — Bowen brings libel suit — Eli 
 Grimes, the actual murderer, located — I go to Leesville and bring Grimes to 
 Charleston to testify — Grimes attempts to kill himself — Grimes's sensational 
 testimony — Mistrial. 
 
 The fortune of the beautiful and accomplished Mrs. 
 King, who had saved Mr. Trenholm's gold for him while he 
 occupied the felon's cell in Charleston jail so recently va- 
 cated by Captain Bowen, had suffered like those of the rest 
 of the people of Charleston, and it was necessary for her to 
 obtain employment, which she easily found in the United 
 States Treasury. Clerks, if they know what is good for 
 them, don't rebuff Congressmen. It was Mrs. King's mis- 
 fortune to meet Bowen, then a full-fledged Congressman. 
 To escape her unaccustomed drudgery she married this 
 fellow, and in less than a year a previous wife turned up 
 and had Bowen indicted, tried, and convicted on a charge 
 of bigamy. He was sent to the penitentiary, but only re- 
 mained there for a short time, as he had a strong political 
 pull. He was pardoned and returned to Charleston where 
 he was immediately elected sheriff of the county. 
 
 Captain Dawson, editor of the "Charleston News and 
 Courier," who, figuratively speaking, could attach the sting 
 of a hornet to the nib of his pen and write with it, merci- 
 lessly attacked Bowen in the columns of his paper. Bowen, 
 having no character to lose, for a time ignored the editor, 
 but when Dawson boldly charged him with the murder of 
 Colonel White during the latter part of the war, even the 
 carpetbaggers insisted that the sheriff should take some 
 action against him. He sued Dawson for libel, claiming 
 damages in the sum of one hundred thousand dollars. 
 
 The facts of the case as charged by Dawson were that 
 Colonel White had put Bowen under arrest for some breach 
 
354 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 of discipline and had thereby earned the latter's enmity; 
 that Bowen had a private soldier in his company who had 
 committed a murder, of which crime Bowen alone was 
 cognizant, and naturally had Eli Grimes, the private, in 
 his power. He commanded Grimes to kill Colonel White. 
 Grimes demurred, and Bowen threatened to inform the 
 civil authorities in Lee County, southwestern Georgia, 
 where the crime had been committed. Frightened, Grimes 
 agreed to do as his tormentor wished. On his first attempt 
 to assassinate his colonel he hid in a "turkey blind" situ- 
 ated on a path which Colonel White used twice a day, but 
 the murderer's heart failed him and he let his intended vic- 
 tim pass without firing. He made the excuse to Bowen that 
 the spring of the lock of his gun was out of order. Bowen 
 then gave him a new carbine and warned him that if Col- 
 onel White was alive the next morning he would inform him 
 of the murder Grimes had committed in Georgia. At about 
 ten o'clock in the night Colonel White was reading by a 
 small lamp in a room of the weatherboarded shanty which 
 he occupied, and Grimes, having located his position by the 
 light, sneaked up to the side of the house and fired through 
 the thin weatherboarding, killing White instantly. Grimes 
 escaped into the swamp, but was soon surrounded and cap- 
 tured. Grimes at once implicated Bowen in the crime, and 
 both of them were arrested and put on a train for Charleston 
 where they were to be tried, but Grimes, although he was 
 in irons, eluded the vigilance of his guard and jumped out 
 of a window of the slow-moving train while it was on the 
 trestle, some ten miles long, which spans the Santee Swamp. 
 It was supposed that he had been drowned or that the 
 alligators which infest the swamp had made a meal of him. 
 Bowen was safely landed in the Charleston jail, where he 
 was when the Union troops took possession of the city and 
 opened the prison doors. 
 
 Bowen brought his libel suit in 1875, eleven years after the 
 murder had been committed. Colonel White's command 
 
Colonel Dawson and Sheriff Bowen 355 
 
 had scattered, so Dawson had no witnesses by whom he 
 could prove his charge. The loss of one hundred thousand 
 dollars, or any large part of such a sum, meant financial 
 ruin to him, and the fact that the case would be tried before 
 a carpetbag judge and a jury composed mostly of negroes, 
 the panel for which would be chosen by Bowen's henchmen, 
 was not reassuring. While in this dilemma Dawson received 
 a letter postmarked Louisville, Kentucky, from a woman, 
 who stated in it that ''she was Bowen's legal wife and that 
 she wanted to get even with him." She also asserted that 
 Eli Grimes was not dead, and that he had as great a de- 
 sire to get even with Bowen as she had, and that if Captain 
 Dawson would go to Lee County, Georgia, he would find the 
 man. She advised Dawson to be very careful, as Grimes was 
 a desperate and dangerous fellow; that she was from Lee 
 County herself and knew what she was talking about. 
 
 This Mrs. Bowen was the same woman who, under the 
 alias of Mrs. House, became a celebrated criminal and 
 landed in the New Jersey penitentiary for the crime or 
 crimes of having put out of the world several husbands by 
 poisoning them. 
 
 Captain Dawson went to Leesvllle, Georgia, a county 
 seat, saw Grimes, and persuaded him to allow himself to 
 be locked up until it was time for him to testify against 
 Bowen. It was deemed advisable to keep secret the fact 
 that Grimes was alive until he could be produced at the 
 trial. When that time arrived, I volunteered to go after 
 Grimes. Dawson went with me to Columbia, South Caro- 
 lina, and explained the case to Governor Chamberlain, who 
 gladly embraced the opportunity to punish his arch-enemy, 
 Bowen. He secretly made out extradition papers and ap- 
 pointed me a state constable to bring back Eli Grimes, 
 charged with murder. The Governor of Georgia, a Demo- 
 crat, was delighted to honor the requisition. 
 
 I proceeded to Leesvllle and was much disappointed to 
 find that Eli had tired of the monotony of the jail and had 
 
356 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 left. The sheriff, to whom I carried a letter from the gover- 
 nor, informed me that he did not care to be mixed up in the 
 case; that Grimes belonged to a large clan of poor whites, 
 and that they were a dangerous lot. He also advised that I 
 take a train bound north, which was shortly due, as it would 
 be better for my health to get away before the Grimes 
 family learned what I had come for. The only compromise 
 I could effect was that he would show me where Grimes lived 
 in the suburbs. He also agreed to lock Grimes up if I 
 brought him to the jail with my warrant. I waited until 
 an hour before day, and then, armed with a revolver and a 
 pair of handcuffs, I went to Eli's house and knocked at the 
 door which, after a short wait, was opened a hand's breadth. 
 Seeing that it was not going to be opened any wider, I 
 exclaimed, "In the name of the law I arrest you!" — and 
 throwing my full weight against the obstruction I burst 
 into the room and instantly found myself grappling with 
 my prisoner. We struggled all over the room while a woman 
 in scant night attire leaned over the banister above us shriek- 
 ing at the top of her voice. Suddenly the banister gave way 
 and the woman tumbled down, landing on our heads, 
 knocking both of us to the floor. I fell on top of Grimes, and 
 the almost nude woman, now insensible, lay alongside of us. 
 I quickly put the handcuffs on Grimes and ordered him to 
 stand up and precede me to the door, emphasizing my 
 command by the display of my pistol. Grimes demurred 
 because he had on only his underclothes. Not knowing 
 that his wife was in a faint, he commanded her to get his 
 gun, and as she did not move he cursed her in a most 
 shocking way. I forced him out of the house, and on the 
 way to the jail promised him that not a hair of his head 
 should come to harm, and told him that Captain Dawson 
 had the promise of the governor that even if there was a 
 trial and conviction, he would pardon him for the crime 
 committed more than ten years before. 
 
 When I got Grimes in his cell I left him in the care of 
 
An Unwilling Witness 357 
 
 the one-legged keeper, who was himself a prisoner, but a 
 "trusty," and went to the sheriff's house, where I was in- 
 vited to have breakfast. I had hardly eaten a mouthful 
 when the one-legged "trusty," with only one crutch, 
 bounded into the room exclaiming, "Eli Grimes is dead!" 
 We leaped to our feet and rushed to the prison, and when 
 the cell door was opened we beheld a gruesome sight. Eli's 
 body lay on the floor and his mangled head and face were 
 covered with blood. The village doctor was summoned and 
 much to my relief pronounced the man to be still alive. He 
 bathed and bandaged his damaged head, and in an hour 
 Grimes, apparently, was himself again. The "trusty" told 
 the sheriff that after I had left the jail Grimes swore I 
 should never take him to South Carolina alive, and that he, 
 the "trusty," had paid no attention to what he said, but 
 went to another part of the building to attend to his duties, 
 when suddenly he heard some awful thuds, and going to 
 Grimes's cell found that worthy engaged in running the 
 length of his narrow quarters and with all his force striking 
 his head against the steel with which the walls were lined. 
 
 The Grimes family soon assembled and made threats, 
 but I persuaded them that no harm should befall Eli. The 
 doctor advised me to take him away on the first train, as, 
 he said, unless I took him away before dark, his friends 
 would rescue him. 
 
 When I arrived at Macon I found I had a very ill man on 
 my hands, and I had to ask the hospitality of the local jail. 
 Oh, the days I spent in jail with that raving criminal, who 
 was "out of his head" from the effects of a raging fever. 
 Had I been that wretch's mother I could not have nursed 
 him more tenderly. 
 
 When Grimes was able to travel I took him to Augusta, 
 Georgia, to await further instructions, and of course had 
 to occupy the same cell with him as a precaution against 
 his again trying to commit suicide. A dead Grimes would 
 have been of no use to Captain Dawson. 
 
358 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 We were taken to Charleston on a special train and on 
 arriving there I dressed Grimes in a suit of my own clothes 
 and had him shaved and his hair cut. We then wandered 
 around the city until it was time for him to appear in court, 
 where we took our seats among the crowded spectators. 
 The trial proceeded in a desultory manner until one of 
 Dawson's counsel asked that Eli Grimes should be called. 
 Bowen and his lawyers burst into such loud laughter at this 
 that the judge rapped for order. The court crier went to the 
 door and perfunctorily called "Eli Grimes!" I took that 
 individual by the arm and steered him through the throng 
 of spectators until I landed him safely in the witness box. 
 Grimes was sworn, but so certain was Bowen that the man 
 was dead that he and his friends had paid no attention to 
 what was going on until Grimes, when asked his name, in 
 a loud voice answered, "Eli Grimes!" 
 
 The appearance of the supposedly dead man must have 
 shocked Bowen considerably, for he turned an ashen color, 
 gasped, and appeared about to faint, but was revived with 
 a glass of water. 
 
 One of the first questions asked the witness was, "Who 
 killed Colonel White?" Before answering, Grimes pointed 
 his finger at Bowen and said, "If you will make that man 
 look me in the eyes I will tell you." But Bowen did not 
 accept the challenge. Grimes said, " I knew he did n't dare 
 do it." And then in a most impressive manner he turned 
 to the court and said, "Judge, I pulled the trigger, but there 
 [pointing to Bowen] is the man who killed Colonel White." 
 He then went on to tell of his acquaintance with Bowen, who 
 at home was a professional gambler, and how he in a fracas 
 had killed (in a most cowardly manner) a neighbor during a 
 quarrel about a hog. It was in a lonely spot in the woods 
 and he buried his victim so well that he felt sure his crime 
 would never be known, but when he looked around he saw 
 Bowen, who was squirrel hunting. 
 
 It was early in the war and Bowen, who was raising a 
 
The End of a Libel Suit 359 
 
 volunteer company, asked him to enlist, but that he had 
 replied that it was a rich man's war and as he, Grimes, did 
 not own any "niggers," he did not see why he should be 
 expected to fight for them. Whereupon Bowen quietly 
 informed him that if he did not enlist at once, he, Bowen, 
 would inform the authorities where they could find the body 
 of the dead man, and also the man who killed him, and 
 intimated that there would be a hanging soon. Badly 
 frightened, Grimes enlisted. When their regiment was on 
 North Island, South Carolina, Bowen had some trouble with 
 his colonel and proposed that Grimes should kill him, but 
 Grimes demurred ; saying that he had nothing against that 
 officer. But Bowen again threatened him and frightened him 
 into doing it. 
 
 When Grimes had finished his testimony, Bowen fairly 
 shrieked to his deputies to "Arrest that man!" But I 
 showed my instructions from the governor to bring Grimes 
 to Columbia and the judge ordered that I should be al- 
 lowed to proceed. 
 
 The case resulted in a mistrial, and that was much better 
 than Captain Dawson had expected. As Grimes had come 
 back to life, Bowen never dared to demand a retrial, and 
 Dawson resumed his pen- lashings. 
 
CHAPTER XLIII 
 
 Exciting political campaign of 1875 — I return to Columbia — The dual 
 legislature — Hamilton, negro member of the legislature, makes a Democratic 
 speech — The military evict the Democrats from the Capitol. 
 
 The political campaign of 1875 was probably the most ex- 
 citing one that this or any other country ever went through, 
 and it was a red-hot one in South Carolina as the native- 
 born population of that State had determined, cost what it 
 would, to overthrow the carpetbag and negro government 
 and free themselves from a tyranny that was no longer bear- 
 able. None but a desperate people would have dreamed 
 that it could be done, as the negroes not only greatly out- 
 numbered the whites, but, not satisfied with their great 
 normal majority, on election days, permitted many darky 
 boys, ranging between the ages of seventeen and twenty, 
 to vote, as no one could swear positively to a negro's age. 
 Black women were also allowed to vote by the election of- 
 ficials, who were, of course, appointed by the carpetbaggers, 
 and it took an expert to detect the sex of a flat-chested negro 
 woman of over forty years of age when she was dressed in 
 men's clothes. I remember one instance a negro man, chal- 
 lenged at the polls, with tears in his eyes acknowledging that 
 he had voted at the other precincts, but protested that he 
 had not before voted at that particular polling-booth ! 
 
 Besides the great majority that was to be overcome it 
 was necessary to avoid any conflict with the United States 
 Government or its troops. General Wade Hampton, Gen- 
 eral M. C. Butler, General Gary, and Captain Dawson were 
 the acknowledged leaders of the forlorn hope, and rifle clubs 
 were formed all over the State. These clubs were called by 
 the carpetbaggers "Redshirts," as for economical reasons 
 they wore red flannel shirts instead of more costly uniforms. 
 The carpetbaggers tried to give the National Government 
 
The Political Campaign of 1875 361 
 
 the impression that these clubs were simply made up of ban- 
 dits when the truth was that they were composed mostly 
 of veterans of the Civil War, men who belonged to the best 
 families in the State. 
 
 For the first time a great and united effort was made by 
 the native whites to influence the colored vote. Heretofore 
 the blacks had to a man voted the Republican ticket, and 
 now, although they spoke with the greatest contempt of the 
 carpetbaggers, they could not be induced to vote against 
 them on election day. Many amusing stories were told at 
 the expense of those who endeavored to convert Sambo and 
 induce him to embrace Democratic doctrines. One of them 
 was that General Hampton had met one of his former slaves 
 and asked him what he had in a basket which the fellow was 
 carrying on his arm. The man said he had some puppies in 
 it. The general, who was an ardent sportsman, asked what 
 kind of puppies they were, and the darky, removing the 
 cover, disclosed three or four newly born pups, at the same 
 time saying, "Dey is good Democratic pups, suh."A month 
 later the general met the same negro with the same basket 
 and again asked him what was in it, and again the man re- 
 plied, "Pups, suh." "What kind of puppies have you to- 
 day," laughingly inquired the general; and the darky re 
 plied "Good Republican pups, suh," — and uncovered his 
 basket. The general, who never forgot a horse or a dog, 
 said, "Why, Sam, you rascal, those are the same puppies you 
 showed me a month ago and told me that they were good 
 Democratic puppies!" "Yes, Mas* Wade," replied the 
 darky ; " but don't you see dey done got der eyes open now ! " 
 
 Of course all efforts to wean the negroes from the Re- 
 publican Party were futile, but the whites had great hopes 
 that the dissensions among the carpetbaggers would disrupt 
 their party. They soon learned that in those days the Re- 
 publican Party did not divide on election day. 
 
 Wherever in the State the carpetbaggers held a political 
 meeting, there would assemble the whites and insist on a 
 
362 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 division of time with their orators. It was embarrassing to 
 the aliens. 
 
 Captain Dawson asked me to go to Columbia, as he 
 thought I could be of service to the cause in Richland Dis- 
 trict, as the county was called at that time. Shortly after 
 my arrival in the capital we heard that the Republicans 
 were to hold a great mass meeting in Edgefield District, the 
 home of General M. C. Butler. The word was passed to the 
 members of the rifle clubs, and those within reach, as usual, 
 attended the meeting. A platform had been erected in a 
 grove of trees, and seated on it were Governor Chamber- 
 lain and a number of his most prominent black and white 
 lieutenants. The speaker's stand was surrounded by a 
 dense mass of blacks through which we forced our horses, 
 and as many of us as could find room took up our positions 
 as near the stand as possible. 
 
 General Butler, against the protests of the carpetbaggers, 
 forced his way on to the stand, accompanied by several 
 others. General Butler was an extraordinarily handsome 
 man — tall and graceful, and possessed of the manners of a 
 Chesterfield. His courtesy and winning smile made friends 
 of all who came in contact with him. At one of the battles 
 in Virginia a shell had struck his horse in the breast and ex- 
 ploded inside of the animal, shattering the general's leg so 
 badly that it had to be amputated below the knee ; but so 
 well did he manage his artificial limb that for several years 
 after the war was over he used to dance at balls, and it was 
 difficult to convince strangers that he was a one-legged man. 
 In the hour of danger he was one of the coolest men I ever 
 saw, and he feared neither man nor devil. But with all of his 
 beautiful manners, when he wanted to, he could be the most 
 cold-blooded, insolent human being that mortal eyes ever 
 beheld. Without saying so much as "by your leave" to 
 the assembled carpetbaggers, Butler began to harangue the 
 crowd, denouncing the Republican leaders who were pres- 
 ent. While he was tongue-lashing Chamberlain, he stood 
 
The Political Campaign of 1875 363 
 
 over him shaking his finger almost in his face. Chamberlain, 
 who was a bald-headed man, was seated with one elbow rest- 
 ing on the arm of his chair and his forefinger was moving 
 nervously back and forth in the rim of hair below his bald 
 spot and just above his ear. Suddenly, during one of the 
 pauses in General Butler's speech, a voice in the audience 
 rang out with " Run him out in the clearing, Governor, and 
 I will shoot him for you!" Looking in the direction from 
 whence the interruption came, I saw a " redshirt," mounted 
 on his horse, not ten feet from the governor, with a Colt's 
 revolver aimed at the head of the chief magistrate of the 
 State. But at a word from Butler he lowered his weapon and 
 kept quiet during the rest of the speaking. 
 
 The negroes, naturally afraid of their former masters, be- 
 came somewhat terrorized, and when the redshlrts ap- 
 peared at their meetings the more timid among them would 
 quietly sneak away. Of course there were clashes in various 
 parts of the State, but the blacks had becorne so nervous 
 that the white carpetbaggers could not induce them to 
 stand their ground, and the meetings soon took on a decided 
 Democratic hue. The few Republican speeches made be- 
 came very conservative, and the eyes of the speakers, while 
 they were delivering them, looked as wild as those of a cor- 
 nered jack-rabbit looking for some means of escape. 
 
 Some extraordinary incidents occurred. The night before 
 the election a barbecue was held on a plantation, which was 
 a polling precinct where several hundred negroes and pos- 
 sibly half a dozen whites voted, and the next day it was car- 
 ried by an enormous Democratic majority. The negroes 
 always voted the straight Republican ticket, and the whites, 
 of course, voted the Democratic; and it seemed a strange 
 reversal of form only to be accounted for by the fact that 
 some old veterans knew where two Confederate brass 
 field-pieces had been buried to keep them from falling into 
 General Sherman's hands. These cannon had been disin- 
 terred, and manned as a section of artillery, they had been 
 
364 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 brought to the barbecue. In the small hours of the night a 
 drill had been ordered, and several shells had burst in the 
 air, with the result that when the polls were opened in the 
 morning no negroes were around there to vote. 
 
 I do not suppose that any one claimed that the famous 
 election of November, 1875, was a fair one. Where the 
 negroes were in such a majority that they could manage 
 things in their own way, negro women and boys under age 
 voted with impunity and repeated as often as they felt dis- 
 posed. On the other hand, the whites in some places played 
 practical jokes which were highly successful in their results. 
 At one precinct in the country, where it was considered im- 
 possible to overcome the great black majority, two young 
 white men did the trick quite successfully. They had posted 
 themselves in front of the voting-booth as challengers of 
 illegal voters — they were brothers-in-law and devoted 
 friends. While the voting was going on, to the amazement of 
 the onlookers, they became involved in a quarrel in which 
 one of them called the other a liar. Instantly they both drew 
 their weapons and began to shoot. It was afterwards dis- 
 covered that most of their bullets landed in the polling- 
 booth. The negro judges of the election fled, but the sole 
 Democratic official, who usually, at elections, could get no 
 one to listen to his protests, was left alone in charge of the 
 ballot boxes and took them safely to the capital, where, 
 when opened, their contents fairly staggered the Republi- 
 can officials so great was the Democratic majority in this 
 usually overwhelming Republican precinct. 
 
 The carpetbag officials, of course, counted the Demo- 
 crats out — and the native whites swore a mighty oath that 
 no longer would they submit to carpetbagger and negro 
 domination. They proclaimed General Hampton and the 
 Democratic candidates for the legislature as elected, and 
 the rifle clubs began to gather in the vicinity of the capital. 
 
 Two legislatures assembled in Columbia. The carpetbag- 
 gers and negroes had possession of the State House, and the 
 
The Dual Legislature 365 
 
 Democratic body met In the local court-house — each claim- 
 ing to be the legal lawmakers for the State. 
 
 One night some twenty or thirty young men, myself 
 among the number, although none of us were members of 
 the legislature, quietly entered the State House, and dis- 
 tributing ourselves at points of vantage and the exits, we 
 allowed no one to leave the building. There were quite a 
 number of young negroes — "Tacheeses " (attaches) as they 
 called themselves — in the building, but none of the higher of- 
 ficials were there. As there were no telephones in those days, 
 and as we would not let anybody leave, there was no way for 
 them to get word to their friends that we were in possession. 
 Everything with us seemed to be plain sailing, and expect- 
 ing to be complimented on our enterprise we sent word to 
 General Hampton that we had the State House and would 
 hold it until the Democratic legislature assembled therein. 
 But our leaders wanted above everything to avoid a clash 
 with the United States Government, and knowing that the 
 United States troops would be called upon to eject us, 
 General Hampton sent back word for us to withdraw from 
 the capitol at once — which we did. 
 
 I think that it was two days after the foregoing episode 
 that the Democratic legislators met at the court-house and 
 decided to go to the capitol and take their seats, as by right, 
 in the legislative halls. Led by General Wallace, their 
 speaker, they marched to the State House followed by a 
 number of men bent upon assisting them if they met with 
 any opposition. Arriving at the State House they thrust 
 aside the sergeants-at-arms and doorkeepers, and took their 
 seats in their respective halls. It was before the usual hour 
 for the Republican legislature to meet, and the chambers 
 were empty, with the exception of a few negro employees. 
 I entered the House of Representatives with the members 
 of that body. General Wallace took the speaker's chair and 
 called the House to order, and was proceeding with the 
 business of the day, when the Republican members arrived 
 
366 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 in a great state of excitement, palpably chagrined at finding 
 themselves outwitted. The Democrats had occupied all the 
 seats on the right of the speaker, and only the vacant chairs 
 on his left were empty, so our former masters had to be con- 
 tent with those. Mackey, the speaker of the Republican 
 House, had an ordinary chair brought and placed along- 
 side of the regular speaker's seat now occupied by General 
 Wallace. Neither speaker recognized the other, nor did they 
 interchange a single word during the whole time the dual 
 legislature was in session. Whenever a Democratic member 
 arose to address the House, a carpetbagger or negro would 
 also get on his feet. General Wallace would recognize the 
 Democrat, and Mackey would do the same for the Repub- 
 lican, and then both members would begin to speak at 
 once, each pretending to be absolutely oblivious of the 
 other's presence. But now and then curiosity would get 
 the better of the Republicans and their spokesman would 
 stop to listen to what the other orator was saying, and as 
 the other orator was engaged in a denunciation of their ras- 
 calities, it could not have afforded them much satisfaction. 
 
 At times it looked as though it would be impossible to 
 avoid a hostile collision between the two bodies despite the 
 fact that the carpetbaggers were frightened, knowing, as 
 they did, that the first shot would be the signal for their an- 
 nihilation. They had become desperate, and the scathing 
 denunciations which they had to listen to penetrated through 
 even their dulled sensibilities. 
 
 No one, singly, dared to leave the chamber for fear they 
 would be unable to return, but the citizens generously 
 smuggled in baskets of food for their representatives, so 
 they did not suffer from hunger. 
 
 Hour after hour passed, during which many exciting scenes 
 took place; — night came, the hall was lighted, and still 
 the pandemonium reigned. About ten o'clock, Hamilton, a 
 black and very intelligent negro member who had accumu- 
 lated quite a handsome fortune as a planter of cotton, and 
 
A Stormy Session 367 
 
 who had the reputation of being the most honest politician 
 among that nefarious gang, came to me and said, if I would 
 stand by him, that he would make a speech and expose the 
 rascalities of the carpetbaggers. Of course, before commit- 
 ting myself I consulted some of the leaders, who approved, 
 and Speaker Wallace was informed as to what was about to 
 take place. I was surprised to find, on inquiry, that Hamil- 
 ton was not armed, and taking him out into a committee 
 room I gave him my revolver. I followed him back into 
 the chamber and stood behind his chair. Hamilton at last 
 caught the eye of Speaker Mackey and to the amazement of 
 the Republicans and most of the Democrats also, Speaker 
 Wallace, in a loud voice, also recognized the Republican 
 member. 
 
 Hamilton was in earnest — he was tired of the uncertain- 
 ties of life and property in which he lived. He also had the 
 foresight to see that the end of carpetbag rule had come, and 
 had determined to cast his lot with his former friends, the 
 ex-slave-owners. He had a fine command of the English 
 language, having traveled considerably with his master as 
 a valet when a slave. He not only named the crimes which 
 had been committed against the people of the State, but 
 also named the time, place, and the men who had per- 
 petrated them. This was too much for the carpetbag and 
 negro members; they raged and stormed at first, and 
 finally, urged on by the carpetbaggers, a dozen or more 
 negroes started for Hamilton, who drew his pistol and 
 leveled it at them. I warned him not to shoot until some one 
 touched him, and at that moment a friend of mine took up 
 a position behind me, and knowing that I was not armed 
 pushed a pistol into my hand. The negroes hesitated and 
 stopped, and Hamilton, laying his revolver on his desk, 
 remarked that he would kill the first man who laid a finger 
 on him. By this time the chamber was in an uproar. The 
 negroes and their white confreres were engaged in reviling 
 Hamilton, while the Southerners were urging him to go on. 
 
368 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 Hamilton proceeded with his speech, and never did I hear, 
 even from the mouth of General M. C. Butler, such a scath- 
 ing denunciation of the carpetbaggers. 
 
 When Hamilton had finished his remarks to the House, 
 he turned to me and said that "now his life was not worth 
 the price of a puff of smoke," as the negroes would surely 
 kill him before he could get out of the city. I reassured him 
 by telling him that I was going to stay by him until he was 
 out of danger. 
 
 We left the House of Representatives together and were 
 not followed. I took Hamilton to the home of Mr. Douglas 
 De Saussure, a prominent lawyer, and he was kept there 
 until he could catch a train bound for his home. 
 
 Returning to the House of Representatives I found my 
 way barred by General Dennis, the carpetbagger who had 
 robbed me of my hay crop and mill dam, and half a dozen 
 so-called "Tacheeses." I roughly pushed Dennis aside and 
 walking through the gang of young negroes entered the 
 chamber. It was now after midnight and the House was in 
 as great disorder as when I had left it. A number of negro 
 members were gathered together near the speaker's desk, 
 and there was some anxiety expressed for the safety of Gen- 
 eral Wallace. One of our leaders asked me to take up a 
 position behind the chair of General Wallace. To this 
 Speaker Mackey objected, but on my informing him very 
 impolitely that there was no one man enough to remove me, 
 he paid no more attention to me. 
 
 Urged on by the carpetbaggers, the negroes made a 
 demonstration as though they wanted to remove Speaker 
 Wallace from the chair by force, but they changed their 
 minds when they saw how quickly the whites rushed in be- 
 tween them and the speaker. They wavered for a moment 
 and then returned to their seats. 
 
 By three o'clock in the morning the speaking had ceased 
 and every one seemed weary of the excitement. There was 
 absolute silence for a little while, and then the whites were 
 
The "Wallace House" Evicted 369 
 
 aroused by a burst of melody which came from the throats 
 of the plantation darkies who had, in such a marvelous 
 manner, been transformed into statesmen. 
 
 With the morning came the military, who had received 
 orders from Washington to evict from the State House the 
 so-called "Wallace House." The Democrats after a protest 
 marched out of the building in the same order that they had 
 marched into it. 
 
 As a matter of personal interest I might add that my 
 daughter Helen afterwards married the only son of General 
 Wallace. 
 
CHAPTER XLIV 
 
 General M. C. Butler elected U.S. Senator by Democratic legislature — 
 Carpetbag conspiracy against Butler proves a fiasco — Don Cameron, to the 
 amazement of the country, forces the seating of Butler in the U.S. Senate — 
 Senator Blaine traps Senator Vance who was fond of practical jokes — Aston- 
 ishing clash between Senators Bayard and Blaine — Visit of a Senate Com- 
 mittee to the Indian Territory — Attempt to give a scolding to Chief Joseph, 
 of the Nez Perces Indians, and the result — The mountain would not 
 come to Mohammed, so Mohammed had to go to the mountain — Joseph 
 turns the tables on the Senators and administers a stinging tongue-lashing 
 — We leave Joseph, but do not feel very proud of ourselves. 
 
 Political events both national and state in 1875-76 were 
 full of thrills. Hayes and Tilden each claimed to have been 
 elected to the Presidency, and Chamberlain and Hampton 
 each claimed to have been legally elected as Governor of 
 South Carolina. Tilden was counted out and Hampton was 
 counted in. How the electoral vote of South Carolina could 
 have been given to Hayes, and Hampton at the same time 
 declared to have been elected governor, is, as the late 
 Lord Dundreary would have said, "One of those things no 
 fellow could understand," as, while negro women and boys 
 under age may have voted, and there might have been sev- 
 eral tissue ballots found in the boxes, still, it was a well- 
 known fact that neither whites nor blacks ever voted a split 
 ticket in South Carolina. 
 
 South Carolina was in deadly earnest in her determina- 
 tion never again to submit to carpetbagger and negro rule. 
 The authorities in Washington realized that the criminal 
 orgy, miscalled government, of these wretches had come to 
 an end, and that the only result of keeping them in power 
 by the use of bayonets would be to cause the slaughter of 
 numbers of ignorant, misled negroes. 
 
 Having nothing to do I accepted several invitations from 
 Northern friends (strange to say they were all Republicans 
 in politics) and went with one of them on a yachting cruise 
 
 ^^^ iX^ 
 
Butler's Election to the Senate 371 
 
 along the New England coast, stopping at Bath, Maine, 
 among other ports, where my host begged me not to let it be 
 known that I had once been a pirate and had participated 
 in the capture of several vessels belonging to that once pros- 
 perous shipowning town. 
 
 After the yachting cruise I paid a number of visits to 
 friends and was having a delightful time at the beautiful 
 country seat of General E. Burd Grubb, near Burlington, 
 New Jersey, when I received a letter telling me that a trust 
 estate, my last and sole source of income, had forever disap- 
 peared. By my authority my trustee had lent the money, 
 for which he was seeking an investment, to a friend of mine 
 who was in business. Knowing our personal relations, the 
 trustee let him have the money on his assurance that he 
 would at once send back the collateral securities, but my 
 friend failed before he did so. On learning of my total finan- 
 cial ruin I at once went to Washington to the house of my 
 brother-in-law, General R. C. Drum, adjutant-general of 
 the United States Army at that time, and I was still there 
 when the United States Senate met to hold probably the 
 most exciting session in its history. 
 
