Front matter (continued 4)

A touching incident occurred on the march to execution. When the brave man passed the American Consulate, he gravely saluted the bare pole which should have borne the flag, once and again so dear to his heart, but which had failed him in his extremity.

Although the firing party was only ten feet away, says the published account, Fry was the only one killed outright. Then ensued a horrible scene. "The Spanish butchers advanced to where the wounded men lay, writhing and moaning in agony, and placing the muzzles of their guns in the mouths of their victims, shattered their heads into fragments. Others were stabbed to death with knives and swords."

Fifty-three victims had suffered death, ninety-three more were made ready for execution; the bloody work was to be resumed, when an unlooked-for intervention came. The news had reached Jamaica, and it found in the harbor the British man-of-war Niobe under command of Capt. Sir Lambton Lorraine, who, true to his Anglo-Saxon instincts, needed no orders to speed to the rescue. Leaving in such haste that many of his men were left behind, he steamed with forced draft to Santiago. Before the anchor reached the bottom of the harbor the Niobe's drums had beat to quarters and the well-trained gunners were at their stations.

Commander Lorraine ignored the customary formalities; precious lives were trembling in the balance; moments were vital. Before the Spanish general was made aware of his arrival, Lorraine stood before him and demanded that the execution be stayed. To Burriel's unsatisfactory response the brave commander returned answer that in the absence of an American man-of-war he would protect the interest of the Americans. Still the Spaniard hesitated; he had tasted human blood, but his thirst was not satisfied. Again the gallant Britisher demanded an unequivocal answer, and, report says, confirmed it by a threat that he would bombard the town, as he had in Honduras for the protection of the Anglo-Saxon. His prompt, decisive action arrested the bloody work, and eventually saved the lives of the remainder of the crew of the Virginius.

On his return to England some months later, Sir Lambton was detained some days in New York. The city authorities, animated by his gallant conduct, tendered him a public reception, which was modestly declined. Virginia City, Nev., desiring to testify its appreciation of his noble humanity, forwarded to him a fourteen-pound brick of solid silver, upon which was inscribed his name and the incident, with the legend "Blood is thicker than water," signifying also in Western eulogy "You're a brick."

A tardy recognition of the rights of American possession was made later by the Spanish Government, and the Virginius was delivered to an American man-of-war. While towing the unfortunate craft off Cape Fear and bound for a Northern port, the Virginius sprang a leak, or, some say, was scuttled, and found her grave in the ocean depths beneath us.

RECAPTURE OF THE "EMILY ST. PIERRE."

The following strange story was told to me many years ago, and, although some of the details have been forgotten, the incident, which was declared to be quite true, led to one of the most extraordinary exploits of the War between the States in the famous recapture of the Emily St. Pierre.

While Great Britain was at war with France in the year 1813, a small Scotch brig was approaching the British Channel on the last leg of her voyage from the West Indies for Greenock on the river Clyde. She had successfully eluded strange sails and the captain was quite hopeful of reaching his destination without encountering a French privateer, but alas, when the brig was within a few days' sail of the "land o'cakes," a smarter vessel, bearing the tricolor at her peak, overhauled the Scotsman, and, with a round shot across her bows, compelled her surrender. A French prize crew was placed on board with orders to sail the brig to the nearest French port for adjudication. The Scotch captain and his cabin boy were retained on board as prisoners, the former to assist in the working of the brig and the latter to wait upon the prize crew. With the enemy's flag apeak, the little brig was headed for the enemy's country and was soon alone upon the sea. With the accustomed discipline of the man-of-war somewhat relaxed, the Frenchmen, wishing to make merry over their good fortune, sought among the brig stores the red wine to which they were accustomed, instead of which they broached a cask of Jamaica rum, under whose masterful potency they became as dead men. The Scotsman was quick to seize his opportunity, and with the lone assistance of his cabin boy he dragged every man Jack into his forecastle and securely tied them to their bunks; the officers were likewise secured in the cabin and the course of the brig laid straight and true again for bonnie Scotland. On the following morning while the brig was slowly proceeding under light canvas, which the master himself had set while the boy steered, another Frenchman gave chase and the hopes of the Scotsman gave way to despair as the swift cruiser overhauled him hand over hand. Turning to the French officer whom he had secured to the poop deck for the fresh air, he was astonished to find him in a state of terror instead of in triumph at the prospect of his release. Quickly the Frenchman explained in his own language, with which the Scotch captain was familiar, that his disgraceful plight and that of his crew would result in his speedy courtmartial and execution at the yard arm; that if the Scotch captain would accept his parole, restore to him his uniform and sword, assume with his cabin boy the uniforms of two of his Frenchmen, hoist the French ensign and leave the rest to him, he would extricate the brig, resume his bonds, and cast his lot in Scotland, for he could never see his own country again. This was quickly done, for the alternative but assured the brig's recapture. On came the armed Frenchman. Boom! went one of her guns. The brig rounded to, and in response to his countryman's hail, the quondam prize master shouted through his trumpet that he was of the French privateer, in charge of a prize ship, taking her to a French port. The commander of the armed vessel waved a salute and sailed away quite satisfied. The status quo ante of the brig was resumed, as arranged, the Clyde was reached in safety, and the descendants of the French prize crew can account for some of the mysterious French names still heard in the Scottish Highlands to this day. And, mirabile dictu, the cabin boy of the brig became the hero of the following true story and was subsequently well known as the captain of a Confederate blockade-running steamer into Wilmington. It was during the fourth year of the war that this very extraordinary man, Capt. William Wilson, appeared in Cape Fear waters in command of a steamer which ran the blockade at Wilmington perhaps three or four times; but there was nothing unusual about this incident, and perhaps for that reason I have forgotten her name. There was, however, something very unusual about Wilson, whose unequalled bravery in recapturing his ship the Emily St. Pierre, of Charleston, S.C., in 1861, was, of all the stirring incidents of the blockade, the most admirable example of personal pluck and endurance. I have been told by a kinsman of Miss Emily St. Pierre, for whom the ship was named, that she still lives in Charleston, and I am repeating this story of Wilson's wonderful exploits at his request. Although not strictly a story of the Cape Fear, it will be none the less interesting to our readers, and I reproduce the account published in Chambers's Edinburg Journal entitled "A Matter-of-Fact Story."

