Confederate naval hero thrilled the Cape

The American Civil War was a brutal four-year struggle which brought slavery to an end when Abraham Lincoln’s northern forces defeated the slave-owning southern Confederate states in 1865.

Earlier in the war, the Confederates had waged a successful naval campaign to capture or sink enemy merchant vessels, losses which hurt the northerners financially.

One of the most famous Confederate naval commanders was Captain Raphael Semmes (1809-1877) of the Alabama, who seized the Yankee barque Sea Bride in international waters in Table Bay in full view of the local population in August 1863.

Capetonians knew all about the Alabama and were expecting her arrival, but they had no idea that she would capture a hapless northern prize right on their doorstep.

The victim mistook the approaching raider for the English mail steamer. She crammed on every stitch of canvas when she realised her error, but it was too late to outwit a master mariner like Semmes.

The Sea Bride was sent back to sea under Confederate officers and Semmes dropped anchor in Table Bay at about 4pm. There were no harbour facilities in those days, but excavations were in progress for what was to become the Alfred Dock.

The wooden jetties and every prominent point along the beach were crowded with eager spectators and in a very short time hundreds of small boats put off loaded with visitors. All who went alongside were politely received on deck and invited to inspect all parts of the relatively new British-built warship.

For three hours, even after dark, the crowd on board was as dense as any the reporter from the SA Advertiser and Mail had seen.

“All classes, of both sexes, kept pouring into the vessel, but the courtesy of the Alabama’s officers was such that all felt at home.

“Some found their way among the prisoners (the crews of captured vessels); others gathered around the unlucky captain and supercargo of the Sea Bride, and others again penetrated into the small cabin where Captain Semmes was quietly receiving all who sought the honour of shaking hands and conversing with him.

“Both the gallant captain and all of his officers spoke frankly and modestly of the services the Alabama had rendered to the Confederates, and the curiosity of those who sought particulars of all the captures was gratified to the fullest extent.”

The next day the excitement was even greater and a holiday spirit prevailed. The Table Bay boatmen (mostly people of colour) reaped handsome rewards and had never been so busy.

“The Alabama took in and discharged a living freight at the rate of about 60 in the minute, from 8 o’clock in the morning till 4 or 5 in the afternoon, by which time pretty nearly the whole population of Cape Town had been on board.”

The great centre of attraction was Captain Semmes.

“Where is he? Might we just have a look at him? Do let us (go) down. Do make a little room,” begged ladies and gentlemen all day long at the head of the companion ladder leading down to his cabin.

“Just have a little patience,” begged the polite officers in turn, “the cabin is full to overflowing at present; take a look around the ship in the meantime.”

The captain’s cabin in the stern of the ship was shaped like a half moon. A horsehair sofa surrounded a little horse-shoe table in the centre and there were two or three other chairs. A small sideboard opened into the steward’s pantry.

The reporter noticed between 50 and 60 chronometers on display which had been taken from the ships captured and destroyed by the Alabama, and the cabin was strewn with a profusion of charts. The captain’s tiny sleeping apartment contained a narrow bunk with drawers beneath and there was little space for his strong box, chair and washstand.

“Take a seat, if you can find one,” said the captain, good humouredly apologising for the scanty accommodation, “ours is a working, fighting ship, and we have not much room to spare for ease or pleasure.”

He spoke feelingly and gratefully of the sympathy shown toward him and his cause in every British port he had entered. He was more puzzled than flattered by the reception he had met with at the Cape, which was more enthusiastic than any he had had before.

“Do you know,” said he, pointing to the bouquets of flowers and other little tokens left or sent on board, “that my own countrymen and women would not have done as much for me or anyone else? They are not fond of hero worship… I don’t believe there is a man or woman in the States who would care that (snapping his fingers) for my autograph.”

More next week.