Front matter (continued 3)

"On the 15th of May, 1862, a few days after the surrender of Norfolk to the Federals by her father-in-law, then mayor, amid the excitement attending a captured city, her son Willie was born. Cut off from her husband and subjected to the privations and annoyances incident to a subjugated community, her father insisted upon her coming with her children to his home in Providence; but, notwithstanding she was in a luxurious home with all that paternal love could do for her, she preferred to leave all these comforts to share with her husband the dangers and privations of the South. She vainly tried to persuade Stanton, Secretary of War, to let her and her three children with a nurse return to the South; finally he consented to let her go by flag of truce from Washington to City Point, but without a nurse, and as she was unable to manage three little ones, she left the youngest with his grandparents, and with two others bravely set out for Dixie. The generous outfit of every description which was prepared for the journey, and which was carried to the place of embarkation, was ruthlessly cast aside by the inspectors on the wharf, and no tears or entreaties or offers of reward by the parents availed to pass anything save a scanty supply of clothing and other necessaries. Arriving in the South, the brave young mother refused the proffer of a beautiful home in Wilmington, the occupancy of the grand old colonial mansion Orton, on the Cape Fear River, and insisted upon taking up her abode with her children and their colored nurse in the upper room of a pilot's house, where they lived until the soldiers of the garrison built her a cottage one mile north of Fort Fisher, on the Atlantic Beach. In both of these homes she was occasionally exposed to the shot and shell fired from blockaders at belated blockade runners.

"It was a quaint abode, constructed in most primitive style, with three rooms around one big chimney, in which North Carolina pine knots supplied heat and light on winter nights. This cottage became historic, and was famed for the frugal but tempting meals which its charming hostess would prepare for her distinguished guests. Besides the many illustrious Confederate Army and Navy officers who were delighted to find this bit of sunshiny civilization on the wild sandy beach, ensconced among the sand dunes and straggling pines and black-jack, many celebrated English naval officers enjoyed its hospitality under assumed names: Roberts, afterwards the renowned Hobart Pasha, who commanded the Turkish Navy; Murray, now Admiral Murray-Aynsley, long since retired after having been rapidly promoted for gallantry and meritorious services in the British Navy; the brave but unfortunate Hugh Burgoyne, V.C., who went down in the British ironclad Captain, in the Bay of Biscay; and the chivalrous Hewett, who won the Victoria Cross in the Crimea and was knighted for his services as ambassador to King John of Abyssinia, and who, after commanding the Queen's yacht, died lamented as Admiral Hewett. Besides these there were many genial and gallant merchant captains, among them Halpin, who afterwards commanded the Great Eastern while laying ocean cables; and famous war correspondents—Hon. Francis C. Lawley, M.P., correspondent of the London Times, and Frank Vizetelly, of the London Illustrated News, afterwards murdered in the Soudan. Nor must the plucky Tom Taylor be forgotten, supercargo of the Banshee and the Night Hawk, who, by his coolness and daring escaped with a boat's crew from the hands of the Federals after capture off the fort, and who was endeared to the children as the Santa Claus of the war.

"At first the little Confederate was satisfied with pork and potatoes, cornbread and rye coffee, with sorghum sweetening; but after the blockade runners made her acquaintance the impoverished storeroom was soon filled to overflowing, notwithstanding her heavy requisitions on it for the post hospital, the sick and wounded soldiers and sailors always being a subject of her tenderest solicitude, and often the hard-worked and poorly fed colored hands blessed the little lady of the cottage for a tempting treat.

"Full of stirring events were the two years passed in the cottage on Confederate Point. The drowning of Mrs. Rose Greenhow, the famous Confederate spy, off Fort Fisher, and the finding of her body, which was tenderly cared for, and the rescue from the waves, half dead, of Professor Holcombe, and his restoration, were incidents never to be forgotten. Her fox hunting with horse and hounds, the narrow escapes of friendly vessels, the fights over blockade runners driven ashore, the execution of deserters, and the loss of an infant son, whose little spirit went out with the tide one sad summer night, all contributed to the reality of this romantic life.

"When Porter's fleet appeared off Fort Fisher, December, 1864, it was storm bound for several days, and the little family with their household goods were sent across the river to Orton before Butler's powder ship blew up. After the Christmas victory over Porter and Butler, the little heroine insisted upon coming back to her cottage, although her husband had procured a home of refuge in Cumberland County. General Whiting protested against her running the risk, for on dark nights her husband could not leave the fort, but she said if the firing became too hot she would run behind the sand hills as she had done before, and come she would.

"The fleet reappeared unexpectedly on the night of the 12th of January, 1865. It was a dark night, and when the lights of the fleet were reported her husband sent a courier to the cottage to instruct her to pack up quickly and be prepared to leave with children and nurse as soon as he could come to bid them good-bye. The garrison barge, with a trusted crew, was stationed at Craig's Landing, near the cottage. After midnight, when all necessary orders were given for the coming attack, the colonel mounted his horse and rode to the cottage, but all was dark and silent. He found the message had been delivered, but his brave wife had been so undisturbed by the news that she had fallen asleep and no preparations for a retreat had been made. Precious hours had been lost, and as the fleet would soon be shelling the beach and her husband have to return to the fort, he hurried them into the boat as soon as dressed, with only what could be gathered up hastily, leaving dresses, toys, and household articles to fall into the hands of the foe."

Mr. Thomas E. Taylor's description of the famous Englishmen referred to is worth repeating:

"As my memory takes me back to those jovial but hard-working days of camaraderie, it is melancholy to think how many of those friends have gone before; Mrs. Murray-Aynsley, Mrs. Hobart and her husband, Hobart Pasha; Hugh Burgoyne, one of the Navy's brightest ornaments, who was drowned while commanding the ill-fated Captain; Hewett, who lately gave up command of the Channel Fleet only to die; old Steele, the king of blockade-running captains; Maurice Portman, an ex-diplomatist; Frank Vizetelly, whose bones lie alongside those of Hicks Pasha in the Soudan; Lewis Grant Watson, my brother agent; Arthur Doering, one of my loyal lieutenants, and a host of old Confederate friends, are all gone, and I could count on my fingers those remaining of a circle of chums who did not know what care or fear was, and who would have stood by each other through thick and thin in any emergency. In fact, my old friends Admiral Murray-Aynsley and Frank Hurst are almost the only two living of that companionship.

"Of Hobart Pasha and of the important part he played in the Turko-Russian war and Cretan rebellion (in which he acknowledged that his blockade-running experiences stood him in such good stead) most, if not all my readers will have read or heard. He commanded a smart little twin-screw steamer called the Don, in fact one of the first twin-propeller steamers ever built. And very proud he was of his craft, in which he made several successful runs under the assumed name of Captain Roberts. On her first trip after Captain Roberts gave up command in order to go home, the Don was captured after a long chase, and his late chief officer, who was then in charge, was assumed by his captors to be Roberts. He maintained silence concerning the point, and the Northern newspapers upon the arrival of the prize at Philadelphia were full of the subject of the 'Capture of the Don and the notorious English naval officer, "Captain Roberts."' Much chagrined were they to find they had got the wrong man, and that the English naval officer was still at large.

"Poor Burgoyne, whose tragic and early end, owing to the capsizing of the Captain, everybody deplored, as a blockade runner was not very successful. If I remember correctly he made only two or three trips. Had he lived he would have had a brilliant career before him in the Navy; bravest of the brave, as is evidenced by the V.C. he wore, gentle as a woman, unselfish to a fault, he might have saved his life if he had thought more of himself and less of his men on that terrible occasion off Finisterre, when his last words were, 'Look out for yourselves, men; never mind me.'

"Then there was Hewett, another wearer of the 'cross for valor,' who has only recently joined the majority, after a brilliant career as admiral commanding in the East Indies, Red Sea, and Channel Fleet; who successfully interviewed King John in Abyssinia, and was not content to pace the deck of his flagship at Suakim, but insisted upon fighting in the square at El Teb, and whose hospitality and geniality later on as commander in chief of the Channel Fleet was proverbial.

"Murray-Aynsley, I rejoice to say, is still alive.[6] Who that knows 'old Murray' does not love him? Gentle as a child, brave as a lion, a man without guile, he was perhaps the most successful of all the naval blockade runners. In the Venus he had many hairbreadth escapes, notably on one occasion when he ran the gauntlet of the Northern fleet in daylight into Wilmington. The Venus, hotly pursued by several blockaders and pounded at by others, while she steamed straight through them, old Murray on the bridge, with his coat sleeves hitched up almost to his arm-pits—a trick he had when greatly excited—otherwise as cool as possible, was, as Lamb afterwards told me, 'a sight never to be forgotten.'"

FOOTNOTES:

INTELLIGENT CONTRABANDS.

An almost daily incident of the Federal blockading fleet was the rescue from frail boats of negro slaves, officially reported by the Federals as "intelligent contrabands," who at the risk of their lives deserted their owners and escaped to the Federal warships several miles from the beach. They numbered several hundred during the war, and I am informed that very few of them returned from the North, where many settled in their new-found freedom. Some of the more industrious prospered, but a larger proportion died from exposure to the rigorously cold winters of the North.

Specimens of the official reports of such cases follow:

"U.S.S. 'Monticello,' "Off Wilmington, N.C., "September 22, 1862.