"On the morning of the 18th of March, 1862, the Liverpool ship Emily St. Pierre (William Wilson, captain) arrived within about twelve miles of Charleston and signaled for a pilot. She had made a long and tedious voyage of four months from Calcutta, bound for St. John, New Brunswick, calling at Charleston for orders if Charleston was open. If the Southern port was blockaded, Captain Wilson's orders were to proceed direct to the British port of St. John, New Brunswick. The ship had formerly belonged to Charleston, but since the outbreak of the American Civil War she had sailed under the English flag. Her nominal owners were Messrs. Fraser, Trenholm & Co., of 10 Rumford Place, Liverpool, a firm doing an extensive business, who had very close relations with the Confederate or Southern States, for whom they acted as bankers and agents in this country.

"Upon approaching the Charleston Bar, the ship was hailed by a vessel which proved to be the Northern cruiser James Adger, and in response Captain Wilson hauled up his courses, backed his main yard, and lay to. An American naval lieutenant and a score of men came on board and demanded his papers. The manifest showed an innocent cargo, 2,000 bales of gunny bags, and the registration of the ship as English was in due order. Charleston being blockaded, the captain demanded permission to proceed to his destination, the British port of St. John. The lieutenant refused, and referred the matter to his superior in command; and the two vessels proceeded into Charleston roadstead, where they arrived at half past two in the afternoon.

"Captain Wilson was ordered on board the flagship of the blockading squadron, the Florida, where he was kept for two hours in solitude and suspense. At last a flag officer, Captain Goldsboro, came to him and said they had decided to seize the Emily St. Pierre on several grounds. He asserted that she carried contraband of war—namely, saltpeter; that her English registration was not bona fide; that many articles on board had been found bearing the name Charleston; that the same word had been scraped out on her stern and the name Liverpool substituted; that Captain Wilson had not disclosed all his papers, but had been observed from the James Adger to throw overboard and sink a small parcel, probably of incriminating documents. Captain Wilson protested and appealed to the maritime law of nations, but in vain. He was informed that the law courts of Philadelphia would adjudicate the matter; and finally Captain Wilson was invited to take passage in his vessel to Philadelphia and to place at the disposal of the navigator his charts and instruments. The invitation in form was in fact a command. He returned to his vessel to find that his crew had all been removed, with the exception of two who were not sailors—the steward, named Matthew Montgomery, and the cook, named Louis Schevlin, hailing from Frankfort-on-the-Main. These were merely passengers and with them was an American engineer who had obtained permission to take passage to Philadelphia.