 The Democratic legislature had kept up its organization 
 despite the fact that the military would not allow them 
 to enter the State House, and they had elected General 
 M. C. Butler, a nephew of Commodore Perry, to the United 
 States Senate. Corbin, a carpetbagger, was elected to the 
 same seat by the Republican legislature. As the United 
 States Senate at the time was Republican by a majority of 
 one, Butler's election was generally regarded, by everybody 
 except Butler, as an empty compliment. 
 
 The carpetbaggers had fled from the South and were 
 gathered in great numbers in Washington, posing in the 
 role of political "lame ducks" and demanding that the 
 Republican Administration should take care of them. 
 
 The Senate was Republican by a majority of one, and no 
 one, with the exception of General Butler, dreamed that it 
 
372 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 would be possible for him to obtain the seat under the cir- 
 cumstances. But the carpetbaggers were not satisfied with 
 this apparent certainty. They wanted revenge, and to ob- 
 tain it they formed a conspiracy for the purpose of so be- 
 smirching Butler that he would never be able to appear in 
 national politics again. 
 
 One day General Butler sent for me and told me of the 
 conspiracy and how one of the carpetbaggers had gone on a 
 spree and let the cat out of the bag, by mistake, to a North- 
 ern Democrat under the impression that he was a carpet- 
 bagger from some other State than South Carolina. The 
 simple scheme was to have a woman of the demi-monde 
 visit the general's apartment at an hour when it was known 
 that he was usually alone, and the conspirators were to fol- 
 low her into the rooms. It was a plan that required more 
 courage than I had ever given the carpetbaggers the credit 
 of possessing. The general requested me to remain with him 
 until the denouement. 
 
 As the probable time for the visit approached, General 
 Butler went into his bedroom and I remained in the sitting- 
 room. The apartment was situated on the ground floor in a 
 house on "F" Street, between Thirteenth and Fourteenth 
 Streets. His rooms were separated by folding doors. We had 
 not long to wait before a heavily veiled woman, without 
 asking for General Butler, or knocking at the sitting-room 
 door, boldly entered and seemed considerably excited when 
 she discovered me alone in the room. Before I could ask her 
 business she demanded to know where General Butler was. 
 I frankly told her that the general knew all about the con- 
 spiracy, and that if she would take a seat she would prob- 
 ably see some fun when her friends arrived. The woman be- 
 came greatly agitated and started for the front door, but I 
 had no idea of letting her meet the conspirators, and sug- 
 gested to her that in going out that way she might fall into 
 the hands of the police, and that as I did not want a scandal 
 I would gladly show her out the back way where she could 
 
Conspiracy against Butler 373 
 
 escape into an alleyway and from thence to a side street. 
 She accepted my offer with enthusiasm and made a hasty 
 exit. 
 
 When I returned to the apartment General Butler and I 
 changed places and he seated himself in the parlor while I 
 went into the bedroom and closed the doors. The cicatrix of 
 the stump of the General's amputated leg had been paining 
 him and he was using his crutches that day. We had not 
 long to wait. The door leading to the street and the one 
 between the hall and his sitting-room had been left pur- 
 posely ajar, and a few moments after the departure of the 
 mysterious lady five carpetbaggers burst unceremoniously 
 into the room. General Butler arose and demanded to know 
 what they meant by the intrusion, but they were all so 
 hilarious that they took no notice of his indignation, and 
 two of them suddenly threw open the doors of the bedroom 
 and to their surprise did not find the lady, but beheld me 
 reclining on a couch. I leaped to my feet and seizing a 
 chair for a weapon began to brandish it, at the same time, 
 I fear, using some very violent language. General Butler 
 was hopping about on one crutch while making most men- 
 acing flourishes in the air with the other. The general was 
 the possessor of a most highly sulphurated vocabulary when 
 his angry passions were aroused, and he was using it with 
 unstinted prodigality. The scoundrels did not stand on 
 the order of their going, but struggled among themselves 
 for the honor of being first to reach the street — and thus 
 ended the adventure with the veiled lady. 
 
 I was in the gallery of the Senate when the contested seat 
 in that body between Corbin, the carpetbagger, and Butler, 
 the Confederate brigadier, came up for decision. It was a 
 very exciting session. Conkling and Blaine for once were 
 in accord, and they were merciless in their denunciations 
 of Butler. Butler, of course, could not talk back, as he was 
 not yet a Senator. Conkling described the Chesterfieldian 
 Butler as a "swashbuckler," and Blaine accused him of 
 
374 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 being "a murderer whose hands were dripping with the 
 blood of innocent negroes massacred at Hamburg." I was 
 surprised at Butler's seeming indifference to the attack until 
 he afterwards told me that he was not at Hamburg when the 
 shooting took place, but that he was near there — in fact, his 
 home was not twenty miles away from the scene. The truth 
 of the matter was that, urged on by their white leaders, the 
 negroes in Hamburg had started a riot, and an Edgefield 
 rifle club had hastily assembled and suppressed them, and 
 in the process had killed a few of the most violent. It was 
 singular that no carpetbaggers were ever killed in those 
 collisions. 
 
 When the vote as to whether Butler or Corbin should be 
 declared the duly elected Senator from South Carolina was 
 taken, no one seemed particularly interested, as it was taken 
 for granted that the Republican majority of one would seat 
 Corbin, but great was the amazement when Don Cameron, 
 the autocrat of the Pennsylvania Republican machine, an- 
 nounced that he voted for Butler. The excitement caused 
 by this vote was nothing, however, in comparison to the 
 pandemonium which reigned in that dignified body when 
 Patterson, the carpetbag Senator from South Carolina, a 
 man I had frequently heard Butler denounce at public 
 meetings as everything that was dishonest and despicable, 
 followed the lead of Cameron and voted also to seat But- 
 ler! Patterson was a Pennsylvanian, and a henchman of 
 the Camerons. The carpetbag days in South Carolina were 
 over forever, and he well knew that ruin stared him in the 
 face at home if he dared vote contrary to the wishes of 
 Cameron. 
 
 Butler was seated and given the chairmanship of the 
 Civil Service Committee, a sinecure, as that committee had 
 nothing to do in those days, and was one of the least impor- 
 tant committees, whose chairmanship was usually given to 
 a member of the minority. His only patronage was the 
 appointment of a messenger at a salary of fifteen hundred 
 
Memorable Senatorial Clashes 375 
 
 dollars a year, and this position he gave to me — and I 
 surely did need the money at that time. 
 
 I was in the Senate Chamber on that memorable night 
 when Senators Conkling and Lamar had their famous clash, 
 and on another occasion I was a witness of that extraordi- 
 nary sight when Senator Blaine, like a caged lion, walked 
 back and forth in front of the Democratic desks behind 
 which were seated a number of ex-Confederate brigadiers. 
 He would stop first in front of one of them and denounce 
 his political methods, and then pass on to the next, but al- 
 ways skipped Senator Bayard, of Delaware, who was seated 
 alongside of the one-legged General Hampton, and also 
 ignored Senator Voorhees, of Indiana. At the end of the 
 row was seated Senator Zebulon B. Vance, of North Caro- 
 lina, an inveterate joker. When Blaine would reach Vance's 
 seat he would look at him for a moment and then give a 
 little start as though very much surprised, then retrace his 
 steps and take up a position in front of some other Demo- 
 cratic Senator on whom he would pour out his wrath. This 
 performance, repeated several times, made, as I have no 
 doubt it was intended to make. Bayard, Voorhees, and Vance 
 conspicuous because he excepted them from his general 
 denunciations so freely lavished on their Democratic con- 
 freres. First Bayard and then Voorhees asked permission to 
 interrupt him, but curtly refusing the former's request, he 
 told the latter that he would not give up the floor for an 
 instant to a man who in the Civil War had been neither 
 "fish, flesh, fowl, nor good red herring." Vance seemingly 
 flushed with anger at being excepted from the attacks, with- 
 out asking permission to interrupt challenged Blaine "to 
 show that he had ever made a disloyal remark since the sur- 
 render at Appomattox." Blaine called the attention of the 
 presiding officer and the Senate to the fact that he had care- 
 fully avoided making any attack on the Senator from North 
 Carolina, but added that he usually had on his desk some 
 ammunition, useful in such contingencies, and he strode to 
 
376 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 it pretending that he was looking for something important 
 among the mass of documents strewed thereon. Seemingly 
 failing in his search, he gave a sigh. The Democratic side of 
 the chamber laughed with glee at his supposed discomfiture, 
 but when the merriment ceased Mr. Blaine said that he 
 sometimes had something under his desk, and stooping down 
 he produced a schoolbook of orations published for the use of 
 the public schools of North Carolina. This book he told the 
 Senate was issued to the schools when Zebulon B. Vance was 
 governor and also, ex-officio, a member of the public school 
 board, and this was the kind of oratory and loyalty being 
 taught the youth of the State. He then opened the book at 
 a marked page and read a selection from one of Vance's 
 orations which proved to be a red-hot "secesh" speech, all 
 about "when the South, like a phoenix, would arise from its 
 ashes and cast out the Northern vandal," etc., etc. The 
 Senate lost its dignity and indulged in roars of laughter in 
 which Senator Vance hilariously joined. He saw the trap 
 Mr. Blaine had set for him and appreciated the dexterity 
 with which it had been sprung. 
 
 After the merriment had somewhat subsided, Mr. Blaine 
 stopped in front of Senator Bayard's desk. His hands were 
 in his trousers pockets and his whole attitude, I must say, 
 was offensive, and doubtless was meant to be so. General 
 Wade Hampton occupied the next seat to Mr. Bayard and 
 Mr. Blaine commenced to berate the general as though he 
 was responsible for all the sins of the South since the com- 
 mencement of the Civil War. General Hampton, in a most 
 dignified manner, remained perfectly quiet during the verbal 
 attack, but suddenly, without even asking the President 
 pro tenCs permission to interrupt the speaker, Mr. Bayard 
 exclaimed, while shaking his finger at Mr. Blaine, "You 
 shall not stand in front of my desk in that insolent attitude 
 with your hands in your pockets ! " Mr. Blaine glared at him 
 for a moment and then said that he would stand in any place 
 in the Senate Chamber that he chose, and he certainly 
 
Blaine and Bayard 377 
 
 would keep his hands in his pockets as long as it pleased him 
 to do so. Mr. Bayard lost his temper, and jumping to his feet 
 exclaimed, "You may talk that way here, but at another 
 time and place — " He got no farther, for Mr. Blaine fairly 
 roared, "Stop!" And then in a lower tone of voice, while 
 pointing to General Hampton, he said, "If that threat had 
 come from that one-legged man, it might mean something, 
 but from you — p'st!" he hissed, and at the same time 
 snapped his fingers in a most offensive manner. 
 
 When Mr. Blaine had finished his tirade against the 
 "Confederate brigadiers," he took his seat. Mr. Bayard, 
 showing great emotion, instantly arose, and addressing 
 the presiding officer said that "if in the heat of debate 
 he had said anything to offend the Senator from Maine he 
 wished to withdraw the remark!" The Senators and the 
 crowds in the galleries fairly gasped in astonishment, for 
 surely, if an apology was in order, it was not due from 
 Mr. Bayard. 
 
 As I watched this unpleasant scene little did I dream that 
 it was destined at a future day to give me what the French 
 call a "mauvais quart d'heure" — but it did. 
 
 The marvelous Hayes-Tilden-Hampton-Chamberlain de- 
 cision had given South Carolina control of her own politi- 
 cal affairs, but not the control of her judiciary, as carpetbag 
 judges still presided over her courts, and the warfare between 
 the carpetbaggers and the natives still continued before the 
 courts. Corbin, the disappointed contestant for a seat in 
 the United States Senate, was the United States district 
 attorney, and naturally thirsted for revenge and sought to 
 use the United States District Court to attain his ends. He 
 hated Dawson, the editor of the "Charleston News and 
 Courier," even more than he did Butler. Colonel Simonton, 
 an ex-Confederate ofliicer, and a brilliant lawyer, was in- 
 formed that Corbin was about to proceed against Dawson, 
 and a number of other prominent Democrats, in the United 
 
378 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 States Court, charging them with instigating or participat- 
 ing in violations of the United States laws governing presi- 
 dential or national elections. On the other hand, United 
 States Senator Patterson, the South Carolina carpetbagger, 
 and Cardozo, a highly educated carpetbag negro who had 
 been superintendent of public education, and many other 
 ex-officials of the looted States, had been indicted before 
 the state courts, and it was well known that the judges 
 thereof were anxious to make their peace with the native 
 whites. 
 
 The following letter from Senator M. C. Butler will give 
 an idea as to how things were managed in those days : — 
 
 Edgefield, S.C, Sept. 12, 1879. 
 
 Col. J. M. Morgan, 
 
 Washington, D.C. 
 Dear Morgan: — 
 
 Colonel Simonton writes to-day that Corbin is in Charleston 
 preparing to renew the election prosecutions in Charleston in 
 November, in the United States Court, and suggests that the 
 prosecutions in the State Courts be pressed at the next term of 
 the Court in Columbia — third Monday in next month — before 
 [Judge] Mackey. 
 
 I would be obliged if you would see Patterson and Cardozo in 
 person and say that you have this information from reliable 
 sources, and that unless Corbin is stopped there will be no possible 
 chance to control the prosecutions in Columbia. Chamberlain 
 will be moved upon also, as the truce will be at an end. 
 
 The repeal of "test oath" and amendment to the jury law will 
 protect our people — but we do not want this question reopened, 
 and it will not be, unless the Radicals make the first move. 
 
 I am sorry that Dawson is not here, as Corbin will have espe- 
 cial delight in annoying him, if he can. 
 
 Mention no names in your conferences, and be good enough to 
 let me hear from you. I will see Youmans next week. 
 
 Very truly yours, 
 
 M. C. Butler. 
 
 I had a talk with Patterson and Cardozo, and there were 
 no more prosecutions. 
 
Chief Joseph and a Senate Committee 379 
 
 It must have been a mighty poor Senator who In those 
 days could not (at the expense of the Government) get up, 
 under the guise of an "investigation," a "junket" to some 
 part of the country he wished to see during the summer 
 vacations. 
 
 It was my good fortune to accompany one of these luxuri- 
 ous pleasure parties to the Indian Territory. The object of 
 our jaunt was supposed to be for the purpose of looking into 
 the condition of the Nez Percys Indians who were interned 
 there and who were becoming restless. It was thought it 
 would be well to give their chief, Joseph, a good scolding, 
 and the result of their well-meant efforts was that Joseph 
 gave the Senators a tongue-lashing the like of which United 
 States Senators have rarely been subjected to. Joseph fairly 
 excoriated them, and worse than that, he was in the right. 
 
 Our accommodations for the journey from Washington 
 consisted of a splendid Pullman sleeping-car (special) and 
 a luxurious dining-car, and most sumptuously did we fare 
 on the best of everything there was to eat. Champagne was 
 served even at breakfast as well as at other meals, and was 
 also at the service of any one who wanted it between meals. 
 There were only four Senators, but including ladies, men 
 guests, and Senate attaches our company numbered some 
 thirty people. 
 
 Joseph's camp with its brown tepees was very pictu- 
 resque. Seats for the Senators had been placed in a grove of 
 oaks. The rest of us stood behind the chairs of the Solons, 
 and, we flattered ourselves, made a very dignified and im- 
 posing picture, shaded as we were by magnificent trees, 
 amongst which were the wigwams of the Indians, and be- 
 tween the trees a glimpse of the almost limitless prairie 
 could be had. 
 
 At the foot of a gigantic tree, leaning with his back against 
 it, sat Chief Joseph with his braves seated in a semicircle 
 around him. They were at least a hundred and fifty yards 
 from where the Senators had taken up their position. When 
 
380 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 all was ready for the "pow-wow," the chairman of the com- 
 mittee sent the assistant sergeant-at-arms, with me as his 
 aide-de-camp (?), to give Joseph permission to approach the 
 august presence and receive a scolding. We walked up to 
 the silent chief, who neither rose nor deigned to look at 
 us. Christy, the assistant sergeant-at-arms, gave him the 
 message through an Indian interpreter. Joseph's reply was 
 that he had not sent for the Senators, nor did he care par- 
 ticularly to talk to them, but if they had anything to say to 
 him they could come over to where he was seated and say 
 it. The programme had been that Joseph was to stand in 
 front of the seated Senators while they read the "riot act" 
 to him, but the wily savage had no intention of occupying 
 any such undignified position. He refused to budge. As 
 the mountain would not come to Mohammed, the Senators 
 were compelled to go to Joseph, or else give up the confer- 
 ence. They decided to go — and soon found themselves 
 standing in the presence of the seated savage monarch. 
 
 Patterson, the carpetbag Senator from South Carolina, 
 was the chairman. He was not an impressive speaker, and 
 used many awkward gestures, sawing the air with his arms 
 when orating. He was also very vehement in his style, and 
 plunged right into his subject, scolding Joseph for his sins of 
 commission and omission. When he got through two more 
 Senators took an oratorical fling at "Lo the poor Indian." 
 All this time Joseph and his braves sat wrapped in their 
 blankets — and silence. When the Senators had finished 
 their tirades, Joseph, a magnificent specimen of the red man, 
 standing, as he did, over six feet high in his moccasins, slowly 
 arose, and as he did so his blanket gradually slipped from 
 his shoulders to the ground leaving him clothed only in the 
 eagle feathers of his headdress and a breech- clout. The 
 first words he uttered were to ask the Senators if they had 
 finished, and on being assured that they had, he began an 
 oration, which, although it had to be translated by an inter- 
 preter, for eloquence and pathos I have rarely, if ever, heard 
 
Chief Joseph as an Orator 381 
 
 equaled. He described how his tribe had dwelt on their 
 lands, which the Great Spirit had given them, from time 
 immemorial; how game was plentiful, and life was pleasant; 
 how they had been kind to the first white settlers who had 
 come to Oregon, and how when more came they had assisted 
 them; how when the whites had become more numerous 
 they had fenced in the land for their cattle, spoiling the 
 "hunting; and finally how the whites had ordered his people 
 to "get out " ! He told how when a little boy his father made 
 him promise that he never would part with any of the lands 
 to the pale faces, or any one else, and that all the tales of 
 settlers to the effect that the Indians had sold them land 
 were false. He then went on to tell the reasons why he went 
 on the war path. He described his pursuit by the army, and 
 claimed that he had defeated the soldiers in every engage- 
 ment ; how in one battle the troops had bravely charged his 
 rifle pits and some of them had fallen within his lines, and, 
 having no medical facilities, under a flag of truce he had 
 sent the wounded soldiers to General Howard's camp to be 
 made well. He called the attention of the Senators to the 
 fact, which he said he could prove by the soldiers, that 
 neither his braves nor himself had ever scalped a dead or a 
 wounded white man. He also asserted that, though he was 
 the victor in the fighting, under a flag of truce, as he did not 
 wish to prolong the strife, he had agreed to accompany the 
 soldiers to the nearest settlement where there was a fort and 
 surrender on condition that he and his warriors should be 
 sent back to Oregon; that, instead of keeping faith with 
 him, they had disarmed his braves, and then had brought 
 them to this unhealthy country. He added that it appeared 
 to him the whites were afraid to fight, like men, in the 
 open, and had sent them to this pest-hole to be killed by 
 fever. He said that he had brought several hundred braves 
 to this place and asked the Senators if they saw them around 
 him. Pointing to a near-by graveyard he answered his 
 own question by saying, "No; they lie over there, killed by 
 
382 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 your fevers!" He boldly denounced the Indian agent as a 
 dishonest and immoral man, accusing him of stealing the 
 rations and medicines the Government sent for his use, and 
 called attention to several Indian girls who were gaudily 
 dressed in the attire of white women, with their necks and 
 arms bedizened with pinchbeck jewelry; he told the Sena- 
 tors that those young women had once been honest squaws, 
 contented with their blankets, and intended for wives for 
 his young men, but with those trinkets and bright-colored 
 calicos, the Indian agent and his white assistants had led 
 them astray. 
 
 When Joseph had finished his arraignment of the whites, 
 without saying so much as "By your leave," he picked up 
 his blanket, wrapped it around him, and, followed by his 
 warriors, he was dignity, outraged dignity, personified as he 
 walked away and sought the seclusion of his tepee. 
 
CHAPTER XLV 
 
 "Fighting Bob" Evans gets me employment with Governor Alexander R. 
 Shepherd and I go to Mexico — My brother, P. H. Morgan, is appointed 
 U.S. Minister to Mexico — San Antonio, Texas, where we buy a herd of un- 
 broken mules — The Canon de las Iglesias — Dangers of the mountain trail — 
 Batopilas — The San Miguel silver mine — Governor Shepherd as an executive 
 
 — A law unto himself, he wins the favor of Porfirio Diaz — In Bonanza — 
 My conducta carries a hundred and forty thousand dollars in silver bars to 
 Chihuahua — Instinct of the mountain mule — Beware of the polite Mexican 
 
 — Narrow escape from falling into the hands of Victoria, the Apache Chief 
 
 — The mountain trail strewn with silver bars. 
 
 During the whole time I was an attach^ of the Senate I 
 was longing for some more suitable position, and in 1880-81 
 I confided my wishes to my old classmate in my Annapolis 
 days, Rear Admiral Robley D. Evans, popularly known as 
 "Fighting Bob." 
 
 Alexander R. Shepherd, formerly Governor of the District 
 of Columbia, was organizing a mining expedition to go to 
 Batopilas, Mexico. Admiral, then Captain Evans, recom- 
 mended me to Governor Shepherd as a good man to take 
 charge of the conductas, as the mule trains carrying bullion 
 to Mazatlan on the Pacific, on one side of the mountains, 
 and Chihuahua, on the other, were called. 
 
 Before we started I learned that my elder brother, Philip 
 Hicky Morgan, the United States Judge of the International 
 Court in Egypt, had been appointed United States Envoy 
 Extraordinary and Minister Plenipotentiary to Mexico. 
 This appointment only increased my desire to see that won- 
 derful land, accounts of which I had greedily listened to in 
 the days of my childhood when the Mexican War veterans 
 talked of little else. 
 
 Governor Shepherd was taking his whole family to 
 Mexico with him, and was also accompanied by some half- 
 dozen friends, all of whom evidently expected to "get rich 
 quick." A large number of people were gathered at the 
 
384 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 station to see the Governor off and wish him bon voyage and 
 all manner of good luck. We left Washington in style, 
 traveling in a private car and having every luxury money 
 could buy. Our first stop was in St. Louis, Missouri, where 
 we spent two or three very pleasant days before proceeding 
 to San Antonio, Texas, where the Governor bought a herd of 
 wild mules, a number of wagons, and a couple of ambulances 
 for the convenience of his family. He also engaged a num- 
 ber of cowboys, and it was very Interesting and exciting 
 to watch them while engaged in breaking in the wild mules 
 who never before had known even the restraining influence 
 of a rope. 
 
 After some three weeks of toilsome travel over the 
 desert-like plains we reached the Rio Grande at a little 
 town called Presidio del Norte, and after fussing for two 
 or three days with the Mexican customs officials we pro- 
 ceeded to Chihuahua, Mexico, where the Governor had to 
 sell the American mules and buy a new herd of mountain- 
 bred ones to carry the packs over the Sierra Madres. We 
 used the American animals to haul the wagons to Ysabel, 
 some thirty miles from Chihuahua, a town without houses 
 situated at the commencement of the foothills of the Sierra 
 Madre Mountains. The inhabitants were cave-dwellers. 
 We had been told that they were there, but on our arrival, 
 as we saw neither houses nor people, we wondered, and 
 some of us proceeded to investigate the mystery. We 
 climbed the rocky hill and soon located the holes in the 
 side of it in which the Indians lived. I entered one of these 
 caves, which was about eight feet in diameter, and found 
 a man and his wife and three children. An old iron skillet, 
 a stone on which they ground their corn, and two goats, 
 comprised their worldly goods. The Indians apparently 
 had no curiosity concerning us and had not even taken the 
 trouble to look at our large cavalcade. 
 
 At Ysabel the wagons were unloaded and their contents 
 packed on the backs of the little squirrel-like mountain 
 
Mountain Pack-Mules 385 
 
 mules. This operation was very interesting to watch. A 
 Mexican would lasso a mule and then blindfold him ; until 
 this was done no power on earth could have cinched a pack- 
 saddle on the animal's back. This blindfold was shaped 
 like the eye-shades used by clerks to protect their sight 
 from the glare of electric lights. With the older mules this 
 operation was merely perfunctory, as the muleteers would 
 carelessly hang the string over one ear and let the blind- 
 fold dangle by the side of the animal's jaw. Of course the 
 mule saw everything that was being done to him, but 
 without that cloth somewhere about his head it was at the 
 risk of life that any one approached him, and the Mexican, 
 although usually brutal in his methods with animals, made 
 that concession to the mule's prejudices. 
 
 As nearly as it was possible to do so, the packs which 
 each mule carried were made to weigh three hundred 
 pounds. As soon as the load was well cinched to their 
 backs, the mules were turned loose, but made no attempt 
 to escape. The secret of this was that the old white bell 
 mare was securely tethered. As soon as all was ready for 
 the start the bell mare was led to the trail and started 
 upon it, and the bridleless little animals fell in behind her 
 in Indian file and the eight-day mountain journey com- 
 menced. 
 
 We had not traveled very far before we entered the 
 Caiion de las Iglesias, or "Canon of the Churches," where 
 we saw one of the grandest and most magnificent spec- 
 tacles. The precipitous sides of the cafion rose to a height 
 of from five hundred to two thousand feet, and the face of 
 the rock at intervals took on the appearance of great cathe- 
 drals. No imagination is required to discern the spires, 
 towers, and minarets, and several of them have a plainly 
 marked Gothic-arched entrance extending for some feet 
 back into the rock. It seemed hard to realize that they were 
 the work of the elements and not of some gigantic race of 
 men. Some of these cathedrals of nature are beautifully 
 
386 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 proportioned and deeply impressed the least imaginative 
 members of our party. 
 
 The trail across the mountains is very rough and in 
 some places dangerous. At one point a chasm some two 
 hundred and fifty yards wide is spanned by a ridge only 
 about three feet wide at the top. There are holes in it all 
 the way across for the mules to put their feet in to avoid 
 the possibility of slipping; there is a sheer fall of three thou- 
 sand feet to the bottom on one side and seven thousand on 
 the other. No one is allowed to cross on foot, and those 
 who are susceptible to dizziness have to be blindfolded. 
 The scenery along the trail is magnificent. At times we 
 could look down and see the buzzards gracefully circling 
 above the clouds. It is a strange sensation to see lightning 
 below you and to hear the rumbling of the thunder as it 
 rises to your level. 
 
 We had to ford several mountain streams which, after 
 heavy rains or a cloudburst, are very dangerous, and we 
 passed within sight of a few Indian villages, perched high 
 up on a mountain-side, whose inhabitants fled on perceiv- 
 ing us, driving their goats ahead of them, and soon disap- 
 pearing among the crags. With others I visited one of these 
 abandoned villages and found that the Indians had left 
 behind them all of their belongings that were not edible. 
 From time immemorial they have been subjected to such 
 cruelties by the Mexicans that they take no chances of 
 coming into contact with them if they can possibly 
 avoid it. 
 
 On our arrival at the hacienda of the San Miguel mine, 
 which Governor Shepherd had purchased from Mr. Fargo, 
 of the famous express company, things began to be doing, 
 and the native had his first experience with an example of 
 the genus hustler. 
 
 The town of Batopilas, situated on the right bank of 
 the river of that name, is about a mile below the hacienda. 
 Its inhabitants, with few exceptions, were miners, who 
 
The San Miguel Mine 387 
 
 had been out of employment for a long time, as the mining 
 industry had been at a standstill for several years. 
 
 To reach the town from the hacienda it was necessary to 
 cross the river, a very rapid stream flowing through the 
 narrow canon whose precipitous sides rose to a height of 
 two or three thousand feet, shutting out a glimpse of the 
 sun from before ten o'clock in the morning and after three 
 in the afternoon. 
 
 The San Miguel mine was situated about half a mile 
 above the hacienda. The tunnel leading into it was a little 
 above the high-water mark, and after entering it we dis- 
 covered that, contrary to all of our preconceived ideas, 
 the miners mined upward instead of downward. Out of 
 this mine several millions of dollars of silver had in the 
 past been taken out. It was what is called a "pocket" 
 mine, and marvelous stories were told by the natives about 
 the great riches some of the pockets had contained. The 
 roofs of some of the ancient pockets were sustained by 
 great columns of rock out of which "native" silver, as it is 
 called, protruded in the shape of nails. The richness of 
 these old pillars could not be questioned, but it was 
 against the law to touch them, as they were kept for the 
 protection of the miners. 
 
 Before Governor Shepherd had been at the hacienda 
 twenty-four hours both it and the mine took on the appear- 
 ance of a busy beehive. The notoriously lazy Mexicans 
 suddenly discovered that they could move at the double- 
 quick under the magnetic eye of their new ruler. It seemed 
 as though by instinct the natives instantly recognized the 
 big man as a born ruler, and he was in fact one of the 
 ablest executives it was ever my good fortune to know. 
 He seemed instinctively to know everything, although this 
 was his first experience in mining. He was a man who was 
 fond of luxury and would send for miles to some snow- 
 capped peak for snow to make for himself a cooling drink, 
 and while sitting on the piazza in a comfortable chair, 
 
388 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 enjoying a fine cigar, no man could pass within the radius 
 of his vision that he did not instantly know what that fel- 
 low could do best, and what he ought to be doing at that 
 moment. 
 
 The Governor had brought with him a large amount 
 of paper money which he had had printed in New York. 
 He at once opened a store at the hacienda and told the 
 miners that he intended to pay them with this paper money 
 and that they could buy what they wanted at the store 
 with it, and the miners greedily accepted his offer. Then, 
 to their amazement he ordered them to knock down those 
 rich columns containing Heaven only knows how much 
 native silver to the ton ! 
 
 Naturally there were storekeepers and others who be- 
 came envious, and they reported to the Government at the 
 City of Mexico how the Governor had defied the law both 
 in the matter of the columns and in the issuing of paper 
 money without the consent of the authorities. But a little 
 thing like that did not faze the Governor. The row got 
 him into communication with the President, Don Porfirio 
 Diaz, and soon this extraordinary Washington man had 
 authority to do pretty much as he pleased in the Batopilas 
 district, and even the mighty jeje politico, or sheriff, was 
 courting his favor. 
 
 In a very short time the columns were ground into dust, 
 the silver extracted and cast into bars weighing about a 
 hundred pounds each, two of these bars were strapped 
 to the pack-saddle of each mule, and I was started with 
 my conducta, carrying a hundred and forty thousand dol- 
 lars worth of silver, on the trail to Chihuahua. At Chi- 
 huahua the silver was turned over to a regular freighter 
 whose wagon train took it across the American boundary. 
 
 No sooner had I arrived in Chihuahua than a report 
 spread that Shepherd had struck a new and immensely 
 rich pocket in the San Miguel mine which was once more 
 in bonanza, and the news of my arrival with the treasure 
 
Instinct of the Mountain Mule 389 
 
 was telegraphed to the United States causing quite a flurry 
 in mining circles. This was the beginning of the great 
 boom inaugurated in Mexican mines by American pro- 
 moters, in which millions of dollars, in good money, were 
 invested. Worked-out mines were plentiful and cheap. 
 Doubtless, if one only dug deep enough, a silver mine could 
 be found anywhere in Mexico. 
 
 Sometimes I carried the bullion to Mazatlan on the 
 Pacific Coast, but the trail to Chihuahua was by far 
 the most picturesque and interesting. Occasionally in the 
 rainy season we would come to a mountain stream that 
 was a raging torrent and impossible to ford, and then we 
 had to sit down by the side of it and wait for the waters 
 to subside. Of course we had no conveniences for carrying 
 tents, and when it rained we got wet, and when the sun 
 came out we got dry again. 
 