"Sir: I beg leave to forward you the following information obtained from the within named persons, who came off to this vessel this morning:

"Frank Clinton, aged thirty-five years, belonging to Robert H. Cowan.

"Samuel Mince, aged twenty-three years, belonging to Mrs. Elizabeth Mints.

"Thomas Cowen, aged twenty-four years, belonging to Mrs. J.G. Wright.

"Charles Millett, aged twenty-eight years, belonging to Mrs. John Walker.

"James Brown, aged twenty-three years, belonging to John Brown.

"Horace Smith, aged twenty-two years, belonging to Mrs. William Smith.

"David Mallett, aged twenty-six years, belonging to Mrs. John Walker.

"The gunboat North Carolina is to be launched next Saturday and is to be clad with railroad iron down to the water's edge. The sides of the boat are built angular, and the guns are to be mounted on a covered deck. The lower part of the hull is of pine and the upper of heavy oak. This vessel is to be fitted up by Mr. Benjamin Beery and the engine she is to have is to come out of the steamer Uncle Ben, formerly a tugboat. The contrabands state that they are sanguine of having her ready by the 10th of October, 1862. These contrabands are from in and about Wilmington city, and they all agree in stating that that city is completely entrenched and guns mounted at every half mile upon the works. From their account Cape Fear River has several batteries upon its banks. The first is called Camp Brown, two miles from the city, which is an earth and log work on the right-hand side going up the river, and mounts two guns; opposite to it are obstructions in the river, consisting of sunken cribs. The next fort below is called Mount Tirza and mounts two guns and is on the same side of the river. The next is Fort St. Philip, a large work, mounting sixteen guns, near Old Brunswick, on the left-hand side of the river going up. Opposite this last-named work the obstructions in the river are heavy piles with a narrow passageway through them. At this point the lightboat, which was taken from Frying Pan Shoals, is anchored inside the obstruction and mounts four guns. There is also a lightboat anchored inside Zeek's Island, mounting a like number of guns. One of these contrabands is from Fayetteville, N. C., and states that they are making rifles and gun carriages up there, and also that they are building a large foundry and blacksmith's shop. As fast as the arms are completed they are sent to Raleigh, North Carolina.

"These contrabands state that the rebels succeeded in getting out of the Modern Greece (which vessel was run ashore near New Inlet) six rifled cannon, which, from their description, I should judge to be Whitworth's breech-loading guns; also 500 stand of arms and a large amount of powder and clothing, the last two in a damaged condition. One also states that the steamer Kate, before running into this port, was chased by a cruiser and threw overboard 10,000 stand of arms. This he is positive of, as one of the hands on board the Kate, a friend of his, told him so. From their accounts I judge that a regular and uninterrupted trade is kept up between Nassau, New Providence, and Shallotte Inlet, N.C., which inlet is about 20 miles to the westward of this place. Schooners are said to arrive here weekly, and, after discharging, take in cotton, turpentine, and rosin, and sail for Nassau with papers purporting that they sailed from the city of Wilmington. I would suggest that some means be taken to stop this trade, and I am,

"Very respectfully, "Your obedient servant, "D.L. Braine, "Lieutenant-Commander.

"Commander G.H. Scott, "Comdg. U.S.S. 'Maratanza,' "Off Western Bar, Cape Fear River."

"U.S. Gunboat 'Penobscot,' "Off Cape Fear, N.C., "September 23, 1862.

"Sir: I have to inform you that seven contrabands came to this vessel this morning who gave their own and their masters' names as follows:

"William, owned by S.G. Northrop, of Wilmington.

"Lewis, owned by Dr. McCrea, of Wilmington.

"Ben Greer, owned by P.K. Dickinson, of Wilmington.

"George, owned by T.D. Walker, of Wilmington.

"Virgil Richardson, owned by James Bradley.

"Abraham Richardson, owned by D.A.F. Flemming.

"No information of importance was elicited, except that the steamer Mariner, loaded with cotton, tobacco, and turpentine, was ready for sea and would make an early attempt to run the blockade of this port.

"I am, respectfully, "Your obedient servant, "J.M.B. Clitz, "Commander.

"Commander G.H. Scott, "Commanding U.S.S. 'Maratanza,' "And Senior Officer Present."

"From William Robins, contraband, ship carpenter, who has been at work upon one of the rebel gunboats at Wilmington since July:

"1. There are two boats in process of construction; one at J.L. Cassidy & Sons, the other at Beery & Brothers. Captain Whitehead superintends the former and Mr. Williams the latter. Commander Muse has control of the whole. Both boats are built upon the same plan, 150 feet keel, 23 feet beam, 12 feet draft. They are to be iron-roofed like the Merrimac. The iron is to be made in Richmond and will be ready in four months. The engines are on board but not set. One of them is new, made at Richmond; the other was taken from the Uncle Ben. Propellers are about eight feet in diameter. The boats are pierced for eight guns, but will carry but three, which can be moved at ease. Guns are not yet ready. Boats would have been ready for launching in three weeks had not many of the workmen left. Some struck for more pay; some were fearful of yellow fever. Formerly ninety-five to one hundred were at work on each boat; now only thirty. Pay $2.50 to $3.

"2. Provisions scarce. Flour, $27; rice, 12½ cents; potatoes, $3.50 to $4; bacon, 50 cents; beef, 25 cents; meal, $2; butter, 85 cents to $1.

"3. There are no soldiers in Wilmington. Colonel Livingsthrop (Leventhorpe), with one regiment, is at Masonboro Sound. There are about 3,000 in all in this vicinity. Colonel Lamb is at Fort Fisher. Captain Dudley evacuated Zeek's Island and is now at Fort Fisher.

"4. Friday last was set apart by President Davis as a day for thanksgiving and prayer for the victories before Richmond and in Maryland, as also for the capture of Harpers Ferry and Cincinnati, both of which were taken without the loss of a life.

"5. No vessel has run in or out of the port since the Modern Greece except the Kate. The Modern Greece had two shots through her boiler, and one through her donkey engine. Her cargo consisted of powder and arms and whisky. Much was taken out and much remains. Powder was all wet. They dried some of it. She had two heavy guns. She was a very fine steamer. They saved none of her machinery.

"The Kate ran in and out the main channel. The tug Mariner is now ready to run out, having 100 bales of cotton and 100 barrels of rosin. They say a schooner ran in at Little River Inlet not long ago. The Mariner is going to Nassau for salt."

Information given by Colonel Shaw's body servant:

"Thirty-five hundred troops (a large margin given) in and about Wilmington, including all the forts, under the command of General Leventhorpe. At present most of the soldiers have left Wilmington and moved down this way on account of yellow fever. There are about 800 at Fort Caswell, and about double the number at Fort Fisher. The troops are clothed, very dirty, but apparently are sufficiently fed. Provisions come to them from the country. They enlist from fourteen to fifty years of age. Many of the conscripts run away; 300 have deserted in one day. Have telegrams from Richmond, but they are in doubt about the entire correctness of such. Previous to the battles before Richmond the people were quite disheartened and were willing to give up the place; since, however, they are much encouraged, and a better feeling pervades. There are some Union men in W. Not any small craft at W. The two gunboats, not rams, are being completed; workmen from the army. One engine is new from Richmond; the other old from Uncle Ben, and each boat will mount three guns on a side; also one forward and one aft. The tug Mariner is prepared to run for Nassau. Has two guns; is loaded with cotton. Flour is $30 per barrel; whisky $15 a gallon; boots $20 a pair. Have grown some corn about W. this season. No business doing. Clerks all enlisted. The fort's southwest breastworks were injured by the Otorara; no one killed. Beauregard at Charleston, and Lieut. Commander Flusser, who ought to have left out the 'l' in his name, said: 'A "reliable contraband" who says he deserted from the enemy today and who represents himself as an officer's servant, declares that he has heard of no boat building up this river; that he does not believe that there is one there; that one was some time since under construction at Tarboro, but that work on her has been discontinued,' etc. I fear the 'reliable contraband' was sent in by Messieurs les Secesh. I do not think anyone can outlie a North Carolina white, unless he be a North Carolina negro."

Also there were occasional white deserters from Fort Fisher and from the out-lying Confederate camps or outposts. These were not named for obvious reasons, and they were described in the official reports as so ragged and so infested with vermin that they had to be immediately divested of their clothing, which was thrown overboard, and the deserters were clothed from the ships' supply chests. As cleanliness is said to be next to godliness, it is manifest that these fellows were a very bad lot.

MALINGERERS.

It is remarkable that the blockade runners seldom included in their complement of officers and crew a professional doctor or surgeon, although there were occasions when they were greatly needed. Few of our men were wounded, although the bombshells burst all round us again and again and finally sunk the Lilian to a level with the deck.

The runs from Wilmington to Nassau were made in forty-eight to fifty-two hours, and to Bermuda in seventy-two to eighty hours, and the sick or wounded received scant attention until they reached port. It therefore devolved upon the purser or the chief officer to attend such cases, and my very limited knowledge of medicine restricted the treatment of our alleged sick men to compound cathartic pills and quinine. A majority of the cases of "pains all over them" were malingerers, some of whom dodged their duty during the entire voyage. Captain Hobart, of the Don, told us of such a case on his ship interviewed by his chief officer, C——, as follows:

C.: "Well, my man, what's the matter with you?"

Patient: "Please, sir, I've got pains all over me."

C.: "Oh, all over you, are they? That's bad."