"The prize crew who took charge of the vessel consisted of Lieutenant Stone, of the United States Navy, in command; a master's mate and twelve men, fourteen in all; with the American passenger, fifteen. The moment that Captain Wilson again stepped aboard his own vessel, he formed the resolution to recapture her and take her home. He was bold enough to think that it might be possible to recapture the ship even against such odds. An unarmed man, aided by the questionable support of a steward and a cook, was practically powerless against the fifteen of the crew. On the other hand, Captain Wilson was a brawny, big-framed Scotsman (a native of Dumfriesshire), a thorough seaman, determined in resolve, cool and prompt in action. He called the steward and the cook to him in his stateroom and disclosed the wild project he had formed. Both manfully promised to stand by their chief. This was at half past four on the morning of the 21st of March, the third day out from Charleston. Captain Wilson had already formed his plan of operations, and had prepared to a certain extent for carrying it out. With the promise of the cook and the steward secured, he lost no time, gave them no chance for their courage to evaporate, but proceeded at once in the darkness and silence of the night to carry out his desperate undertaking. He was prepared to lose his life or to have his ship; that was the simple alternative.

"It was Lieutenant Stone's watch on deck, and the prize master's mate was asleep in his berth. The Scotch captain went into the berth, handed out the mate's sword and revolvers, clapped a gag made of a piece of wood and some marline between his teeth, seized his hands, which Montgomery, the steward, quickly ironed, and so left him secure. The lieutenant still paced the deck, undisturbed by a sound. Then across to another stateroom, where the American engineer lay asleep. He also was gagged and ironed silently and without disturbance. His revolvers and those already secured were given to the steward and the cook, who remained below in the cabin. Captain Wilson went on deck.

"Lieutenant Stone was pacing the deck, and the watch consisted of one man at the helm, one at the lookout, on the forecastle, and three others who were about the ship. For ten minutes Captain Wilson walked up and down, remarking on the fair wind, and making believe that he had just turned out. The ship was off Cape Hatteras, midway of their journey between Charleston and Philadelphia, the most easterly projection of the land on that coast. It is difficult navigation thereabouts, with the cross currents and a tendency to fogs, affording the two captains subject for talk.

"'Let her go free a bit, Captain Stone; you are too close to the cape. I tell you and I know.'

"'We have plenty of offing,' replied the lieutenant; and then to the helmsman: 'How's her head?'

"'Northeast and by east, sir,' came the reply.

"'Keep her so. I tell you it is right,' said the lieutenant.

"'Well, of course I am not responsible now, but I am an older sailor than you, Captain Stone, and I tell you if you want to clear Hatteras, another two points east will do no harm. Do but look at my chart; I left it open on the cabin table. And the coffee will be ready now,' and Captain Wilson led the way from the poop to the cabin, followed by the commander.

"There was a passage about five yards long leading from the deck to the cabin, a door at either end. The captain stopped at the first door, closing it, and picking from behind it an iron belaying pin which he had placed there. The younger man went forward to the cabin where the chart lay upon the table.

"'Stone!' The lieutenant turned at the sudden peremptory exclamation of his name. His arm upraised, the heavy iron bolt in his hand, in low, but hard, eager, quick words, 'My ship shall never go to Philadelphia!' said the captain. He did not strike. It was unnecessary. Montgomery had thrust the gag in the young lieutenant's mouth; he was bound hand and foot, bundled into a berth, and the door locked. Three out of fifteen were thus disposed of. There was still the watch on deck and the watch below.

"The construction of the Emily St. Pierre was of a kind not unusual, but still not very common. The quarters of the crew were not in the forecastle, but in a roundhouse amidships. The name does not describe its shape. It was an oblong house on deck with windows and one door. From the poop, or upper deck, at the stern, over the cabins and staterooms and the passage before mentioned, there was a companion stair on the port side leading to the deck at the waist; whilst a similar companionway at the stern led down to the level of the deck, which could also be approached direct from the cabins through the passage. In this space, behind the poop, was the wheel, slightly raised, for the steersman to see clear of the poop; and there was a hatchway leading to the lazaret hold, a small supplementary hold usually devoted to stores, extra gear, coils of spare rope, and so on. Nothing that might be done on this part of the deck could be seen, therefore, from the waist of the ship; vice versa, except by the steersman, who was elevated by a step or two above the level.

"Coming on this part of the deck from the cabin, Captain Wilson called to the three men who were about, and pointing to a heavy coil of rope in the lazaret, ordered them to get it up at once—Lieutenant Stone's orders. They jumped down without demur, suspecting nothing, as soon as the captain shoved the hatch aside. They were no sooner in than he quickly replaced and fastened the hatch. The three were securely trapped in full view of the helmsman, whose sailor's instinct kept him in his place at the wheel.