 We usually traveled about twenty miles a day, but the 
 distance depended upon favorable camping-spots. When 
 the day's journey was over, the mules were lassoed, blind- 
 folded, and hobbled, their loads and pack-saddles removed, 
 and then the blindfolds were taken off, and they were 
 allowed to graze on the mountain-sides — if one can call 
 it grazing where no two spears of grass are within ten feet 
 of each other. These hardy little animals, however, even 
 with their front feet tied together, could climb like goats, 
 and succeeded in getting from such scanty pasturage suffi- 
 cient sustenance to enable them day after day to climb up 
 rugged mountains with from two to three hundred pounds 
 on their backs. Sometimes in the morning our start would 
 be delayed on account of their having strayed three or 
 four miles away during the night. 
 
 The intelligence — or instinct, if one prefers to call it 
 such — of these mountain mules is most extraordinary. 
 We were going through an arroyo one afternoon, the bed 
 of the stream perfectly dry, and its banks so precipitous 
 that it seemed impossible a hoofed animal could climb them, 
 
390 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 when without any apparent cause a panic or stampede 
 occurred, and in less time than it takes to tell it those mules, 
 with their heavy packs, were climbing up the precipitous 
 sides of the cliffs as though they were squirrels. The 
 Mexicans followed them, on foot, while wildly crying to 
 me to follow their example. I needed no persuasion, as 
 my mule became unmanageable, took the bit in his teeth, 
 and scampered up the steep bank as nimbly as the others. 
 Perched upon a ledge, some thirty feet above the trail, I 
 soon learned the cause of the excitement, as in a few min- 
 utes I heard a mighty roar and then saw a wall of water 
 some fifteen feet in height rushing down the arroyo. The 
 Mexicans explained to me that there had been a cloud- 
 burst up in the mountains, and that the rush of the torrent 
 was so great that but for the sense of the so-called "stupid " 
 mules, we should all have been swept to our deaths. 
 
 This life on the trail was naturally one of hardship and 
 privation. When we camped (going toward Chihuahua), I 
 always made the men lay the silver bars close together on 
 the ground and on these I made my bed by spreading my 
 poncho, or rubber sheet, and my blanket over them. Pauper 
 as I was, many is the night I slept on a fortune. My poncho 
 was my sole protection from the weather in the rainy season, 
 and when returning to Batopilas with the mules laden with 
 goods, machinery, or provisions, I had, like the others, to 
 sleep on the bare rock or ground, and many a morning 
 found that I had a tarantula or a scorpion for a bedfellow, 
 but I never saw any one bitten by these creatures. Rattle- 
 snakes at high altitudes are also fond of human companion- 
 ship and warmth, and are disposed to creep under a man's 
 blanket or cuddle up alongside of him while he sleeps, but 
 a hair rope laid in a circle around one's sleeping-place will 
 prevent their too near approach. 
 
 These journeys were very lonely to me. I usually had 
 with me eight or ten men to manage the mules, but their so- 
 ciety was not very comforting ; I much prefered the com- 
 
Narrow Escape from Apaches 391 
 
 pany of the long-eared fraternity "who had neither pride of 
 ancestry nor hope of progeny." I never met a Mexican who 
 did not try to impress me with the idea that the only way 
 one of them could be managed was by showing him great 
 deference and extreme politeness ; but I found by experience 
 that military discipline — fearless enforcing of orders — 
 worked to much greater advantage. The man who enters 
 into a bowing contest with a Mexican has lost before he 
 starts. When a Mexican means mischief he always ad- 
 vances on the man whom he intends to harm with his 
 serape, or blanket, closely drawn about him, hiding both 
 hands, and then he begins by paying his intended victim 
 fulsome compliments, drawing nearer and nearer all the 
 time, until close enough to use his wicked knife. Naturally 
 I had occasional trouble with some of my men as to the 
 propriety of their obeying orders, and when one of them 
 would go into a frenzy of rage and then suddenly control 
 himself and pretend that he wanted to apologize and would 
 approach me, I simply would draw my pistol and order him 
 to open his blanket, and never failed to find the ready knife 
 concealed in its folds. I would make the fellow stand where 
 he was and wait without argument until he had cooled off. 
 I never found that they bore malice for any length of time, 
 and besides they had quite a respect for any one who was 
 handy with a gun. 
 
 On one of my trips I came within a hair's breadth of los- 
 ing my hair. I had made a very hurried journey to Chihua- 
 hua with some two hundred silver bars, worth a thousand 
 dollars each, which Governor Shepherd was very anxious to 
 have reach the town before the regular day for the monthly 
 freight wagon train to start for the American border, as 
 he had an arrangement with American bankers by which 
 he could draw bills against silver shipments as soon as the 
 bullion crossed the Rio Grande. Despite every exertion, I 
 was detained by swollen mountain streams and arrived at 
 Chihuahua too late to catch the wagons. According to my 
 
392 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 instructions I turned the silver bars over to Mr. Macmanus, 
 the Governor's agent, who insisted that I should put the 
 silver into ambulances and try to catch up with the wagon 
 train, which only had two days the start of me, and which 
 only traveled at the rate of about ten miles a day. Mr. 
 Macmanus urged this course because he said he knew how 
 important it was for the Governor to have the shipment 
 reach the border as soon as possible. At first I agreed to go, 
 and the hour for my departure was fixed for seven o'clock 
 the next morning. I was tired and hungry, and going to the 
 little inn quickly ate my chile con came and tortillas and 
 then went to bed. 
 
 I thought little of the race I was to make after the wagons, 
 as it was all in the day's work, and when day broke I arose, 
 quickly dressed, and proceeded to Mr. Macmanus's store to 
 await the ambulances. The vehicles, each drawn by four 
 fresh mules, arrived on time, the silver bars were placed in 
 them, I bade Mr. Macmanus and his partner good-bye, my 
 foot was on the step of the ambulance, and I was about to 
 give the word to start, when suddenly a queer sensation came 
 over me and the idea flashed through my brain that I had no 
 right to take this great responsibility on myself. I withdrew 
 my foot from the step and told the agent that I had decided 
 not to go! He was shocked and amazed; tried persuasion, 
 and threats as to what Governor Shepherd would do if the 
 bullion failed to make the connection, etc.; but I replied 
 that my instructions were explicit, and that they simply 
 ordered me to deliver the silver to Macmanus & Co. at Chi- 
 huahua; and that I declined the responsibility of making a 
 dash toward the border with it unless I had clear instruc- 
 tions from Governor Shepherd to that effect. I asked them 
 how, if by any accident I lost the treasure, I could explain 
 why, without orders, I was speeding for the border with it, 
 when my instructions were to deliver it in Chihuahua and 
 take a receipt for it. At all events, I would not go. 
 
 At twelve o'clock I was still in Macmanus's store super- 
 
A Narrow Escape from the Apaches 393 
 
 intending the packing of some goods I was to take back to 
 Batopilas, when suddenly I heard men in front of the store 
 talking in a most excited manner. A peon from Mr. Mac- 
 manus's hacienda, situated about twelve miles distant, had 
 come to Chihuahua at full speed, as the condition of the 
 horse he rode plainly showed. The man reported that at 
 nine o'clock that morning Victoria, chief of the Apaches, 
 with his band, had attacked the hacienda, killed and out- 
 raged many of the residents, — in fact all who were not 
 quick enough to get away and hide; that he had looted the 
 buildings, and driven off all the stock! Had I started with 
 the silver I was to have made my first change of mules at 
 this hacienda, and I most probably would have arrived there 
 simultaneously with Victoria, who was every bit as cruel 
 a savage as his successor Geronimo. Instead of having any 
 more fault found with my want of enterprise, I received 
 many compliments, and much praise for my good judg- 
 ment — and extraordinary foresight (?), etc. 
 
 On one of my trips from Batopilas to Mazatlan on the 
 Pacific Coast with a conducta of over a hundred thousand 
 dollars worth of silver bars, we came to a place in the moun- 
 tains where the trail was literally strewn with silver bars, 
 and not a man or a mule was to be seen. The bars lay on 
 the ground some thirty to sixty yards apart and there were 
 a great many of them. My men were certain that a conducta 
 had been attacked by ladrones and urged me to hurry on, as 
 they feared the bandits would return for their booty as soon 
 as they had driven its lawful guardians well away. To tell 
 the truth, by that time I knew the Mexicans well enough to 
 know that had I stopped and tried to save the bullion, I 
 would have received scant thanks from its rightful owners. 
 My men also begged me not to say anything about it, as 
 they feared they would be imprisoned until the bandits were 
 captured — a very indefinite period, indeed. I sympathized 
 with my peons, for a Mexican jail is no joke. It is expected 
 by the authorities that a prisoner's family will feed him, and 
 
394 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 if he has no money or friends, the only things he is given to 
 eat are soup, made from the heads and shin bones of some 
 unfortunate animal, and a crust of coarse bread not fit for 
 human beings to eat. I visited one of the jails once and a 
 filthier place it would be hard to imagine. 
 
CHAPTER XLVI 
 
 Resign position as chief of conductas and start for home via Mazatlan and 
 San Francisco — Alamos — Witness marriage between a Mexican girl and a 
 German — New York — A dress-suit my chief asset — Return to Mexico 
 and become a civil engineer (?) — Primitive coaching — Queretaro and its 
 opal mines. 
 
 To the wanderer in strange lands home becomes endowed 
 with all sorts of advantages which had not been perceived 
 before he roamed away from it. The fact that he left be- 
 cause he Could not make a living there is entirely forgotten. 
 My life on the trail was one of hardship, and I could see no 
 prospect of bettering it if I spent the rest of my days on one 
 mule while driving others up and down the mountain-sides. 
 In the lonely hours of the night I thought of many things 
 I could do if I could only once more put my foot on my 
 native heath. A job appears to be about the easiest thing 
 in the world to get to a man who is not in need of one. 
 
 I resigned my position as chief of conductas, and Governor 
 Shepherd made arrangements for me to accompany, on my 
 way home, one Don Ramon, a merchant in Batopilas who 
 was about to start for Mazatlan with a conducta. Young 
 Lyman Learned, of Pittsfield, Massachusetts, a boy of 
 eighteen, who was in ill health, also took advantage of the 
 opportunity to return to the States, or "God's own coun- 
 try," as self-exiled Americans call it. 
 
 There is no race on earth that the Mexicans, high or low, 
 hate as they do the Americans, and Don Ramon did not 
 hanker after our company and made no secret of the fact. 
 But to avoid incurring the displeasure of the all-powerful 
 Governor Shepherd, he, with rather bad grace, consented 
 to allow the two Gringos to ride along the same trail in 
 sight of His Highness's mules. 
 
 "Gringo," being interpreted, means the "unintelligible," 
 and is an expression of contempt applied to all Americans. 
 
396 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 Arriving at the town of Alamos, we spent two days making 
 arrangements to have our mules returned to Batopilas and 
 also waiting for a tri-weekly stage that would take us to the 
 coast of the Gulf of California and from thence to Mazatlan. 
 While at Alamos we saw a rather unique ceremony. A young 
 German was to be married to the daughter of a prosperous 
 Mexican merchant, and before the ceremony could be per- 
 formed he had to be taken to the fountain, in the centre of 
 the plaza on which the church was situated, where he was 
 stripped and publicly bathed. A sheet was then wrapped 
 around him; and he walked to the steps which led up to 
 the portals of the church, where he was made to crawl on all 
 fours until he reached the door; then he was made to get 
 down on his belly and wriggle his way up the aisle to the 
 chancel rail, where he was again permitted to stand erect 
 while he renounced Protestantism ; after which he was con- 
 ducted to the vestry, where he arrayed himself in his best 
 clothes and returned to meet his bride at the altar and the 
 ceremony was at last performed. 
 
 A wedding in Mexico was at this time a most expensive 
 luxury. I was told that no priest would marry a couple, 
 even if they were peons, for a smaller fee than three hun- 
 dred dollars, and in that day no peon could hope to save 
 that amount, from his scant wages of five or ten cents for 
 a day's work, in a lifetime. So the poorer classes just did 
 without the blessing of the Church, and I must say, to the 
 credit of the Mexicans, that it rarely, if ever, happens that 
 one of them deserts the mother of his children. 
 
 Learned and I took passage in a steamer bound for San 
 Francisco, and singular to relate she proved to be the iden- 
 tical ship I had once made a voyage in from Charleston, 
 South Carolina, to New York nearly twenty years before. 
 Remembering some acrobatics the old "water-bruiser" had 
 performed off Cape Hatteras on that occasion, I earnestly 
 prayed that we should not butt into one of those not in- 
 frequent gales that the Pacific is famed for. 
 
Back in New York 397 
 
 After a short and pleasant stay in San Francisco, Learned 
 and I started on our tedious overland journey to New York, 
 where I found myself in a few days and at once went in 
 search of that employment which had seemed so easy to 
 obtain in my day-dreams when following the lonely trail in 
 Mexico. But in the turmoil of New York's busy streets 
 there seemed to be no place for dreamers of vague dreams, 
 and I soon found myself wandering about with no very 
 definite object in view. I did not know how to ask a stranger 
 to give me employment, and if the stranger had asked me 
 what I could do, I could only have anwered, "Reef, furl, 
 and steer, a little navigation, ride a horse, and some little 
 knowledge as to how sugar cane and cotton seed ought to 
 be planted," and I began to have grave doubts as to whether 
 my accomplishments would make me an invaluable em- 
 ployee in a counting-house. 
 
 I suppose every man has his little fad, idiosyncrasy, or 
 peculiarity secreted some place about his person ; at least all 
 the men I have ever met carried around some pet foible. 
 Among my acquaintances the man who came nearest to 
 being free from fads was a millionaire who was lavish in his 
 hospitality, and as generous as a prince ought to be ; but alas, 
 his pet and only economy was the saving of matches and it 
 really hurt his feelings to see one wasted. 
 
 One of my idiosyncrasies was a dress-suit. Through hope 
 and despondency I clung to mine in whatever part of the 
 world I was, and it never failed to reward me by securing 
 for me a good time which, had I not been so loyal to it, 
 would have been impossible. So after tramping the streets in 
 the business district downtown all day, I would seek that 
 dress-suit when the shades of evening ended my fruitless 
 quest, and as I donned it my dejected air as by magic disap- 
 peared, and once more I became the man of the world with- 
 out a care, usually spending my evenings at some entertain- 
 ment at the houses of my wealthy friends, or at the clubs, to 
 several of which I always had cards of invitation when in 
 
398 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 New York. Many of my friends would have gladly assisted 
 me in getting employment, but how can a man be helped 
 in that way when he becomes speechless as the first busi- 
 ness conundrum is asked him — "What do you know how 
 to do?" 
 
 To the impecunious man the day to "move on" comes 
 sooner or later, generally sooner. I one day met the captain 
 of a steamer which was about to sail for Vera Cruz, and 
 taking a fancy to me, the skipper invited me to accompany 
 him, as his guest, on the voyage. Of course I accepted, and 
 on the ship met a Mr. Van Vleck, a civil engineer, who, 
 accompanied by his son and three other young men, was on 
 his way to Mexico in the employment of the Mexican Cen- 
 tral Railroad, a corporation which at that time had recently 
 been formed. Mr. Van Vleck informed me that his engineer- 
 ing party was complete with the exception of a "topog- 
 rapher" and offered me the position. When I told him I 
 had no knowledge of the work, he brushed aside my scruples 
 by saying that he would teach me, and of course I was per- 
 fectly delighted with the opportunity. 
 
 At Vera Cruz the American Consul informed me that my 
 brother, the Minister, was spending a few days at Orizaba, 
 and I at once proceeded to that place to visit him. After a 
 few pleasant days spent with my brother and his family, I 
 had once more to come down from my high horse, as the 
 brother of the representative of the United States, and go 
 to work as a "sub" in the engineering party, which I joined 
 in the City of Mexico. We proceeded by stage-coach to 
 Leon where we were to commence our work. 
 
 Traveling by stage-coach in Mexico (before the days of 
 the railroads) was a most exhilarating and exciting experi- 
 ence. Besides the very rough roads and beautiful scenery 
 there was always the possibility, if not probability, of hav- 
 ing a brush with bandits, and the certainty of an upset at 
 more or less frequent intervals. The stage-coaches were 
 drawn by nine mules — two at the pole, four in the "swing," 
 
Traveling in Mexico by Stage-Coach 399 
 
 and three in the lead. The stage-driver was a man of great 
 importance whom every one treated with marked deference. 
 He never condescended to do anything but drive, and along- 
 side of him, on the box seat, was his mozo or servant. At 
 his right was a stand containing three varieties of whips 
 with lashes of various lengths for use on the wheelers, or the 
 mules in the swing, and the longest was for use on the lead- 
 ers, who were so far away that it was difficult to reach them 
 with any accuracy. This difficulty was provided against by 
 the mozo supplying himself with a bucketful of pebbles, 
 which he threw with such accuracy that he could hit either 
 ear of any mule in the lead, especially if he was offered a 
 small coin for an exhibition of his skill. Of course the con- 
 trol of that number of hard-headed and hard-mouthed mules 
 was accomplished principally by a powerful brake on which, 
 by placing his foot on the lever, the driver could throw his 
 whole weight. 
 
 Occasionally when the mules were changed at a hacienda 
 a perfectly wild and untrained one would be brought out and 
 blindfolded and then most unceremoniously thrown down 
 and his feet tied ; while in that uncomfortable position the 
 harness would be put on him and he would be hitched to 
 the stage as one of the inside mules of the swing. Then the 
 other mules would be placed and the wild animal's feet 
 untied, the blindfold removed as the driver shouted to his 
 team, and away they would go at the gallop while the 
 frenzied and frightened wild mule would be plunging and 
 kicking and throwing himself on the ground in his despera- 
 tion. But the rest of the team never wavered or hesitated 
 in their mad race, and whether lying on his side or kicking, 
 the unruly one was dragged along until he learned that it 
 was more comfortable to gallop with the rest than to be 
 dragged over the rough stones on his side. The lesson was 
 usually learned in a mile or two. 
 
 On our way to Leon we passed through the rather pretty 
 city of Queretaro, near which the Emperor Maximilian 
 
400 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 was so cruelly put to death. One of the most singular traits 
 of the Spanish race is their fastidiousness about the place 
 where they murder an honorable enemy. They must have 
 a wall to put his back against. The wall, or something 
 equally as good, is an absolute requisite properly to stage 
 the sport. About two miles from Queretaro, standing alone 
 in a broad and level prairie, rises a solitary rock some hun- 
 dred feet long and about thirty feet high with a precipitous 
 side, and poor Maximilian, who after his capture was im- 
 prisoned in the city, was taken all that distance before his 
 execution so that his murderers could have a fitting back- 
 ground for the tragedy. 
 
 Another thing for which Queretaro is famous is Its opal 
 mines. I was fortunate enough to obtain permission to enter 
 one of these mines, and lit up by torches the interior fur- 
 nished one of the most beautiful sights that eye ever beheld. 
 It was like fairyland. The multi-colored jewels reflected the 
 light from the dome, the sides, and the floor of the cave. 
 There were pieces of opal, protruding from the walls, which 
 were as large as a man's body, and I no longer wondered 
 why opals were cheap in Mexico. At the hotel I bought a 
 handful of small stones from a peon, who seemed gleeful 
 when I paid him with a Mexican silver dollar. I was after- 
 wards informed by the proprietor of the inn that I had 
 been outrageously swindled, as had he known I wanted to 
 buy opals he would have furnished me with twice the 
 number for half the price. 
 
CHAPTER XLVII 
 
 Leon, the city whose sole industry is the carving of leather and making of 
 saddles — Running trial lines on the gallop — La Piedad — Did n't flop 
 quick enough and got stoned — The brave peccary — The strangler tree — The 
 tree that bleeds blood — Come upon a murdered man lying on the road — 
 The volcano of Colima — General Grant only likes rebels who fought — Mr. 
 Gilmore comes near losing his life in the Jule River — Return to the States 
 to finance a silver mine. 
 
 On our arrival at Leon we were surprised to find so large 
 and thriving a city so far in the interior and of whose exist- 
 ence we had theretofore been ignorant. The secret of its 
 prosperity lay in the fact that it was the centre of the sad- 
 dlery and carved leather industry for which it is famed in 
 Mexico. 
 
 We bought horses and saddles and engaged mozos (serv- 
 ants who care for the horses), for this unique surveying 
 party was to be mounted. The reason for this was that 
 there was a rival corporation in the field and the one which 
 first got its maps to the City of Mexico would obtain the 
 rich concession. 
 
 We took our departure from Leon, and when we had got 
 well out of sight of the place, the race began. The "flag" 
 man would be sent at the gallop as far ahead as he could be 
 seen by the "transit" man, and the "chain" men measured 
 the distance on the trot. As soon as they were far enough 
 ahead, the transit stand was folded and given in charge to a 
 mounted peon and he and the engineer put spurs to their 
 horses and caught up with the flag. The work of the man 
 with the level and of the topographer was necessarily slower, 
 and after the start we rarely saw the party again until we 
 rejoined them, sometimes late in the night, at the camp or 
 village where they slept. In this manner we sometimes 
 went over as much as thirty miles in a day, but as the very 
 rough work was to be done over again before any railroad 
 
402 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 was built, it did not matter. The concession was the thing 
 to get, and after that was secured the engineers that were to 
 follow would do the real work. At towns like Irapuato, La 
 Piedad, etc., we would stop for days while the maps were 
 being made, and as soon as finished they were hurried on to 
 the City of Mexico and the concession claimed. They were 
 very pretty maps and served their purpose well, but I should 
 have hated to be a contractor who based his estimates on 
 them. 
 
 This surveying expedition was a very interesting experi- 
 ence to me. My duties necessitated my riding for miles 
 away from the line, and although I had few adventures 
 worthy of being recounted, still I saw much of the country 
 that was of interest, such as visiting a silver mine situated 
 on the top of a mountain so high that the snow never 
 melted, and going down the mountain-side, in less than an 
 hour, I found myself in a country where oranges, pineapples, 
 and bananas grew luxuriantly. 
 
 While in La Piedad I had a somewhat unpleasant experi- 
 ence owing to my ignorance of the manners and customs of 
 the people. La Piedad, as its name indicates, is a very reli- 
 gious town. I was walking on the principal street one day 
 when a religious procession came along. I saw the people 
 kneel on the dirty roadway as the crucifix approached, but 
 not being a Catholic I had no idea that I was expected to do 
 likewise; but the Mexicans easily made their desires under- 
 stood by the accursed Gringo by throwing a shower of 
 stones at me, several of which hit their mark before I could 
 find refuge in an open doorway. 
 
 On another occasion, while alone, I saw a peccary, a small 
 wild hog, come out of a jungle and stop in the middle of the 
 trail. These animals are fighters and wonderfully brave. 
 To get a good shot at him with my Winchester rifle I dis- 
 mounted and fired, with the result that the peccary was 
 wounded and my horse broke away and left me standing 
 there, while the pig squealed and four of his companions 
 
The Strangler Tree 403 
 
 answered to his call of distress and made an awful row over 
 him. They stood there, some hundred and fifty yards from 
 me, until I shot the last one of them down. These animals 
 have a gland on their backs near the tail which, when they 
 are injured, emits a stench that would make a skunk turn 
 green with envy, and which if not quickly removed with a 
 knife in a manner well known to the Mexican, permeates 
 the flesh and makes it unfit for food, but when the operation 
 is successfully performed the meat is sweet and the hams 
 are unexcelled in delicacy of flavor. 
 
 Among the sights which made an impression on me was a 
 forest of wild orange trees through which we rode for miles. 
 I also saw many of the hygera, a species of the banyan tree 
 in appearance. This tree is an assassin and a strangler. It 
 starts as a slender vine and quickly climbs the tree it has 
 selected for a victim — forms a network around the trunk, 
 and creeping out on the branches it sends down vines which 
 on reaching the ground take root and quickly grow to the 
 size of large posts. The lacework formed by the vine 
 around the trunk of the doomed tree grows into a solid mass, 
 and as the hygera grows with great rapidity it tears the 
 roots of the tree out of the ground and replaces them with 
 its own. I saw one of these parasite trees which, with its 
 posts supporting its limbs, covered at least half an acre of 
 ground. 
 
 Another tree which interested me very much produced a 
 fruit about the size of a large apple with a russet-colored, 
 thin skin, which contained a most delicious custard; one 
 tasting it could hardly believe that it was not made by some 
 expert cook. I also saw a tree called the sangre, about 
 which the Mexicans in our party seemed to be somewhat 
 superstitious. When the bark was cut through with a knife, 
 it was found that its sap was of the color of blood and left a 
 stain on a handkerchief exactly as blood would do. 
 
 But there were other sights to be seen in Mexico besides 
 the beauties of nature. I was riding along a public highway 
 
404 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 early one morning when a heavy fog prevailed. Suddenly 
 my horse shied and whirled around so suddenly that I was 
 almost unseated, and after I had got him under control, he 
 could not be persuaded to return to the spot where he had 
 balked until my mozo had dismounted, and leading his own 
 horse, led the way. An exclamation from the mozo caused 
 me to dismount also, and on approaching him I plainly saw 
 through the now lifting fog the cause of my horse's fright. 
 There, lying on his back, with wide-open, bulging eyes, was 
 a fine-looking man with about a foot of a machete standing 
 up out of his breast. His dead body lay in a pool of blood. 
 My mozo examined him and expressed the opinion that the 
 poor fellow had not been dead for very long, as his body was 
 still warm. As we could do nothing for him, we continued 
 on our way, and until we reached the next village the mozo 
 kept entreating me not to mention what we had seen. At 
 the town I met an American who had been many years in 
 the country, and naturally I confided to him our gruesome 
 secret. To my surprise he advised me to ride on, and to ride 
 fast, as at any moment an official might be informed of the 
 tragedy, and if it was known that my mozo and I had passed 
 along that road we should be thrown into prison and kept 
 there until our friends could produce the murderer who had 
 committed the awful deed. I took his advice, and urged on 
 by my mozo, rode fast. 
 
 Our road took us within a short distance of Colima, that 
 wonderful volcano which, with almost clocklike regularity, 
 sends up into the heavens a great cloud of smoke every four 
 hours. 
 
 Without further adventure I arrived at the City of Mex- 
 ico, where I became an attache of the Legation and spent 
 several very pleasant months in that beautiful climate, 
 where it is never very hot or cold and where the elements are 
 so well regulated that in the rainy season one can tell by 
 looking at his watch about when it is going to rain. At the 
 same hour every afternoon the shower comes down, and 
 
The City of Mexico 405 
 
 after it has laid the dust, Society enters its carriages and all 
 the swells go out for a drive. The last piece of property a 
 Mexican parts with, when adversity overtakes him, is his 
 carriage. 
 
 My brother's residence, on the fine public square called 
 the Alameda, and the United States Legation, were twin 
 buildings adjoining each other. One morning, coming out 
 of the Legation, I was accosted by a gentleman who asked 
 to be directed to Judge Morgan's house. Although I had 
 never met General Grant, I instantly recognized him from 
 his resemblance to the many portraits I had seen. While I 
 was offering to escort him into the house, my brother ap- 
 peared and, after greeting the general, laughingly said: 
 '* Do you know that is a rebel you are talking to, General?" 
 The ex-President gave me a kindly smile and turning to 
 Judge Morgan replied: "Well, the question is, did he fight? 
 It is only the other kind of rebels I can't get along with." 
 And that is the extent of my only interview with the great 
 Union general, as he and my brother entered the house and 
 I never saw him again. 
 
 There was sojourning in the City of Mexico at this time a 
 young gentleman from New Orleans by the name of Gil- 
 more. One of his brothers had married a daughter of Judge 
 Morgan. Gilmore had been tempted to go to Mexico by 
 stories he had heard about the golden opportunities that 
 there awaited young men of energy. He unfortunately fell 
 into the hands of an enthusiastic disciple of Colonel Sellers, 
 who persuaded him that there was " a fortune in pigs." Gil- 
 more invested his money with him in a ham manufactory in 
 Puebla, with the usual result, that when the partnership was 
 dissolved, Gilmore received only the experience for his share 
 of the assets. 
 
 One day Gilmore informed me that he had received a 
 communication from a Mexican who dwelt a hundred or 
 more miles away, on the road to Tampico, offering him 
 a three-fourths interest in a rich silver mine if he would 
 
4o6 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 furnish the money to work it. Gilmore was enthusiastic 
 over the proposition and offered me an interest (in the com- 
 pany to be formed) if I would go with him and investigate 
 the property. I jumped at the chance, and accompanied by 
 two mozos we mounted our horses and started for — we 
 did not know where. 
 
 We finally found the man who owned the mine and he 
 piloted us to it. It did not require an expert to see that there 
 was silver in the vein, as pieces of metal larger than ten- 
 penny nails stuck out of the rocks, and we were permitted 
 to take away with us a small bagful as samples to show 
 prospective investors. 
 
 As Gilmore and I had more time than anything else, we 
 determined to prospect the country further and in fact ride 
 as far as Tampico, a seaport we both desired to see. So we 
 bade an adios to the Mexican who owned the mine and 
 again started on our travels. 
 
 We proceeded on our way until we reached the Jule 
 (pronounced "Hoola"), or India Rubber River, where we 
 proposed to stop for a long rest. It was well that we had 
 determined to rest there, as there was a freshet and we found 
 the stream unfordable until the waters should subside. On 
 our way to the river our narrow trail led at times through a 
 dense growth of wild lemon bushes whose leaves were in- 
 fested with a tick whose Mexican name is too indecent to 
 mention. This tick, on being brushed off the leaves by a 
 horseman's legs, gets under his trousers and bores its way 
 through the skin, where it deposits eggs which soon cause 
 an ugly sore and a scab to form, which rapidly grows and 
 has the appearance of small horns. They sometimes grow 
 to a length of three quarters of an inch and the slightest 
 touch causes them to give most agonizing pain, and fre- 
 quently they cause the temporary loss of the use of the 
 lower limbs. The itching is maddening. The antidote for 
 these insects grows on the same bush on which they live, in 
 the shape of a lemon whose juice instantly kills them, but 
 
A Narrow Escape from Drowning 407 
 
 this fact we did not know at the time, and suffered accord- 
 ingly. 
 
 On the side from which we approached the stream were 
 cliffs some seventy feet in height, and the river was reached 
 by the dry bed of an arroyo which formed the road to the 
 ford. The stream at this point was some four hundred yards 
 in width and the shore just opposite was low. Below the 
 ford cliffs arose on the other side, the river rapidly nar- 
 rowed, and the current greatly increased in velocity until 
 the water poured over falls, some eighty feet in height, a 
 few hundred yards farther downstream. 
 
 We longed for a bath, and lost no time in taking off our 
 clothes and entering the water. There was a small islet, the 
 crest of a sandbar, which showed its top above the water, 
 and I swam for it. Making a landing, I lay down and began 
 to rub my itching skin with sand and called out to Gilmore 
 (who had told me that he could swim) to come over and 
 enjoy it. Gilmore struck out, and when he had swam half 
 the distance, to my horror, I saw that he was in trouble. I 
 plunged into the water and went to his assistance. As I ap- 
 proached him he threw up his arms and sank, but I was 
 fortunate enough to grab and raise him to the surface. I 
 was dismayed to find that he had lost consciousness, but 
 supporting him with one arm I swam for the shore with the 
 other, naturally making but slow headway, and conscious 
 of the fact that the current was increasing in velocity every 
 moment. i\.t last we reached the cliff and I seized a small 
 bush which was growing out of a crevice in the rock. For a 
 few moments my anchorage held while I shouted to the 
 Mexican mozos for help. Then, after a few seconds, the roots 
 of the bush were torn out by our weight and again we were 
 carried down by the current. This happened again and 
 again while the roar of the falls came nearer and louder each 
 moment. At last I caught hold of a tuft of grass, the last 
 hope in sight, and before it pulled out from its fastenings 
 the mozos on top of the cliff tied their lassos together and 
 
4o8 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 lowered them down to me. I at once made them fast to 
 Gilmore's body and told the Mexicans to hoist away, which 
 they did, and after great effort they finally landed him safe, 
 but still insensible. While Gilmore was being hoisted up, 
 my tuft of grass came out and I went drifting down the 
 stream, only able to retard my progress by pressing my torn 
 hands against the almost smooth side of the cliff, but finally 
 — it seemed ages to me — the mozos again lowered the 
 lasso, and I was hauled up to safety. I found that my friend 
 was still unconscious, and to the amazement of the Mexi- 
 cans I made them help me to hold him upside down until the 
 water ran out of him, and after working his arms up and 
 down and attempting to revive him by artificial respiration, 
 at the same time rubbing him with mescal (native whiskey 
 made from the maguey plant) we succeeded in bringing 
 him to. 
 