Then during the pause it was evident that something was being mixed up, and I could hear C—— say: "Here, take this, and come again in the evening." (Exit patient.)

Then C—— said to himself: "I don't think he'll come again; he has got two drops of the croton. Skulking rascal, pains all over him, eh?"

"I never heard the voice of that patient again," said Captain Hobart; "in fact, after a short time we had no cases of sickness on board."

C—— explained that what he served out, as he called it, was croton oil; and that none of the crew came twice for treatment.

The ship's discipline was generally well maintained at sea, but instances of insubordination in port were of almost daily occurrence. These were dealt with usually by the first mate, or, as he was designated, the chief officer. But some of the incorrigibles were brought before the commander for treatment and something like this colloquy, which I take partly from Punch, would ensue:

Commander: "What is this man's character apart from this offence?"

Petty Officer: "Well, sir, this here man, he goes ashore when he likes, he comes aboard when he likes, he uses 'orrible language when he's spoke to. In fact from his general behavior he might be taken for the captain of this ship," which exactly fitted the case of our skipper at that time, who was an expert in the use of 'orrible language.

EXPERIENCES IN QUARANTINE.

Eluding the blockading fleet at the Cape Fear Bar was not the only adventure in those perilous days. It was quite within the range of possibility that a steamer would run into a harbor and find the town, hitherto perfectly healthy, withered under the malign spell of some scourge like yellow fever or smallpox. Sometimes the plague would break out in the town while the steamer was loading, sometimes it would break out among the crew of the steamer, and this is what was alleged of the Lilian on the occasion I am about to relate.

After several narrow escapes from the squadron in the Gulf Stream, the Lilian made St. George, Bermuda, on the morning of the fourth day, and at once discharged her cargo, hoping to get away in time for another run while we had a few hours of darkness.

We had, however, hardly received the half of our inward cargo of gunpowder and commissary supplies when we were visited by the harbor doctor, who alleged that we had a case of smallpox on board and peremptorily ordered us to the quarantine ground, about two miles out of port, among some uninhabited rocks, which made the usual dreariness of a quarantine station more distressing, and where he informed us we must remain at least twenty-one days. In vain our captain protested that he was mistaken, that the case to which he referred was a slight attack of malarial fever, combined with other symptoms which were not at all dangerous (which subsequently proved to be true). The doctor was unrelenting; if we did not proceed at once, he said, he would report us to the governor at Hamilton, who would send H.M.S. Spitfire, then on the station, to tow us out, and after we had served our quarantine, we would be arrested for resisting his authority. Finding remonstrance of no avail, our captain agreed to get away as soon as possible, but before we could make preparation for our departure a tug was sent alongside which towed us out, nolens volens, and left us at anchor among the sea gulls, with only ten days' provisions for a three weeks' quarantine.

Being ex officio the ship's doctor, I began at once to physic the unfortunate sailor who had unwittingly brought us into this trouble, and, although my knowledge of the pharmacopœia did not go beyond cathartic pills and quinine, I soon had him on his feet to join all hands for inspection by the quarantine officer, who came off to windward of us every day and at a respectable distance bawled out his category of questions which were required by law.

We were daily warned that if any of our officers or crew were found on shore or on board any of the vessels in the harbor, the full extent of the law would be meted out to them, and we were given to understand that twenty-one days' quarantine was a mere bagatelle compared with the punishment which would follow any attempt to evade these restrictions; notwithstanding which, we came to a unanimous decision at the end of three days that we would prefer the risk of capture at sea to such a life in comparative security, and it was accordingly resolved by the captain that if any of us were plucky enough to take his gig and a boat's crew to St. George and secure some castings at a shipsmith's on shore which were required by the chief engineer, we would proceed toward Wilmington without further preparation and without the formality required by law.

Being comparatively indifferent as to the result, albeit somewhat confident of success, I at once volunteered, to which our captain agreed, and amid a good deal of chaffing from several Confederate officers who were with us as passengers, I started with our second engineer and five trustworthy men for the shore.

We were careful to leave shortly after the visit of the health physician, so that our absence would not be noticed when all hands were turned out, and as we approached the harbor I was gratified to observe that we were entirely unnoticed. We landed about half a mile below the town, and leaving the men with the boat, which I ordered them to keep concealed, I proceeded with the engineer to dispatch our business, which delayed us several hours.

At last we were ready for the return, and finding our men unmolested, we proceeded down the harbor toward the ship Storm King, which had recently left the China trade to carry Confederate States Government cotton from the Bermuda rendezvous to Liverpool. As we passed under her quarter, we were excitedly hailed by her captain, to whom I was well known personally, with the intelligence that a quarantine boat had just left our ship and that we were probably discovered, as its course had been suddenly changed for us while we were pulling down the bay.

Thinking to elude the pursuer, if such it proved to be, I steered for the rocks along shore, the men giving way at the oars with a will, but we soon saw that we were closely watched and that our friend's fears were fully realized. The well-known yellow flag was borne by a boat now clearly in pursuit of us; and, finding escape cut off, we at once returned to the Storm King and entreated the captain to secrete us on board, and if the health officer boarded him, to profess ignorance of us altogether. This the good fellow agreed to do, and my men having been set to work as if they were part of the crew, I, with the engineer, was at once secreted and locked in one of the many staterooms then empty.

We had hardly settled ourselves in the berths, determined that if the worst came we would cover up our heads and draw the curtains, when we heard the measured sound of oars approaching the gangway near the room in which we were hiding, and a moment later the hail, "Storm King ahoy!" "Aye, aye, sir; what do you want?"

"You have on board a boat's crew from the steamer Lilian in quarantine, who have left contrary to law. I demand their surrender."

"Quite a mistake, Doctor; quite a mistake, I assure you," responded Captain McDonald.

"But I saw the boat pull under your quarter a few minutes ago, and I insist upon their forthcoming, or we will search your ship."

"But I protest, Doctor, there are no such people on board my ship."

"What a consummate liar old McDonald is," groaned the engineer, sweltering under two pairs of blankets.

"Ah ha," exclaimed the health officer at this moment, "we have here the captain's gig alongside; and here is the name Lilian on the stern. How is this?"

"Oh," replied the imperturbable McDonald, "we picked her up adrift this morning; I am glad to know the owner."

"A very unlikely story, Captain, and we will have to search," quoth the doctor; and then we heard several persons ascending the ladder, followed by further expostulations on the part of our friend the captain, evidently of no avail, for the party immediately entered the saloon and began their search. Door after door was opened and shut, and as they gradually approached our hiding place, I looked up at Sandy McKinnon, the Scotch engineer, who presented a most ludicrous and woeful sight, the perspiration pouring down his fat cheeks, as in a most despairful voice he moaned, "It's a' up wi' us the noo, Purser, it's a' up wi' us; we shall be put in preeson and the deil kens what'll be to pay."

With anxious hearts we waited for the worst, and at last it came; a heavy hand wrenched our door knob and an impatient voice demanded that the door be unlocked. The steward protested that the room was empty and that the key was lost, which only seemed to increase the officer's determination to enter. High words ensued. The captain, with a heartiness which excited our admiration but increased our fear, poured a volley of abuse upon the unlucky doctor, who was apparently discharging his duty, and at times I fancied they had almost come to blows. This was at last quelled by a peremptory demand that the ship's carpenter be sent for to force the door. The steward at this juncture produced the key, which he averred had just been found in another lock, and while he fumbled at our door I thought I heard the sound of suppressed laughter on the outside, but dismissed the idea as absurd.

A moment after the door opened, and before our astonished vision were ranged our good friends and shipmates, Major Hone of Savannah, Capt. Leo Vogel of St. Augustine, Sergeant Gregory of Crowells, and Eugene Maffitt, who with Captain McDonald and several of his friends were fairly shrieking with laughter at our sorry plight. We had been completely sold. The whole scheme was planned on board our own ship immediately after our departure, and Captain McDonald was privy to the arrangement which he so successfully carried out.

The voices which we supposed in our fright came from Her Majesty's officers, were feigned by our own people, who made the most of the joke at our expense. The trick was too good to keep, and when the good doctor came next day to discharge us from quarantine, all traces of sickness having disappeared, no one enjoyed the fun more than he, although he said it might have resulted seriously enough.

CONFEDERATE STATES SIGNAL CORPS.

The Confederate States Signal Corps frequently rendered some very efficient service to the blockade runners after they had succeeded in getting between the blockaders and the beach, where they were also in danger of the shore batteries until their character became known to the forts.

As the signal system developed, a detailed member was sent out with each ship, and so important did this service become that signal officers, as they were called, were occasionally applied for by owners or captains of steamers in the Clyde or at Liverpool before sailing for Bermuda or Nassau to engage in running the blockade.

The first attempt to communicate with the shore batteries was a failure, and consequently the service suffered some reproach for a while, but subsequent practice with intelligent, cool-headed men resulted in complete success, and some valuable ships, with still more valuable cargoes, were saved from capture or destruction by the intervention of the signal service, when, owing to the darkness and bad landfall, the captain and pilot were alike unable to recognize their geographical position.