"'If you utter a sound or make a move,' said the captain, showing a revolver, 'I'll blow your brains out!' and then he called aft the lookout man, the last of the watch on deck. The man came aft. Would he help to navigate the ship to England? No; he would not. He was an American. Then would he call the watch? He would do that. And eagerly he did it; but the next moment he was laid low on the deck, and bundled unceremoniously into the lazaret with his three companions, the hatchway replaced and secured, Captain Wilson standing on guard near by.

"Meanwhile the watch below had been called and were astir. When sailors tumble out they generally do so gradually and by twos and threes. The first two that came aft were quickly overpowered, one at a time, and bound. The third man drew his knife and dashed at the steward, who fired, wounding him severely in the shoulder. It was the only shot that was fired. Finding that cook and steward and captain were all armed, the rest of the watch below quietly surrendered, and submitted to be locked in the roundhouse, prisoners of the bold and resolute man who in the course of an hour had thus regained possession of his ship against overwhelming odds.

"For England! Yes, homeward bound in an unseaworthy ship; for a ship that is undermanned is unseaworthy to the last degree. It is worse than overloading. And here is our brave captain 3,000 miles from home calmly altering her course the few points eastward he had recommended to the lieutenant, homeward bound for England, his crew a steward and a cook! Neither could steer, nor hand, nor reef. Brave-hearted Matthew Montgomery, honest Louis Schevlin, now is the time to show what savor of seamanship you have picked up amongst your pots and pans of the galley and the pantry.

"The first thing was to wash and bandage the wounded shoulder of the man who was shot, the next to put all the prisoners in the roundhouse under lock and key. Four of them out of twelve volunteered to assist in working the ship rather than submit to the tedium of imprisonment. The irony of fate. But one of the four could steer, and he imperfectly. And the courses are set, and the topsails, lower and upper, are drawing and the topgallant sails, too—pray Heaven this wind may last and no stronger.

"The lieutenant was admitted to the captain's table under guard and on parole. The meal over, he was ushered into his stateroom and locked in. Once a day only—for the captain is captain and crew combined—bread and beef and water were passed to the prisoners in the roundhouse; no more attention than absolutely necessary could be spared to them.

"Homeward bound! Captain Wilson had overcome his captors; could he overcome the elements? The glass was falling, the wind was rising, threatening a gale. The reef tackles were passed to the capstan, so that one man's strength could haul them. Then the wheel was resigned to the Irish steward and German cook, whilst the captain had to lie aloft and tie the reef points, ever and anon casting a look behind and signaling to his faithful men how to move the wheel. Hours of hard work, fearful anxiety before all is made snug to meet the fury of the coming storm. All is right at last, thought the captain, if everything holds.

"Yes, if. Everything did not hold. The tiller was carried away in the midst of the gale, and Captain Wilson, brave heart as he was, felt the sadness of despair. He had been keeping watch day and night without intermission for many days, snatching an hour's sleep at intervals, torn with anxiety, wearied with work. It was but a passing faintness of the heart. The ship rolled and tossed, helmless, at the mercy of the sea. For twelve hours he wrought to rig up a jury rudder, and at last, lifting up his heart in gratitude, for the second time he snatched his ship out of the hands of destruction; for the second time he could inform Lieutenant Stone that he was in command of his own ship. No longer was the ship buffetted at the mercy of the wild wind and the cruel Atlantic rollers, but her course was laid true and her head straight—for England.

"For thirty days they sailed with westerly gales behind them. They made the land in safety, and the code signal was hoisted as they passed up the English Channel. On the morning of the 21st of April, exactly one month since her course was altered on Cape Hatteras, the Emily St. Pierre threaded the devious channels which led into the broad estuary of the Mersey, the anchor fell with a plunge and an eager rattle of the leaping cable, and the ship rode stately on the rushing tide.

"Much was made of Captain Wilson during the next few weeks. All England rang with applause of his brave exploit. Meetings were convened, presentations were made, speeches were delivered to the extent that might have turned the head of a less simple and true-hearted man. Large sums of money were subscribed, of which plucky Matthew Montgomery and honest Louis Schevlin, the cook, got their share. But probably the happiest and proudest moment of his life was when the captain stood on deck on the day of the arrival, his wife by his side, near her the owner of the ship, Charles K. Prioleau, of Fraser, Trenholm & Co., whilst he narrated in simple words the story of his exploit. His big beard was torn and ragged, his eyes bloodshot with weariness and loss of sleep, his face haggard, weather-beaten, and drawn; but he was a man of whom all Britain was proud, a man to inspire her with the faith that the race of heroes does not die."

THE "LILIAN'S" LAST SUCCESSFUL RUN.

The four years of blockade running, from 1861 to 1865, were so crowded with incidents and adventures of an extraordinary and startling nature that each day brought a new and novel experience.

