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CHAPTER XI.

Scenes on board an American steamer—The "Merrimac"—Irish
sailors in America—Norfolk—A telegram on Sunday; news
from the seat of war—American "chaff" and our Jack Tars.

Sunday, April 14.—A night of disturbed sleep, owing to
the ponderous thumping of the walking beam close to my
head, the whizzing of steam, and the roaring of the steam-trumpet
to warn vessels out of the way—mosquitoes, too,
had a good deal to say to me in spite of my dirty gauze
curtains. Soon after dawn the vessel ran alongside the jetty
at Fortress Monroe, and I saw indistinctly the waterface
of the work which is in some danger of being attacked, it is
said, by the Virginians. There was no flag on the staff
above the walls, and the place looked dreary and desolate.
It has a fine bastioned profile, with moat and armed lunettes
—the casemates were bricked up or occupied by glass
windows, and all the guns I could make out were on the
parapets. A few soldiers were lounging on the jetty, and
after we had discharged a tipsy old officer, a few negroes,
and some parcels, the steam-pipe brayed—it does not whistle
—again, and we proceeded across the mouth of the
channel and James River towards Elizabeth River, on which
stand Portsmouth and Gosport.

Just as I was dressing, the door opened, and a tall, neatly
dressed negress came in and asked me for my ticket. She
told me she was ticket-collector for the boat, and that she was
a slave. The latter intelligence was given without any reluctance
or hesitation. On my way to the upper deck I observed
the bar was crowded by gentlemen engaged in consuming,
or waiting for, cocktails or mint-juleps. The latter,
however, could not be had just now in such perfection as
usual, owing to the inferior condition of the mint. In the
matter of drinks, how hospitable the Americans are! I was
asked to take as many as would have rendered me incapable
of drinking again; my excuse on the plea of inability to


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grapple with cocktails and the like before breakfast, was
heard with surprise, and I was urgently entreated to abandon
so bad a habit.

A clear, fine sun rose from the waters of the bay up into
the purest of pure blue skies. On our right lay a low coast
fringed with trees, and wooded densely with stunted forest,
through which creeks could be seen glinting far through the
foliage. Anxious looking little wooden lighthouses, hard set
to preserve their equilibrium in the muddy waters, and bent
at various angles, marked the narrow channels to the towns
and hamlets on the banks, the principal trade and occupation
of which are oyster selling and oyster eating. We are
sailing over wondrous deposits and submarine crops of the
much-loved bivalve. Wooden houses painted white appear
on the shores, and one large building with wings and a central
portico surmounted by a belvedere, destined for the
reception of the United States sailors in sickness, is a striking
object in the landscape.

The steamer in a few minutes came along-side a dirty,
broken-down, wooden quay, lined with open booths, on which
a small crowd, mostly of negroes, had gathered. Behind the
shed there rose tiled and shingled roofs of mean dingy houses,
and we could catch glimpses of the line of poor streets, narrow,
crooked, ill-paved, surmounted by a few church-steeples,
and the large sprawling advertisement-boards of the tobacco stores
and oyster-sellers, which was all we could see of Portsmouth
or Gosport. Our vessel was in a narrow creek; at
one side was the town—in the centre of the stream the old
"Pennsylvania," intended to be of 120 guns, but never commissioned,
and used as receiving ship, was anchored—alongside
the wall of the Navy Yard below us, lay the "Merrimac,"
apparently in ordinary. The only man-of-war fit for
sea was a curiosity—a stumpy bluff-bowed, Dutch-built looking
sloop, called the "Cumberland." Two or three smaller
vessels, dismasted, were below the "Merrimac," and we could
just see the building-sheds in which were one or two others,
I believe, on the stocks. A fleet of oyster-boats anchored, or
in sailless observance of the Sunday, dotted the waters.
There was an ancient and fishlike smell about the town worthy
of its appearance and of its functions as a seaport. As the
vessel came close along-side, there was the usual greeting between
friends, and many a cry, "Well, you've heard the news?
The Yankees out of Sumter! Isn't it fine!" There were


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few who did not participate in that sentiment, but there were
some who looked black as night and said nothing.