To the late Mr. Frederick W. Gregory, of Crowells, N.C., belonged the honor of the first success as a signal operator in this service. Identified with the corps from the beginning of the blockade, and with the Cape Fear at Price's Creek Station, which was for a long time in his efficient charge, he brought to this new and novel duty an experience and efficiency equalled by few of his colleagues and surpassed by none. It was well said of him that he was always ready and never afraid, two elements of the almost unvarying success which attended the ships to which he was subsequently assigned. It was my good fortune to be intimately associated with Mr. Gregory for nearly two years, during which we had many ups and downs together as shipmates aboard and as companions ashore. He was one of the few young men engaged in blockade running who successfully resisted the evil influences and depraved associations with which we were continually surrounded. Unselfish and honorable in all his relations with his fellows, courageous as a lion in time of danger, he was an honor to his State and to the cause which he so worthily represented.

The following narrative related by him gives a more explicit account of the signal service than I could offer by description of its workings:

"Some time early in 1863, the Confederate Government purchased on the Clyde (I think) two steamers for the purpose of running the blockade. The first to arrive was the Giraffe. While in the Cape Fear, Captain Alexander, who had charge of the signal corps at Smithville, suggested the propriety of putting a signal officer aboard to facilitate the entrance of ships into the port at night by the use of two lights, a red and a white, covered with a shade in front of the globe to lift up and down, by which we could send messages as we did with the flag on land in the day and with the torch at night; the red light representing the wave to the right and the white light the wave to the left. After some consultation General Whiting ordered Captain Alexander to send up a signal officer to join the Giraffe, and Robert Herring was detailed for that purpose and sent to Wilmington, where the lights were prepared, and he went aboard. The Giraffe went out and returned successfully, but from some cause (I never understood why) Herring failed to attract the attention of the land force and sent no message ashore. In the meantime the other steamer, the Cornubia, arrived in port, and Captain Alexander having been ordered elsewhere, and Lieutenant Doggett having been sent down from Richmond to take charge of the signal corps, General Whiting ordered a signal officer for the Cornubia, and I was detailed and sent to Wilmington to prepare the lights and report on board.

"We cleared the bar successfully, with Captain Burroughs in command, and C.C. Morse as pilot, and had a good voyage to St. George, Bermuda, where we unloaded our cargo of cotton and reloaded with supplies for the Southern Army. On our return trip we made the land fifty or sixty miles above Fort Fisher and coasted down to the inlet, our intention being to get near the land inside the blockading fleet, which was obliged to keep off a certain distance on account of shoal water. As well as I remember, when within fifteen to twenty miles of Fort Fisher, Captain Burroughs sent for me to come on the bridge, and asked if I had my lights ready, and if I thought I could send a message ashore, Pilot Morse in the meantime telling me that he would let me know when we were opposite the signal station on the land, where a constant watch was kept all night for our signal. We had not gone far when Morse told me we were opposite the post. We were feeling our way very slowly in the dark. I was put down on the deck, with the gangways open, my lights facing the land and a screen behind, when I was ordered to call the station. The officers and sailors were highly interested in the movement and crowded around to watch the proceedings. I had called but a few times when I was answered from the shore with a torch. I turned to Captain Burroughs and told him I had the attention of the land forces, and asked what message he wished to send. He replied as follows: 'Colonel Lamb, steamer Cornubia. Protect me. Burroughs.' I got the O.K. for the message from shore, and saw the corps on land call up one station after the other, and transmit my message down to Fort Fisher, miles ahead of us, and afterwards learned that General Whiting was notified by telegraph of the arrival of the Cornubia before she crossed the bar that night; and when we arrived at the fort we found Colonel Lamb down on the point with his Whitworth guns ready to protect us if necessary. The success of this attempt gave an impetus to the signal corps, and from that time every steamer that arrived applied to the Government for a signal officer before leaving port."

The name of the Cornubia was subsequently changed to Lady Davis, in honor of the wife of President Davis at Richmond, and Captain Gale, an officer of the old Navy who had gone over to the Confederacy, was placed in command. "About the 20th of December, 1863," Mr. Gregory adds, "we left Bermuda with a cargo for Wilmington in charge of Captain Gale, with Mr. Robert Grisson as pilot and myself as signal officer. We made land some miles above Wilmington, apparently through bad navigation, almost as far north as Cape Lookout, and when opposite Masonboro in coasting down we observed rockets going up directly ahead of us. We were running at full speed, when to our consternation rockets appeared quite near abreast of us; in fact we were apparently surrounded by cruisers. There was a hurried consultation on the bridge. I was at my post with my lights, waiting to be called, when the order was given to head for the beach and drive the ship high and dry. The blockaders were then cannonading us very heavily. When our good ship struck the beach she ploughed up the sand for a considerable distance, and keeled over on her side. The boats were lowered, and every man told to look out for himself, which I assure you we lost no time in doing, as we had scarcely left the ship before the enemy were boarding her on the opposite side and firing briskly with small arms. They followed us to the beach, and kept up a heavy fire from cannon and small arms for an hour. We dodged about in the bulrushes as best we could, and made our way toward the fort. Captain Thomas, acting chief officer, took ashore with him two fine chronometers, and selected me to carry one for him, but after beating around with them in the rushes for a mile or so, we became exhausted and had to throw them away. I have no doubt they are still lying in the rushes on the beach. We at last met a company of soldiers who protected and escorted us to the sound. We forded the sound and remained all night and were sent to Wilmington the next day, overland, by mule teams. I always thought it was a shame that the Lady Davis was lost, having no doubt we could have put to sea and escaped on the occasion referred to, although I was not informed as to the supply of coal on board.

"Captain Gale had been very sick the day before, and was too feeble to leave the ship, so remained on board and was captured and taken to Fort Warren. The U.S.S. James Adger, commanded by Capt. James Foster of Bloomington, Ind., had the good fortune to capture our ship, and hauled her off as a prize.

"After reaching Wilmington and supplying myself with clothing and a hat, I immediately went on board the steamer Flora with Captain Horner and made a successful run to Bermuda. The Flora was considered too slow and sent back to England. I then joined the Index, commanded by Captain Marshall, and made several successful voyages on her, but she too was condemned as too slow and was returned to Glasgow.

"I had a thrilling adventure on this ship on a homeward voyage, when, for the first time in all my experience, we made land opposite Bald Head Light on Frying Pan Shoals. As we were coming around to New Inlet we fell in with a Federal cruiser, so close when we discovered her that we could easily discern the maneuvers of the men on deck. She seemed to have anchors weighed, and was moving about and could easily have captured us, and we were at a loss to understand why she did not fire into us. Some of our people decided that she wished to secure us as a prize without injury, as she steamed alongside of us for miles and all at once put her helm hard down and went close under our stern and attempted to go between us and the shoals. I remember the remark of our pilot, Tom Grissom, to Captain Marshall: 'If she follows us on that course I will wreck her before we reach the inlet.'

"The cruiser had only steamed half a mile or so, when she suddenly passed from view, and in a few moments a rocket went up near where we last saw her, which was repeated at short intervals. After a few minutes, rockets could be seen going up from the whole squadron and there was evidently a great commotion among them on account of our pursuer, who seemed suddenly to have got into serious trouble. We passed through the inlet without further molestation, as the entire fleet had centered their attention upon the unfortunate cruiser which had suddenly gone down. When morning dawned, it revealed the Federal cruiser hard and fast on the reef, with the other vessels of the squadron working manfully to relieve her. Colonel Lamb went down to the extreme point with his Whitworth guns and opened fire on her. A month or so afterwards, while in Bermuda, I saw a spirited sketch of the whole affair in Frank Leslie's Illustrated News, giving an account of the wreck, and of an investigation of the conduct of the officers in charge. I think the vessel was the gun-boat Petrel.

"After the Index was sent back to Glasgow, Captain Marshall took charge of the steamer Rouen and I joined her as signal officer. We loaded our cargo and started for Wilmington, and on the third day out sighted a steamer about one o'clock p.m. This ship proved to be the U.S.S. Keystone State, which captured us after a hot chase of six hours. We were all transferred to the Margaret and Jessie, a former blockade runner which had been captured and utilized as a cruiser. We were taken to New York and confined in the Tombs Prison. Subsequently, all the officers and crew were discharged except four of us, and we were transferred to the Ludlow Street Jail for further investigation. After six weeks' imprisonment we succeeded in effecting our escape through the medium of English gold, after which we went down to East River and found an old barque loaded with staves and hay for St. Thomas. Each one of us gave the captain $25 in gold with the understanding that he would sail by St. George, Bermuda, and land us there. We reached this place after several weeks to find it devastated by yellow fever. Many personal friends died of this scourge, among whom was our lamented purser of the Index, Mr. Robert Williams, a well-known native of Wilmington, much beloved for his superior personal qualities.

"I then made one voyage in the Owl, which became famous under the command of Capt. John Newland Maffitt. After this I joined the new steel steamer Susan Beirne, commanded by Captain Martin, of which my old friend and shipmate James Sprunt was purser. After a very hazardous voyage in this ship, during which we weathered a fearful gale, and although we came very near foundering, we returned to Nassau to learn from Captain Maffitt of the steamer Owl, which had just arrived, that the last port of the Confederacy had been closed, and that the war was practically over.

"A small party of almost reckless Confederates, composed of our chief engineer, Mr. Lockhart; our second engineer, Mr. Carroll; our purser, Mr. James Sprunt, and the purser of another steamer in port, Maj. William Green, bought the steam launch belonging to our ship, a boat about forty feet in length and six feet breadth of beam, and made a perilous voyage by way of Green Turtle Cay to Cape Canaveral, Fla., where they landed in the surf after a two weeks' voyage, and proceeding on foot 175 miles to Ocala, Fla., succeeded in evading the Federal pickets and sentries at various points along the route and at last reached Wilmington, having occupied about two months on the way.