 After a wait of four or five days, until the waters sub- 
 sided and Gilmore had recovered from his shock, we waded 
 and swam our horses across the river which had so nearly 
 caused our finish, and continued our journey. On our way, 
 when near the head of navigation on the Panuco River we 
 met with a strange character in the shape of a white man 
 who said he was from Philadelphia originally, but had lived 
 in Mexico for thirty years. He was a quack doctor, and evi- 
 dently belonged to the class of **lost" men whose people, if 
 he had any, supposed dead. The doctor, without invitation, 
 joined our party and proceeded with us to Panuco. He be- 
 came very friendly on the way, and informed me that he 
 knew where there was a lake of asphalt and that for a very 
 small consideration he would guide me to it. But my mind 
 was engaged in dreaming dreams about the great wealth to 
 be obtained out of the silver mine, so I paid very little 
 attention to his story. 
 
 Gilmore and I proceeded to Tampico, stayed there a few 
 days, and returned to the City of Mexico without further 
 adventure. It was decided that I should take the little bag 
 
Financing a Silver Mine 409 
 
 of ore samples and go to New York, via Vera Cruz and 
 Havana, for the purpose of raising money to exploit our 
 find. I could interest no one in New York in the enterprise, 
 so, procuring some letters of introduction to people in 
 Chicago, I went to that city only to find that the instant 
 silver mines were mentioned I was looked upon with sus- 
 picion. In fact, the capitalists seemed to take it for granted 
 that I was one of the class of operators who wished to or- 
 ganize a company to work an imaginary hole in the ground, 
 to sell stock to confiding old maids and widows with stories 
 showing how a five-dollar investment in the stock would 
 produce millions, and having got their money to skip. I 
 returned to New York depressed by my failure as a promo- 
 ter, and to add to my troubles I found myself getting short 
 of funds and no employment in sight. 
 
CHAPTER XLVIII 
 
 Return to Tampico and get shipwrecked on the bar — A squaw man who 
 was a quack doctor — Find a lake of asphalt and strike oil — A precarious 
 ferry — 111 with fever and receive a matrimonial proposal. 
 
 My experience with the silver mine ought to have taught 
 me that rich mines and asphalt lakes are luxuries only for 
 the already rich, and that the mines of Golconda would be 
 absolutely useless to a man without capital to work them. 
 But in the weary weeks I spent in New York at that time I 
 could not get the idea of that asphalt lake out of my head, 
 and I became a victim to one idea and that was to find my 
 vagabond friend, the self-styled "doctor," again. 
 
 Unexpectedly becoming the possessor of a small amount 
 of cash, I started at once for New Orleans, determined to 
 work my way back to Tampico from that city if my money 
 gave out; but luck was again with me, and at New Orleans 
 I met my old friend Captain Mcintosh, who commanded a 
 ship bound to Mexico and making Tampico one of her ports 
 of call. Telling my friend of my plight he kindly offered me 
 a free passage which I gratefully accepted. 
 
 During the Mexican War in 1846 several vessels were 
 sunk to blockade the port of Tampico, and at the time of 
 which I write a bar extended across the entrance with so 
 little water on it that ships had to lie some distance out and 
 transfer their freight to lighters. (The bar has been dredged 
 in recent years.) 
 
 With some difficulty, on account of a northeaster blowing, 
 with two or three other passengers I was transferred to a 
 ramshackle steam launch. The sea was running quite high, 
 and when we got on the bar the little craft rose on the crest 
 of a high curler and the next moment her bow struck the 
 bottom just as another wave capsized her, throwing us into 
 the sea. Boats put out from the ship, and amongst others, I 
 
An Asphalt Lake 411 
 
 was pulled into one of them, but several Mexicans who 
 could not swim were drowned. 
 
 From Tampico I went to the head of navigation on the 
 Panuco River as a passenger on a little stern-wheel steam- 
 boat which had originally plied on the bayous of Louisiana. 
 Landing at the village, I had no difficulty in finding my rol- 
 licking doctor, who was delighted to see me again and in- 
 sisted that I should be his guest. The doctor had, years 
 before I met him, married (?) an Indian woman. He was 
 what would have been called on our own plains a "squaw 
 man." 
 
 The question now arose as to how we were to get horses 
 for our trip to the asphalt lake. The doctor could get one, 
 but the natives did not seem disposed to oblige the new 
 Gringo. The doctor got around the situation by walking 
 some distance to the house of a patient and by representing 
 that the horse he had borrowed had gone lame and it was 
 necessary for him to have a sound one. His request was 
 granted, and mounted on the new animal I started with 
 only the doctor for a guide, and very soon found that he 
 had never been to the lake and did not even know where it 
 was, but was asking information from every native we met. 
 It was in the rainy season and sleeping on the ground was 
 very uncomfortable, and when we rolled up our blankets in 
 the morning, preparatory to resuming our journey, it gave 
 one a disagreeable sensation to find that a tarantula or a 
 scorpion had crawled under it for the warmth and been a 
 bedfellow for hours probably. 
 
 After wandering about in the dense forest, in what began 
 to look to me like an aimless way, we suddenly came upon 
 the object of our search. The asphalt lake appeared to be 
 about a mile long and several hundred yards wide. Its sur- 
 face was hard enough to bear our weight, but it was very 
 sticky. In walking along its banks I was surprised and de- 
 lighted to find crude petroleum trickling through the crev- 
 ices of the rocks. Here indeed was a find! Joyfully I filled 
 
412 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 one of the doctor's mescal bottles with a sample, and we lost 
 no time in returning to the doctor's home, and from thence 
 I went to Tampico and New York, via New Orleans. 
 
 Arriving in New York I at once informed my friends, Mr. 
 Clarence Gary and Mr. Frederick W. Whitridge, of what 
 I had found, and they engaged Mr. John F. Randolph, 
 a mining expert, to return to Mexico with me and make a 
 report upon the find, as well as to file claims under the 
 Mexican laws. 
 
 We lost no time in making preparations for the journey 
 and soon arrived at Panuco, where we had no difficulty in 
 getting into communication with the doctor, but to our 
 dismay we found it impossible to get horses on which to 
 continue our journey. The doctor informed us that there 
 were large herds of horses in the neighborhood, and that it 
 was only a way the Mexicans had of taking their time when 
 there was a chance to sell anything, and that it was useless 
 to try to hurry them : if we would take it easy we undoubt- 
 edly would get the animals in time, so we hired a small 
 vacant adobe house and proceeded to wait — wait. The 
 only thing that would stand a chance of winning in a wait- 
 ing contest with a Mexican would, in my opinion, be the 
 Washington Monument. 
 
 The days dragged slowly by until Mr. Randolph an- 
 nounced that his business at home would not permit of his 
 remaining any longer and we began to pack up our things 
 and make inquiry about a boat to take us back to Tampico. 
 The next morning there were between twenty and thirty 
 horses lined up in front of our house waiting for a purchaser, 
 and we found them very reasonable in price. 
 
 Having our mounts and a pack-horse, with the doctor as 
 our guide, we started for the lake. The doctor was a gay 
 old guide. He told us that he had a patient who would give 
 us accommodation for the night, and that he would take us 
 to the house by a short cut through the dense forest. Night 
 came on, and it was soon evident that he had lost his bear- 
 
Prospecting for Oil 413 
 
 ings. Randolph got an ugly fall into a mud puddle when 
 his horse stumbled, and then the animal ran away, which 
 made things worse. Next the doctor was dragged from his 
 saddle by a tangled mass of vines and his horse also escaped, 
 leaving the doctor and Mr. Randolph to proceed on foot, 
 tripping at almost every step. It was after midnight, and 
 it was a very dark night too, when we arrived at the bamboo 
 house, only to find that the owner was dying. The doctor 
 alone was allowed to enter, but the old women of the house- 
 hold, with their faces well covered by their rebozos (shawls), 
 supplied us with much-needed coffee and tortillas. The 
 horses of the doctor and Mr. Randolph were recovered by 
 peons the next morning, and we proceeded to a river which 
 was too deep to ford. The doctor went some distance up 
 the stream to get an Indian and his boat to ferry us across. 
 The boat, a canoe made out of the trunk of a tree, was very 
 cranky, and when we had put our traps into her and got in 
 ourselves her gunwales were not more than three inches out 
 of the water, and to add to the precariousness of the situa- 
 tion we had to lead four horses by the lassos while they 
 swam alongside of the boat. 
 
 We arrived at the lake and Mr. Randolph made a super- 
 ficial survey of it and marked out some claims for oil wells, 
 and after taking more samples we went on to the town of 
 Vanilla and the doctor returned home by himself. 
 
 Vanilla is the great market of Mexico for the vanilla 
 beans. As one enters the town the odor of vanilla is so 
 strong that the atmosphere is impregnated with it, and no 
 wonder, as the streets in front of every house are partially 
 covered with blankets on which the beans are spread to 
 cure before being shipped. The beans are brought into 
 town by the Indians. They are grown in the forest, where 
 each vine has a tree to itself. No particular tree belongs to 
 any individual until he has planted his vine alongside of it. 
 A stranger would imagine that inextricable confusion as to 
 the ownership of particular vines would arise, but such was 
 
414 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 not the case. I was told that not only did each Indian 
 remember where he had placed his seed, but that no alter- 
 cations ever arose among them as to the ownership of par- 
 ticular vines. In Vanilla we learned that there were other 
 parties to the westward who were prospecting for oil, and it 
 was decided that it would be best for me to go in search of 
 them and find out what they were doing, and then to return 
 to Tampico to attend to some business there in connection 
 with the claims. 
 
 It was a long and lonesome ride over a trail I had never 
 been over before — I was unaccompanied even by a mozo. 
 I found the oil men, and they showed me a spot where they 
 had sunk a shallow well and struck oil a few feet below the 
 surface. There was no way at that time of marketing the 
 stuff. It was flowing over the ground and going to waste. 
 
 Proceeding on my way, I was soon attacked by the form 
 of malaria common in the tierra caliente, and was com- 
 pelled to stop at a small settlement whose head man was a 
 Mexican of rather light color. For a consideration he hos- 
 pitably consented to furnish food for my horse and myself 
 and also permit me to sleep on the bamboo poles which 
 formed the bunks in the usual thatched shed some little 
 distance from his house, and there I lay tossing with fever 
 for I do not know how many days; my host afterwards told 
 me I had been delirious. 
 
 It was while lying in my bunk after I regained my senses 
 that I witnessed a very interesting festival. All children in 
 Mexico are named after the saint on whose day they are 
 born. Those bom on Christmas are named Jesus, and when 
 a male child is bom on a day which has been set apart for a 
 lady saint, the poor little fellow is christened Mary, Magda- 
 len, Dorothy, or whatever other girl name the saint bore 
 whose feast-day it happened to be. 
 
 The day I refer to was the birthday of the sole child of the 
 head man. There were thirty or forty men and women, the 
 latter, of course, wearing their rebozos over their heads 
 
A Mexican Fiesta 415 
 
 and a part of their faces. They seated themselves on the 
 bare ground in a semicircle, a few yards from where I lay, 
 and opposite them, seated on rustic chairs, were two musi- 
 cians who played, one on a small and the other upon a huge 
 guitar, the largest I had ever seen. 
 
 The daughter of the house, accompanied by her father, 
 soon made her appearance, and in a most staid and solemn 
 manner took up a position in the centre of the circle and 
 commenced dancing for the entertainment of her guests. 
 The girl was of an unusually light complexion: she was tall 
 and handsome and the undulating motions of her lissome 
 body reminded me of the movements of a leopard. Her 
 great bright black eyes would blaze with light one moment 
 and the next soften and languish according to whether the 
 music was fast or slow. Her jet-black hair hung down her 
 back in two large plaits which reached to her knees. Her 
 dress was made of calico of a brilliant red hue, and I thought 
 it rather immodestly short for a Mexican woman, as it 
 barely reached to her instep. 
 
 Her dancing reminded me of Egyptian dancing, as it con- 
 sisted mostly in movements of the hips, and the bare feet, 
 barely lifted from the ground, seemed only used to turn 
 her around and around in unison with the slow music. 
 
 The fiesta commenced in the afternoon. There were inter- 
 missions in the dancing for refreshments consisting of coffee 
 and native beer, after which the dancing was continued 
 far into the night. I was surprised to see that none of the 
 young men sought to dance with the girl, but suppose that 
 it would not have been in good form for them to offer to do 
 so on such an occasion. 
 
 Despite my diet of tough beef, fried, of course, and all on 
 fire with hot chile pepper, I commenced to get better, and 
 my lonesomeness made me all the more anxious to be on 
 my way again. I had never seen the daughter of the house 
 except on the occasion of the fiesta, and of course I had 
 never spoken to her. Judge of my surprise when one day 
 
41 6 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 her father joined me and said that he wanted to have a talk 
 with me. I naturally told him to go ahead, and to my grer.t 
 amazement he made me a financial statement of his assets 
 consisting of his home, land, cattle, horses, and goats. I 
 could not think what he was driving at until he told me that 
 the girl I had seen dancing was the idol of his heart and that 
 his only object in life was her welfare and happiness. He 
 went on to say that Mexicans made very bad and selfish 
 husbands, and that he had always heard that the Americans 
 were the kindest husbands in the world, and for that reason 
 he wanted her to marry one. He also told me that he was 
 very anxious to have her marry at once, as he suspected 
 that she was already favorably inclined toward a worthless 
 young Mexican who he was afraid would carry her off some 
 day. He wound up his tale of romance by saying that he 
 had taken a great fancy to me, and if I would become his 
 son-in-law he would take me into partnership immediately, 
 and eventually leave me all his property when he died. 
 
 Naturally I was very much astounded by the proposition, 
 and must confess that I was somewhat worried, as I was 
 entirely in the power of this man and did not even have my 
 horse to get away on, as the poor brute was being pastured 
 some miles away from the settlement. It was a difficult 
 situation for me, as I wished, at all costs save one, to avoid 
 offending him or arousing his ire. In as kindly and sympa- 
 thetic a way as possible I suggested that the young lady 
 might object, as I had never had the honor of exchanging a 
 word with her, but he brushed the idea aside by informing 
 me that the girl had nothing to say about it, and that she 
 would marry the man he chose to select for her. Things 
 were getting to be serious, so I mustered up sufficient cour- 
 age to tell him that there were insurmountable difficulties 
 in the way of the alliance he seemed disposed to honor me 
 with, and that while I fully appreciated the compliment, it 
 was impossible for me to conform to his wishes, as it was a 
 matter of great importance that I should return to the 
 
Return to the States 417 
 
 United States immediately, and if I took his daughter with 
 ine, she, not being able to speak English, would naturally be 
 dreadfully lonely, homesick, and unhappy. I omitted to say 
 anything about hotels being indisposed to accommodate 
 us on account of her color. But such arguments as I used 
 seemed to carry weight with the old fellow, and the next 
 day my horse arrived and we parted most amicably. This 
 was the only time in my life I was ever proposed to — or 
 for. 
 
 Being very weak and having to sleep on the ground in my 
 wet clothes (it was the rainy season), the fever came on 
 again, and my body was racked with pain while traversing 
 the weary, lonely miles until I arrived at Panuco, where I 
 found my friend the doctor, who administered some pills, 
 after taking which I entirely collapsed. When I again 
 became convalescent, the doctor boasted that he had ad- 
 ministered thirty grains of calomel to me in one dose! 
 
 Bidding the doctor farewell forever, I proceeded once 
 more to Tampico to take ship for the States. I was fortu- 
 nate enough to be in time to catch the steamer Mexico 
 commanded by my old friend Captain Mcintosh, who, 
 when I boarded the ship as she lay off the bar, expressed 
 himself as being shocked at my wretched appearance. 
 
CHAPTER XLIX 
 
 Not even any money in oil, when I am interested — President Gonzalez 
 and General Porfirio Diaz — Collapse of oil scheme — Encounter General 
 Charles P. Stone by accident and get employment — The Statue of Liberty 
 — Swept to sea by harbor ice — Meet an old foe — Laying a corner-stone — 
 General Winfield S. Hancock — Lecture my superior officer — I am appointed 
 Consul-General to Australasia. 
 
 Arriving in New York I spent my days building castles 
 in the air whose only foundations were my wild speculations 
 as to the amount of wealth the oil fields in Mexico were 
 going to bring me. But wiser and cooler heads saw the 
 danger of investing good money in our sister (?) republic. 
 
 President Gonzalez, who had been pitchforked into the 
 position of President by Porfirio Diaz because the Mexican 
 constitution at that time did not permit of a Mexican Presi- 
 dent succeeding himself, was a one-armed man. He had lost 
 a hand while serving under Diaz in one of the latter's many 
 campaigns, and Diaz, while expressing the greatest con- 
 fidence in him, took the precaution of having himself ap- 
 pointed as Minister of War so that he could retain control 
 of the army. 
 
 Gonzalez was a diseased man, and it was necessary to 
 have his arm repeatedly amputated on account of the cica- 
 trix never properly healing, and when it sloughed away 
 there was danger of his bleeding to death through the ex- 
 posed arteries. Everybody felt sure that there would be a 
 revolution when he passed away. His arm finally was cut 
 off so near the shoulder that there was no chance of a fur- 
 ther amputation, and every time there was a rumor that 
 the President was ill, Mexico trembled with fear, and foreign 
 investors buttoned up their pockets when Mexican specu- 
 lation was mentioned. The time allowed by law for us to do 
 a certain amount of work on our claims passed, and they 
 
Collapse of the Oil Scheme 419 
 
 lapsed. I found myself poorer than when I had first gone 
 to Mexico. 
 
 It might be interesting to mention that the constitution 
 of Mexico at that time provided that in case of the death of 
 the President he should be succeeded by the Chief Justice, 
 but when it became known that Gonzalez's life was in grave 
 danger, Congress hastily amended the law and conferred 
 the succession on the President of the Senate, Mr. Rubio, 
 and very shortly after the law was passed, Porfirio Diaz, 
 then a man about forty-five years of age, married the 
 daughter of the President of the Senate, Sefiorita Carmen 
 Rubio, a girl between fifteen and sixteen years of age, and 
 I must say the most beautiful girl, of the upper class, 
 that I saw during my travels in that country. 
 
 The oil field which we had located passed into the hands 
 of great corporations who bitterly fought over the claims, 
 and when they were not fighting each other, the Mexican 
 revolutionists broke the monotony by raiding the property, 
 levying forced loans, and occasionally killing a few em- 
 ployees. 
 
 After my hopes for the success of the oil enterprise were 
 blasted, I remained in New York City because there was 
 as good a chance of my getting employment there as there 
 was in any other place, and besides, while New York is no 
 place for people of moderate means to live in, it is the very 
 best town in the world for the very rich and the very poor. 
 The rich can find every pleasure, and the poor can live 
 there better on less money than they can in any other place. 
 
 I was disconsolately walking on Broadway one day, after 
 having failed to get employment, when in front of old Trin- 
 ity Church a man threw his arms suddenly around me in a 
 most demonstrative manner while assuring me that he was 
 delighted to see me again. The man was General Charles P. 
 Stone, under whom I had served in Egypt. One of the first 
 things the general said to me was that he hoped I was at 
 leisure and not in any employment, and I told him that was 
 
420 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 very unkind, as I needed work badly and was sorely pressed 
 for money — small as my expenses were. The general re- 
 plied that I was just the man he wanted, as he had a place 
 for me on Bedloe's Island where he was the engineer who 
 was to erect the " Statue of Liberty." Naturally I jumped 
 at the chance. 
 
 Bedloe's Island was the scene of the hanging of the last 
 real deep-sea pirate executed in the United States, as Gen- 
 eral Stone frequently facetiously reminded me by saying 
 that if the Georgia had been captured during the Civil War 
 I might have occupied a very high position on Bedloe's 
 Island. The quarters for the small number of troops neces- 
 sary to garrison the little fort were frame buildings and 
 were then used for offices. As I had no place to live on the 
 island I slept at my lodgings in the city, which necessi- 
 tated my being at the barge office on the Battery every 
 morning at five o'clock to take a small steam launch for 
 the island. At that time there was no other way of getting 
 there. The launch was old and the engine was feeble and 
 rickety. The winter of 1884-85 was cold, and at times much 
 ice formed in the harbor. One dark and foggy morning the 
 launch broke down when we were about halfway to the is- 
 land. The tide was swiftly running out. An ice field quickly 
 imprisoned us and we were carried nearly to Sandy Hook. 
 None of the vessels — which we could hear but could not 
 see — paid the slightest attention to the feeble squeal of 
 our toy whistle. The day was waning and the prospect 
 of passing the night out on the broad Atlantic in that little 
 unseaworthy craft was not pleasant, especially as the wind 
 was rising. Just as night was coming on, however, a Good 
 Samaritan in the guise of a tugboat heard our shouts and 
 came to our assistance, but before passing a line to us de- 
 manded and received ten dollars for towing us back to the 
 city. We had been all day without either food or water and 
 arrived at the barge office after ten o'clock that night. 
 
 Major Kennish, who had been on the staff of General 
 
Corner-Stone for the Statue of Liberty ■ 421 
 
 Butler during the time the Dutch Gap Canal was being 
 cut, had charge of the concrete work for the foundation and 
 pedestal on which the statue was to stand. He became 
 greatly Interested when he learned that I had been engaged 
 in throwing shells at him for seven months during the latter 
 part of the war, and when I made a boast about pointing a 
 rifled gun on one occasion and knocking a timber out of the 
 wooden tower General Butler had erected near the canal, 
 and went on to give a ludicrous description of how two men 
 engaged in looking through a telescope came scrambling to 
 the ground. Major Kennlsh said he had good cause to re- 
 member the incident, for the reason that one of the men was 
 General Butler and the other was himself. 
 
 Outside of having to catch the five-o'clock boat every 
 morning my duties on the island were not very onerous. 
 General Stone knew my limitations, and was very consider- 
 ate. I thoroughly enjoyed seeing the scientific work and the 
 foundation and pedestal grow. The stormy day on which 
 the corner-stone was laid I shall never forget. I was as 
 proud as though the completion of the work was due to my 
 individual efforts. 
 
 On the great day, when the hour for the ceremonial ar- 
 rived, it rained in torrents, driving General Stone and the 
 reception committee to shelter. The boat bearing Major- 
 General WInfield S. Hancock, who was to lay the stone, was 
 expected every minute, and as I knew the general well per- 
 sonally. General Stone suggested that I should wait on the 
 dock and receive him. The rain let up just In time, and the 
 function went through without a hitch. Photographs and 
 visiting cards, my own among the number, were placed in 
 the niche along with coins, newspapers, etc., and unless that 
 pedestal Is used in the future to sustain something besides 
 that old sheet-iron effigy, which was originally designed for 
 a statue of victory, that receptacle will probably be opened 
 during the lifetime of people now of middle age, owing to 
 the fact that the Goddess of Liberty has been so rust-eaten 
 
422 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 from the elements already that Anthony Comstock's society 
 will soon make it a sine qua non that she either get new 
 clothes or go into seclusion. 
 
 It was Rochefoucauld, I believe, who in a cynical mood 
 once said: "We even take a certain amount of pleasure in 
 the very misfortunes of our friends." This was certainly the 
 case with me when one day there was an awful row, on the 
 parapet of the fort, between General Stone and the gifted 
 artist-author-contractor, F. Hopkinson Smith, whose offi- 
 cial position I never could quite define; but he was either 
 interested in the contracts or else represented the society 
 which raised the money to erect the statue. When the quar- 
 rel was at its height General Stone called me and asked if I 
 would be the bearer of a challenge for him, and of course I 
 said, "Yes, with pleasure." As the verbal quarrel was about 
 to be renewed, I interposed by telling the general that under 
 the code no further interchange of harsh words were per- 
 mitted after calling in the services of a second, and then 
 I carried him off triumphantly for a private consultation. 
 After the two gentlemen had had time to cool off, I settled 
 the matter amicably, but oh, was n't it nuts to crack — for 
 me! On several occasions in my life I had had to stand at 
 attention in the presence of the chief-of-staff of the Egyp- 
 tian Army while he lectured me on the subject of losing my 
 temper too quickly, and now it was my opportunity to do a 
 little lecturing on the same subject myself. I talked to him 
 like a father, more in sorrow than actual reproof, until the 
 general burst into laughter at the idea, and told me to "go 
 to the devil" and settle the matter in any way I chose. 
 
 It was while I was employed on Bedloe's Island that the 
 great function of the opening of the Brooklyn Bridge to traf- 
 fic took place. I was fortunate in that friends secured for 
 me an invitation to be present and the party I was with had 
 seats near the President. Mr. Cleveland, then Governor 
 of New York, and many of the state officials occupied seats 
 in a stand just opposite. I must confess that the huge form 
 
Opening of Brooklyn Bridge 423 
 
 of Mr. Cleveland did not appear to advantage when con- 
 trasted with the symmetrical, well-dressed, and elegant 
 figure of President Arthur. But looks do not amount to 
 much when history is written, and Mr. Cleveland's Admin- 
 istration will be long remembered after that of Mr. Arthur 
 has been forgotten. 
 
 While I watched the President that was, and the Presi- 
 dent that was to be, I found myself wondering if they ever 
 acknowledged to themselves that "luck" had played any 
 part in elevating them to the proud positions they occupied 
 in the nation, or if they attributed their success to their 
 own superior abilities and energy, as in my experience in 
 life I had never met a successful man who was willing 
 to acknowledge any obligation to dame Fortune. A little 
 perfunctory recognition of the slight assistance rendered 
 him by Divine Providence is grudgingly vouchsafed by 
 the average man after once achieving success, because that 
 is good form; but that is all, despite the fact that the world 
 around him is filled with human derelicts, men of great 
 mental powers as well as physical energy, who have labored 
 through the years without attaining success. In my wan- 
 derings over the world I have met many favored mortals, 
 but I have never yet seen one of them who could be made 
 to understand that it might not be entirely a man's own 
 fault if he failed to accumulate wealth. 
 
 The work on the pedestal was nearing completion, and 
 where the winds of Fate would waft me next was a matter 
 over which I had no control — and consequently was none of 
 my affair. It was while thoughts such as these were running 
 through my head I received a telegram which gave me the 
 surprise of my life. It read: "You have been appointed 
 consul-general to Australasia. Come to Washington and file 
 a bond." And it was signed, "F. W. Dawson." 
 
CHAPTER L 
 
 My appointment as consul-general arouses great indignation among South- 
 ern office-seekers — Mr. Cleveland said he never would have appointed me had 
 he known I was a "pirate" — Torpedo, in the shape of a pamphlet, comes near 
 blowing up my prospects — Mr. Secretary Bayard gets angry — Mr. Cleve- 
 land brushes the matter aside and wishes me bon voyage — Get married and 
 start for San Francisco — Mr. Bayard recalls me to Washington by telegram 
 — I sail for Australia — Seventh-Day Adventists indignant when Captain 
 skips Saturday at the one hundred and eightieth meridian. 
 
 Grover Cleveland had been inaugurated as President 
 on the 4th of March, 1885, and it was early in April when 
 I started for Washington to get my instructions from the 
 State Department before departing for my new post. 
 
 Friends volunteered to go on my bond. I called on the 
 President and Mr. Bayard, the Secretary of State, both of 
 whom received me most cordially and congratulated me 
 on my appointment. And then suddenly to my amazement 
 I found myself the centre of quite a storm. 
 
 It had been many a year since the Democrats had had 
 any patronage to distribute, and Washington had been in- 
 vaded by an army of office-seekers, principally from the 
 South, who, like the fastidious Kentuckian, "wanted a little 
 sugar in theirs." The newspapers — Democratic ones — 
 criticized my appointment adversely, while politicians pro- 
 tested against it personally. The applicants from South 
 Carolina thought that they were being robbed of a choice 
 bit of patronage which belonged by right to them, and 
 harped upon the fact that I had not been bom in the State, 
 but I comforted myself with the knowledge that if that 
 lot ever learned that Nazareth was situated beyond their 
 boundary lines, there would not be left a Christian among 
 them in a week. Of course some of the carpetbaggers had a 
 shy at me, but much worse than that, Southern men who 
 had never met me, who probably had never heard my name 
 before, joined in the hue and cry against my appointment. 
 
Consul-General to Australasia 425 
 
 Mr. Tillman, afterwards Senator, was quoted in one of the 
 newspapers as saying that I had been a participant in one 
 of the most disgraceful tragedies that had ever occurred in 
 South Carolina. The remark was so worded that it left the 
 reader in doubt as to whether it was Captain Tupper or 
 myself who had killed Caldwell. Possibly the fact that 
 while Dawson lived he never let Tillman's head rise much 
 above the surface of the political whirlpool without ducking 
 him, may have somewhat influenced the latter's opinion of 
 myself. Senators Hampton and Butler, of South Carolina, 
 were the recipients of an avalanche of indignant protests 
 (from people who wanted the place for themselves or their 
 friends), although neither of the Senators had had anything 
 to do with getting me the plum. Things became so warm 
 for them that Mr. Cleveland came to their rescue, like the 
 brave man he was, and announced that the appointment 
 was entirely a personal one of his own, and that he wanted 
 placed before him by reputable parties some distinct 
 charges against me before he would rescind it. The only 
 charge submitted was that I had been an officer of the 
 United States Navy and had resigned and served in the 
 Confederacy, and that awful accusation was made by a 
 Southern man ! It is a good joke on my self-elected enemies 
 that none of them knew enough about my past life to make 
 the charge that I had served on board of a Confederate 
 cruiser engaged in burning American ships on the high seas, 
 for that would most certainly have ended my aspirations, 
 as Mr. Cleveland afterwards told my brother-in-law. Cap- 
 tain Dawson, that had he known I was on the Georgia he 
 never would have made the appointment. 
 
 The mystery of my appointment ought to have been a 
 very simple one to professional politicians. The solution of 
 it is as follows : Dawson was the editor of the most powerful 
 Democratic newspaper in the South at that time; he was 
 a member of the National Democratic Committee, and 
 had been a delegate to the convention which nominated 
 
426 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 Mr. Cleveland. Senator Hampton was strongly in favor of 
 the nomination of Mr. Bayard, but Dawson beat him for the 
 chairmanship of the South Carolina delegation and induced 
 its members to authorize him to cast the solid vote. When 
 noses were counted in the convention it was discovered that 
 the South Carolina delegation had just the required number 
 of votes to make the selection of Mr. Cleveland certain. 
 Dawson cast them for Mr. Cleveland. 
 
 Several weeks after Mr. Cleveland had assumed the 
 Presidency, Captain Dawson called at the White House to 
 pay his respects, and as he entered the President's presence 
 the latter, who was in a jolly mood, laughingly said: "I 
 know all about what you did for me. Captain Dawson, but 
 you must remember that there are others — don't claim 
 everything." Dawson, in the same bantering spirit, replied : 
 "Mr. President, if you will appoint my brother-in-law as 
 consul-general to Australasia, I will promise you not to ask 
 another favor during your administration." Mr. Cleveland, 
 still laughing, replied: "Your brother-in-law is appointed. 
 What is his name?" It was immediately after this conver- 
 sation that I received the telegram informing me of my 
 appointment. 
 
 When Mr. Cleveland was informed that I was a little 
 fifteen-year-old midshipman at Annapolis when the war 
 began, he brushed aside the charge, that I was an officer of 
 the navy who had resigned to fight against the flag, as un- 
 worthy of serious consideration. But my troubles were not 
 yet over. 
 
 In an unlucky moment, tempted by the desire to make 
 a few dollars, I had written an article calling attention to 
 the remarkable resemblance between the lower classes of 
 Egyptians and Mexicans in appearance, customs, and man- 
 ners. That was harmless enough : but unfortunately I had 
 told of some outrages perpetrated on Americans while I was 
 in Mexico, and how they had been stopped by the firmness 
 of Mr. Blaine when he became Secretary of State, and I also 
 
Secretary Bayard in a Temper 427 
 
 had said some very complimentary things about the ex- 
 Secretary, winding up with the statement that "with such 
 a man at the helm there never would be any more cold- 
 blooded murders in the despotism known as the Republic 
 of Mexico." 
 