Whilst we were waiting for the steam ferry-boat, which
plies to Norfolk at the other side of the creek, to take us over,
a man-of-war boat pulled along-side, and the coxswain, a handsome,
fine-looking sailor, came on deck, and, as I happened to
be next him, asked me if Captain Blank had come down with
us? I replied, that I did not know, but that the captain
could tell him no doubt. "He?" said the sailor, pointing
with great disgust to the skipper of the steamer. "Why he
knows nothin' of his passengers, except how many dollars
they come to," and started off to prosecute his inquiries among
the other passengers. The boat along-side was clean, and
was manned by six as stout fellows as ever handled an oar.
Two I made sure of were Englishmen, and when the coxswain
was retiring from his fruitless search, I asked him
where he hailed from. "The Cove of Cork. I was in the
navy nine years, but when I got on the West Ingy Station, I
heerd how Uncle Sam treated his fellows, and so I joined
him." "Cut and run, I suppose?" "Well, not exactly. I
got away, sir. Emigrated, you know!" "Are there any other
Irishmen or Englishmen on board?" "I should think there
was. That man in the bow there is a mate of mine, from the
sweet Cove of Cork; Driscoll by name, and there's a Belfast
man pulls number two; and the stroke, and the chap that
pulls next to him is Englishmen, and fine sailors they
are, Bates and Rookey. They were in men-of-war too."
"What! five out of seven, British subjects!" "Oh, ay,
that is—we onst was—most of us now are 'Mericans, I
think. There's plenty more of us aboard the ship."

The steam ferry was a rickety affair, and combined with
the tumble-down sheds and quays to give a poor idea of
Norfolk. The infliction of tobacco-juice on board was remarkable.
Although it was but seven o'clock every one had
his quid in working order, and the air was filled with yellowish-brown
rainbows and liquid parabolas, which tumbled in
spray or in little flocks of the weed on the foul decks. As it
was Sunday, some of the numerous flagstaffs which adorn the
houses in both cities displayed the United States bunting;
but nothing could relieve the decayed air of Norfolk. The
omnibus which was waiting to receive us must have been the
earliest specimen of carriage building in that style on the
continent; and as it lunged and flopped over the prodigious


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bad pavement, the severe nature of which was aggravated by
a street railway, it opened the seams as if it were going to
fall into firewood. The shops were all closed, of course; but
the houses, wooden and brick, were covered with signs and
placards indicative of large trade in tobacco and oysters.

Poor G. P. R. James, who spent many years here, could
have scarce caught a novel from such a place, spite of great
oysters, famous wild fowl, and the lauded poultry and vegetables
which are produced in the surrounding districts. There
is not a hill for the traveller to ascend towards the close of a
summer's day, nor a moated castle for a thousand miles around.
An execrable, tooth-cracking drive ended at last in front of the
Atlantic Hotel, where I was doomed to take up my quarters.
It is a dilapidated, uncleanly place, with tobacco-stained floor,
full of flies and strong odors. The waiters were all slaves:
untidy, slipshod, and careless creatures. I was shut up in a
small room, with the usual notice on the door, that the proprietor
would not be responsible for anything, and that you were
to lock your doors for fear of robbers, and that you must take
your meals at certain hours, and other matters of the kind.
My umbra went over to Gosport to take some sketches, he
said; and after a poor meal, in a long room filled with "citizens,"
all of them discussing Sumter, I went out into the
street.

The people, I observe, are of a new and marked type,—
very tall, loosely yet powerfully made, with dark complexions,
strongly-marked features, prominent noses, large angular
mouths in square jaws, deep-seated bright eyes, low, narrow
foreheads,—and are all of them much given to ruminate
tobacco. The bells of the churches were tolling, and I turned
into one; but the heat, great enough outside, soon became
nearly intolerable; nor was it rendered more bearable by my
proximity to some blacks, who were, I presume, servants or
slaves of the great people in the forward pews. The clergyman
or minister had got to the Psalms, when a bustle arose
near the door which attracted his attention, and caused all to
turn round. Several persons were standing up and whispering,
whilst others were stealing on tiptoe out of the church. The
influence extended itself gradually and all the men near the
door were leaving rapidly. The minister, obviously interested,
continued to read, raising his eyes towards the door. At last
the persons near him rose up and walked boldly forth, and I
at length followed the example, and getting into the street,


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saw men running towards the hotel. "What is it?" exclaimed
I to one. "Come along, the telegraph's in at the 'Day Book.'
The Yankees are whipped!" and so continued. I came at
last to a crowd of men, struggling, with their faces toward the
wall of a shabby house, increased by fresh arrivals, and diminished
by those who, having satisfied their curiosity, came
elbowing forth in a state of much excitement, exultation, and
perspiration. "It's all right enough!" "Didn't I tell you
so?" "Bully for Beauregard and the Palmetto State!" I
shoved on, and read at last the programme of the cannonade
and bombardment, and of the effects upon the fort, on a dirty
piece of yellowish paper on the wall. It was a terrible writing.
At all the street corners men were discussing the news with
every symptom of joy and gratification. Now I confess I
could not share in the excitement at all. The act seemed to
me the prelude to certain war.