"I chose an easier and more agreeable route and proceeded via New York to visit some relatives in Indiana and returned later to North Carolina to find peace restored to our unhappy and desolated country."

CAPTAIN JOHN NEWLAND MAFFITT.

Among that devoted band of United States Navy officers whose home and kindred were in the South at the outbreak of the War, and who resigned their commissions rather than aid in subjugating their native State, there was none braver than our own Capt. John Newland Maffitt, who, yielding to necessity, severed the strong ties of service under the old flag in which he had long distinguished himself, and relinquished not only a conspicuous position directly in line of speedy promotion to the rank of admiral, but sacrificed at the same time his entire fortune, which was invested in the North and which was confiscated shortly afterwards by the United States Government.

After the capture of the forts and the closing of the ports of Wilmington and Charleston in January, 1865, Maffitt, in command of the steamer Owl and unaware of the situation, ran into each port in quick succession, escaping from the fleet in each exploit as by a miracle, although under a heavy and destructive fire. While running out of Charleston Harbor when escape seemed impossible, his entire history of the cruise of the Florida, which he had so long successfully commanded, was, by an unfortunate misunderstanding on the part of a subordinate, sent to the bottom of the sea, along with the Confederate mail and other valuable papers. Captain Maffitt, gifted with the pen of a ready writer, left many valuable accounts of his adventures, among them a story of naval life in the old service entitled "Nautilus," and a number of articles for the Army and Navy Magazine under the title "Reminiscences of the Confederate States Navy." His paper on the building of the ram Albemarle by Captain Cooke, and that gallant officer's subsequent attack upon the Federal fleet in Plymouth Sound, which is copied entire by Colonel Scharf in his history of the Confederate Navy, has been pronounced one of the finest descriptions of the Civil War. It was my privilege to be numbered among his personal friends from the time he honored me, a lad of seventeen years, with his recommendation for the appointment as purser of his own ship, the Confederate steamer Lilian, which was confirmed just before he gave up the command to take charge of the Confederate ram Albemarle at Plymouth; and this friendship was unbroken until the close of his eventful life, the sacrifices and services of which should ever be held in grateful remembrance by our Southern people.

In the year after my appointment to the Lilian, I had the misfortune to be captured at sea after an exciting chase of five hours by the Federal cruisers Keystone State, Boston, Gettysburg, and two others unknown, in which our ship was disabled under a heavy fire by shot below the water line, and was held a prisoner on board the U.S.S. Keystone State, whose commander, Captain Crosby, a regular in the old Navy, treated me most courteously. Upon the invitation of the paymaster, I messed with the superior officers in the wardroom, where I heard frequent bitter allusions to Captain Semmes and other prominent Confederates, but never a word of censure for the genial Maffitt, the mention of whose name would provoke a kindly and amused smile as some of his pranks in the old times would be recalled by those who had not learned to regard him as a foe.

The following passages, taken from Admiral Porter's Naval History of the Civil War, confirm the personal observations of the writer with reference to Maffitt's reputation in the old Navy:

"Maffitt was a different man from Semmes. A thorough master of his profession, and possessed of all the qualities that make a favorite naval commander, he became a successful raider of the sea; but he made no enemies among those officers who had once known him and who now missed his genial humor in their messes. He was a veritable rover, but was never inhumane to those whom the fortunes of war threw into his hands, and he made himself as pleasant while emptying a ship of her cargo and then scuttling her, as Claude Duval when robbing a man of his purse or borrowing his watch from his pocket."

Porter then describes in almost flattering terms Maffitt's superior skill and daring in fitting out the Florida under most adverse conditions, and then by way of explanation says:

"It may appear to the reader that we have exhibited more sympathy for Commander Maffitt and given him more credit than he deserved; it must be remembered that we are endeavoring to write a naval history of the war, and not a partisan work. This officer, it is true, had gone from under the flag we venerate to fight against it; but we know it was a sore trial for him to leave the service to which he was attached and that he believed he was doing his duty in following the fortunes of his State, and had the courage to follow his convictions. He did not leave the U.S. Navy with any bitterness, and when the troubles were all over, he accepted the situation gracefully. What we are going to state of him shows that he was capable of the greatest heroism, and that, though he was on the side of the enemy, his courage and skill were worthy of praise."

He then recounts the wonderful story of Maffitt's perilous run through Commander Preble's fleet in broad daylight, with a crew decimated by yellow fever, and he himself scarcely able to stand from its prostrating effects.

"The Florida approached rapidly, her smoke pipes vomiting forth volumes of black smoke and a high press of steam escaping from her steam pipe. As she came within hailing distance, the Federal commander ordered her to heave to, but Maffitt still sped on, having sent all his men below, except the man at the wheel, and returned to reply to the hail. Preble then fired a shot ahead of the Florida, still supposing her to be some saucy Englishman disposed to try what liberties he could take, though the absence of men on deck should have excited suspicion. He hesitated, however, and hesitation lost him a prize and the honor of capturing one of the Confederate scourges of the ocean. Preble had his crew at quarters, however, and as soon as he saw that the stranger was passing him he opened his broadside upon her and the other two blockaders did the same. But the first shots were aimed too high, and the Florida sped on toward the bar, her feeble crew forgetting their sickness and heaping coal upon the furnace fires with all possible rapidity. Every man was working for his life, while the captain stood amid the storm of shot and shell perfectly unmoved, keenly watching the marks for entering the port and wondering to himself what his chances were for getting in.

"During the whole war there was not a more exciting adventure than this escape of the Florida into Mobile Bay. The gallant manner in which it was conducted excited great admiration, even among the men who were responsible for permitting it. We do not suppose that there was ever a case where a man, under all the attending circumstances, displayed more energy or more bravery.

"And so the Florida was allowed to go on her way without molestation, and Maffitt was enabled to commence that career on the high seas which has made his name one of the notable ones of the war. He lighted the seas wherever he passed along, and committed such havoc among American merchantmen, that, if possible, he was even more dreaded than Semmes. We have only to say that his being permitted to escape into Mobile Bay and then to get out again was the greatest example of blundering committed throughout the war. Every officer who knew Maffitt was certain that he would attempt to get out of Mobile, and we are forced to say that those who permitted his escape are responsible for the terrible consequences of their want of vigilance and energy."

Preble's failure to sink the Florida—for nothing else would have stopped Maffitt—brought him into disgrace with the Navy Department, although he proved in his report of the affair that every means at his command had been used to intercept the bold Confederate, and shortly afterwards the Secretary of the Navy, supported by a majority of naval officers, recommended the dismissal of Commodore Preble from the Navy, which was carried into effect September 20, 1863.

Preble repeatedly demanded an investigation, which was refused, but he ultimately got his case before Congress and was restored to the list February 21, 1864, with the grade of rear admiral.

At the close of the war Captain Maffitt was summoned by a court of inquiry demanded by Preble to testify as to the facts of his exploit in entering Mobile Bay, in which he said:

"I can vouch for his (Preble's) promptness and destructive energy on the occasion of my entering Mobile Bay. The superior speed of the Florida alone saved her from destruction, though not from a frightful mauling. We were torn to pieces—one man's head taken off and eleven wounded; boats, standing and running rigging shot away, also fore gaff. Four shells struck our hull and had the one (9-inch) that grazed our boiler and entered the berth deck, killing one and wounding two, exploded every man belonging to the steamer would have been killed, as I had only the officers on deck until about to cross the bar, when I made some sail, and one man was wounded in the rigging. We had about 1,400 shrapnel shots in our hull, and our masts were pitted like a case of smallpox. The damage done her was so great that we did not get to sea again for over three months."

The last voyage of Captain Maffitt was made on the Owl, which he boarded at Wilmington the 21st of December, 1864, receiving her cargo of 750 bales of cotton. With three other blockade runners in company he started for the bar. He escaped the Federal sentinels "without the loss of a rope yarn," though one of his companions came to grief through an accident to machinery. Their destination was St. George, Bermuda, which they reached in safety, finding several steamers loaded and anxiously awaiting news from the Federal expedition under General Butler against Fort Fisher. Through a Halifax steamer the Northern papers apprised them of the failure of the expedition, and in company with six other steamers and many gallant spirits, the Owl started on her return to Dixie, all cheered by the joyful news.

In the meantime another expedition against Fort Fisher had been fitted out under General Terry and Admiral Porter, which had been successful, and the river was in possession of the Federals.

Communicating with Lockwood's Folly, where they reported all quiet and Fisher intact, Captain Maffitt steamed for the Cape Fear. At eight o'clock it was high water on the bar, and the moon would not rise before eleven. Approaching the channel, he was surprised to see but one sentinel guarding the entrance. Eluding him, he passed in. Some apprehension was excited by a conflagration at Bald Head and no response to his signals, but as Fort Caswell looked natural and quiet, he decided to anchor off the fort wharf. He was immediately interviewed by the chief of ordnance and artillery, E.S. Martin, and another officer, who informed him of the state of affairs, and that the train was already laid for the blowing up of Fort Caswell. Gunboats were approaching, and in great distress Captain Maffitt hastily departed. A solitary blockader pursued him furiously for some time, and far at sea he heard the explosion that announced the fate of Caswell. As his cargo was important and much needed, Captain Maffitt determined to make an effort to enter the port of Charleston, although he had been informed that it was more closely guarded than ever before.