 Some one of my many evil-wishers in some way got hold 
 of the pamphlet and carried it to Mr. Bayard. Mr. Bayard 
 immediately sent for me, and for reasons of his own also 
 sent for Senator M. C. Butler. When we entered the Secre- 
 tary's office it was evident that he was livid with rage. In 
 his left hand he held the pamphlet, while with his right he 
 pointed at it with a trembling finger while he demanded to 
 know if I was the author. I told him I was, whereupon he 
 flew into such a paroxysm of temper that I feared he would 
 break a blood vessel. He grabbed a handful of papers which 
 were lying on his desk, tore them, and threw them on the 
 floor, and then stamped on them, while from his mouth he 
 poured forth a torrent of abuse, until General Butler arose 
 and in a very dignified manner said, in those quiet tones of 
 his which his intimates knew were a danger signal: "Mr. 
 Secretary, you must remember that I am a United States 
 Senator!" Mr. Bayard, his voice almost choked with emo- 
 tion, replied: "I am not talking to you, Senator; I am talk- 
 ing to this man," pointing at me; and then he fairly wailed: 
 "The President does not know of this! The President does 
 not know of this!" 
 
 I turned to Senator Butler and said: "I am not going to 
 remain here to be insulted in this way." And taking no fur- 
 ther notice of the Secretary, I walked out of his office and 
 returned to my hotel, where half an hour later I received a 
 summons to the White House. I felt that my sentence was 
 about to be pronounced, and to say that I was very un- 
 happy but mildly describes my feelings. 
 
 When I was ushered Into the presence of the President, he 
 was alone. In his hand he held a copy of that infernal little 
 pamphlet. He was standing, and his huge figure looked 
 
428 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 bigger than ever to me. As I advanced toward him he ap- 
 peared to be frowning (which was not a good augury to me). 
 He opened the interview by saying: "Mr. Morgan, do you 
 really believe Mr. Blaine to be as able a man as you de- 
 scribe him in this article?" I replied: ** I most assuredly do, 
 sir." Mr. Cleveland's eyes twinkled and a humorous smile 
 passed over his face as he said : " I am very glad to hear you 
 say so, for if you did not regard Mr. Blaine as an able man 
 I am doubtful if you would have the capacity to fill the im- 
 portant position I am sending you to. I wish you a pleasant 
 voyage. Good-bye ! ' * 
 
 I was fairly dazed by this unexpected turn in my affairs, 
 for after my unpleasant interview with Mr. Bayard I had 
 regarded the matter of my appointment as having been 
 settled adversely to my hopes. How I got out of the White 
 House I do not know, but when I came to my senses I was 
 out in the grounds hurrying as fast as I could to tell Senator 
 Butler of my wonderful interview with the President. 
 
 That night I went to New York and a few days after my 
 arrival I married Miss Frances A. Fincke, a daughter of 
 Judge Charles Fincke, of New York, and we started for San 
 Francisco, at which city we arrived safely without further 
 adventure. 
 
 In San Francisco I met several old friends and shipmates 
 who were more than kind. There was Dick Floyd who had 
 served in the C.S. cruiser Florida. I also met the Reverend 
 Mr. Foute, an Episcopal clergyman and the rector of a very 
 fashionable church; he was a most dignified dignitary of the 
 Church. The last time I had seen Foute was some twenty 
 years previously when he was a midshipman in the Con- 
 federate Navy waiting in Paris for a Confederate cruiser 
 which never materialized. If my memory serves me cor- 
 rectly, at that time the clerical gentleman (that was to be) 
 was about as wild as an " unbusted " bronco, and as apt to 
 kick over the traces. Foute had been on board the Merri- 
 mac.in the great fights in Hampton Roads, and in those 
 
Old Friends in San Francisco 429 
 
 days would have welcomed a fight with a circular saw. I 
 also met Frank Roby, one of the ablest and most gallant of 
 the young naval officers of the Confederacy, with whom 
 I had served on the Mississippi River in 1861-62. 
 
 One day a police officer came to me: he turned out to 
 be an old shipmate, having been a quartermaster on board 
 the McRae when I joined that vessel at the commencement 
 of the war. Forgetting the dignity of my position and pos- 
 sibly having some recollections of his own concerning my 
 midshipman days, he very unnecessarily intimated that I 
 could paint the town any shade of red I preferred without 
 the least fear that the police would notice the change of hue. 
 
 The day before that appointed for our departure quite a 
 good-sized bombshell was dropped into our camp in the 
 shape of a telegram from Mr. Bayard. The message was 
 short and to the point; it said: "Return to Washington. 
 The President has not finally decided on your appoint- 
 ment." Mr. Bayard was not the only man with a temper 
 that day; I was slightly "peeved " myself. I wired back : " I 
 sail for Australia to-morrow. Please address any further 
 communication to Melbourne." This message might have 
 been construed as a case of lese majeste, but so far as I was 
 concerned I had stood all the hazing I intended to stand. 
 I had the President's appointment in my pocket, and I de- 
 cided that if I was consul-general to Australasia, my place 
 was in Melbourne, and if I was not the consul-general, it 
 was none of Mr. Bayard's business where I went, especially 
 as the Government had advanced me no money, and I was 
 traveling at my own expense. Strange to say, I never heard 
 any more about the matter. 
 
 On board the ship as passengers were representatives of 
 several different religious sects who were bound for the 
 antipodes bent upon the conversion of the heathen Austra- 
 lian. The largest sect represented was composed of some 
 forty or fifty Seventh- Day Adventists, who, if the captain 
 of the ship had allowed it, would have held a continuous 
 
430 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 revival throughout the voyage. Their nautical lore was 
 limited, and probably none of them had devoted much time 
 to the study of the science of navigation. Owing to this 
 omission on their part we came very near having a mutiny 
 on board when one day at dinner the captain arose from his 
 seat at the head of the table and with his knife rapped for 
 silence. When he had secured the attention of the assembled 
 company, he announced that the ship was approaching 
 the one hundred and eightieth meridian of longitude which 
 would be crossed during the night, and informed us that, 
 although the day was Friday, the next morning would be 
 Sunday, and that he would read the religious services on the 
 quarter deck, as he was required to do by law. Instantly 
 there was an uproar among the Seventh-Day Adventists, 
 who shouted in protest against the tyrannical decree of the 
 captain, accusing him of trying to rob them of their Sab- 
 bath, which was Saturday. They treated with indignation 
 and contempt the captain's assurance that if the ship had 
 crossed the one hundred and eightieth meridian on Satur- 
 day night, the next day would necessarily be Monday. 
 Things looked squally for a time, until the captain offered 
 a sensible compromise, tendering them the use of the saloon 
 for their devotional exercises, and assuring them that he 
 had not the slightest objection to their regarding the next 
 day as Saturday, or any other day, so long as it did not 
 interfere with the navigation of his ship. 
 
CHAPTER LI 
 
 Sydney's beautiful harbor — The authorities compliment me by giving me a 
 private compartment for the journey to Melbourne and I am surprised to 
 find myself a prisoner therein — Beautiful Melbourne and its suburbs — Sir 
 Henry Loch, Governor of Victoria — My wife suddenly ennobled — Singular 
 coincidence of meeting a gentleman who had been a passenger on a ship we had 
 stopped on the high seas twenty-two years previously — Wonderful Aus- 
 tralian horsemanship. 
 
 It would require the pen of a much more skilled writer 
 than I am to depict the beauties of the harbor of Sydney. 
 Suffice it to say that, although the harbors of New York, 
 Rio de Janeiro, and San Francisco are very magnificent, 
 they cannot compare in grandeur to that of the "Queen of 
 the Antipodes," where the greatest ships that plough the 
 seas can tie up to its docks and still have fathoms and 
 fathoms of water beneath their keels. 
 
 Every one was very kind to us in Sydney. An American 
 merchant who owned an American trotting-horse took me 
 for a drive in the beautiful suburbs, and we went as far as 
 Botany Bay, so famed in history and story as the location 
 of the much-dreaded prison settlement, all signs of which 
 have disappeared long years ago. I shall always feel grateful 
 to my newly made friend for his considerate advice, which 
 was never, in speaking to a native, to allude to the fact that 
 there was once a penal settlement in Australia, for while 
 hundreds of thousands of immigrants of all classes of soci- 
 ety, who had never seen the inside of a prison, lived in the 
 country, they resented any allusion to its once having been 
 a penal colony. A student of the vagaries of human na- 
 ture would be impressed by the singular coincidence that 
 the criminals who were deported to the American colonies 
 by the mother country, like their Australian confreres, never 
 left any progeny, despite the fact that all other men and 
 
432 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 animals who settled in the two countries immediately 
 became most extraordinarily prolific. 
 
 The railway journey from Sydney to Melbourne is be- 
 tween six and seven hundred miles and was in that day 
 (1885) a most tedious one. Without my ever having met 
 with any of the railway officials, they most considerately 
 and courteously sent me free transportation, and more than 
 that, reserved a whole compartment for Mrs. Morgan and 
 myself, the guard (a conductor we should call him) being 
 given orders to lock us in and not to open the door for any 
 one. These instructions, faithfully carried out, caused us, 
 for a time, no little inconvenience, for when the train made 
 a long wait at a station and the other passengers got out to 
 get refreshments and stretch their limbs, the grateful change 
 was denied us, as the guard was obdurate, and insisted on 
 obeying his instructions to the letter. Finally at one of the 
 stations I raised such a row that a railway official who for- 
 tunately was a passenger came to our compartment to find 
 out what was the matter. Explanations followed and he 
 persuaded our jailer to let us out amid much good-natured 
 laughter at our expense. 
 
 We found Melbourne to be a beautiful city, excelled in 
 that respect possibly by only one city of its size in the world, 
 and that, of course, is Washington. The city proper is only 
 a mile square in dimensions and is situated on the Yarra 
 Yarra River, about three miles above where that stream 
 empties itself into Hobson's Bay, a great stretch of land- 
 locked water which is the harbor of Melbourne, but with 
 none of the picturesque beauty of Sydney Harbor. The 
 city on the Yarra Yarra has many fine buildings, but they 
 are devoted almost entirely to business purposes, the ma- 
 jority of its population living in the picturesque suburban 
 settlements which entirely surround it and where almost 
 every residence is surrounded by a garden. The hand- 
 somest of these suburbs, which contains many palatial 
 dwellings, is called "Toorak," and naturally is the abiding- 
 
Sir Henry Loch, Governor of Victoria 433 
 
 place of most of the millionaires. Being a modest man I 
 took a house in South Yarra, where people of moderate 
 means resided. 
 
 My first pleasant duty was to call on Sir Henry (after- 
 wards Lord) Loch, the Governor of Victoria, and personal 
 representative of the Queen, to whom I showed my creden- 
 tials and received his authority to act while awaiting the 
 receipt of my exequatur with Queen Victoria's signature 
 attached. The governor was a remarkably handsome man, 
 tall, well formed, dignified, and at the same time possessed 
 of most winning and courteous manners. He was that Sir 
 Henry Loch who with Sir Harry Parks, while both of them 
 were serving on the staff of Lord Elgin in China, were cap- 
 tured under a flag of truce and most cruelly tortured. Sir 
 Henry told me that he had been manacled and placed in a 
 cage, and in that way had been carried through the country 
 as a spectacle for the edification of the people in the interior. 
 When he arrived at a town of any considerable size, for 
 the amusement of the natives, the "foreign devil" as they 
 called him was taken out of his cage, naked, and chained 
 to the stone pavement; and among other tortures he was 
 smeared with molasses so as to make him more attractive 
 to the flies. Lady Loch belonged to one of the bluest- 
 blooded families of the British aristocracy; she was a 
 beautiful woman and looked the part of "vice-reine" 
 which she so charmingly impersonated. 
 
 Sir Henry had surrounded himself with quite a number 
 of high-born young men, several of them bearing titles, 
 who assisted in making the social functions at Government 
 House very attractive. There was also a constant stream 
 of distinguished travelers passing through Melbourne, and 
 quite a number of younger sons and other sprigs of nobility 
 who had come croppers at home and were seeking new 
 fortunes in the land of gold, where people made fabulous 
 returns from every other employment than that of digging 
 for the yellow metal. 
 
434 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 Shortly after our arrival in Melbourne we were invited 
 to dine at Government House and incidentally received our 
 first jar at the hands of the gorgeous flunky who, resplendent 
 in the vice-regal liveries, announced the guests. In an un- 
 dertone I gave him our names as Colonel and Mrs. Morgan, 
 when to my horror and mortification he shouted at the top 
 of his voice, "Colonel and Lady Morgan ! " And for the rest 
 of our stay in Melbourne Mrs. Morgan was addressed 
 generally as "Lady Morgan." 
 
 At the dinner, the governor, who had become very 
 friendly with me, laughingly asked a Mr. Calder who was 
 seated near him if he was aware that a reincarnation of 
 "Morgan the Buccaneer" was present. Mr. Calder replied 
 that he himself had once been captured by pirates, and 
 went on to describe how in 1863, when returning from Eng- 
 land, the ship he was on had been stopped by the Alabama, 
 and how, when the boat from the "corsair" came alongside, 
 he had expected to see the typical pirate, over six feet high, 
 with a huge beard, board the vessel. He was amazed to see 
 an infant in uniform climb up the ladder and demand that 
 the captain show him the ship's papers! I here interrupted 
 by assuring him that he was mistaken about the Alabama 
 having captured him, at which assertion he became very 
 indignant and informed me that, as he was there, he ought 
 to know what he was talking about, and added that the 
 infant had told him that the name of the cruiser was Ala- 
 bama. I replied that the infant had lied, and Mr. Calder 
 demanded to know how I could possibly make such an 
 assertion, and was dumfounded when I told him that I was 
 the infant, and had been sent aboard the Australian liner 
 for the purpose of telling them that our ship (the Georgia) 
 was the Alabama, in the hope that in speaking other ships 
 the news that the Alabama was in those waters would reach 
 the American men-of-war in search of her and take them 
 off of her trail while she made her way to the Indian Ocean. 
 I also told Mr. Calder that while the infant midshipman 
 
Wonderful Australian Horsemanship 435 
 
 was in the captain's cabin, he, Mr. Calder, had procured a 
 paper bag full of cakes and two copies of the "Illustrated 
 London News" and presented them to the grateful middy, 
 who had not enjoyed such good things for many a long 
 day. The gentleman looked amazed, and in reply to his 
 unspoken question, I said, "Yes; I have grown somewhat 
 in the last twenty years." 
 
 My house in South Yarra was situated not very far from 
 Government House, and Sir Henry frequently sent for me 
 when anything of interest was going on there. On one occa- 
 sion he invited me to see an exhibition of riding by an Aus- 
 tralian, and I must say that it was the most remarkable bit of 
 horsemanship I ever beheld. I have ridden with the English- 
 men behind the famous "Pytchley," I have lived with the 
 Texan, and sojourned with the Western cowboy, and I have 
 also matched my own skill with the Bedouin Arab on his 
 native desert, and there are old men still living who will bear 
 testimony to my expertness in the saddle when I was young ; 
 but I take off my hat to the Australian and will give him the 
 palm as the best horseman in the world. The Bedouin rides 
 a horse that was foaled in his master's tent ; he was always 
 broken. The Englishman rides a horse that is trained 
 from the time he is a yearling and who never, even in a 
 nightmare, dreamed of bucking; and the cowboy, while de- 
 serving all credit for his wonderful sticking abilities when 
 "busting" his bronco, is after all only riding a pony who 
 quickly gets tired of bucking and quits. But the Australian 
 rides an entirely different animal from any of the foregoing. 
 The English thoroughbred, — and there are no other kinds 
 of horses in Australia, — when bred on the great stations 
 (ranches), where they roam over estates of hundreds of 
 square miles, not only becomes very wild, but develops into 
 a buck-jumper of magnificent proportions, and furthermore 
 he grows to be a much larger animal than his English ances- 
 tor. It also must be remembered that the Australian rides 
 a plain English saddle without pommel or cantle. 
 
436 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 When I arrived at Government House on this occasion, I 
 found Sir Henry Loch and two other gentlemen waiting in 
 the paddock; one of these was the Honorable Robert Boyle, 
 a younger son of the Earl of Cork, and the other was that 
 Sir George Tryon, commander of the fleet in Australian 
 waters at that time, who afterwards lost his life when the 
 collision occurred in the Mediterranean between the battle- 
 ships the Camperdown and the Victoria. 
 
 The horse to be ridden was a big bay nearly seventeen 
 hands high and powerful in proportion. He was eight years 
 old and had never had even a rope on him before that day. 
 He had been driven in a "mob" of horses from the station 
 where he was bred, and now was in a narrow trap into 
 which he had been forced by the use of a portable fence. 
 In this pen of strong timbers the frightened and frantic 
 creature had, for the first time in his life, a snaffle bit forced 
 into his mouth and a saddle girthed to his back. It was 
 also while confined in this way that the Australian, a 
 splendid-looking specimen of a man, mounted him, and as 
 though by magic the impromptu stall tumbled apart and 
 the struggles of the horse to get rid of the man, and of the 
 man to stay on the horse, commenced. The enraged crea- 
 ture suddenly lowered his head until it was between his 
 knees and then leaped into the air perpendicularly and came 
 down on the same spot stiff-legged; then he jumped side- 
 ways to the left, followed by a spring to the right, and with 
 the quickness of a cat he plunged forward and then back- 
 ward ; and before the onlookers could catch their breath he 
 had whirled around several times with such lightning-like 
 rapidity that it made every one dizzy to watch him ; he then 
 began to squeal and dashed off in a mad race around the 
 paddock, only interrupted by frequent^ stops to indulge in 
 buck-jumping and whirls. During the whole of this per- 
 formance the Australian calmly kept his seat as though he 
 was a part of the frantic animal. This exhibition of rough 
 riding came near ending in a tragedy. The horse by leaps 
 
Wonderful Australian Horsemanship 437 
 
 and bounds finally approached within eight or ten feet of 
 the stout board fence which enclosed the paddock, and then 
 he leaped into the air and threw his body, broadside on, 
 against it! Horse, man, and fence went down with a crash, 
 and for a moment there was indescribable confusion as 
 amidst the flying planks the horse rolled completely over 
 his rider, recovered his feet, and continued his acrobatic 
 feats; but to his evident astonishment his mad attempt at 
 murder and suicide had not budged the Australian from his 
 saddle. 
 
 Sir Henry Loch ordered the performance stopped at once; 
 saying that he could not allow the sacrifice of the life of one 
 of Her Majesty's subjects simply to show two sailors what 
 real horsemanship was. But the Australian did not take the 
 same view, and begged, almost with tears, to be allowed to 
 stay where he was until the horse gave up the fight, saying 
 that if he dismounted then, no living human being would 
 ever be able to ride that horse again. But Sir Henry was 
 firm, and the show was over. 
 
CHAPTER LII 
 
 Impecunious globe-trotters — Consular courts — Become skipper of a 
 water-logged bark against my wishes — A captain claims a dollar a day for 
 tuition in the culinary art — For obeying my instructions an Australian court 
 mulcts me for five hundred dollars, holding that despite my exequatur I am 
 only a commercial agent — Grocer's assistant gets quite a large fortune — 
 Many supposed dead men live in the South Sea Islands — Blackbirders. 
 
 Were I an habitual office-holder I would describe my 
 duties at the consulate-general as onerous and myself as 
 the only man who could possibly perform them. But such 
 was not the fact. The only line of American steamers came 
 to the port of Sydney, and only a small quantity of wool 
 was shipped to the United States from Melbourne. At rare 
 intervals an American sailing ship, generally a dilapidated, 
 bluff-bowed old "water-bruiser," would limp into Hobson's 
 Bay, either loaded with lumber or in ballast, and from there 
 go to Newcastle, New South Wales, for a cargo of coal, and 
 the business of these vessels did not occupy much time. Of 
 course I was harassed by impecunious "globe-trotters," 
 who would insist that as consul I had in my keeping a large 
 fund, furnished by the Government, for the purpose of pay- 
 ing their passages to the next point of interest they proposed 
 to visit, and failing that, as a man and a brother, my con- 
 science should compel me to supply the means out of my 
 own pocket. At rare intervals it was necessary to hold a 
 consular court, either to take testimony in some lawsuit 
 pending before the courts at home, or to decide some ques- 
 tion between an American captain and his crew. One case 
 of this kind was when a captain demanded that I should 
 discharge his crew for him without pay on account of their 
 mutinous conduct, and the counter-charge of the crew that 
 the ship had been sent out from the home port in ballast for 
 the purpose of having her wrecked so as to collect the insur- 
 ance money, and that it was because they would not allow 
 
Duties as Consul-General 439 
 
 the skipper to scuttle her that he made the charge of mutiny 
 against them. I decided in favor of the crew and ordered 
 them paid off, but the skipper said he had no money, and 
 when I told him that I would not clear his ship with a new 
 crew until he did pay them, the skipper skipped, leaving his 
 unseaworthy old bark on my hands, and the port authorities 
 made life miserable for me until she was finally beached to 
 keep her from sinking in the harbor. 
 
 The captains of some of these Pacific sailing tramp ships 
 were a hard lot, who were so mean that they not only ill- 
 treated their crews and gave them scant rations, but to save 
 the expense of oil actually carried no lights at night, much 
 to the danger of other vessels as well as their own. One of 
 these fellows, whose crew I discharged, had borrowed the 
 savings of his negro cook amounting to a hundred dollars, 
 but when it came to a settlement both loan and wages were 
 wiped out by the captain's counterclaim for broken crock- 
 ery, dishes spoiled in the cooking, and a charge of one dollar 
 a day for tuition in the culinary art during the whole time 
 the man had been on board of his ship. He pretended to be 
 indignant when I would not allow this fraud to pass. 
 
 I had a personal experience with one of the Australian 
 courts of justice which was temporarily both costly and un- 
 pleasant. The circumstances were as follows: There re- 
 sided in a handsome villa in a fashionable suburb a woman 
 who was always expensively dressed and who, despite her 
 dissipated appearance, still showed signs of once having been 
 beautiful and refined. I was told that her house was richly 
 furnished and contained costly paintings and marble statues 
 besides other objects of art, etc. Every three months a bill 
 of exchange for a large amount came to the consulate from 
 a city in New England, with instructions that it was to be 
 given into the hands of this woman and her receipt taken 
 therefor. This went on for a long time until one day, after 
 the arrival of the American mail, she did not put in an 
 appearance at the consulate. I sent word to her that her 
 
440 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 money had arrived, but for some time afterward received 
 no reply, until one morning, a very "cheeky" young man 
 bounced into my office and informed me that he was the 
 assistant of the grocer who supplied the woman with provi- 
 sions, and that he had come for her check, at the same time 
 insinuating that there was no use in my denying it, as he 
 knew I had the money. Naturally I declined to entrust the 
 valuable piece of paper to the keeping of this individual, 
 much to his indignation. A few days afterward he returned 
 and told me that the lady was very ill and must have the 
 money at once. Again I declined to part with it, when the 
 fellow angrily said: "Well, anyhow, she is going to die to- 
 morrow and then I will show you who will get the money.** 
 I asked him how he dared say that any one was going to die 
 to-morrow or any other day, but he only repeated his asser- 
 tion. The very next day he again made his appearance and, 
 with a broad grin on his vulgar face, exclaimed: "She is 
 dead ! I told you so ! And now I will show you who is going 
 to get the money." 
 
 I sent the consular clerk at once to the house with in- 
 structions that, if the report that the woman was dead was 
 true, he was to place the seal of the consulate upon all 
 of her effects, as I was required to do by the consular in- 
 structions. This was done; and I immediately called on the 
 doctor who had attended the dead woman during her last 
 illness. I found him in a very indignant frame of mind con- 
 cerning the case. He told me that his patient had died from 
 alcoholism, and that despite his instructions that under no 
 circumstances should she be allowed to touch spirits of any 
 kind, the grocer's assistant had surreptitiously kept her sup- 
 plied with the brandy which had caused her death. 
 
 When I had made sure of the woman's death I placed 
 the bill of exchange in a sealed envelope, directed to the 
 person who had sent the money, and dropped the missive 
 into the post-office with my own hand ; and well it was that 
 I did so, for no sooner were the obsequies over than the 
 
Lost Men in the South Sea Islands 441 
 
 grocer's assistant filed a will signed by the unfortunate de- 
 ceased in due legal form, making him sole legatee as well as 
 executor of her estate. He then came in haste to me and de- 
 manded that I surrender to him the bill of exchange, and his 
 impotent rage when I told him that I had returned it to its 
 rightful owner was a sight to see. But the fellow got even 
 with me. He sued me personally for trespass and demanded 
 damages. My lawyer thought it would only be necessary for 
 me to produce my book of instructions from my Government 
 to convince the court that I had acted legally, but the gro- 
 cer's clerk employed a smarter lawyer, who made the point 
 that there was not and never had been a consular treaty be- 
 tween Great Britain and the United States, and that conse- 
 quently, at most, I could only be regarded by the court as a 
 commercial agent, with none of the prerogatives of a consul. 
 The judge who presided at the trial was an Irishman who 
 had formerly been a policeman in New York: he mulcted me 
 for fifty pounds sterling for damages besides fifty pounds for 
 costs, making five hundred dollars outside of my lawyer's 
 fee! 
 
 Of course I reported the matter to the State Department, 
 which took scant notice of my protest, and I will maintain 
 with my dying breath that, unless such a treaty has been 
 made since that time, no official act of an American or 
 British consul in either country is or has ever been legal. 
 
 After Mr. Blaine became Secretary of State I related the 
 above facts to my friend Walker Blaine, his son, who 
 brought the matter to the attention of his father with the 
 result that the five hundred dollars was refunded to me. 
 
 The South Sea Islands have a singular fascination for some 
 people. There are many men, whose families at home have 
 long since mourned them as dead, who to-day are alive 
 and well enjoying the care-free life and dolce far niente of 
 that dream-compelling climate. I heard of one such man 
 who had been for many years a dweller on one of the islands, 
 and was told that he was a one-legged man and that his 
 
442 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 name was Proctor. It so happened that I had had a school- 
 mate by the name of Proctor who had lost a leg at the first 
 battle of Manassas. He was a nephew of General Beaure- 
 gard, and after he returned to his home in New Orleans, 
 after the Civil War, he found that a young lady with whom 
 he was deeply enamoured had married some one else, and 
 Proctor disappeared, not to be heard of again for many 
 years. 
 
 I started inquiries about this man Proctor, and was in- 
 formed that he was living with the natives and in sore 
 trouble on account of his artificial leg having worn out. I 
 also heard a strange story connected with that same leg, 
 which was that on one occasion when Proctor and a boat's 
 crew had landed on the beach of one of the islands, they 
 were suddenly set upon by cannibals. It was a case of 
 sauve qui peict, and the rest of the crew left Proctor to his 
 fate as they took flight toward the place where they had left 
 their boat. Proctor could not run, but nothing daunted he 
 sat down on the beach and deliberately unfastened his arti- 
 ficial leg, intending to use it as a weapon and sell his life as 
 dearly as possible. The cannibals, seeing a man unhitching 
 his limbs, took fright and scampered back into the bush 
 leaving Proctor unharmed. I soon learned that this same 
 man was the friend of my boyhood, and I wrote him a letter 
 asking him to come to Melbourne and also sent him money 
 to come with. When he arrived in Melbourne I took him to 
 my home and gave him employment in the consulate. 
 
 Proctor told me many of his adventures and of his strange 
 life among the South Sea islanders who, when they are not 
 cannibals, are most hospitable and the kindliest people in 
 the world. Shortly after his first arrival in Australia neces- 
 sity compelled him to accept the first offer of a job that was 
 made him and this was to take command of a " blackbirder." 
 A " blackbirder " was nothing more or less than a slaver, but 
 the word "slave-owner" horrifies our British cousins too 
 much to allow of its use in their presence. Proctor, and 
 
Blackbirders 443 
 
 many others in the trade, only took their ships to promising 
 islands and, anchoring offshore, tempted, at first, one or two 
 of the more venturesome of the suspicious natives to come 
 on board: these pioneers were shown many colored beads, 
 gaudy handkerchiefs, and tinsel, and then they were allowed 
 to return to their friends to tell of the wondrous store of 
 what they considered wealth the ship contained. Finally, 
 impelled by curiosity, the king or chief would go on board, 
 and the rest was easy. He was shown the coveted articles 
 on the upper deck, and then was promised a number of them 
 if he would induce the ablest of his young men to come on 
 board. Once on the ship they were invited to go below and 
 see greater wonders still, and while they would be admiring 
 the gaudy trifles, the hatches would be suddenly closed, 
 and the " blackbirder " would sail away for Queensland 
 where the sugar planters were eagerly waiting for them. 
 They were not sold into slavery, — oh, no! that is too 
 horrid a word ; but those poor devils, who could neither read 
 nor write, nor yet speak English, signed contracts to work 
 on the plantations and in return for their labor received a 
 few strings of beads and three or four bandanna hand- 
 kerchiefs. The Government allowed them to be contracted 
 for a term of only three years, and there was a clause in 
 the document requiring their return at the expiration of that 
 time. This clause was faithfully lived up to by the planters, 
 and possibly the same ship which had brought them took 
 them back to the chain of islands, which all look wonder- 
 fully alike. The natives were told by the captain to point 
 out their particular island and they would be landed. But 
 few would risk it, as, if they made a mistake and put foot 
 on the wrong island, they would be killed and eaten before 
 the ship which had brought them sailed out of sight. Con- 
 sequently the unfortunates preferred to return to their 
 drudgery than to take such risks. 
 
 It might be asked where the profit to the ship came in. 
 Well, it is said that there are cabins de luxe on the transat- 
 
444 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 lantic liners which cost a thousand dollars a trip, and while 
 not quite so luxurious, the price of a passage from the 
 islands to Queensland for a cannibal was proportionately 
 high for the accommodations furnished, and the planter had 
 to pay this before he got his "nigger." 
 
 Proctor remained with me for two months, and then the 
 "call from Cathay" became too strong for him to resist, 
 and he returned to his queer friends, who knew not what 
 labor meant, nor the need of clothes, and to whom Nature 
 supplied cocoanuts, fruit, and fish which amply supplied 
 their wants. 
 
 In reading this account of the doings of the "black- 
 birders," as recounted to me by Proctor, it must be re- 
 membered that I am writing about a state of affairs which 
 existed forty or more years ago, and that the Government 
 of Queensland even in my time (1885-89) had put a stop to 
 much of the injustice of the trade. 
 
 Ten or fifteen years after I had returned to the United 
 States, I learned that Proctor had come home to New 
 Orleans, found the sweetheart of his youth a widow, and 
 married her. 
 
CHAPTER LIII 
 
 Vast estates — Australian hospitality — Kangaroo hunting — The dingo 
 
 — Rabbits in myriads — Aborigines — Marriage customs — Black trackers 
 
 — Black swans — No songbirds, but many curious birds — The "laughing 
 jackass" always gets a laugh when he tells a funny story — The "Orni- 
 thoryncus." 
 
 While in Australia I visited several of the large stations 
 (as the ranches are called), many of them comprising sev- 
 eral hundreds of square miles of land, whereon thousands of 
 cattle, horses, and sheep grazed at will : that is, they grazed 
 at that time wherever the rabbits had left any verdure for 
 them to feed upon. 
 
 The owners of the vast estates possessed every comfort 
 that money could procure, and they wanted for nothing 
 except social intercourse with their equals. Owing to their 
 great holdings of land frequently the nearest neighbor lived 
 thirty or more miles away, and a visitor was generally re- 
 ceived with open arms. They were a most hospitable people 
 and joyously "welcomed the coming guest," but were loath 
 to "speed the parting one." 
 
 One of the greatest amusements at the stations was the 
 kangaroo hunt, for which sport they had bred a special dog 
 very much resembling the great English staghound. An 
 Australian would no more shoot a kangaroo than an Eng- 
 lishman would a fox. I went on several of these hunts, which 
 take place very frequently, as the singular beast feeds on 
 the grass needed for sheep. In the daytime the animal is 
 to be found only on the tops of the hills, where he can easily 
 see the approach of a possible enemy. 
 