I walked up the main street, and turned up some of the alleys
to have a look at the town, coming out on patches of water
and bridges over the creeks, or sandy lanes shaded by trees,
and lined here and there by pretty wooden villas, painted in
bright colors. Everywhere negroes, male and female, gaudily
dressed or in rags; the door-steps of the narrow lanes swarming
with infant niggerdom—big-stomached, curve-legged,
rugged-headed, and happy—tumbling about dim-eyed toothless
hags, or thick-lipped mothers. Not a word were they
talking about Sumter. "Any news to-day?" said I to a respectable-looking
negro in a blue coat and brass buttons,
wonderful hat, and vest of amber silk, check trousers, and
very broken-down shoes. "Well, sare, I tink nothin' much
occur. Der hem a fire at Squire Nichol's house last night;
leastway so I hear, sare." Squire, let me say parenthetically,
is used to designate justices of the peace. Was it a very
stupid poco-curante, or a very cunning, subtle Sambo?

In my walk I arrived at a small pier, covered with oyster
shells, which projected into the sea. Around it, on both sides,
were hosts of schooners and pungys, smaller half-decked boats,
waiting for their load of the much-loved fish for Washington,
Baltimore, and Richmond. Some brigs and large vessels lay
along-side the wharves and large warehouses higher up the
creek. Observing a small group at the end of the pier, I
walked on, and found that they consisted of fifteen or twenty
well-dressed mechanical kind of men, busily engaged in "chaffing,"
as Cockneys would call it, the crew of the man-of-war


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boat I had seen in the morning. The sailors were stretched
on the thwarts, some rather amused, others sullen at the ordeal.
"You better just pull down that cussed old rag of
yours, and bring your old ship over to the Southern Confederacy.
I guess we can take your 'Cumberland' whenever
we like! Why don't you go, and touch off your guns at
Charleston?" Presently the coxswain came down with a
parcel under his arm, and stepped into the boat. "Give way,
my lads;" and the oars dipped in the water. When the boat
had gone a few yards from the shore, the crowd cried out:
"Down with the Yankees! Hurrah for the Southern Confederacy!"
and some among them threw oyster shells at the
boat, one of which struck the coxswain on the head. "Back
water! Back water all. Hard!" he shouted; and as the
boat's stern neared the land, he stood up and made a leap in
among the crowd like a tiger. "You cowardly d—d set.
Who threw the shells?" No one answered at first, but a
little wizened man at last squeaked out: "I guess you'll have
shells of another kind if you remain here much longer." The
sailor howled with rage: "Why, you poor devils, I'd whip
any half-dozen of you,—teeth, knives, and all—in five minutes;
and my boys there in the boat would clear your whole
town. What do you mean by barking at the Stars and
Stripes? Do you see that ship?" he shouted, pointing towards
the "Cumberland." "Why the lads aboard of her
would knock every darned seceder in your State into a
cocked hat in a brace of shakes! And now who's coming
on?" The invitation was not accepted, and the sailor withdrew,
with his angry eyes fixed on the people, who gave him
a kind of groan; but there were no oyster shells this time.
"In spite of his blowing, I tell yer," said one of them, "there's
some good men from old Virginny abo'rd o' that ship that will
never fire a shot agin us." "Oh, we'll fix her right enough,"
remarked another, "when the time comes." I returned to
my room, sat down, and wrote for some hours. The dinner
in the Atlantic Hotel was of a description to make one wish
the desire for food had never been invented. My neighbor
said he was not "quite content about this Sumter business.
There's nary one killed nor wownded."

Sunday is a very dull day in Norfolk,—no mails, no post,
no steamers; and, at the best, Norfolk must be dull exceedingly.
The superintendent of the Seaboard and Roanoke Railway,
having heard that I was about proceeding to Charleston,


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called upon me to offer every facility in his power. Sent
Moses with letters to post-office. At night the mosquitoes
were very aggressive and successful. This is the first place
in which the bedrooms are unprovided with gas. A mutton
dip almost made me regret the fact.