Many attempts were made to overhaul his vessel as he made his way into the harbor, but it was only necessary to stir up the fire draft a bit to start off with truly admirable speed that enabled him to outdistance his pursuers. Anticipating a trying night and the bare possibility of capture, the captain had two bags slung and suspended over the quarter by a stout line. In these bags were placed the Government mail not yet delivered, all private correspondence and the captain's war journal in which was the cruise of the Florida. An intelligent quartermaster was instructed to stand by the bags with a hatchet, and to cut them adrift the moment capture became inevitable.

The following is a description of what happened in Captain Maffitt's own words:

"When on the western tail end of Rattlesnake Shoal, we encountered streaks of mist and fog that enveloped stars and everything for a few moments, when it would become quite clear again. Running cautiously in one of these obscurations, a sudden lift in the haze disclosed that we were about to run into an anchored blockader. We had bare room with a hard-a-port helm to avoid him some fifteen or twenty feet, when their officer on deck called out: 'Heave to, or I'll sink you.' The order was unnoticed, and we received his entire broadside, which cut away turtleback, perforated forecastle, and tore up bulwarks in front of our engine room, wounding twelve men, some severely, some slightly. The quartermaster stationed by the mail bags was so convinced that we were captured that he instantly used his hatchet, and sent them, well moored, to the bottom. Hence my meager account of the cruise of the Florida. Rockets were fired as we passed swiftly out of his range of sight, and Drummond lights lit up the animated surroundings of a swarm of blockaders, who commenced an indiscriminate discharge of artillery. We could not understand the reason of this bombardment, and as we picked our way out of the mêlée, concluded that several blockade runners must have been discovered feeling their way into Charleston.

"After the war, in conversing with the officer commanding on that occasion, he said that a number of the steamers of the blockade were commanded by inexperienced volunteer officers, who were sometimes overzealous and excitable, and hearing the gunboats firing into me, and seeing her rockets and signal lights, they thought that innumerable blockade runners were forcing a passage into the harbor, hence the indiscriminate discharge of artillery, which was attended with unfortunate results to them. This was my last belligerent association with blockade running. Entering the harbor of Charleston, and finding it in the possession of the Federals, I promptly checked progress and retreated. The last order issued by the Navy Department, when all hope for the cause had departed, was for me to deliver the Owl to Frazier, Trenholme & Co., in Liverpool, which I accordingly did."

CAPTAIN MAFFITT AND THE CONSUL.

The following story was told me by the veteran blockade runner George C. McDougal:

"When the Yankees ran the Kate out of New Smyrna, Fla., we had to run across light and leave Capt. Thomas Lockwood, who had gone to Charleston, behind. The command devolved on Mr. Carlin, first officer. We got the ship into Nassau Saturday night. On the following day, Sunday, the British mail steamer appeared off Nassau with the new Governor of the Bahamas on board, but owing to a heavy sea on the bar she could not cross, and accordingly ran down to the west end of the island and to smoother water in order to land the Governor. During the day a number of prominent inhabitants of Nassau came aboard the Kate and asked if the captain would go down to the west end and bring the Governor up. Captain Carlin told them that they were quite welcome to the ship if she could be got ready in time, which would depend upon the chief engineer. He immediately consulted with me and we decided that as the people of Nassau had been very kind to us, the Kate being a favorite, we would try to accommodate them at once. As we had arrived after midnight on Saturday, and, not wishing to work on Sunday, we had not blown the boilers out. The water was hot, and I told the captain I would be ready in an hour's time or less. I started the fires immediately and in a few minutes the committee went on shore to gather their friends and to send off refreshments. In a short time gunboats began to crowd alongside with the aforesaid refreshments, both solid and liquid, the latter as usual predominating in the shape of cases of champagne, brandy, etc.

"When the guests were all on board we hove up the anchor and faced the bar. A tremendous sea was running, and at times our topgallant forecastle was under water. We worked out, however, and hauled down the coast for the west end. In a short time the refreshments began to work on the company, especially on the mate. Captain Carlin being afraid that the small anchor would not hold the ship, ordered the mate to get the large anchor from between decks to the gangway, carry the chain from the hawse pipe along the side of the ship by tricing lines and shackle it to the anchor. I noticed that the mate was almost incapable from the aforesaid refreshments, and I said to him, 'You will lose that anchor,' to which he replied, 'I know what I am about.' Presently the ship took a roll down into the trough of the sea, and overboard went the anchor. When it struck bottom the ship was going twelve or fourteen miles an hour and the sudden jerk started the chain around the windlass, and the way that seventy fathoms of chain flew around the windlass and out of the hawse pipe made the fire fly. It looked as if half a dozen flashes of lightning were playing hide and seek between the decks. With a crack like a pistol shot the weather bitting parted and the end of the chain went out of the hawse pipe to look for the anchor.

"We soon made the bay at the west end and ran alongside the mail steamer and let go our anchor, but found to our disappointment that the Governor had gone to town in a carriage sent for him by the officials. After spending a pleasant hour in exchanging visits between the officers of the two steamers, our guests in the meantime partaking of refreshments, we hove up the anchor and started back toward Nassau.

"Among our passengers was the gallant Capt. John N. Maffitt, who was then waiting at Nassau to get the Oreto, afterwards named the Florida, out of irons. We had also Captain Whiting, the American consul at Nassau, who asked permission to go down to the steamer to get his dispatches, which was not denied him, although this man was greatly disliked not only by Confederate sympathizers but by the natives, having, as the Irishman said, winning ways to make everybody hate him. During the run back the consul, overcome by his numerous potations, lay down with his dispatches and was soon asleep. When we aroused him at our destination the dispatches were missing, whereupon he accused Maffitt of stealing them, resulting in a grand row all round. The dispatches were restored to him on the following day, their disappearance being caused by a practical joke on the part of the Confederates. We delivered our passengers in a very shaky condition.

"On Monday morning, having turned out bright and early to start work, our attention was attracted to the shore by a noisy and excited group of negroes gathered around the flagstaff of the American consul, gesticulating and pointing to the top of the flagstaff, from which, to my astonishment, was flying a brand new Confederate flag. It soon appeared that some one, said to be a Confederate sympathizer, and whom every one believed to be Maffitt, who was always ready for a joke, had climbed the flagstaff during the night, carrying up with him a Confederate flag and a bucket of slush. The halyards were first unrove, next the Confederate flag was nailed to the staff, and last of all as the joker descended, he slushed the staff all the way to the ground, making it impossible for any one to ascend to remove the ensign which was so hateful to our friend the consul. When Whiting came down to the consulate after breakfast and took in the situation, he performed a war dance around that pole which was one of the most interesting spectacles ever witnessed by the Confederates in Nassau. He then employed a number of Her Majesty's colored subjects with cans of concentrated lye to remove the slush, and, after great difficulty, one of them succeeded in reaching the top of the staff and removed the Confederate flag, replacing the halyards as before; but this was not the last of it. On the following morning a United States man-of-war appeared off the harbor, and when the consul in full official rig took his seat in the stern of his gig he found on reaching the cruiser that he was hard and fast by the nether extremities, some North Carolina tar having been previously applied by the aforesaid Confederate sympathizer to the seat of his gig. Of course these annoyances created a great deal of feeling, and a down-east shipmaster, desiring to show his spite, made a fool of himself by hoisting the American flag over the British flag, the latter being union down, intending it as an insult, of course, which was immediately noticed on shore, and in a short time several thousand shouting, howling British negroes were lining the water front looking for boats and threatening to drown the American captain who had taken such a liberty with their beloved flag. Before they could carry out their purpose, however, a man-of-war's launch shot out from the British gunboat Bulldog with a file of marines, and, boarding the brig, ordered the flags hauled down and the English flag detached, took the captain in the launch and pulled to the government wharf and immediately shoved him into the calaboose, from which confinement he was not released until the next day, with the admonition that if he remained on board his ship he would have no need of a surgeon. He took the hint and was seen no more on shore.

"On Thursday we were bound for the northwest channel with our regulation cargo of 1,000 barrels of gunpowder and arms and accouterments for 10,000 men. We ran into Charleston on Saturday night and on Sunday morning the Confederate quartermaster pressed every horse and dray in Charleston to haul the cargo to the railroad station. The congregations of the churches along Meeting and King Streets probably derived very little benefit from the sermons delivered that sacred day, as the roar of the drays and wagons was incessant all day Sunday and Sunday night. As fast as a train was loaded it was started out for Johnston's army, and a conductor of a train told me afterwards that the soldiers broke open the cases of rifles on the cars and distributed the firearms and accouterments from the car doors. It may be said that the Kate was a most important factor in the battle of Shiloh. Johnston's army was a mass of undisciplined men with single and double barrel shotguns, old time rifles, and anything else in the way of firearms that they could bring from home. They had nothing suitable to fight with. The three cargoes of war stores, therefore, carried in by the Kate, one by the Mary Celeste to Smyrna and the fourth cargo carried by the Kate into Charleston, actually equipped Johnston's army, immediately after which came the battle of Shiloh. One thousand barrels of gunpowder was a dangerous shipment to run through the Federal blockade, and it was a great relief to us when the Confederacy established powder mills in Georgia, and our powder cargoes were changed to niter for the mills."