 One morning I went out with a party of gentlemen and 
 employees of the estate, and with field-glasses located a num- 
 ber of kangaroos. We passed around the foot of the hill 
 until we got well to leeward and then commenced the 
 
446 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 ascent. We were well on top of the hill before we were 
 discovered and the animals took fright. They started down 
 the incline with marvelous speed, their extraordinary leaps 
 covering forty or more feet at each bound, and the jumps 
 following each other with such astounding rapidity as fairly 
 to daze the onlooker. 
 
 I was mounted on a race-horse called "Post Boy," be- 
 longing to my host, which was noted for speed, he having won 
 a valuable cup only a month prior to the time of our hunt. 
 Putting the spurs to our horses, we fairly flew after the flee- 
 ing kangaroos, but no horse, no matter what his speed, 
 can keep up with one of these animals going downhill. 
 When we reached the level ground, however, we gained 
 rapidly, and then I saw a singular sight. The horsemen had 
 their stirrup leathers so arranged that they could easily be 
 unfastened from the saddle, and when we reached the level 
 ground they unfastened one, swinging the iron stirrup 
 around their heads as a cowboy would a lasso. Each man 
 went in chase of a particular kangaroo, and when he ranged 
 alongside of the poor beast, with unerring aim he laid the 
 creature low with a single blow. The kangaroo's most tender 
 spot is the head, so tender, in fact, that the aboriginals kill 
 it easily with the light boomerang. 
 
 One kangaroo, when he got tired, stopped in the open, and 
 a jockey, a boy of sixteen, leaped from his horse and run- 
 ning around the poor creature, to avoid its death-dealing 
 kick, he seized it from behind, and then commenced a most 
 interesting wrestling-bout, for the kangaroo turned In the 
 boy's embrace and they had a grand struggle until one of 
 the horsemen arrived and gave the brute a coup de grace with 
 his stirrup. After the mel6e it was found that the boy had 
 been quite badly bitten on the shoulder. 
 
 Another kangaroo, when he came to a huge and dead 
 eucalyptus tree, placed his back against it and faced his 
 foes, the first of whom to reach him was a large hound, and 
 as the dog leaped for his throat the kangaroo raised one of his 
 
The Rabbit Pest 447 
 
 powerful hind legs and with a swift blow disemboweled the 
 hound as cleverly as though the operation had been per- 
 formed with a butcher's cleaver. 
 
 I also participated in a dingo hunt. This cowardly brute 
 is the only carnivorous animal indigenous to Australia. He 
 is red in color and is a species of wild dog, resembling in his 
 habits and appearance our own despised coyote. I was told 
 that a single dingo in one night would kill as many as fifty 
 sheep merely for the love of slaughter. 
 
 I saw, too, while at these stations the ravages committed 
 by the rabbits. These little creatures are not indigenous, 
 but are the offspring of a half-dozen which were imported 
 by a gentleman for the purpose of making his lawn look 
 more like home, as even the Australians who have never 
 visited the mother country call England. The rabbits on 
 arriving in Australia changed many of their habits, and 
 instead of breeding only once or twice a year and produc- 
 ing only two young at a time, they began to breed when 
 only a month old, giving birth to four or six at a litter, and 
 producing a new litter every month, until the country was 
 overrun by them, and lands which had supported thousands 
 of sheep became as bare as if a fire had swept over them, 
 the rabbits having fed upon even the roots of the grass. I 
 saw one stretch of country where there were so many of these 
 creatures that the ground seemed to be in motion, so close 
 were they together. The ravages were so serious that a 
 bounty was paid by the Government for rabbit scalps, and 
 thousands of pounds were offered for an invention that 
 would rid the country of the pest. Miles of rabbit-proof 
 fencing was put up and an attempt made to kill all the 
 vermin within the enclosure, but it was discovered that when 
 the men engaged in the exterminating process found rab- 
 bits getting scarce, rather than lose their jobs they would 
 throw a few pair over the fence so as to secure a new supply. 
 
 I sent a report to the State Department describing the 
 ruin the rabbits had wrought, and in it stated that one pair 
 
448 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 of rabbits in three years would, through their progeny, pro- 
 duce two millions of bunnies. The newspapers got hold of 
 this report and made great fun of me. It was suggested that 
 I revise my figures, and in reply I sent them the report of 
 the government statistician from which I had procured my 
 information on the subject, in which it appeared that an 
 experiment had been made by segregating one pair of the 
 little animals in an enclosure so arranged that they could 
 not burrow out of it and no other rabbits could get to them. 
 After a time, when the enclosure could hold no more, a 
 simple calculation, made by multiplication, gave the above 
 result. 
 
 I saw many strange sights in this land, where the trees do 
 not lose their leaves, but do shed their bark, and one of the 
 weirdest sights was to pass through a forest of eucalyptus 
 trees which had been belted so that grass for sheep would 
 grow at their roots, and watch the flocks of white cockatoos 
 flying from dead branch to dead branch, and on the ground 
 an* "old man" kangaroo, at least six feet in height, looking 
 very uncanny, as with extraordinary leaps and bounds he 
 fled from the approach of man. 
 
 I saw also great fern trees, of the same species we place 
 in jardinieres, whose leaves were fifteen or twenty feet in 
 length. 
 
 I visited a camp of the aborigines, those strange black 
 people, with long and silky hair, who are classed as the lowest 
 specimens of the human race. At night the spectacle of 
 the camp was most attractive, as the ground seemed to be 
 sprinkled with tiny lights. The aboriginal says that when 
 a man's stomach is warm, it is all that is necessary in cold 
 weather, and each member of the tribe builds his own in- 
 dividual little fire of twigs afifording a small flame not much 
 larger than that of a candle, and getting his belly close to it, 
 and his body forming a half-circle around it, after his day 
 of hunting he comfortably sleeps. 
 
 The Australian opossum, which has a fine fur as well as 
 
The Australian Aborigines 449 
 
 a bushy tail, is the mainstay of the native's existence, fur- 
 nishing him with meat and the little clothes which he 
 wears only in cold weather. The aborigines climb to great 
 heights on the giant dead trees, which have limbs only near 
 their tops, by cutting with their tomahawks notches in 
 which they insert their big toes. I saw one of these fellows, 
 at least fifty feet from the ground, stop, and with his hatchet 
 dig out of the dead tree a worm at least six inches long and 
 as big around as my first finger, and, horrible to relate, he 
 opened his mouth and swallowed the slimy thing. 
 
 The way the men get wives is rather unique. Only in 
 exceptional cases do they take women of their own tribe for 
 mates, and as every tribe is constantly at war with all their 
 neighbors it would seem that the race must die out but for 
 a custom of hunting in three parties, the men in one, the 
 married women in another, and the young girls of marriage- 
 able age forming a third. The object of the hunt, besides the 
 obtaining of food, is to capture the young women of their 
 enemies. When they do marry in their own tribes the cere- 
 mony is very striking. After the bargain with the girl's 
 father is completed and the required number of opossum 
 skins paid, the bride takes up a position just outside of her 
 parent's hut, and alone waits there. She has not long to 
 wait, for the groom to be is watching. As soon as he sees her 
 in her proper place, he seizes his war club, walks to where 
 she is standing, raises his weapon, and bats her over the 
 head, knocking her senseless. He then picks up her body, 
 puts it on his shoulder, carries her to his own hut — and 
 the ceremony is over. The object of hitting her on the head 
 is said to be for the purpose of showing her who is going to 
 be boss in the future. When an attempt is made to civilize 
 these people, they quickly become victims of tuberculosis 
 and die. 
 
 Many of these aborigines are employed by the rural police 
 to assist in the capture of escaped prisoners, or to find peo- 
 ple who become lost in the "bush," as the back country is 
 
450 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 called. Those used in this service are called "black track- 
 ers," and besides their marvelous woodcraft they possess 
 a keen faculty of scent unsurpassed by even that of a hound 
 dog, and it is said that no prisoner who ever attempted to 
 escape into the bush has ever been able to elude them, and 
 they never fail to bring back those travelers who have lost 
 their way. 
 
 I went also to the lake whereon the black swans breed, and 
 was surprised to find that their young were white. The morn- 
 ing after my arrival there I was awakened by the sound of 
 myriads of little tinkling silver bells, and was amazed to find 
 that the sweet music came from the throats of numberless 
 little "bell" birds no bigger than my thumb. 
 
 I also saw in my travels into the interior of the country 
 those remarkable cranes called the "companion birds," 
 which live in flocks on marshy ground and when alarmed 
 form quadrille sets and dance. Really they appear to be 
 going through the figures of the "lancers," a dance very 
 popular fifty years ago. 
 
 There are no native songbirds, but the Australian magpie 
 learns to talk with great facility, and his voice is much more 
 human than that of the average parrot. The magpies which 
 nest near human habitations often repeat the words they 
 hear children use while at play, and when miles away from 
 any settlement the stranger, riding alone through the bush, 
 feels rather a creepy sensation when he is told by an invisi- 
 ble and almost human voice to "leave something alone," or 
 receives an invitation "to play." These birds when nesting 
 are very savage and will attack a man who even passes near 
 the tree where their nests are. I once saw a man who had 
 had his face and neck terribly lacerated and his cap torn to 
 shreds by a couple of them. 
 
 The ugly "lyre" or "bower" bird, with the beautiful tail 
 whose feathers form a very good imitation of a lyre, is also 
 something of a mimic, and by making sounds resembling the 
 chopping of wood, or the squeaking of wagon wheels, he 
 
Curious Australun Birds 451 
 
 entices the weary traveler (who about sundown is searching 
 for a place to camp) from the trail, and the trails are so 
 faintly marked that, once departed from, the wayfarer is 
 lost ; worse than that, he will never find the water he im- 
 agined must be near the camp whose sounds had been imi- 
 tated by the bird. One of the peculiarities of the lyre bird 
 is that he is somewhat of a landscape gardener, and makes 
 himself quite a pretty bower in which he places all sorts of 
 bright-colored pebbles. Why he builds the bower, unless it 
 is for a playground, has never been explained, as the bird 
 builds its nest, and deposits its eggs, in entirely different 
 places. 
 
 The "laughing jackass" is an unfailing source of amuse- 
 ment to the natives as well as to strangers. This brownish 
 bird is about the size of a small pigeon, and consists mostly 
 of a head which is larger than his body and ridiculous little 
 tail combined. His bill is shaped like that of a duck, and 
 his laugh is infectious. About sundown a dozen or more of 
 them can be seen sitting on the dead limb of a tree near 
 some barn, and one of them will begin to croon as though he 
 were telling his friends a funny story, and when he evi- 
 dently reaches the point of the joke, the others burst into 
 hilarious laughter sounding wonderfully like the mirth of a 
 lot of aged men. The laughing jackass is protected by law, 
 as he not only is a good scavenger, but he is also a good 
 ratter and mouser. He is, too, the deadly enemy of snakes, 
 of which there is no non-poisonous variety in Australia. He 
 soars high in the air when hunting for reptiles, and when 
 he espies his prey he lets himself fall out of the skies and 
 comes tumbling down in the same manner that a pelican 
 does when fishing, only the laughing jackass hits solid 
 ground instead of yielding water, and the sound of his little 
 body hitting the earth can be heard quite a distance away. 
 When he rises in the air again the snake can be seen dan- 
 gling from his talons while in small circles the bird attains 
 a great height. When he decides that he has reached the 
 
452 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 proper altitude for his purpose, he lets the snake drop and 
 comes tumbling down after it, at the same time giving 
 utterance to screams of laughter. This performance is re- 
 peated until the reptile is dead. I had one of these birds in 
 my garden as a pet, and every time I passed by him he 
 laughed at me until I became quite sensitive on the subject 
 of his disrespectful conduct. 
 
 But the most wonderful bird (or should I call it animal?) 
 of Australia is the " Ornithoryncus " or "Platibus," as it is 
 commonly called. This strange creature has a body formed 
 somewhat like that of a small beaver. Its fur is of almost as 
 fine a texture as that of a seal. It has the bill of a duck and 
 its four feet are webbed and shaped like those of a duck. It 
 lays eggs, and is amphibious ! 
 
CHAPTER LIV 
 
 Sir Henry Loch gives a fancy-dress ball in honor of the Queen's Jubilee — 
 The Melbourne Exhibition — Return to America via Suez Canal — Visit to the 
 "Isle of France" (Mauritius) — Paul and Virginia must have sat down hard 
 — Return to Melbourne — Secretary of State appoints a naval officer to take 
 charge of appropriation for American exhibit — First World's Fair Commis- 
 sion ever to turn back a balance into the Treasury — Receive a medal — 
 Leave Australia — Authorize captain of the Mariposa to return to Sydney — 
 Samoans as swimmers — Resign. 
 
 With the year 1887 came the preparations and festivi- 
 ties for the celebration of Queen Victoria's Jubilee, which 
 were opened at Government House by one of the grandest 
 fancy-dress balls that had ever taken place in Australia. 
 All of the costumes of the dealers were engaged long before 
 the great event, and even the theatres closed their doors 
 that night because the actors had no costumes left, as the 
 management had lent them all to swells who wanted to 
 attend the ball. I was one of those who could not procure 
 a fancy dress from either costumer or theatre, but not will- 
 ing to acknowledge myself beaten, I went home and brought 
 out a Mexican sombrero, serape, and a pair of brass spurs 
 which I had kept since the days I was in Mexico, and these, 
 with a pair of black trousers slashed up the side from foot 
 to knee and trimmed with gold lace, a piece of clothes-line 
 for a lasso, and some long false hair hanging from the 
 sombrero to below my shoulders, made me a very good imi- 
 tation of the Mexican vaquero or cowboy. My get-up was pro- 
 nounced the success of the evening, and I was followed by a 
 throng of the curious who wanted to know what character 
 I represented, what the lasso was for, and why I wore spurs 
 with rowels as big as silver dollars and with bells on them. 
 
 Some time previous to this ball, at the solicitation of Sir 
 Henry Loch, I had recommended to the State Department 
 the advisability of an appropriation for an American ex- 
 hibit at the great World's Fair which was shortly to take 
 
454 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 place in Melbourne, and Congress had appropriated the 
 necessary money. 
 
 The health of my wife, never very good, about this time 
 became so bad that her attending physicians advised me to 
 lose no time in taking her home. We took passage on a French 
 steamer and returned home via the Suez Canal, stopping 
 on the way at Adelaide, South Australia, Mauritius, or 
 Isle of France, Reunion, which in the days of the French 
 monarchy was known as the "Isle de Bourbon," the Sey- 
 chelles Islands, Aden, in Arabia, Suez, and from thence 
 through the Mediterranean to Messina, and, passing be- 
 tween Corsica and Sardinia, disembarked at Marseilles, 
 from which place we went to the Riviera. 
 
 I must mention that while at Mauritius we visited 
 the wonderful Botanic Gardens, and the attendant who 
 accompanied us through the grounds, with a perfectly 
 straight face pointed out the identical stone bench upon 
 which "Paul and Virginia" had sat! They must have sat 
 a long time judging from the two hollows worn in the stone. 
 
 From the Riviera we went to Paris, and after a short stay 
 proceeded to Havre, where we took a French steamer, and 
 after a most boisterous voyage arrived in New York at the 
 commencement of the great blizzard of March, 1888. 
 
 In April, 1888, I had to return to Australia, via San 
 Francisco, alone, but before doing so I went to Washington 
 to pay my respects to the President and to the Secretary of 
 State. Mr. Cleveland, of course, was very courteous ; I ex- 
 pected that; but I was greatly surprised at the cordiality 
 with which Mr. Bayard received me; in fact, he became quite 
 confidential during the interview and impressed upon me 
 the necessity of trying to curb the extravagance of the com- 
 missioners to the exhibition, of whom I was one {ex officio), 
 recently appointed to represent the country at the Mel- 
 bourne World's Fair. He told me that "these commissions 
 had become a stench in the nostrils of the nation, as it was 
 their custom to throw away the money they were authorized 
 
The World's Fair at Melbourne 455 
 
 to expend, and then come back to Congress for another ap- 
 propriation to pay the bills with." I suggested that if he 
 would put the funds into the hands of a naval officer, ac- 
 customed to disbursing large sums of money, this danger 
 might be easily avoided. Mr. Bayard seized upon the idea 
 with avidity, and asked me to accompany him to the office 
 of the Secretary of the Navy. On our way through the cor- 
 ridors I saw Lieutenant Marix, and told the Secretary that 
 this officer had recently been at Melbourne in the sloop-of- 
 war Enterprise, and Mr. Bayard asked me to introduce him. 
 In a few minutes the Secretary of the Navy had ordered Mr. 
 Marix to report for special duty to the Secretary of State. 
 The result of this appointment was not only a success, but 
 it also was very amusing. 
 
 When the commissioners reached Melbourne, all business 
 men, having private axes to grind, they proceeded to busi- 
 ness at once and held a meeting, to which I was not in- 
 vited, and decided that they would divide the appropriation 
 into as many parts as there were commissioners, and that 
 each one should take charge of a special department, and 
 be responsible for his share of the money. That being set- 
 tled, they called on me with a demand that I turn the 
 funds over to them. I never saw a madder set of men than 
 they were when I told them that I had nothing to do with 
 the money, and that it was not only not in my keeping, 
 but in that of a naval officer, who, acting under the 
 orders of the Secretary of State, would attend to the dec- 
 oration of the hall and arrangement of the exhibit as well as 
 the disbursement of all funds, and save them all trouble in 
 that respect. But the result was that, for the first time 
 in the history of American commissions to world fairs, every 
 bill was paid and a large balance returned to the United 
 States Treasury! 
 
 As an exhibition the World's Fair at Melbourne was a 
 great success, but unfortunately the Australians became 
 possessed of a craze for real estate speculation. The price 
 
456 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 of land, miles from the City Hall, was run up to fabulous 
 prices, the purchasers never stopping to inquire where the 
 necessary population was to come from to build on the lots 
 for which they paid so dearly. The madness dimmed the 
 business vision of all classes, with the result that when the 
 exhibition closed and the strangers went home, there fol- 
 lowed a panic which brought ruin to thousands of unfortu- 
 nately credulous people of moderate means as well as to 
 some of the wealthiest families in the country. 
 
 After the fair was over, through the United States State 
 Department, I received a most artistic and beautiful medal 
 in recognition of my endeavors to promote the success of 
 the undertaking. 
 
 In September, 1888, I left Australia on the steamship 
 Mariposa (Spanish for "butterfly") bound for San Fran- 
 cisco. It was Incky for the captain that I was on board, for 
 when we arrived at Auckland, New Zealand, he received a 
 cablegram urging him to return to Sydney to take command 
 of one of the company's ships the captain of which had 
 met with some accident. This could not be done without 
 the consent of the consul-general, as the vessel was under 
 the American flag. After consultation with the captain 
 and mate, and having satisfied myself that the latter had 
 a master's certificate, and was in every way competent, I 
 took this grave responsibility on myself and allowed the 
 captain to leave. 
 
 At the island of Tutuila, one of the Samoan group, I wit- 
 nessed a thrilling and most interesting sight. A schooner 
 from Apia always met the steamer at Tutuila with the mail 
 for the United States. We passed her a hawser and unfortu- 
 nately it slacked up and became entangled in our propeller. 
 The sea was smooth and the water was very clear, permit- 
 ting us to see down to quite a depth. Around the vessels 
 were several canoes filled with natives, both men and women 
 being as naked as the day they were born. A dozen or more 
 
The Samoans as Swimmers 457 
 
 had come on board of the steamer bringing fans, sea beans, 
 and other trifles to sell. Our captain offered to pay the men 
 if they would dive down and cut the hawser free from the 
 screw. They jumped at the chance of making a little easy 
 money, and being supplied with knives, they plunged over- 
 board, one at a time, and proceeded to saw away on the 
 heavy cable. They seemed to be able to stay below the sur- 
 face for an extraordinary length of time, and as fast as one 
 man would come to the surface another would go down and 
 continue the work. Suddenly those of us who were watch- 
 ing the performance were horrified to see two immense 
 sharks approach the man at work. The attention of the cap- 
 tain, who had spent many years on the Pacific, was called 
 to the monsters. The captain only laughed, and said that 
 if the Samoan was a white man he would already have been 
 eaten, but, he added, "Sharks are not cannibals, and they 
 won't harm their brother who is half fish himself." The 
 sequel proved the captain to be right, for while we stood 
 at the taffrail anxiously watching the terrors of the sea, one 
 of the sharks approached the man at work, and was so near 
 to him that he appeared to be smelling him, and the only 
 notice the Samoan took of the great fish was to put his 
 hand on its nose and shove it away. 
 
 As soon as the mail bags were safely on board, and the 
 screw was freed from its entanglement, we proceeded at full 
 speed. The native canoes made no attempt to follow us, 
 and the Samoans on our ship's deck seemed perfectly un- 
 concerned as they stood patiently waiting for a purchaser 
 for their wares. They asked no one to buy, and accepted 
 any money offered and gleefully parted with their property. 
 The ship was making about fourteen knots and Tutuila, 
 although a high island, was fast sinking out of sight behind 
 the horizon, when first one and then another of the "men 
 fish" looked toward his home. Quietly laying their wares 
 on the deck they deliberately walked to the rail and dived, 
 head first, into the sea. By this time we must have been 
 
458 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 some eight or more miles from land, and on my expressing 
 some anxiety about the islanders, the captain assured me 
 that they ran no risk, as they were perfectly capable of re- 
 maining in the water for forty-eight hours! 
 
 When I rejoined my wife in Washington, D.C., she was in 
 such bad health that I decided it would be impossible for 
 her to return to Australia, so I decided to resign the consul- 
 generalship. I called on the President and made known my 
 decision to him and was somewhat surprised when he re- 
 quested me to postpone sending in my resignation until I 
 heard further from him, and at the same time cautioned me 
 not to mention my intention to any one, as the news would 
 cause a host of applicants for the place to assemble in Wash- 
 ington to present their claims to the appointment before he 
 was ready to name my successor, and that would cause him 
 much inconvenience. A month later he signified to me that 
 the proper time had arrived. I regretted very much that 
 family reasons necessitated my giving up the lucrative and 
 congenial office, as I liked Australia and the Australians 
 very much, and although a Republican administration was 
 about to come into power, I could have retained the place 
 for another four years under President Harrison, who had 
 been a classmate and intimate friend of two of my brothers 
 at Miami University, Ohio. The family intimacy dated from 
 before the days of the Revolution and had always been main- 
 tained, and besides this kindly feeling, Mrs. Harrison, who 
 was a Miss Scott, was named for one of my father's sisters. 
 Then, too, Mr. Blaine, who was to succeed Mr. Bayard as 
 Secretary of State, was a good friend of mine, and his son. 
 Walker, who was also to occupy a position of influence in the 
 Department, was one of my intimates. Mr. Cleveland ap- 
 pointed as my successor, Mr. Lesesne, of Charleston, South 
 Carolina, who met with a tragic fate before he had been 
 very long in Australia. His body was found floating in 
 Sydney Harbor. 
 
CHAPTER LV 
 
 " Cedarcroft " — Death of Captain Dawson — Ten years on a farm — Va- 
 garies of the genus horse — Australian fox terriers. 
 
 When my daughter Frederica was born, both she and 
 her mother were so delicate that I was advised to take them 
 into the country, one of the doctors telling me frankly that 
 it was the best thing to do, but that he doubted if either of 
 them would be alive in six weeks. I bought a farm called 
 "Cedarcroft," near Gaithersburg, Maryland, and moved my 
 little family there and never had cause to regret it, as the 
 open-air life restored both wife and child to health. 
 
 We had hardly got comfortably settled on the farm when 
 I was summoned by telegraph to Charleston, South Caro- 
 lina, as a most horrible tragedy had occurred there result- 
 ing in the death of my dear friend and brother-in-law, Cap- 
 tain Francis Warrington Dawson, editor of the Charleston 
 "News and Courier." My sister, Mrs. Dawson, was in the 
 habit of making frequent visits to Europe, and on one of 
 these trips she had brought back with her a very pretty 
 Swiss nursemaid. Just around the corner from where Cap- 
 tain Dawson lived was the home of a Dr. McDow and his 
 family. The back yards of the two houses adjoined each 
 other. One day the nursemaid complained to Captain Daw- 
 son that whenever she went out with his children Dr. 
 McDow accosted her on the streets and forced his atten- 
 tions on her, and that she wanted a stop put to the an- 
 noyance. Captain Dawson was very indignant, and said 
 that he was going to see McDow and forbid him speaking to 
 the girl again while she was accompanying his children. He 
 was seen to enter McDow's office, which was on the ground 
 floor of his residence, but Captain Dawson never came 
 out again alive. What actually happened in that office 
 
460 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 only Dr. McDow knew. He was alone in the house, as his 
 family was absent at the time. At his trial the doctor testi- 
 fied that Dawson came into the office, where he, McDow, 
 was seated at his desk, and not only used abusive language, 
 but raised his cane to strike him, and that he, McDow, in 
 self-defense, seized a pistol which was lying in an open 
 drawer at his right hand, and fired, with the result that 
 Captain Dawson fell, mortally wounded. The singular part 
 of this story was that the autopsy showed that the bullet 
 had entered Captain Dawson's body from behind. To the 
 astonishment of the country at large the trial resulted in 
 a miscarriage of justice through a mistrial and Dr. McDow 
 was set free. 
 
 Captain Dawson had a strong character ; in fact, he was a 
 masterful man. He had many friends, and more enemies. 
 His caustic editorials in the " News and Courier" were much 
 admired by some, but the bee on the end of his pen had 
 stung many others. He had undoubtedly done as much as, 
 and probably more than, any other man to free South 
 Carolina from the carpetbag yoke, but when the editorial 
 lion was dead, the political hyenas whose aspirations he 
 had failed to further gathered at his grave to growl and snarl 
 over his dead body, and it was probably owing to this bitter 
 feeling that his murder went unavenged. Some years after 
 the horrible tragedy, Dr. McDow was found dead in his 
 house where he was living alone. 
 
 Sad at heart over the loss of my brother-in-law and best 
 of friends, and the bereavement of my sister and her son 
 and daughter, I returned to my Maryland farm. For ten 
 long years I devoted my time to farming and the breeding 
 of horses with rather worse than indifferent success. When 
 I started the business it seemed as though a craze had pos- 
 sessed all the young men of fortune in the country to set up 
 large breeding establishments, with the result that horses 
 became a drug on the market. 
 
 I wonder if any one ever understood the workings of a 
 
Vagaries of the Horse 461 
 
 horse's mind, or instinct, as some prefer to call it? The staid 
 and sober old family horse who will with the utmost sang- 
 froid walk up to a locomotive and smell it, or who will re- 
 fuse to become interested in blasting operations going on 
 near him, or who will go to sleep while the racing horses 
 drag a fire engine with its clanging bells by him on the 
 street, will throw a dozen fits, go into convulsions, and 
 smash things generally if he sees a piece of paper on the 
 ground, or when a chicken flies across the road in front of 
 him. I attended to the breaking of my colts myself, and 
 they usually afforded enough excitement to prevent my 
 suffering from ennui. Runaways and smash-ups were of 
 frequent occurrence and were regarded as being in the day's 
 work. One day, while driving a very gentle colt to a light 
 sulky, the ubiquitous chicken ran across the road in front 
 of him with the usual result. The colt jumped sideways and 
 fell, overturning the two-wheeled vehicle and throwing me 
 out, landing me at the bottom of a deep ditch with the colt 
 on top of me. When the colt struggled to his feet he stood 
 for a few moments with one hind foot planted on my breast. 
 I was almost suffocated, and for an instant thought that the 
 bones would be crushed in by the weight of the animal; but 
 he was a kindly creature and seemed to know he was hurting 
 me, as he, with deliberation, lifted his foot from my chest 
 and put it down alongside of my face. With all that tangled 
 mass of broken harness hanging from the young animal, I 
 did not know at what moment a kicking exhibition would 
 commence, and slowly raised myself to a sitting position 
 and inched myself out of immediate danger. A violent fit 
 of coughing, followed by the expectoration of a quantity of 
 blood, left me feeling quite weak, but I managed to get the 
 colt out of the ditch, and the only memento I now have of 
 my narrow escape from death is a protuberance of bone as 
 big as the end of my thumb which adorns the end of one of 
 my upper ribs. 
 
 I had brought several fox terriers from Melbourne, and as 
 
462 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 these dogs had never before seen snow it was amusing to see 
 them grab a mouthful, and when the cold bit their tongues, 
 lose their tempers and proceed to fight it. There are no non- 
 poisonous snakes in Australia, and when a blade of grass, 
 moved by the breeze, rustled against another, these little 
 animals would make a leap as though they were being shot 
 out of a catapult, so instinctively afraid were they of snakes. 
 Fox terriers at the time happened to be the fad in dogs, and 
 I bred them for profit. At times I would have between 
 twenty and thirty of these active, nervous, little creatures 
 on the farm, and life to them meant one continuous rat 
 hunt in the barn varied by wild chases after rabbits and 
 strange curs. Any one who has ever kept one fox terrier 
 can imagine the din in which we lived with twenty-five on 
 the premises. 
 
CHAPTER LVI 
 
 Visit Mrs. Jefferson Davis in New York — Accompany Mrs. Davis to Rich- 
 mond — Unveiling of the memorial window to Mr. Davis — Make the oration 
 at the unveiHng of the statuette to Mr. Davis in the Confederate Museum — 
 The old Confederate " White House" — Present my sword and letters from 
 President Davis and General Lee to the Museum — Letter from Mrs. Davis 
 on the subject of Prince Polignac's canard about his mission to France for 
 the purpose of selling the State of Louisiana. 
 
 In 1897, I went to visit Mrs. Jefferson Davis in New- 
 York. She was then living at the Girard Hotel, by no 
 means a fashionable hostelry, but the best the poor lady, 
 who was supporting herself by her pen, could afford. I had 
 last seen Mrs. Davis when she visited Mr. Trenholm's fam- 
 ily in Charleston, South Carolina, in 1867. At that time 
 she was a middle-aged woman in splendid health. She was 
 tall and her figure showed strength and activity in her ev- 
 ery movement. Imagine what a shock it was to me to see 
 coming into the room an old lady, bent with sorrow and 
 physical suffering, who walked with the assistance of a 
 cane. But the shock which her appearance gave me was 
 no greater than the change that time had wrought in me 
 caused her. I advanced to meet her, and she placed her 
 hands on my shoulders and kissed me, then, holding me at 
 arm's length, she earnestly gazed at my face for a moment 
 and suddenly exclaimed: "Jimmy! my child! What have 
 you done to your pretty brown hair?" She told me that 
 nothing had made her realize so vividly her own age as the 
 sight of my white hair, as she had always thought of me 
 as a laughing, romping boy, who, with her youngest brother, 
 was always in some kind of mischief. 
 
 When the memorial window to Mr. Jefferson Davis, in 
 St. Paul's Church in Richmond, was to be unveiled, in 
 April, 1898, Colonel Burton N. Harrison, Mr. Davis's former 
 
464 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 private secretary, and I were invited to accompany Mrs. 
 Davis to the former capital of the Confederacy. It was not 
 a cheerful trip, for we could not help but remember that 
 former painful journey that we had taken together when 
 Richmond fell and the hopes of the Southern people were 
 annihilated. Try as we would we could find no topic of 
 conversation that would not lead us back to memories of 
 our loved ones who had passed away since the stormy days 
 of the war, or recollections of the gallant heroes we had 
 known who had died for what they thought was the cause of 
 the right. 
 
 At the unveiling I found it difficult to fix my attention 
 upon the religious services of the moment, as my memory 
 surged backward to a time some forty years previously when 
 I sat in the same church with the family of Mr. Trenholm 
 and listened to its much-loved old rector, Dr. Minnegerode, 
 with his strong German accent, pray fervently for the 
 success of our arms ; and when my attention would wan- 
 der, as wander sometimes it did, my eyes would frequently 
 rest upon the bowed heads of such historical personages 
 as President Davis, General Lee, "Stonewall" Jackson, 
 J. E. B. Stuart, and many other officers of high rank and 
 fame who usually attended services there when they were 
 in Richmond for the day. 
 
