Semmes mounted a gun carriage as his clerk solemnly read the commission and orders from the secretary of the navy. At a wave of his hand, the British flag dropped and the Confederate banner appeared at the peak. The commissioning pennant of a man-of-war streamed from the main royal masthead; a gun roared out in salute. The air was rent by cheers from officers and men as the band played “Dixie,” “that soul-stirring national anthem of the new-born government.”8
They would be fighting, Semmes told them, “the battles of the oppressed against the oppressor, and this consideration alone should be enough to nerve the arm of every generous sailor.” However, he would not expect foreign sailors to understand the rights or wrongs of nations, and so he explained the individual advantages: adventure, new ports, and money. “Like a skillful Secretary of the Treasury, I put the budget to them in the very best aspect.” Payment in gold, double ordinary wages, and prize money would be theirs. Semmes recruited eighty of ninety men from the two ships and felt very much relieved.9
Captain Waddell hoped to repeat this performance but didn’t carry it off, for the Alabama had looked like a man-of-war, built and configured specifically as a cruiser. Semmes had his guns mounted, provisions stowed, and ship in order. His decks had not presented the discouraging and chaotic appearance of Shenandoah. Midshipman Mason was conscious of these precedents, having brought with him a copy of Semmes’s first memoir, The Cruise of the Alabama and the Sumter, published in London a few months earlier. Alabama’s captain would become an admiral and leading naval hero of the Confederacy, and Mason would quickly conclude that Waddell was not cut from the same cloth.
Commander James Bulloch, Confederate naval agent in England, had supervised the design and building of Alabama and sent her to sea. He purchased and fitted out Sea King and Laurel and did everything possible to provide a full complement of men. As explained in his instructions to Waddell, Bulloch engaged an unusually large crew for Laurel including only young and, as far as possible, unmarried men “whose spirit of adventure and lack of home cares would, it was thought, naturally incline them to a roving cruise.” He authorized an enlistment bounty and wages above normal rates, promising that the navy department would supply whatever Waddell chose to expend. “As seamen, so far as our service is concerned, are merchantable articles with a market value, you must either pay the price demanded or dispense with their services, which would cause the abandonment of your cruise.”10
The experienced warrant and petty officers that Bulloch provided and Waddell brought with him were mostly English and Irish, having never set foot on American soil, although several were Alabama veterans. Boatswain Harwood was an old Liverpool salt, a Royal Navy pensioner and member of the Royal Naval Reserves; he had been of particular assistance to Semmes in enlisting his crew. Bulloch requested that Captain Ramsay of Laurel and Captain Corbett of Sea King encourage their men to join. Both were Confederate sympathizers, and Ramsay was a commissioned lieutenant in the Confederate navy as well as licensed British merchant master.
Liquor flowed as the officers struggled to convince sailors to sign on. One seaman reported that a bucket of gold sovereigns appeared: “The officers took up handfuls to tempt the men on deck.” They were promised the best of living conditions, provisions out of ships captured, and prize money at the end of the war. Waddell told them that his orders were to simply destroy federal commerce; the vessel was not made to fight, and he intended to run away unless in a very urgent case. The Confederates anticipated that at least fifty men would sign on, which would prove sufficient until reinforcements could be enlisted from captured ships. They got less than half that.11
Midshipman Mason faulted Commander Bulloch as well as British and American officials for making it difficult to recruit sailors. “The men got frightened at the looks of things, did not like the way they had been deceived, in short got the old devil into them.” Some were “considerably riled.” Sea King quartermaster John Ellison, another member of the Royal Naval Reserves, had never earned a shilling in America in his life and did not wish to fight for it. England was his country and he was not ashamed to own it. Pointing to his reserves cap, Ellison stated: “If I were to desert from this, you cannot place any confidence in me.”12
Captain Corbett was said to be the worse for drink, upsetting his former crewmen even further by refusing to immediately pay three months’ wages for breach of contract as entitled by British law. And the political climate in England had changed, reflecting a marked loss of both sympathy for the Confederacy and confidence in Southern victory. Laws forbidding the Queen’s subjects to take service in a foreign navy, a crime punishable by fine or imprisonment, were being more stringently enforced. So, despite all inducements, most of the sailors insisted on returning with Laurel.
Captain Corbett and Captain Ramsay advised Waddell not to continue with so small a crew. It was too dangerous. Waddell conferred with his new first lieutenant, suggesting that they proceed south to Tenerife in the Canary Islands and communicate with Commander Bulloch to have a crew sent to them. But Lieutenant Whittle differed with his captain, as he would in the future. He knew each of the lieutenants personally; they were all “to the manor born.” He recalled the sad fate of the CSS Rappahannock, which a year before had gone into Calais for repairs and been held inactive ever since by stubborn French officials and Union blockaders. Repeating such a course, he counseled, would bring ignominious failure. “Don’t confer, sir, with those who are not going with us. Call your young officers together and learn from their assurances what they can and will do.” Waddell did convene a conference and the sentiment was unanimous: take the ocean. “Let those who hear the sequel judge the wisdom of the decision,” Whittle wrote years later.13
The captain of a ship of war was regarded as supreme in all things. He remained aloof and normally did not share details of the mission, much less request conferences with his officers on fundamental strategic decisions. Only Captain Waddell and First Lieutenant Whittle had been told where they were bound and for what purposes. In contrast to Waddell’s apparent indecision and lack of resolve, Bulloch would later note, the junior officers demonstrated that “pluck and that ingrained verve and aptitude of the sea which is characteristic of the Anglo-Saxon race.”14
Dr. Lining saw no chance of recruiting men in any port within many a long mile, and he did not wish to risk being detained or blockaded. They had plenty to eat—the ship was well provisioned—but nothing else. The wardroom was bare of furniture; staterooms had perhaps a washstand and a shelf but no lockers, no drawers, most of them not even bunks, not a chair apiece; and no storerooms existed for boatswain, sail, or gunnery supplies. But the holds were large and the wardroom and berth deck were spacious. They began striking everything below, putting it anywhere to clear the decks.
Just then, a vessel with the look of a warship appeared over the horizon bearing down upon them under topsails. They were armed only with swords and pistols, Enfield rifles, and two small saluting and signaling cannon. The big guns remained in crates disguised as “machinery.” “I, for one,” wrote Lining, “thought our cruise would be but a short one.” Hands were ordered to the anchor windlass as engineers rushed to generate steam. Laurel raised her anchor and bore away for the strange sail to lead her away, if possible, should she prove a Yankee. It was a gallant action on Captain Ramsay’s part, noted the doctor: “[I] began to think the anchor would never come in, & that my arms & shoulders would break first, but we worked away.” Suddenly the stranger sheered away setting English colors. Laurel returned and stood by while Shenandoah finally got under way. It was about three o’clock in the afternoon, the weather rough with heavy swell running.
Letters home were hurriedly prepared. Captain Waddell wrote final dispatches including a note to Liverpool expressing doubts that he would accomplish all that was expected. Bulloch would recall this letter as “somewhat desponding.” The mail was sent across and Laurel was off under steam for Tenerife where she was to coal, proceed to Nassau, and then try running the blockade. Captain Ramsay and crew gave three