CAPTAIN JOHN WILKINSON.

One of the most intelligent and successful commanders of the blockade-running fleet was Capt. John Wilkinson, who entered the United States Navy as a midshipman in 1837, and, after an honorable and distinguished career, tendered his services upon the secession of his native State, Virginia, to the Confederacy.

Having received a commission in the Confederate States Navy, he served in various responsible positions until ordered upon special service in command of the Confederate States steamer R.E. Lee.

In his interesting book entitled Narrative of a Blockade Runner, speaking of the citizens of Virginia who resigned their commissions in the old service, he says:

"They were compelled to choose whether they would aid in subjugating their State or in defending it against invasion; for it was already evident that coercion would be used by the General Government, and that war was inevitable. In reply to the accusation of perjury in breaking their oath of allegiance, since brought against the officers of the Army and Navy who resigned their commissions to render aid to the South, it need only be stated that, in their belief, the resignation of their commissions absolved them from any special obligation. They then occupied the same position toward the Government as other classes of citizens. But this charge was never brought against them till the war was ended. The resignation of their commissions was accepted when their purpose was well known. As to the charge of ingratitude, they reply, their respective States had contributed their full share toward the expenses of the General Government, acting as their disbursing agent, and when these States withdrew from the Union their citizens belonging to the two branches of the public service did not, and do not, consider themselves amenable to this charge for abandoning their official positions to cast their lot with their kindred and friends. But yielding as they did to necessity, it was, nevertheless, a painful act to separate themselves from companions with whom they had been long and intimately associated, and from the flag under which they had been proud to serve."

With reference to his experience in blockade running at Wilmington Captain Wilkinson continues:

"The natural advantages of Wilmington for blockade running were very great, chiefly owing to the fact that there were two separate and distinct approaches to Cape Fear River; i.e., either by New Inlet, to the north of Smith's Island, or by the Western Bar to the south of it. This island is ten or eleven miles in length; but the Frying Pan Shoals extend ten or twelve miles farther south, making the distance by sea between the two bars thirty miles or more, although the direct distance between them is only six or seven miles. From Smithville (now Southport), a little village nearly equidistant from either bar, both blockading fleets could be distinctly seen, and the outward-bound blockade runners could take their choice through which of them to run the gauntlet. The inward-bound blockade runners, too, were guided by circumstances of wind and weather, selecting that bar over which they could cross after they had passed the Gulf Stream, and shaping their course accordingly. The approaches to both bars were clear of danger with the single exception of the 'Lump,' before mentioned; and so regular are the soundings that the shore can be coasted for miles within a stone's throw of the breakers.

"These facts explain why the United States fleet was unable wholly to stop blockade running. It was, indeed, impossible to do so; the result to the very close of the war proves this assertion, for, in spite of the vigilance of the fleet, many blockade runners were afloat when Fort Fisher was captured. In truth the passage through the fleet was little dreaded; for although the blockade runner might receive a shot or two, she was rarely disabled; and in proportion to the increase of the fleet the greater would be the danger, we knew, of their firing into each other. As the boys before the deluge used to say, they would be very apt to 'miss the cow and kill the calf.' The chief danger was upon the open sea, many of the light cruisers having great speed. As soon as one of them discovered a blockade runner during daylight, she would attract other cruisers in the vicinity by sending up a dense column of smoke, visible for many miles in clear weather. A cordon of fast steamers stationed ten or fifteen miles apart, inside the Gulf Stream, and in the course from Nassau and Bermuda to Wilmington and Charleston, would have been more effectual in stopping blockade running than the whole United States Navy concentrated off those ports; and it was unaccountable to us why such a plan did not occur to good Mr. Welles; but it was not our place to suggest it. I have no doubt, however, that the fraternity to which I then belonged would have unanimously voted thanks and a service of plate to the Honorable Secretary of the United States Navy for this oversight. I say inside the Gulf Stream, because every experienced captain of a blockade runner made a point to cross the stream early enough in the afternoon, if possible, to establish the ship's position by chronometer, so as to escape the influence of that current upon his dead reckoning. The lead always gave indication of our distance from the land, but not, of course, of our position; and the numerous salt works along the coast, where evaporation was produced by fire, and which were at work night and day, were visible long before the low coast could be seen. Occasionally the whole inward voyage would be made under adverse conditions. Cloudy, thick weather and heavy gales would prevail so as to prevent any solar or lunar observations, and reduce the dead reckoning to mere guesswork. In these cases the nautical knowledge and judgment of the captain would be taxed to the utmost. The current of the Gulf Stream varies in velocity and (within certain limits) in direction; and the stream itself, almost as well defined as a river within its banks under ordinary circumstances, is impelled by a strong gale toward the direction in which the wind is blowing, overflowing its banks, as it were. The countercurrent, too, inside of the Gulf Stream, is much influenced by the prevailing winds. Upon one occasion while in command of the R.E. Lee, formerly the Clyde-built iron steamer Giraffe, we had experienced very heavy and thick weather, and had crossed the stream and struck soundings about midday. The weather then clearing, so that we could obtain an altitude near meridian, we found ourselves at least forty miles north of our supposed position, and near the shoals which extend in a southerly direction off Cape Lookout. It would be more perilous to run out to sea than to continue on our course, for we had passed through the offshore line of blockaders, and the sky had become perfectly clear. I determined to personate a transport bound to Beaufort, which was in the possession of the United States forces and the coaling station of the fleet blockading Wilmington. The risk of detection was not very great, for many of the captured blockade runners were used as transports and dispatch vessels. Shaping our course for Beaufort and slowing down as if we were in no haste to get there, we passed several vessels, showing United States colors to them all. Just as we were crossing through the ripple of shallow water off the 'tail' of the shoals, we dipped our colors to a sloop of war which passed three or four miles to the south of us. The courtesy was promptly responded to, but I have no doubt her captain thought me a lubberly and careless seaman to shave the shoals so closely. We stopped the engines when no vessel was in sight, and I was relieved of a heavy burden of anxiety as the sun sank below the horizon, and the course was shaped at full speed for Masonboro Inlet.

"The staid old town of Wilmington was turned 'topsy turvey' during the war. Here resorted the speculators from all parts of the South to attend the weekly auctions of imported cargoes; and the town was infested with rogues and desperadoes, who made a livelihood by robbery and murder. It was unsafe to venture into the suburbs at night, and even in daylight there were frequent conflicts in the public streets between the crews of the steamers in port and the soldiers stationed in the town, in which knives and pistols would be freely used; and not unfrequently a dead body would rise to the surface of the water in one of the docks with marks of violence upon it. The civil authorities were powerless to prevent crime. 'Inter arma silent leges!' The agents and employees of different blockade-running companies lived in magnificent style, paying a king's ransom (in Confederate money) for their household expenses, and nearly monopolizing the supplies in the country market. Toward the end of the war, indeed, fresh provisions were almost beyond the reach of everyone. Our family servant, newly arrived from the country in Virginia, would sometimes return from market with an empty basket, having flatly refused to pay what he called 'such nonsense prices' for a bit of fresh beef, or a handful of vegetables. A quarter of lamb at the time of which I now write, sold for $100, a pound of tea for $500. Confederate money which in September, 1861, was nearly equal to specie in value, had declined in September, 1862, to 225; in the same month, in 1863, to 400, and before September, 1864, to 2,000!

"Many of the permanent residents of the town had gone into the country, letting their houses at enormous prices; those who were compelled to remain kept themselves much secluded, the ladies rarely being seen upon the more public streets. Many of the fast young officers belonging to the Army would get an occasional leave to come to Wilmington, and would live at free quarters on board the blockade runners or at one of the numerous bachelor halls ashore.

"The convalescent soldiers from the Virginia hospitals were sent by the route through Wilmington to their homes in the South. The ladies of the town were organized by Mrs. DeRosset into a society for the purpose of ministering to the wants of these poor sufferers, the trains which carried them stopping an hour or two at the depot, that their wounds might be dressed and food and medicine supplied to them. These self-sacrificing, heroic women patiently and faithfully performed the offices of hospital nurses.

"Liberal contributions were made by companies and individuals to this society, and the long tables at the depot were spread with delicacies for the sick to be found nowhere else in the Confederacy. The remains of the meals were carried by the ladies to a camp of mere boys—home guards outside of the town. Some of these children were scarcely able to carry a musket and were altogether unable to endure the exposure and fatigue of field service; and they suffered fearfully from measles and typhoid fever. General Grant used a strong figure of speech when he asserted that 'the cradle and the grave were robbed to recruit the Confederate armies.' The fact of a fearful drain upon the population was scarcely exaggerated, but with this difference in the metaphor, that those who were verging upon both the cradle and the grave shared the hardships and dangers of war with equal self-devotion to the cause. It is true that a class of heartless speculators infested the country, who profited by the scarcity of all sorts of supplies, but it makes the self-sacrifice of the mass of the Southern people more conspicuous, and no State made more liberal voluntary contributions to the armies or furnished better soldiers than North Carolina.