 The day after the unveiling of the memorial window, I 
 was invited to make the speech in presenting a statuette of 
 Mr. Davis, which had been given to the ladies in charge of 
 the Confederate Museum, which occupies the former resi- 
 dence of the Confederacy's chief. I could only with difficulty 
 control my emotion as I spoke, for that house, where as a 
 young midshipman I had romped with "Jeff" Howell, Mrs. 
 Davis's youngest brother, and where I had spent so many 
 happy days when off duty, was now filled with ghosts of the 
 past. The ladies connected with the Museum were very 
 kind to me, and I felt very much complimented when they 
 requested me to present to the Museum the Confederate 
 
Prince Polignac's Canard 465 
 
 regulation naval sword, which I wore when I accompanied 
 Mrs. Davis South. The sword was made in England, and 
 had the cotton plant chased on one side of the blade, and 
 the tobacco plant on the other; also the first Confederate 
 flag (the "Stars and Bars") and the naval coat of arms — 
 two crossed cannon and a fouled anchor. This sword now 
 hangs in the "Louisiana" room of the Confederate "White 
 House." 
 
 Prince Polignac, a French officer, served for a time in the 
 Confederate Army. Mr. Jefferson Davis appointed him a 
 brigadier-general and sent him to Louisiana to serve under 
 Mr. Davis's brother-in-law, General "Dick" Taylor, com- 
 manding the Southern troops in that part of the country. 
 Prince Polignac, being a foreigner, had an advantage over 
 the native-born soldiers in that he could quit when he 
 got tired. A wearied feeling came over him in the latter 
 part of 1864, when things were looking rather gloomy for 
 the Confederacy, and he returned to "la belle France," as 
 he had a perfect right to do. As distance always "lends en- 
 chantment to the view," Polignac after a few years began 
 to imagine himself a second Lafayette as well as the real hero 
 of the Confederate Army. In carrying out the resemblance 
 to Lafayette, he proposed to revisit America after thirty 
 years and make a triumphal tour of the Southern States. 
 He really seemed to labor under the hallucination that he 
 had won the independence of the Southern Confederacy. 
 But that was not the only illusion he labored under. In 1901, 
 unable longer to bear the strain of an impossible state secret 
 whose weight he had staggered under for forty years, he 
 confided to a newspaper reporter the story of Jefferson 
 Davis's treachery and meditated treason, and told how he, 
 Polignac, had been sent to France by Mr. Davis to offer to 
 the Emperor Napoleon III the State of Louisiana in return 
 for military assistance in the struggle then going on be- 
 tween the North and South. I sent the newspaper clipping 
 to Mrs. Davis and received the following reply: — 
 
466 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 Hotel Girard, New York, 
 123 West Forty-Fourth Street, 
 March 21, 1901. 
 
 My dear Jimmie: — 
 
 Your letter was a great surprise to me and I have sent it with 
 the slip to Mr. Reagan. I should have asked Burton Harrison for 
 his memories in the matter, but knew the whole statement false, 
 and even if it had not been, Harrison would not have known 
 anything about a matter necessarily of so private a nature. The 
 matters of State were not, of course, confided to him, so Mr. 
 Reagan will answer the accusation definitely and brand it as a 
 scandalous invention of some one. That some thoughtless men 
 might have collogued together is barely possible, but not probable, 
 as if we had been reduced to such a strait the French Government 
 would have known Mr. Davis could not give France territory 
 already on the eve of being captured from us, and such an agree- 
 ment or offer would have been utterly worthless. 
 
 Even the man who writes does not certify to Mr. Davis or the 
 Confederate Government having sent Prince Polignac on such a 
 mission. Who else had the right? This is a ridiculus mus, I sup- 
 pose found by some pothouse statesman. 
 
 Thank you for your defense of Mr. Davis, and believe me, 
 
 Faithfully your friend, 
 
 V. Jefferson Davis. 
 
 Mr. Reagan was Postmaster-General of the Confederate 
 Government, and at the time Mrs. Davis wrote the fore- 
 going letter he was the only survivor of President Davis's 
 Cabinet. Mrs. Davis sent me his answer to the canard 
 about the offer to trade Louisiana, and of course it was an 
 indignant denial of the story. Wishing to put the refutation 
 of the impossible falsehood where it could be seen by future 
 generations, and also to protect Mr. Davis's memory, I gave 
 Mr. Reagan's letter to Professor Callahan, the Southern 
 historian, as I knew Mrs. Davis wanted it to have pub- 
 licity. But Mrs. Davis objected to some statements that 
 Professor Callahan had made concerning her husband 
 in some of his writings, and when I informed her as to 
 the disposition I had made of the letter she wrote me at 
 once as follows : — 
 
A Letter from Mrs. Davis 467 
 
 Hotel Girard, New York, 
 123 West Forty-Fourth Street, 
 April 9, 1898. 
 My dear Jimmie: — 
 
 Yours received. Please get back the letter which you sent to 
 Professor Callahan ; I do not wish him to have it, and wish to pre- 
 serve it myself. I have no reason to suppose that he will use it in 
 the just and impartial spirit of a historian, nor yet with the rever- 
 ence due to my dead husband's memory. I am sure you meant to 
 perpetuate Mr. Reagan's testimony in the most enduring manner, 
 but some of Professor Callahan's utterances convince me to the 
 contrary. With thanks for your interest, and very happy over 
 my friend Prince Polignac's interest in my husband's stainless 
 reputation, 
 
 I am affectionately yours, 
 
 V. Jefferson Davis. 
 
CHAPTER LVII 
 
 The hero of Manila Bay — Distinguished dead who were my friends — 
 Some learned societies which have honored me — "Peace at any price." 
 
 In 1898, I sold " Cedarcrof t," my country place, and 
 moved to the City of Washington where I was living when 
 the "hero of Manila Bay" returned to the capital after his 
 brilliant victory and received an ovation from his fellow 
 citizens which must have made his very blood tingle with 
 pride and gratification. In the old prints the naval heroes 
 are always depicted as standing on the quarter deck, sword 
 in hand, and pointing with it toward some indefinite object 
 in the distance, but the picture of Admiral Dewey which 
 I saw a few days after his triumphal entry into the city, 
 although never painted, will remain indelibly printed on my 
 memory as long as life lasts. 
 
 My little daughter, Frederica, a child of nine, was, like 
 everybody else, enthusiastic over the admiral, and her one 
 ambition was to shake hands with him and be able to boast 
 in years to come that she had talked with the great man. I 
 was persuaded to take her to his bachelor quarters to satisfy 
 her longing. The admiral, of course, was very kind and 
 courteous, as it is natural for him to be, and in a little while 
 he took the child into the next room, leaving his aide- de- 
 camp and me to entertain each other. After some little 
 time, fearing we were making too long a visit and that the 
 admiral might tire of his little guest, I went into the room 
 to tell her it was time for us to say good-bye. As I entered 
 the apartment I beheld as pretty a picture as ever eyes 
 rested upon. There, in front of an open trunk, seated on 
 the floor, side by side, were the victorious admiral and the 
 little girl having the time of their lives. The hero was busily 
 pinning his decorations and medals on the front of her little 
 dress, and around her neck was the famous diamond-studded 
 
Distinguished Friends 469 
 
 chain of the magnificent watch which the City of Boston had 
 presented to him. With much laughter he ordered the aide 
 and myself to leave him and his playmate alone, and for 
 nearly an hour longer continued to amuse her with the 
 treasures the wonderful trunk contained. 
 
 I have other and sadder memories of distinguished and 
 gallant officers whom I have had the honor to number 
 among my dear and personal friends. I was one of the pall- 
 bearers at the funeral of Major-General Harry Heth, who 
 commanded a division in General Lee's army. General Heth 
 was like one of the family in General Lee's house, where he 
 had spent much of his time in boyhood. He had the unique 
 distinction of being the only officer whom General Lee ever 
 was heard to call by his first name. He invariably addressed 
 both of his sons, Custis and Runie, as "General," but Gen- 
 eral Heth was always spoken to as "Harry." 
 
 Another dear friend whose body I accompanied on its 
 last journey was Rear Admiral James E. Jouett, U.S.N. , 
 one of the most gallant officers in the service. He it was who 
 in a launch boarded and captured the Confederate gunboat 
 Royal Yacht in Galveston Harbor, and afterwards com- 
 manded the U.S.S. Metacomet which was lashed alongside 
 of the Hartford at the battle of Mobile Bay. He cut loose 
 from the Hartford and engaged the C.S. gunboat Selma 
 and after a furious engagement destroyed her. I on one 
 occasion heard Mr. Loyal Farragut, the only son of the 
 great admiral, say that undoubtedly Jouett was his father's 
 favorite captain. 
 
 Admiral Jouett died at the "Anchorage," near Sandy 
 Springs, Maryland, his favorite place of residence. I was in 
 the same house with him when he passed away, and only a 
 week or ten days before I had seen that wonderful old gen- 
 tleman (he was a good deal over seventy) on a moonlight 
 night out with his beloved hounds chasing a fox. None of 
 Admiral Jouett's immediate family were with him when he 
 
470 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 died, as they were in Florida at the time. I could not bear 
 the idea of the old hero being buried from an undertaker's 
 shop, so I had his body taken to my residence in Washing- 
 ton, and from there, escorted by the Marine Band and a 
 battalion of marines and sailors, it was taken to Arlington, 
 where he now rests. 
 
 As an ex-vice-president of the Society of the Sons of the 
 Revolution I was one of the guard of honor who walked 
 alongside of the caisson which bore the remains of General 
 Clinton, the fourth Vice-President of the United States, 
 and a Revolutionary hero, from the Congressional Cemetery 
 to the railway station on the occasion of their removal to 
 his native State of New York in 1908. 
 
 When I was United States Consul-General in Melbourne, 
 the Royal Geographical Society of Australasia did me the 
 honor of making me a life member, and in 1904, when the 
 Eighth International Geographic Congress met in Wash- 
 ington, my Australian friends further honored me by ap- 
 pointing me their delegate. The assemblage was a most 
 imposing one, for here were assembled the most distinguished 
 geographers and explorers living at the time. When I was 
 called on to say something, I felt very nervous in the pres- 
 ence of such a gathering, for while I had wandered over a 
 great portion of the globe, I had not been any place that 
 some explorer had not been before me. So to avoid ap- 
 pearing silly, I read to them a hitherto unpublished diary 
 of my great-grandfather. Colonel George Morgan, giving a 
 graphic account of a voyage he made in a batteau from the 
 mouth of the Kaskaskia River to the Gulf of Mexico in 
 1767. Butler in his "History of Kentucky" (1834) says: 
 "The earliest enterprise in navigating the Mississippi by 
 Americans from Pittsburgh to New Orleans was indeed one 
 of boldness. It was performed by Colonel Taylor, of Ken- 
 tucky, his brother, and Colonel Linn, who got as far as the 
 Yazoo and then went to Georgia with the Southern Indians 
 in 1769." 
 
Honors from Learned Societies 471 
 
 Colonel Morgan's voyage was made, as recorded in his 
 diary, two years previous to this date, namely, 1767; and 
 he also covered the whole route, returning to Philadelphia 
 by sea. The Geographic Congress was much interested in 
 the diary and ordered it printed in its "Proceedings." 
 
 Again, in 1906, the Royal Geographical Society of Aus- 
 tralasia paid me the compliment of delegating me to rep- 
 resent them at the celebration of the two hundredth anni- 
 versary of the birth of Benjamin Franklin, held under the 
 auspices of the American Philosophical Society of Phila- 
 delphia, an institution which was founded in 1743. When 
 the delegates were called to order it appeared that most, if 
 not all, of the great scientific societies and institutions of 
 learning in the world were represented. Oxford, Cam- 
 bridge, the Royal Society of London, as well as many of 
 the Continental universities, had sent some of their ablest 
 men to represent them and to do honor to the memory of 
 Benjamin Franklin. 
 
 Harvard, Yale, and other American universities and 
 learned societies were represented by such men as Charles 
 W. Eliot, Arthur T. Hadley, Dr. S. Weir Mitchell, Professor 
 Simon Newcomb, etc. When the speech-making began, one 
 of the delegates addressed the assembly in Latin, and was 
 followed by others who spoke in the languages of their 
 various nationalities, and I must confess that I felt myself 
 very much out of place amidst all this erudition until Mr. 
 Andrew Carnegie, Lord Rector of the University of St. 
 Andrew's, mounted the stage and commenced orating with 
 his strong Scotch accent. 
 
 In 1 9 14 I was invited to deliver the oration on the oc- 
 casion of the decoration of the graves of the Confederate 
 dead at Winchester, Virginia, — historic Winchester, around 
 which so many bloody battles were fought, and which 
 changed hands so many times during the great conflict of 
 the Civil War, and where some of the residences to this day 
 show the marks where shot and shell struck them. 
 
472 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 There are two graveyards at Winchester, situated side by 
 side, with only a narrow footpath separating them. One 
 is the United States National Cemetery, where sleep the 
 Federal soldiers who fell in the neighborhood, and in the 
 other lie the Confederates who probably killed and were 
 killed by them. It is a solemn sight, these brave and silent 
 warriors camped alongside of each other for all eternity. 
 
 I am doubtful if my remarks on that occasion met with 
 unanimous approval from my living audience. I feel sure, 
 however, that they met with the approval of the dead heroes 
 who, I maintained, had given up life and all that was dear 
 to them in an effort to defend and protect their native land. 
 But a fad, amounting almost to a religious mania, has swept 
 over the nation in recent years. It is called "peace at any 
 price" and is a menace to the country. Most living South- 
 erners have either forgotten or never have experienced bayo- 
 net rule, and how the carpetbagger and the negro tyrannized 
 over us in the days of the so-called " Reconstruction." They 
 seem to think that if the conqueror does come, it will only 
 be like a change in national administration, and that, secure 
 in their lives and property, all will go on as before. These 
 deluded " peace-at-any-price " people are bad enough, but 
 then we have in our midst the more dangerous element — 
 American braggarts — who maintain that no preparation 
 for war is necessary, as a crowd of farmers and dry-goods 
 clerks armed with pitchforks, scythes, and yardsticks, or a 
 corporal's guard of Boy Scouts with their pretty little staffs 
 can whip the British Coldstream Guards and the Prussian 
 Death's-Head Hussars combined ! They point with pride to 
 how the Confederates built, within a few months, ironclads 
 which fought splendidly, and in their ignorance nothing 
 but a great disaster could make them realize that a single 
 modern dreadnaught can whip the Gulf of Mexico full of 
 just such craft as the Merrimac, Albemarle, Arkansas, and 
 Tennessee. 
 
 They have entrusted the training of their boys entirely 
 
The Peace-at-any-Price Fad 473 
 
 to women, forgetting that woman follows the fashion 
 of the moral fad of the hour as earnestly as she does the 
 Parisian styles in clothes, and is easily persuaded to take up 
 with ecstasy such fads or myths as universal peace, and to 
 labor conscientiously to instill into the pliant minds of her 
 young pupils the beautiful and peaceful principles of turn- 
 ing the other cheek, or lying down when they feel them- 
 selves being imposed upon. In fact, deep in her heart, 
 there is nothing a woman has such a contempt and disgust 
 for as she has for a weakling or a coward, and when the fad 
 of the day is war, there is nothing so merciless and cruel as 
 the female. I remember seeing the mothers and grand- 
 mothers of these same women, in the early sixties of the 
 last century, instigating their men-folks to arm and slay, 
 and I distinctly remember how they would contempt- 
 uously sweep aside their skirts for fear they would be con- 
 taminated by coming in contact with even a lifelong male 
 friend who had dodged going into the fray. I also told the 
 young men that these same young women, who held aloft 
 their peace banners with such a sanctimonious air, would 
 march off with the conqueror when he came, leaving their 
 own men, the creatures of their fallacious teaching, pros- 
 trate under the heel of the victor, bereft of self-respect, 
 property, and of all their good-looking young women. I 
 warned them that wars would occur in the future as they had 
 in the past; that they had continued, with short intervals 
 of peace (for the purpose of recuperating their energies), 
 since the time when God Almighty Himself and his arch- 
 angel had led the hosts, to the day of Appomattox. 
 
 I made my speech on the 30th of June, and on the ist of 
 August, thirty-two days later, the greatest war the world 
 has yet witnessed was begun in Europe. 
 
CHAPTER LVIII 
 
 The "birth of a nation" — Assistant manager of the Washington branch 
 of the International Banking Corporation — Extracts from a diary kept on 
 a journey to Panama — Meet my old classmates Admirals Coghlan and Glass, 
 of the "brood of the Constitution" — My old hulk is laid up in ordinary 
 waiting to be scrapped. 
 
 It does not fall to the lot of every man to be present at 
 the birth of a nation, but it so happened that I was present 
 when the Republic of Panama made its first appearance in 
 the family of — so-called — independent countries. Presi- 
 dent Roosevelt was the chief medical attendant in charge 
 of the accouchement, with William Nelson Cromwell acting 
 as sage femme and the French engineer, Bunau-Varilla, 
 acting the part of the trained nurse. 
 
 It so happened that in the year 1903 I was the assistant 
 manager of the Washington branch of the International 
 Banking Corporation. The high officials of the bank, whose 
 headquarters were in New York, knew what was in the 
 wind, and wished to send a representative to the Isthmus 
 to spy out the land and report as to the advisability of 
 establishing branches there. All of the bank officials agreed 
 that it would be advisable to investigate the new field, but 
 such was the universal fear of the dreaded yellow fever that 
 they all side-stepped the detail. I volunteered for the service 
 and received the appointment, as there were no competitors. 
 
 The following extracts, made from my diary kept on the 
 voyage, may be of interest : — 
 
 December I, 1903. At 11. 30 A.M. boarded the Panama steam- 
 ship Seguranca. This ship was the headquarters of General 
 Shafter and his chief of staff, Colonel Miley, during the Span- 
 ish War. Found the decks deserted, but soon saw Mr. Bunau- 
 Varilla, the first Panamanian Minister to the United States, come 
 up from below. He continued to bob up and down through the 
 hatchway until the ship was ready to sail. I wondered at his 
 
The Birth of a Nation 475 
 
 strange antics until I learned that the whole Panama Govern- 
 ment, the "Junta," was on board. 
 
 A man who holds forth continuously in the smoking-room 
 swears that he took part in the last Panama revolution and that 
 "so many men were killed that the buzzards would not touch 
 any one under the rank of a colonel." 
 
 December 6. The "Junta," which hitherto has remained se- 
 cluded, is now very much in evidence on deck. It appears that I 
 am an object of some little curiosity among them. I was ap- 
 proached by Seiior Arosemina, a highly educated gentleman with 
 charming manners, who evidently intended to pump me as to my 
 object in going to Panama at this time. He was very diplomatic 
 and tactful, but I made the work easy for him by blurting out 
 that "I had no secrets to conceal. I represented a great bank 
 which had branches all over the world, and that I was going to 
 the Isthmus to find out if it would pay us to establish branches 
 there." The senor's astonishment at my frankness was so great 
 that he fairly gasped, and then he took his leave. 
 
 In a little while I was interviewed by another member of the 
 "Junta," Don Federico Boyd, — the name sounds English be- 
 cause his father was a former American newspaper editor in 
 Panama. Don Federico's manner was very different from that of 
 the courtly Arosemina. He appeared to me to be very angry, and 
 tersely informed me that under no circumstances would I be 
 permitted to open a bank on the Isthmus, and then he turned 
 on his heel and walked away. 
 
 Shortly after this Seiior Arosemina came to my stateroom, I 
 suppose for the purpose of finding out how I took the unpleasant 
 news. I told him that I wanted to bet that the United States, 
 after all, would not recognize the Republic of Panama. As he 
 smiled incredulously, I told him that General Thomas H. Hub- 
 bard, president of the International Banking Corporation, was 
 not only a man of great wealth and social prominence, but that 
 he was a man of great influence in the councils of the Republican 
 Party, and that as soon as the ship reached the dock in Colon I 
 was going to cable him that no American would be allowed to do 
 a banking business in the country, and that of course he would 
 make the contents of my cablegram public, and that I did not 
 believe any United States Senator would have the courage to vote 
 for the recognition of a country which would not allow a reputable 
 American banker to do business within its limits. 
 
 The seiior seemed to consider my remarks as of sufificient im- 
 portance to be reported to the "Junta," and soon I received a 
 
476 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 visit from the head of that august body, Dr. Amador, first Presi- 
 dent of the Republic of Panama, who informed me that I entirely 
 misunderstood what Don Federico Boyd had said to me ; that the 
 idea the latter intended to convey was that no foreign bank would 
 be permitted to flood the country with its notes, etc.; but that 
 while he did not think that a foreign bank would find it lucrative 
 to start business in the community, still if I wanted to lose my 
 money no one would prevent me so long as I did not put any bank- 
 notes into circulation. As the International was not a bank of 
 issue, and as I had never mentioned any intention of putting out 
 bank-notes, I thought the explanation very ingenious — and very 
 satisfactory. I told the President that I was merely going to look 
 over the field and report as to whether or not I considered it would 
 be advantageous to establish branches there. I afterwards learned 
 that two of the President's daughters were married to two sons of 
 Ehrman, who seemed to have a monopoly of the banking business 
 of the country. 
 
 Dr. Amador is tall and straight with a benign countenance and 
 is possessed of the typical sympathetic manners of the family 
 physician. He is said to be universally beloved and respected by 
 the people of Panama. 
 
 December 8. Ship rolled and pitched heavily all night. At day- 
 light arrived at Colon, American fleet commanded by my former 
 classmate Rear Admiral Joseph B. Coghlan ("Jolly Joe"), the 
 man who created such excitement by repeating the popular 
 "Hoch der Kaiser" rhymes, the refrain of which is "Me und 
 Gott," for which he was banished to Bremerton. 
 
 About every half-hour a rain squall passes over the place and 
 the water comes down, not in drops, but in sheets. 
 
 A small crowd of officials came to the dock to welcome Dr. 
 Amador home. They seem delighted to learn that they have had 
 a revolution and that it has been successful (in Washington). 
 Dr. A. is really the whole revolution. 
 
 At 9 A.M. took the special train for Panama. Train decorated 
 with flags. We had an ovation all the way across the Isthmus. 
 The train runs for some distance along the banks of the Chagres 
 River and crosses that stream several times. From Colon to 
 Panama there is an almost continuous settlement inhabited chiefly 
 by Chinamen and Jamaica negroes. Along the route of the pro- 
 posed canal there lies, going to ruin, an extraordinary amount of 
 machinery such as locomotives, cars, steel rails, etc., and steam 
 tugs, dredges, and barges. 
 
DR. M. AMADOK 
 
 First President of the Republic of Panama, 1903 
 
The Panama Revolution 477 
 
 Arriving at Panama we found the city gayly decorated with 
 flags, and the whole Panamanian army was at the railway station 
 to do honor to their chief. It was a most extraordinary array com- 
 posed mostly of negroes. There were tall old men with short guns 
 of the vintage of 1 8 12, and small boys, evidently not more than 
 fourteen years of age, carrying old muskets with enormously long 
 barrels; their uniforms were evidently made to suit the taste of 
 the individual wearers, as no two were alike, most of them being 
 adorned with yellow, blue, and red rags supposed to represent 
 ribbons; but they all appeared to be dirty and ragged. A band of 
 music, however, enlivened the scene as they gayly marched off 
 escorting their new President to his residence. On the route bombs 
 were exploded and fire-crackers lavishly popped. 
 
 The Hotel Central where I stopped was only two or three dooFs 
 from the home of Dr. Amador, in front of which a band of music 
 and an enthusiastic crowd remained until 9.30 p.m. when it 
 quietly dispersed. The American idea of no more bloodshed and 
 no more revolutions seems to rule supreme. "Peace and pros- 
 perity" are the watchwords. God grant for these poor people 
 that this dream, which is so contrary to their nature, may come 
 true. 
 
 December 9. The humid, hot atmosphere is almost stifling. 
 Went out to buy a straw hat. Could not find a Panama hat in any 
 of the stores. Panamanians don't wear them; so compromised on 
 a straw hat made in Italy. 
 
 Called on the American Consul-General, who seemed very 
 much gratified when I presented him with a personal letter of 
 introduction from Mr. John Hay, Secretary of State. Wanting 
 some money, armed with my letter of credit I called on Mr. 
 Henry Ehrman, local king of finance. The first question he asked 
 me was as to whether I was personally acquainted with Mr. Wil- 
 liam Nelson Cromwell, of New York, and when I had to acknowl- 
 edge that I did not have the honor, I could plainly see that he did 
 not think much of me. Everybody I meet asks me the same ques- 
 tion, by way of making conversation, and when I reply in the 
 negative they appear to lose all interest in me. Before leaving the 
 United States I was under the impression that President Roosevelt 
 was the "king pin" in that country just at present, but I find I am 
 mistaken. 
 
 Mr. Ehrman questioned me as to where I was born, and when 
 told Louisiana, he seemed delighted to meet me, and to my sur- 
 prise the rich man told me that he had once carried a peddler's 
 
478 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 pack In that State, and went on to inquire if we had any mutual 
 acquaintances. To my surprise he asked me if I knew the Averys 
 of Louisiana, and when I told him that Judge Avery was a most 
 intimate friend of my father, and that I had been a schoolmate of 
 his sons, I could see the mercury in my social thermometer rise 
 with a bound and my status was established so far as Panama was 
 concerned. Ehrman told me that when a peddler he often stopped 
 at Avery's Island and that the family were always very kind to 
 him. In Mr. Ehrman's bank there were coils of rope, dry goods, 
 bolts of silk, and various other merchandise for sale. I inquired 
 as to what the rate of exchange was that day, and he drew him- 
 self up and replied," Whatever I choose to make it!" — and he 
 told the truth too. 
 
 While there a dump cart loaded with silver coin stopped in 
 front of the bank and dumped its contents on the sidewalk, and 
 the clerks went out and sat around it while counting the dollars. 
 I caused Mr. Ehrman great amusement by asking him what rate 
 of interest he paid depositors. He replied that he "charged them 
 two per cent for taking care of their money!" I decided then and 
 there that Panama was a good place for a bank. 
 
 I find that my name is not one to conjure with here, as the 
 legends of the people have kept fresh the memory of Morgan the 
 Buccaneer's burning of Panama. I do not think it necessary to 
 tell them that Sir Henry's name appears on the old genealogical 
 tree brought to America by my ancestor who was the first of his 
 family to settle there. 
 
 After luncheon took a siesta. All doors and windows in the hotel 
 are left open. About 3.30 p.m. I arose and was sitting on the side 
 of my bed, clad only in gauze undershirt and drawers, when who 
 should walk into my room, unannounced, but the President of the 
 Republic, who, believing in the old adage that it is "the early 
 bird which catches the worm," had a little business, on the side, 
 which he wanted to see me about, namely, to rent me one 6f his 
 buildings in case I decided to establish a bank in Panama. I 
 found it somewhat difficult to talk business in a dignified manner 
 while en deshabille, especially with the ruler of a great nation, so 
 I called his attention to a photograph of my fourteen-year-old 
 daughter which was on my dressing-table, and before he ceased 
 admiring it I had slipped on my clothes and felt myself to be again 
 "the solemn banker." We went out for a stroll to see his building 
 and he also showed me the ancient fortifications of the city, which 
 were very interesting. 
 
An Exciting Night 479 
 
 December 10. The hotel stands on the public plaza on the other 
 side of which is the Cathedral ; near by is the Bishop's palace, a 
 part of the lower floor of which is occupied by the Panama lottery. 
 I had a bad night of it and little sleep. I retired at 10.30 p.m. and 
 found that there were as many mosquitoes inside the net as there 
 were outside. It was difficult to kill them, as I had only the feeble 
 light of a primitive candle. Came near setting the hotel on fire, 
 and at last fell asleep, only to be awakened at midnight by a fel- 
 low with a magnificent baritone voice and a guitar. He was sere- 
 nading his lady love who lived in the vicinity. Being old and 
 crabbed I said something that sounded to me very much like 
 
 " D n !" and then went to sleep again, to be awakened an hour 
 
 afterwards by firing in the distance; it sounded to me like the once 
 familiar picket firing. Going out on the piazza I saw two young 
 men in front of the park gate who were quietly chatting and 
 
 smoking. Said "D n!" again and went back to bed. It was 
 
 half-past one when the firing again awakened me. This time it 
 seemed nearer. Went out on the piazza and saw the young men 
 (before mentioned) still in the park, where they were still smok- 
 ing. Did not see any reason why I should get excited if they were 
 
 not, so gave vent to a real big big " D n " and went to bed for 
 
 the third time. About 2 A.M. firing became very heavy and soldiers 
 crowded the plaza. Several bullets pattered against the front wall 
 of the hotel. I could not believe that military men would fire a 
 feu dejoie with ball cartridges, so I jumped up and hastily dressed, 
 feeling sure that I was in for another revolution. Slipping a 
 pistol into my hip pocket I went downstairs. The hotel seemed 
 deserted, and not a living soul was to be seen in the patio. The 
 entrance to the hotel from the street was through a tunnel re- 
 sembling the sallyport of a fort. If I was to die I wanted the 
 finish to take place in the open and not in a trap, like a rat. Know- 
 ing the great love (?) of the natives for the accursed Yankee, I had 
 little doubt as to what my fate would be as soon as I was recognized 
 as belonging to the hated race. Judge of my astonishment when I 
 reached the street and several men threw their arms around me 
 while exclaiming, "Amigo Americano!" I soon learned that the 
 cause of the commotion was that the soldiers did not think that 
 sufficient joy had been shown on the occasion of the return of their 
 chief two days ago, and they had chosen this unearthly hour 
 further to honor their President. 
 
 Dr. Amador appeared on his front piazza in response to their 
 cheers and made them a speech which was loudly applauded. 
 
480 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 There were "Vivas" for William Nelson Cromwell, the greatest 
 man in America (in their opinion), but none for Theodore Roose- 
 velt. Finally the soldiers returned peaceably to their barracks, 
 and I to my bed. 
 
 I called to-day on Mr. Dukey, who runs the lottery. He also 
 does a banking business. He tells me that he has an average of 
 fifty thousand dollars on deposit with him. He thinks that the 
 International will be ruined if it establishes a branch here. But 
 if they do put one here, he would like to take charge of it for 
 a liberal consideration. Also called on Mr. Brandon, who has a 
 combination bank and store. He evidently considers himself a 
 very important personage and gave me a scolding because I had 
 not brought letters of introduction to him from my bank. Also 
 seemed disgusted that I was not acquainted with the great Crom- 
 well. However, I placated him by buying a box of cigars. He as- 
 sured me that a branch bank here would be the death-knell of 
 the International, but that he would accept the management of it 
 if the pay was sufficient. 
 
 I went to see several foreigners who are in business, who pleaded 
 with me to establish a branch here, and grew eloquent over the 
 advantages that would accrue to the bank if I did so. 
 
 In the afternoon Rear Admiral Glass, U.S.N., and United 
 States Consul-General Gudger called on me. I was at Annapolis 
 with Glass. He is the man who graduated "No. i " of my class, 
 the famous "brood of the Constitution," so called because they 
 spent their first year at the Naval Academy on board of that his- 
 toric frigate. 
 
 December 11. Went with Mr. Peet, agent of the Pacific Steam 
 Navigation Company, on his yacht to return the call of Admiral 
 Glass. Had a most affectionate and warm reception. The admiral 
 took us in his barge from his flagship Marblehead to call on the 
 captain of the U.S. monitor Wyoming, and from that vessel we 
 went to H.B.M. cruiser Amphion, where we were very hospi- 
 tably entertained. There were a number of enormous sharks 
 swimming round these men-of-war waiting for scraps to be thrown 
 overboard. There was one huge shark in particular which had but 
 one eye; every sailor that has ever visited the port, I was told, 
 knew him, as he had been about the harbor for a length of time 
 beyond the memory of any living man. He was called "One- 
 Eyed Pete," and was said to be perfectly harmless, but I did not 
 see any one in swimming — and it was a hot day too. 
 
 December 12. At 10 o'clock this morning called on President 
 
Interesting Facts about Panama 481 
 
 Amador and his Cabinet at the Government House. Had a very 
 pleasant reception. I urged them to deposit the ten million dol- 
 lars they are to receive from the United States with our bank and 
 offered them four per cent interest on all sums of over a million 
 placed with us as a fixed deposit for one or more years. They 
 seemed pleased with the offer, and it looks as if I may get it. 
 
