An Unlikely Blockade Runner, cont.

Riverboats at the cotton docks at Mobile, c. 1900. The scene in 1863 would not have been much different, when boats like these were pressed into service as blockade runners. LoC image.
In the comments on my recent post about the river steamboat William Bagaley attempting to run the blockade, a regular reader asks:
That’s a great question, and it underscores that in the last post I neglected to explain very well why Bagaley would be considered an unlikely candidate for a runner in the first place. Let me see if I can do that now.
Riverboats like William Bagaley were, by the 1850s, a very distinct and specialized type of vessel, optimized for work on the Western Rivers (i.e., the Mississippi, Ohio, Missouri and their tributaries). In the arrangement of their machinery, and particularly their hull construction, they were very ill-suited to make long passages on open water. They were generally of very shallow draft, and their hulls were of light construction, braced with wooden trusses and iron rods. The main deck of a fully-loaded riverboat was often barely above the level of the water. Western Rivers boats were generally built without external keels and, having lots of superstructure, would be prone to drift off to leeward in a strong wind. They could manage well enough on a calm day with a flat sea, but anything more unsettled than that could be a serious problem.
Not that riverboats didn’t ever make a passage in the open Gulf of Mexico; many of them did make relatively short runs along the coast. The large majority of the 200+ steamboats that operated in Texas on the Sabine, Neches, Trinity, Brazos and Rio Grande had been built on the Ohio or Mississippi, and made the transit to Texas from the mouth of the Mississippi through the Gulf of Mexico. But those were relatively short runs, and generally in sight of land. It’s a whole different thing, in my view, to set out on a three- or four-day passage across the Gulf from Mobile to Havana or another port in Cuba.
Fuel is another problem. Riverboats in the Deep South generally burned cordwood, which is enormously bulky. Boats generally stopped to wood at least daily, if not more frequently. Boats sometimes towed wood barges along behind them, or lashed alongside, but that would severely limit their speed, and doesn’t seem to have been done in this case. Carrying four days’ fuel would have taken up a LOT of space that otherwise might have been used for an outbound cargo. And it had to be enough fuel for the whole trip, since (unlike more conventional, seagoing steamers), these riverboats didn’t carry a rudimentary sail plan that could be used to help them get by when the wood started running low.
So, yeah, it’s just a little bit nuts to try something like this with a riverboat. But the fact that there was a fairly large-scale, coordinated effort to use riverboats in this way speaks both to the urgency of Confederate government officials in wanting to establish a viable blockade-running system out of Mobile, and a willingness on the part of boat owners, whose vessels had been largely idled by the war and the near-elimination of maritime trade in the Gulf of Mexico, to try just about anything to turn their fortunes around.
Here’s how Stephen Wise describes this effort in Lifeline of the Confederacy (170-72):
or captured, with the fast Union steamer De Soto accounting for five of the losses.
We know what became of Wiliam Bagaley and James Battle; they were captured on their first run out of Mobile for Havana. What about the others?











So out of these seven vessels (including Wiliam Bagaley and James Battle
), only two — Alice Vivian and Crescent — successfully made a complete, round voyage (one each), Mobile-Havana-Mobile. Five were captured on their first run out. It’s a terrible record, particularly for that period of the war. The seven ships together made twelve one-way attempts to pass through the Yankee blockade, only five of which were successful (about 42%). Marcus Price, the historian who tallied up attempts by blockade runners throughout the war, calculated that during 1863 in the Gulf of Mexico, steamers made 99 attempts at the blockade, of which 73 were successful. On any given run, three out of four typically got through. In fact, the actual odds were probably better than that for the others, given that Price’s totals include these sad-sack cases out of Mobile.
The lesson, I suppose, is that riverboats make terrible blockade runners. Make a note.
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Cornelius Vanderbilt’s Vanderbilt was his North Atlantic steamer for passengers and mail, built in 1856. With the Civil War, he donated the Vanderbilt to the U.S. Army, then transferred her to the U.S. Navy in 1862.
From this website, because I’m too lazy to write this up in my own language:
[ “Popularly known as “Vanderbilt’s Yacht,” the former flagship of Commodore Cornelius Vanderbilt’s North Atlantic Mail Steamship Line began her military career in Hampton Roads, Va., intended for use as a ram against the Confederate ironclad CSS Virginia. Commodore Vanderbilt, himself, suggested filling the bow of the vessel with concrete and reenforcing it with iron plating. This was not done, however, and Vanderbilt was turned over to the Navy on 24 March and fitted with a heavy battery of 15 guns at the New York Navy Yard during the summer of 1862. She left New York on 10 November and—after conducting a brief search for CSS Alabama, the most destructive Confederate commerce raider of the entire war—put into Hampton Roads on 17 January 1863.
Ten days later, Vanderbilt received orders to conduct a much longer and more thorough search for Alabama. This year-long cruise took the vessel to the West Indies, eastern coast of South America, Cape of Good Hope, St. Helena, Cape Verde, the Canary Islands, Spain and Portugal. During the West Indies portion of her deployment, Vanderbilt served as flagship of Commodore Charles Wilkes’ Flying Squadron. During the search, Vanderbilt captured the blockade-running British steamer Peterhoff on 25 February, off St. ThomaT, Virgin Islands, causing a dispute between the British and Americans as to the disposition of mail carried aboard the steamer. President Lincoln eventually ordered the mail returned to the British. Vanderbilt’s captures also included the British blockade runner Gertrude, taken off Eleuthera Island in the Bahamas on 16 April, and the British bark Saxon, seized at Angra Peguena, Africa, on 30 October. Saxon was suspected of having rendezvoused with and taken cargo off CSS Tuscaloosa earlier. However, pursuing leads as to the whereabouts of Alabama, herself, became increasingly frustrating as Vanderbilt would often arrive at a port only to discover that her quarry had departed only a few hours earlier. She eventually returned to New York in January 1864 for repairs without ever having sighted the Confederate vessel.” ]
Here’s another site about Vanderbilt, ironclads, blockade runners and the Civil War.