"On the opposite side of the river from Wilmington, on a low marshy flat, were erected the steam cotton presses, and there the blockade runners took in their cargoes. Sentries were posted on the wharves day and night to prevent deserters from getting aboard and stowing themselves away; and the additional precaution of fumigating outward-bound steamers at Smithville was adopted, but in spite of this vigilance, many persons succeeded in getting a free passage aboard. These deserters, or 'stowaways,' were in most instances sheltered by one or more of the crew, in which event they kept their places of concealment until the steamer had arrived at her port of destination, when they would profit by the first opportunity to leave the vessel undiscovered. A small bribe would tempt the average blockade-running sailor to connive at this means of escape. The impecunious deserter fared more hardly and would usually be forced by hunger or thirst to emerge from his hiding place while the steamer was on the outward voyage. A cruel device employed by one of the captains effectually put a stop, I believe, certainly a check, to the escape of this class of 'stowaways.' He turned three or four of them adrift in the Gulf Stream in an open boat with a pair of oars and a few days' allowance of bread and water."

Colonel Scharf, writing of the Confederate States Navy, mentions the shore lights: "At the beginning of the war," he says, "nearly all the lights along the Southern coast had been discontinued, the apparatus being removed to places of safety. In 1864 it was deemed expedient to re-establish the light on Smith's Island, which had been discontinued ever since the beginning of hostilities, and to erect a structure for a light on the 'Mound.' The 'Mound' was an artificial one, erected by Colonel Lamb, who commanded Fort Fisher." Captain Wilkinson says of the "Mound" and the range lights: "Two heavy guns were mounted upon it, and it eventually became a site for a light, and very serviceable for blockade runners; but even at this period it was an excellent landmark. Joined by a long, low isthmus of sand with the higher mainland, its regular conical shape enabled the blockade runners easily to identify it from the offing; and in clear weather, it showed plain and distinct against the sky at night. I believe the military men used to laugh slyly at the colonel for undertaking its erection, predicting that it would not stand; but the result showed the contrary; and whatever difference of opinion may have existed with regard to its value as a military position, there can be but one as to its utility to the blockade runners, for it was not a landmark alone, along this monotonous coast, but one of the range lights for crossing New Inlet Bar was placed on it. Seamen will appreciate at its full value this advantage; but it may be stated for the benefit of the unprofessional reader, that while the compass bearing of an object does not enable a pilot to steer a vessel with sufficient accuracy through a narrow channel, range lights answer the purpose completely. These lights were only set after signals had been exchanged between the blockade runner and the shore station, and were removed immediately after the vessel had entered the river. The range lights were changed as circumstances required; for the New Inlet Channel itself was and is constantly changing, being materially affected both in depth of water and in its course by a heavy gale of wind or a severe freshet in Cape Fear River."

A NORMAL BLOCKADING EXPERIENCE.

Probably one of the quickest and most uneventful voyages made during the war in running the blockade was that made by Capt. C.G. Smith, of Southport. The following story on the blockade was told by Captain Smith, and is published to show the contrast between what some of the blockade runners had to undergo and how easy it was at other times to make the round trip without hindrance or adventure:

"On a delightful day, about the first of May, 1863, I left Nassau as pilot on the fine side-wheel steamer Margaret and Jessie, Captain Wilson in command.

"The Margaret and Jessie was at that time regarded as one of the fastest steamers. Of about 800 tons, this steamer when in ballast could make fifteen miles an hour, but of course she was usually loaded down, therefore seldom doing better than ten knots while running the blockade.

"Passing out from Nassau with a general cargo of goods, bound for Wilmington, N.C., the first twenty-four hours were passed without incident, the steamer making a good passage, until a gale from the northeast met us, which lasted till noon of the third day out.

"When the wind had lessened somewhat, Captain Wilson came to me and asked what point of land I wanted to make, to which I replied that I intended to run in at the Western Bar of the Cape Fear. Finding it an impossibility on account of the weather to make the Western Bar before daylight, I made for Masonboro and came in at New Inlet, anchoring abreast of the mound battery which guarded this approach at about 11 o'clock at night, and at daylight, with a fair tide, ran up to Wilmington.

"Nothing in the shape of a blockader disturbed our voyage. At one time a steamer was seen east-southeast of us, but paid no attention to us. When at Masonboro, one of the blockading squadron went to the southeastward of us, but being under the lee of the land she could not make us out.

"After laying up in Wilmington about ten days, discharging our cargo and taking on a load of cotton, we quietly dropped down the river one morning, and, anchoring in five-fathom hole, waited until night, when we passed out of New Inlet, bound for Nassau.

"The return trip was made without incident of any kind, the weather was fine, not a vessel of any description could be seen on the voyage; and in fifty-two hours from the time of leaving the Cape Fear, we were safe at the dock at Nassau, discharging our cargo, making one of the quickest and safest passages ever made by any of the blockade runners."

CAPTAIN JOSEPH FRY.

In the year 1841, a winsome, honest lad who had determined to join the Navy of his country, and who had been thwarted in his purpose by friends at home, made his way alone from Florida to Washington and demanded his right to speak to the President, which was not denied him.

Mr. Tyler was so pleased by the youthful manliness of the little chap, who was only eight years old, that he invited him to dine at the White House on the following day. The young Floridian was the observed of all observers; members of the Cabinet and their wives, members of Congress and officers of the Navy had heard of the little lad's story, and all united in espousing his patriotic cause.

The President, won by his ardor as well as by his gentlemanly and modest behavior, granted the boy's request and immediately signed his warrant as a midshipman in the United States Navy.

The subsequent record of Capt. Joseph Fry, the Christian gentleman, the gallant sailor, the humane commander, the chivalrous soldier, is known to readers of American history. Of heroic mould and dignified address, he was

"A combination and a form indeed, Where every god did seem to set his seal To give the world assurance of a man."

When the Civil War came, it found him among the most beloved and honored officers in the service. The trial of his faith was bitter but brief. He could not fight against his home and loved ones, much as he honored the flag which he had so long and faithfully cherished. He was a Southerner, and with many pangs of sincere regret he went with his native State for weal or woe.

His personal bravery during the war was wonderful; he never performed deeds of valor under temporary excitement, but acted with such coolness and daring as to command the admiration of superiors and inferiors alike. He was severely wounded at the battle of White River, and while on sick leave was ordered, at his own request, to command the Confederate blockade runner Eugénie, upon which the writer made a voyage.

On one occasion the Eugénie grounded outside of Fort Fisher while trying to run through the fleet in daylight. The ship was loaded with gunpowder, the Federal fleet was firing upon her, the risk of immediate death and destruction to crew and ship was overwhelming. Fry was ordered by Colonel Lamb to abandon the vessel and save his crew from death by explosion. He accordingly told all who wished to go to do so, but as for himself, he would stand by the ship and try to save the powder, which was greatly needed by the Confederate Government. Several boatloads of his men retreated to the fort; a few remained with Fry, the enemy's shells flying thick and fast around them. In the face of this great danger, Fry lightened his ship, and upon the swelling tide brought vessel and cargo safely in.

Later on he commanded the steamer Agnes E. Fry, named in honor of his devoted wife. In this ship he made three successful voyages, after which she was unfortunately run ashore by her pilot and lies not far distant from the Virginius. Captain Fry was then placed in active service during the remainder of the war in command of the Confederate gunboat Morgan and was highly complimented by his general, Dabney H. Maury, for conspicuous bravery in action.

After the war his fortunes underwent many changes. Several undertakings met with varying success or failure. At last, he went to New York in July, 1873, where he hoped to secure employment in command of an ocean steamer. There he was introduced to General Quesada, agent of the Cuban Republic, who offered him the command of the steamer Virginius, then lying in the harbor of Kingston, Jamaica. He accepted the offer, and received a month's pay in advance, $150, two-thirds of which he sent to his needy family, and reserved the remainder for his personal outfit. The Virginius, originally named Virgin, was built in Scotland in 1864 and was specially designed for a blockade runner in the Confederate service. She made several successful trips between Havana and Mobile. Being shut up in the latter port, she was used by the Confederates as a dispatch and transport steamer. For a time after the war she was used by the Federal Government in the United States Revenue Service, but proving unsatisfactory, owing to her great consumption of coal, was sold at public auction by the United States Treasury Department to an American firm. The owners in 1870 took out American papers in legal form and cleared her for Venezuela. From that time she was used in carrying volunteers and supplies to Cuba; and while engaged in this business under the American flag, recognized by American consuls as an American vessel, she was overhauled at sea on the 31st of October, 1873, by the Spanish man-of-war Tornado and declared a prize to the Spanish Government. Fry never dreamed of greater danger; he occupied the same position he had assumed while running the Federal blockade and the same as in the recent cases of the Commodore and the Bermuda. He was a merchantman, carried no guns, made no armed resistance, and flew the American flag. Notwithstanding all this, a drumhead court martial was held on board the Tornado and on the second day afterwards the unfortunate victims were condemned as pirates and sentenced to immediate execution at Santiago de Cuba, where the Spanish warship had arrived. Even then Captain Fry and his crew, who were nearly all Americans, expected a release through the intervention of the United States authorities. Vain hope! The American consul was absent; the vice-consul did what he could in vain; the Home Government was silent; the British consul protested, but without avail, and the butchery of these brave men began. We read from the newspaper accounts of the dreadful scene as the victims were ranged facing a wall. Captain Fry asked for a glass of water, which was given him by the friendly hand of one of his own race. He then walked with firm, unfaltering steps to the place assigned him, and calmly awaited the volley which ended his noble life.