 December 12. Having learned what I wanted to know about 
 my business, I took the evening train for Colon. Colonel Black, of 
 the United States Engineers, was a fellow passenger, and strongly 
 urged me to establish a bank on the Isthmus, as he said it was a 
 necessity without which our Government would be subjected to 
 grave inconvenience. 
 
 Had pointed out to me an interesting tree which stands near 
 the railroad track. The trunk of it is white and of huge propor- 
 tions. It is called the "Stephens " tree, because that was the name 
 of the first engineer of the Panama Railway, and the poor fellow 
 died under it of the fever. 
 
 I was told that there was a man buried alongside of the line for 
 every railroad cross- tie that was laid — cheerful ! 
 
 At 4 P.M. called on Admiral John G. Walker, U.S.N. , who lives 
 at the house of Colonel Shaler, superintendent of the railway. 
 Met Admiral Coghlan there. Coghlan says he will give any one 
 five hundred dollars who will tell him where a single one of those 
 hundred thousand Colombian soldiers are who, it is said, are 
 marching on Colon. 
 
 December 14. Called on the American Consul and had break- 
 fast with him, after which he took me for a drive. We went to see 
 the palace built by De Lesseps in hopes that he would have the 
 honor of entertaining the French Empress there when she came 
 for the opening of the canal. It is located on a peninsula and is 
 surrounded by magnificent cocoanut trees, and has a splendid 
 view of the sea. In front of the palace and on the point of the 
 peninsula stands a heroic bronze statue of Columbus on a pedes- 
 tal. He has his arm protectingly around a nude Indian maiden 
 who crouches alongside of him. The young female savage has 
 the pretty face of a French grisette, and also has beautiful wavy, 
 almost curly tresses, and plump fat legs that would not be out of 
 place on the typical Dutch Frau. Columbus has a broad grin on 
 his face, and well he might, for who ever before saw an Indian 
 with wavy hair and fat legs? 
 
 In the afternoon went on board of the Mayflower to call on 
 Admiral Coghlan, and Captain Gleaves who commands the flag- 
 
482 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 
 
 ship. The Mayflower is coaling at the dock and on the other side 
 of the pier is the U.S.S. Dixie with several hundred marines on 
 board. The jibbooms of the ships reach almost to the street on 
 the water front of the town. While Admiral Coghlan and I were 
 walking on the deck we saw some half-dozen little Panama police- 
 men try to arrest a six-foot American marine simply to show their 
 own importance. The marine, who was perfectly sober, did not 
 seem to be disposed to submit to the indignity, and the police 
 attempted to use force. The big marine picked one of the little 
 brown men up and used him as a club knocking down several of 
 the little brown fellows, and Heaven alone knows what damage 
 he would have done had it not been for the timely arrival of a 
 corporal's guard from the Dixie, who took him in tow. 
 
 December 23. Arrived at New York and reported at once to the 
 officials of the bank. A meeting of the board of directors was 
 called and I made my report to them, and on my representation 
 of the situation it was decided at once to establish several branch 
 banks on the Isthmus, which, I am happy to say, proved great 
 successes. After making my report I was allowed to return to 
 Washington and spend Christmas with my family. 
 
 And now I have finished telling the tale of my adventures, 
 some of which I have omitted on account of advancing age 
 and failing memory, and I will only add that of the few 
 honors which have fallen to my lot the one I am most proud 
 of is my Confederate Cross of Honor, which was pinned on 
 my breast by Miss Mary Lee, the only surviving daughter 
 (19 1 6) of the great Confederate General. 
 
 THE END 
 
INDEX 
 
INDEX 
 
 Aborigines, Australian, 448-50. 
 
 Adams, Charles Francis, American 
 Minister to England, 108, ill, 113, 
 114. 
 
 Alabama, the, 126; sinks the Hatteras, 
 127; sunk by the Kearsarge, 187. 
 
 Alar, the, an active tug, 1 13-15. 
 
 Albatross, a captive, 152. 
 
 Amador, Dr., first President of Pan- 
 ama, 476, 479. 
 
 Anderson, Edward M., 127, 199; 
 makes a pillow of Captain Semmes, 
 129. 
 
 Andrews, Eliza Frances, author of 
 "Wartime Journal of a Georgia 
 Girl," 241, 242. 
 
 Arabi Bey, 290, 291. 
 
 Arthur, President Chester A., 423. 
 
 Australia, 431-56; wonderful horse- 
 manship, 435, 436; animals, 445; 
 rabbits, 447, 448; aborigines, 448- 
 50; birds, 450-52. 
 
 Baton Rouge, i, 2, 44; looting of 
 J. M. M.'s home in, 90, 91. 
 
 Bayard, Thomas F., and J. G. Blaine, 
 375-77; Secretary of State, 424; 
 in a temper, 427, 429; consults 
 J. M. M. about Melbourne Fair, 
 
 454, 455- 
 Beaufort, Confederate gunboat, 86, 
 
 87. 
 
 Beecher, Henry Ward, denounces the 
 Alabama, 135. 
 
 Benjamin, Judah P., Confederate 
 Secretary of State, 38, 223, 235, 
 236. 
 
 "Bilged" midshipmen, 29-32. 
 
 Birds, Australian, 450-52. 
 
 "Blackbirders," 442-44. 
 
 Blaine, James G., 373, 441; excori- 
 ates Senators Bayard and Vance, 
 375-77; praised by J. M.M., 426-28. 
 
 Blake, Captain Homer, of the U.S.S. 
 Hatteras, 127. 
 
 Blockade-runners, Confederate, 100, 
 
 lOI. 
 
 Bouligny, Hon. Edouard, oflFers J. 
 M. M. appointment as midshipman, 
 13; a famous duellist, 41. 
 
 Bowen, Sherifif, 351, 353; concerned in 
 murder of Colonel White, 353-59. 
 
 Bowlegs, Billy, Indian chief, 3. 
 
 Bragg, General Braxton, 45, 48. 
 
 Breckinridge, General John C., Con- 
 federate Secretary of War, 235, 
 253- 
 
 Bristed, Charles Astor, ostracized in 
 Charleston, 260, 261. 
 
 Buchanan, President James, and Mrs. 
 Jefferson Davis, 221. 
 
 Burroughs, Miss Gabriella, marries 
 J. M. M., 344. 
 
 Burt, Armisted, befriends President 
 and Mrs. Davis, 235, 236. 
 
 Butler, General B. F., digs the Dutch 
 Gap Canal, 212, 213. 
 
 Butler, General Matthew C, a hand- 
 some man, 362; elected U.S. Sena- 
 tor, 371; conspiracy against, 372, 
 373; admitted to Senate, 374; let- 
 ter from, 378; and Secretary Bay- 
 ard, 427. 
 
 Callahan, Professor James M., South- 
 ern historian, 466, 467. 
 
 Cameron, Don, 374. 
 
 Campbell, Lieutenant W. P. A., 170, 
 188; runs the Lillian into Wilming- 
 ton, 191-95- 
 
 Carpetbaggers, the, corruption of, 
 262, 317, 320, 328, 332, 339-42, 
 348-51, 364. 
 
 Carter, Howell, li, 45. 
 
 Cary, Clarence, 77, 315, 412. 
 
 Cenas, Lieutenant Hilary, 215, 216. 
 
 Chamberlain, Governor Daniel H., 
 
 351. 352, 355. 
 Chapman, Lieutenant R. T., 49, 112, 
 113, 188; leaves the Georgia, 148. 
 
486 
 
 Index 
 
 Charloe, a celebrated jockey, 6-10, 
 
 45. 
 
 Chester, Rear Admiral Colby M., 26. 
 
 Chicora, Confederate ironclad, 90. 
 
 Chief Joseph, of the Nez Perces In- 
 dians, 379-82; 
 
 Chills and fever, 205. 
 
 City Point, attempt to destroy, 218, 
 219. 
 
 Clark, Rear Admiral Charles E., 25, 
 
 Cleveland, Grover, Governor of New 
 York, 422, 423; President, 424, 
 454; appoints J. M. M. Consul Gen- 
 eral to Australia, 424-28. 
 
 Coghlan, Rear Admiral Joseph B., 
 26, 476, 481. 
 
 Confederate Congress, appropriates 
 money for war, 39 ; at variance with 
 Mr. Davis, 224, 225. 
 
 Confederate Navy, 183-86. 
 
 Constitution, frigate ("Old Iron- 
 sides"), fitted out as schoolship, 21; 
 "the Brood of the," 23, 25, 25. 
 
 Constitution, the, captured by the 
 Georgia, 142-45. 
 
 Cook, Rear Admiral Francis A., 25. 
 
 Cooper, Captain Richard, 105, 108. 
 
 Cromwell, William Nelson, 474, 477, 
 480. 
 
 Crowninshield, Rear Admiral A. S., 
 Chief of the Bureau of Navigation, 
 26. 
 
 Davis, Jefferson, 38, 220, 221 ; removes 
 General Johnston, 224; at variance 
 with Confederate Congress, 225; 
 flees from Richmond, 235, 237, 238; 
 writes to J. M. M., 272; memorial 
 window to, 463, 464; statuette of, 
 presented to Confederate Museum, 
 464. 
 
 Davis, Mrs. Jefferson, her social gifts, 
 221; her relations with Mrs. John- 
 ston, 221, 222; leaves Richmond, 
 228; has difficult journey, 228-36; 
 changes in, 463; writes in regard to 
 Prince Polignac, 466, 467. 
 
 Dawson, Captain F. W., 77; in hospi- 
 tal, 226, 227; marries sister of J. M. 
 M., 227; becomes editor of the 
 Charleston News and Courier, 344; 
 hated by negroes, 349; accuses 
 
 Sheriff Bowen of murder, 353 ; gets 
 J. M. M. an office, 425, 426; death 
 of, 459, 460. 
 
 Dewey, Admiral George, 74; enter- 
 tains J. M. M.'s little daughter, 468, 
 469. 
 
 Diaz, General Porfirio, 418, 419. 
 
 Dimick, Colonel Justin, commander 
 at Fortress Monroe, 18, 19. 
 
 Doldrums, the, 124, 155. 
 
 Dosse, the feast of the, 289, 290. 
 
 Drayton Hall, 263. 
 
 Drewry's Bluff, 80-82, 85, 204. 
 
 Drum, Adjutant General R. C, 2, 
 70, 371; thrashes J. M. M., 16, 17. 
 
 Dunmore, Earl of, taken prisoner as 
 "Mr. Murray," 104, 105. 
 
 Egyptian army, 274, 287. 
 
 Ehrman, Henry, 477, 478. 
 
 Eliot, Nancy, 331. 
 
 Eugenie, Empress, guest of the Khe- 
 dive, 277, 281. 
 
 Eunuchs, 274, 284, 285. 
 
 Evans, Lieutenant, of the Georgia, 
 118, 119, 161, 163; succeeds Cap- 
 tain Maury, 169. 
 
 Evans, Rear Admiral Robley D., 25, 
 383; as midshipman, 27, 28. 
 
 Evening Star, loss of the ship, 258. 
 
 Farragut, Admiral David G., 17, 18; 
 victory of, at New Orleans, 73; de- 
 mands surrender of the city, 75. 
 
 Field, Cyrus W., 188, 189. 
 
 Fincke, Miss Frances A., marries 
 J. M. M., 428. 
 
 Florida, Confederate cruiser, seized in 
 Brazilian harbor, 125. 
 
 Forrest, Commodore French, 89. 
 
 Fort Fisher, 194. 
 
 Fort Harrison, 208-10. 
 
 Foute, Rev. Mr., 428, 429. 
 
 Fox terriers, 461, 462. 
 
 Frigate bird, fight with, 141. 
 
 Fry, Lieutenant Joseph, '57. 
 
 Galena, the, testing of, 81, 82. 
 
 Georgia, the. Confederate cruiser, 
 1 14-17; captures and burns the 
 Dictator, 118, 119; captures the 
 George Griswold, 135; captures and 
 
Index 
 
 487 
 
 burns the Good Hope, 136-39; cap- 
 tures and burns the Constitution, 
 142-45; captures and releases the 
 City of Bath, 144; captures the John 
 Watt, 154; captures and burns the 
 Bold Hunter, 156; has narrow es- 
 cape from destruction, 156-58; en- 
 counters French bark La Patrie, 
 160-62; rescues French brig Dili- 
 gente, 162; mutiny on, 163, 164; 
 ordered out of commission, 180, 182; 
 captured by the Niagara, 183; 
 wrecked, 183. 
 
 Gillmore, General Quincy A., suffers 
 for courtesy shown to Mr. Tren- 
 holm, 251, 252. 
 
 Gonzalez, President, 418, 419. 
 
 Good Hope, Cape of, 146, 147, 150. 
 
 Grant, General Ulysses S., 405. 
 
 Gridley, Captain Charles V., 25. 
 
 "Grigson, Mr.," 112. 
 
 Gringo, meaning of the term, 395. 
 
 Hamilton, Duke of, 307-09. 
 
 Hampton, General Wade, 360, 361, 
 364; Governor of South Carolina, 
 370; Senator, 376, 377- 
 
 Hancock, General Winfield Scott, 265, 
 421. 
 
 Harems, 283-86. 
 
 Harrison, President Benjamin, 458. 
 
 Harrison, Colonel Burton N., secre- 
 tary to Mr. Davis, 229-32, 463. 
 
 Heriat, Mr., editor of the New Or- 
 leans Bee, 41. 
 
 Heth, Major General Harry, favorite 
 of General Lee, 469. 
 
 Hicky, Colonel Philip, II ; hospitality 
 of, II, 12. 
 
 Hollins, Commodore George N., seizes 
 the Manassas, 55; denounced, 58; 
 reprimands J. M. M., 66, 67; at New 
 Orleans, 70, 7 1 ; relieved from com- 
 mand, 72, 73; last days of, 74. 
 
 Hollins, George, son of Commodore, 
 
 91-93. 
 
 Home Guard, the, at New Orleans, 77. 
 
 Hood, General John B., succeeds 
 General Johnston, 224. 
 
 Hope Estate Plantation, sugar-mak- 
 ing at, 12; J.M.M. tries cotton 
 planting on, 259. 
 
 Horsemanship, Australian, 435-37. 
 Hospitality, Southern, 11, 12. 
 Howell, Jefferson Davis, 220, 464. 
 Huger, Captain Thomas B., 52, 54; 
 
 wounded, 73. 
 Hunt, General Henry J., controls 
 
 negro mob, 350, 351. 
 Hygera, "the strangler tree," 403. 
 
 Indians, in Louisiana, 3. 
 
 Ingraham, Commodore Duncan N., 
 89, 90. 
 
 Island Number 10, fortified by Con- 
 federates, 61; bombarded, 62; fall 
 of, 69. 
 
 Ismail Pasha, Khedive of Egypt, 
 wants American officers for his army, 
 266; J. M. M. presented to, 271; an 
 admirer of European women, 275- 
 77; power of, 281-83. 
 
 Jackson, "Stonewall," 86, 144. 
 
 Johnson, Andrew, 36, 37. 
 
 Johnston, General Joseph E., 224. 
 
 Johnston, Mrs. Joseph E., 221. 
 
 Jouett, Rear Admiral James E., 469, 
 470. 
 
 Junket, to investigate Nez Perces In- 
 dians, 379. 
 
 Kangaroo hunting, 445-47. 
 
 Katish, old black nurse, i, 5, 6, 7. 
 
 Kearsarge, U.S. sloop-of-war, sinks 
 the Alabama, 187. 
 
 Kell, Commander, of the Alabama, 
 187-90. 
 
 Kennon, Commander Beverly, 207, 
 208. 
 
 King, Mrs. Henry, conceals Mr. Tren- 
 holm's gold, 247-49; marries Con- 
 gressman Bowen, 353. 
 
 La None, Charles, brother-in-law of 
 
 J. M. M.. 4, 5. 
 Laughing jackass, the, 451. 
 Learned, Lyman, 395, 396. 
 Leary, Captain Richard P., 26. 
 Lee, Miss Mary, 482. 
 Lee, General Robert E., at Fort 
 
 Harrison, 210, 211,217; letter of, 
 
 273- 
 Le Mat, Colonel, 94, 95. 
 
488 
 
 Index 
 
 Lillian, southern blockade-runner, 
 190-96. 
 
 Lincoln, Abraham, issues amnesty 
 proclamation, 242. 
 
 Livingston, the, a "wonderful con- 
 traption," 61. 
 
 Loch, Sir Henry, Governor of Victoria, 
 
 433. 435. 437, 453- 
 Lockwood, General Henry H., 32, 
 Loring, General W. W., in the Khe- 
 dive's service, 277, 287, 290, 291, 
 296; J. M. M. indignant with, 298, 
 299 ; leads expedition against Abys- 
 sinians, 305, 306. 
 Louisiana, the, 72. 
 
 MacalHster, Charles, Jr., owner of 
 the Scud, 264, 265. 
 
 Macbeth, Lieutenant, helps J.M. M. 
 bury Trenholm silver, 240, 
 
 Mallory, Stephen R., Confederate 
 Secretary of the Navy, 96, 228. 
 
 Manassas, the, capture of, 55; rams 
 the Richmond, 56, 57. 
 
 Marriage, in Egypt, 281, 282; in 
 Mexico, 396. 
 
 Martin, Daniel, captain of the Lillian, 
 190-96. 
 
 Maury, Commodore Matthew Fon- 
 taine, 96; a scientific navigator, 100; 
 deeply religious, loi; a great scien- 
 tist, 102, 103, 107; outwits the Brit- 
 ish Government, 114. 
 
 Maury, Commander William L., 112, 
 113, 115; commands the Georgia, 
 116-69; ill, 163; relieved of com- 
 mand, 169. 
 
 Maximilian, Emperor of Mexico, 399, 
 400. 
 
 Maynadier, Captain Henry, 35. 
 
 McClellan, General George B., 264. 
 
 McDow, Dr., concerned in death of 
 F. W. Dawson, 459, 460. 
 
 McHattan-Ripley, Mrs., "From Flag 
 to Flag " quoted, 90, 91. 
 
 McRae, Confederate sloop-of-war, 51- 
 56; made flagship of Commodore 
 Hollins, 60, 61 ; at New Madrid, 62, 
 63, 65, 66, 69; in battle with Farra- 
 gut, 73; sinks, 74. 
 
 Melbourne, 432; World's Fair at, 
 454-56. 
 
 Melton, Judge, 332, 333; controversy 
 with Colonel Montgomery, 333-39. 
 
 Merrimac, the, 78. 
 
 Metcalf, Dr. John T., 257, 258, 
 
 Mirage, at night, 1 58, 159. 
 
 "Monday," a negro preacher, 323-25. 
 
 Moors, adventure with, 174-77. 
 
 Morgan, Colonel A. S. M., cousin of 
 J. M. M., 83. 
 
 Morgan, Bedford, uncle of J. M. M., 3. 
 
 Morgan, Colonel George, great-grand- 
 lather of J. M. M., 67; J. M. M., 
 reads from diary of, 470, 471. 
 
 Morgan, Captain George, brother of 
 J. M. M., 41, 51; injured at battle 
 of Seven Pines, 83; death of, 165. 
 
 Morgan, Gibbes, brother of J. M. M., 
 marries Lydia Carter, 1 1 ; Lieuten- 
 ant in Confederate Army, 41, 51; 
 Captain, 84, 86, 87, 88; death of, 
 165, 166. 
 
 Morgan, H. Gibbes, cousin of J.M.M., 
 256. 
 
 Morgan, Harry, brother of J. M. M., 
 41 ; killed in duel with James Sparks, 
 
 42, 43- 
 Morgan, James Morris, birth, i ; child- 
 hood, i-io; fond of horses, 2, 8-10; 
 witnesses destruction of steamboat 
 Princess, 3-5; attends school when 
 convenient, 8; first love, ii;goesto 
 school in earnest, 14-16; at Fortress 
 Monroe, 16-20; goes to Annapolis, 
 21; learns obedience, 22; some em- 
 bryo heroes among his fellow mid- 
 shipmen, 25, 26; first experience on 
 skates, 28, 29; resigns when Fort 
 Sumter is fired on, 33; dubbed 
 "Little" Morgan, 34; meets An- 
 drew Johnson, 36, 37; death of his 
 brother Harry, 41-43; sent on im- 
 portant mission to General Bragg, 
 45-48; assigned to the McRae, 52; 
 mastheaded, 54; death of his father, 
 59; aide-de-camp to Commodore 
 Hollins, 61 ; sent to burn New Mad- 
 rid, 67, 68; in the river fight at New 
 Orleans, 71-74; goes to Norfolk and 
 Richmond, 76-79; ordered to the 
 naval battery at Drewry's Bluff, 
 80; on the gunboat Beaufort, 86-88; 
 assigned to the Chicora at Charles- 
 
Index 
 
 489 
 
 ton, 89, 90; invited to stay at Mr. 
 Trenholm's house, 93. 
 
 Ordered to report to Commodore 
 M. F. Maury, 97; runs the blockade 
 out of Charleston Harbor, 98; in 
 Bermuda and Halifax, 101-04; 
 reaches England, 106; aboard the 
 Georgia, 114; tries unsuccessfully 
 to set fire to a prize, 119; at Bahia, 
 125-32; at Trinidad, 140, 141; 
 grows rapidly, 145, 201; in Cape 
 Town, 148-50; "a hero," 151, 152; 
 has a narrow escape, 156-58; quells 
 a mutiny, 163, 164; in Cherbourg, 
 165-72 ; death of his brothers George 
 and Gibbes, 165; letter to his moth- 
 er, 166-69; in a storm off Cape 
 Trafalgar, 172; off the coast of 
 Morocco, 173-79; honored in Liver- 
 pool, 181, 182; joins a blockade- 
 running party, 188; gets into Wil- 
 mington on the Lillian, 190-95; re- 
 turns to Charleston, 198; engaged 
 to Miss Trenholm, 202; on school- 
 ship Patrick Henry, 204-11; be- 
 comes a passed midshipman, 212; 
 at Battery Semmes, 212-19; rela- 
 tions with Mr. and Mrs. Jefferson 
 Davis, 220-22; reduced to a Fal- 
 stafiian costume, 223; accompanies 
 Mrs. Davis from Richmond, 228- 
 37; in Abbeville, 239-43; accom- 
 panies Mr. Trenholm when arrested, 
 
 245-51- 
 
 Married, 255; studies law, 256, 
 259; death of his wife, 257; has yel- 
 low fever, 257, 258; tries cotton- 
 planting, 259; raises potatoes, 262; 
 captain in Egyptian army, 266; 
 presented to the Khedive, 271; on 
 the Khedive's personal staff, 274; 
 obtains Napoleon, "the bounding 
 horse," 277, 288, 289; dangerous 
 gallantry, 279-81; sent to Rosetta, 
 291; adventure with lepers, 294; 
 collects back pay, 297, 298; has a 
 mortifying experience, 298, 299; re- 
 lations with Ratib Pasha, 302-05; 
 goes to France, 310; shipwrecked, 
 31 1 ; spends a gloomy week in Paris, 
 312-14. 
 
 Returns to America, 315; experi- 
 
 ences with carpetbaggers and ig- 
 norant negroes, 317-31; wounded 
 in a political feud, 333-39; swin- 
 dled by a carpetbagger, 340, 341; 
 outrageously taxed, 342, 343; mar- 
 ries Miss Gabriella Burroughs, 344; 
 sells his plantation, 346, 347; aids 
 Captain Dawson in Bowen trial, 
 356-58; in the political campaign of 
 1875, 360-69; financially ruined, 
 371; helps Senator Butler thwart a 
 conspiracy, 372, 373; accompanies 
 junket to Chief Joseph's camp, 379- 
 82; goes to Mexico with Governor 
 Shepherd, 383-94; returns home, 
 39S» 396; goes back to Mexico with 
 an engineering party, 398; on a sur- 
 veying expedition, 401-04; investi- 
 gates a silver mine, 405, 406; hunts 
 for an asphalt lake, 408, 410-12; 
 interests New Yorkers in it, 412, 
 413; witnesses a strange festival, 
 414, 415; receives a proposal of 
 marriage, 416; with General Stone 
 at Bedloe's Island, 420-23. 
 
 Consul-general to Australasia, 
 423-58; marries Miss Frances A. 
 Fincke, 428; consular duties, 438; 
 an experience with an Australian 
 court, 439-41; connection with 
 Melbourne World's Fair, 454-56; 
 birth of his daughter Frederica, 
 459; settles on a Maryland farm, 
 459; renews close relations with Mrs. 
 Jefferson Davis, 463; moves to 
 Washington, 468; goes to Panama, 
 474-82. 
 
 Morgan, Dr. John, great-uncle of 
 J. M. M., 267. 
 
 Morgan, Judge Philip Hicky, brother 
 of J. M. M., 14, 16, 46-49, 253, 256; 
 placarded as traitor, 42 ; Minister to 
 Mexico, 383, 398, 405. 
 
 Morgan, Sarah, married to Captain F. 
 W. Dawson, 227; publishes journal, 
 
 344- 
 Morgan, Judge Thomas Gibbes, father 
 
 of J. M. M., i; letter to eldest son, 
 
 52; death of, 59; destruction of his 
 
 home, 90, 91. 
 Moses, Franklin J., Governor of South 
 
 Carolina, 317-20, 329. 
 
490 
 
 Index 
 
 Moses, Judge, uncle of the Governor, 
 
 332. 
 Mott, Major-General Thaddeus P., 
 
 308, 309. 
 Mules in Mexico, 385, 389. 
 
 Nagle, Dr., carpetbag comptroller, 
 328, 343. 346. 
 
 Napoleon, "the bounding horse," 277- 
 80, 288, 289, 293. 
 
 "Nat," Mrs. W. L. Trenholm's but- 
 ler, 240, 241. 
 
 New Madrid, 62, 63; destruction of, 
 67, 68. 
 
 Niagara, U.S. sloop-of-war, 130; cap- 
 tures the Georgia, 183. 
 
 Panama, Republic of, 474. 
 
 Paris, in spring of 1871, 312, 313. 
 
 Parker, Lieutenant William H., super- 
 intendent of the Patrick Henry, 205 ; 
 protects Confederate treasure, 233; 
 cares for Mrs. Davis and family, 
 234-36. 
 
 Patrick Henry, Confederate school- 
 ship, 204-11; menu on, 205; recita- 
 tion rooms, 205; served as a receiv- 
 ing ship, 206; blown up, 233. 
 
 " Peace-at-any-price," 472, 473. 
 
 Peccaries, 402, 403. 
 
 Pipkin, William, "Bill Pip," 24, 25; 
 rose to rank of colonel, 25. 
 
 Polignac, Prince, claims to have been 
 sent on mission by President Davis, 
 465, 466. 
 
 Pope, General John, at New Madrid, 
 63, 69, 70. 
 
 Porter, Rev. A. Toomer, 255. 
 
 Princess, the, destruction of, 3-5. 
 
 Prioleau, Mr., Liverpool partner of 
 Mr. Trenholm, 106, 109, no, 170. 
 
 Privateers, 184. 
 
 Pulque, Mexican, 19, 20. 
 
 Rabbits, ravages of, in Australia, 447, 
 
 448. 
 Rappahannock, Confederate cruiser, 
 
 169, 170. 
 Ratib Pasha, Lieutenant-General, 
 
 287, 288, 301-07. 
 Read, "Savez," 61, 64, 69, 73, 218, 
 
 219. 
 
 Reconstruction period in South Caro- 
 
 Hna, 317-78. 
 Religious mania in school, 14-16. 
 Rifle clubs in South Carolina, 350, 360, 
 
 362, 374. 
 Rodgers, Rear Admiral C. R. P., 
 
 23. 
 Rodgers, Captain George W., 26-28, 
 
 33- 
 Rodgers, Commander John, U.S.N. 
 
 tests the Galena, 81, 82. 
 Roosevelt, Theodore, 477, 480. 
 
 Samoans, as swimmers, 457, 458. 
 Saurez, Mr., a generous Jew, 311-14. 
 "Scalawags," 348. 
 Scott, Lieutenant Robert Wainwright, 
 
 21, 24. 
 Semmes, Captain Raphael, 126-31. 
 Semmes Battery, 212, 228. 
 Seven Pines, battle of, 83. 
 Seventh-Day Adventists, 429, 430. 
 Sharks, 457, 480. 
 Shepherd, Governor Alexander R., 
 
 mining enterprise of, in Mexico, 
 
 383-94. 
 Sherman, General W. T., visits Egypt, 
 
 266. 
 Sickles, General Daniel E., 257. 
 Sigsbee, Rear Admiral Charles Dwight, 
 
 26. 
 Smith, F. Hopkinson, quarrels with 
 
 General C. P. Stone, 422. 
 Soule, Pierre, controls mob at New 
 
 Orleans, 75, 76; U.S. Minister to 
 
 Spain, 223. 
 Sparks, James, kills Harry Morgan in 
 
 duel, 43. 
 Stage-coach traveling in Mexico, 398, 
 
 399. 
 
 Stephens, Hon. Alexander H., 203. 
 
 Stone, General Charles P., 269; chief- 
 of-staff of Khedive of Egypt, 287, 
 290, 296, 302 ; a born manipulator of 
 men, 299, 300; erects statue of Lib- 
 erty on Bedloe's Island, 419, 420; 
 has trouble with F. Hopkinson 
 Smith, 42,2. 
 
 Sugar-making, 12. 
 
 Taylor, Rear Admiral Henry C, 25. 
 Taylor, General Zachary, 2. 
 
Index 
 
 491 
 
 Tenerlffe, Peak of, 159. 
 
 Thackeray, W. M., anecdote of, 
 248. 
 
 Thompson, Hon. Jacob, Secretary of 
 the Interior in Buchanan's Cabinet, 
 18, 19. 
 
 Thompson, General JeflF, "the swamp 
 fox of Missouri," 62, 63. 
 
 Thompson, Sam, negro trial justice, 
 321, 326, 327. 
 
 Tom Benton, the, 66. 
 
 Trenholm, Frank, brother-in-law of 
 J. M. M., 259, 260. 
 
 Trenholm, George A., 198; and An- 
 drew Johnson, 37; befriends George 
 Hollins, 92, 93; helps J. M. M. , 93- 
 97, 103, 106, 107, no; owned many 
 blockade runners, 98, 200, 222; Sec- 
 retary of Confederate Treasury, 
 199, 201, 202, 222, 223; resigns, 225; 
 buys home in Columbia, 244; ar- 
 rested, 245-52; pardoned, 255; re- 
 covers his home, 257. 
 
 Trenholm, Mrs. George A., 95, 203. 
 
 Trenholm, Miss Helen, 94, 96, 200, 
 202, 255. 
 
 Trenholm, Colonel William L., son of 
 George A., 96, 200, 201. 
 
 Trinidad, island^of, 140, 141. 
 
 Tupper, Captain George, in shooting 
 
 affray, 334-39; elected Mayor of 
 Summerville, 339. 
 
 Upshur, Admiral John H., 24, 25, 30, 
 31- 
 
 Vance, Zebulon B., 375, 376. 
 Vanilla, 412, 413. 
 
 Volunteers, Louisiana, at the begin- 
 ning of the Civil War, 44. 
 
 Wachusett, U.S.S., disregards Brazil- 
 ian neutrality, 125. 
 
 Wagner, Theodore, 199, 244, 245. 
 
 Wallace, General William H., 365-69. 
 
 Warley, Lieutenant A. F., 91, 93. 
 
 Waterspouts, 124. 
 
 Wedding, an expensive luxury in 
 Mexico, 396. 
 
 Weil, Mr., shelters Mrs. Jefferson 
 Davis, 231. 
 
 White, Chief Justice Edward D., 256. 
 
 White, Colonel, murder of, 353-59. 
 
 Wigfall, Senator Louis T., 35-37; 
 enemy of Mr. Davis, 235. 
 
 Wild horses, chasing, 8-10. 
 
 Wildes, Rear Admiral Frank, 26. 
 
 Worthington, General, carpetbagger, 
 330. 
 
 Wright, Edward Markoe, 315. 
 
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 U . S . A 
 
 3II.77-I 
 
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