I recall my first day under fire, the trembling knees, the terrifying scream of the approaching shells, the dread of instant death. Again, the notable storm at sea in which our ship was buffetted and lashed by the waves until the straining steel plates cut the rivets and the fireroom was flooded and the engines stopped, while the tempest tossed us helpless upon the mountainous waves and all hope of our lives was gone, until we were mercifully cast upon a reef which extends about thirty miles from Bermuda. Again, when our party of five persons, endeavoring to reach the Confederacy in a small launch after the fall of Fort Fisher, was cast away the second day upon Green Turtle Cay, an obscure island of the Bahamas, where we dwelt in a negro's hut for three weeks, and then foolishly risked our lives again for two weeks at sea in a small boat which landed us in the surf among the man-eating sharks off Cape Canaveral, in Florida.

In the narration of these reminiscences of war times on the Cape Fear, I have adhered to facts, supported, when in doubt, by official records. In the following story of my personal adventures, I have written some extraordinary incidents which came under my observation, although not in the sequence described; and the romantic features are based on a true incident of the war, the hero of which, Captain M——, still lives in an honored old age. For uniformity, I have changed the text as it appeared in the Charlotte Observer many years ago, by the substitution of real names.

Abstract Log of U.S.S. "Shenandoah."

"Saturday, July 30, 1864. At meridian, latitude (D.R.) 33 50 N.; longitude (D.R.) 76 16 W., latitude (observed) 34 01 N., longitude (by chronometer) 76 10 W. At 3.45 p.m. sighted a steamer burning black smoke to the eastward; made all sail in chase. At 4.30 p.m. made stranger out to be a double smokestack, side-wheel steamer, apparently a blockade runner, standing to the northward and westward. At 5.45 he showed rebel colors. Called the first division and powder division to quarters and began to fire at her with the 30 and 150 pounder rifle Parrott. At 6 p.m. boat to quarters and fired all the divisions. At 7 p.m. took in fore-topgallant sail and foresail. At 7.30 took in fore-topsail. During the chase fired 70 rounds from 30-pounder Parrott, 18 rounds from 11-inch guns, and one round from 24-pounder howitzer. At 8 p.m. stopped firing, gave up the chase, stopped engines. At 9.20 Cape Lookout Light bore N.E. by N., 14 miles distant. Sounded in 12 fathoms of water. First saw the steamer in latitude 33 34, N., longitude 76 33 W. At midnight Cape Lookout Light bore N.E. by N. ½ N., distant seventeen miles.

"(Signed) Acting Master, U.S. Navy."

This matter-of-fact entry, read at random from the official records of the war, stirs my blood, because I, then seventeen years of age, was purser of that blockade runner, and it was I who hoisted those "rebel" colors on that eventful day fifty-five years ago; and thereby hangs a tale.

The steamer Lilian was one of the most successful examples of a Clyde-built blockade runner of 1864 in design and equipment. Of 500 tons net register, with two rakish funnels, the finest marine oscillating engines, a battery of boilers which drove her fifteen knots an hour, and loaded to her marks, she presented to the critical eye the graceful appearance of a racing yacht. A thing of beauty and a joy forever she was to all of us on board, and our beloved chief, the celebrated John Newland Maffitt, no less, was, we thought, the man of all men to command her. Unluckily for us he was ordered to take charge of the ram Albemarle, which the intrepid Cushing later destroyed—the most conspicuous example of personal daring recorded in the history of the war.

Another Southern man succeeded him, and, we having received from the Confederate agent a cargo of mysterious packages, which was most carefully handled, proceeded from St. George, Bermuda, bound for the port of Wilmington, N.C. This desired haven of these fugitives of the sea was preferred to the more difficult blockaded ports farther south. There were two inlets, Main Bar or Western Channel, commanded by Fort Caswell, and New Inlet, guarded by that Malakoff of the South, Fort Fisher.

Many fine ships were lost in sight of these defenses when daylight overtook a belated landfall, and it was pitiful to watch the desperate efforts of the little greyhounds to run the gauntlet of the fleet, whose concentrated fire at close range sometimes drove them among the breakers, where many wrecks may still be seen after all these years. There were many more fortunate, whose daring roused to the highest pitch of enthusiasm the brave fellows of the Confederate garrison who manned the protecting guns which kept the fleet at a respectful distance.

As we passed the ships which lined the docks of the friendly islands of Bermuda, their crews were mustered and cheer after cheer greeted us from lusty throats in unison. Beyond the bar we sailed upon a tranquil sea, without a sail in sight, and then I paid each man his bounty of $40 gold, an earnest of the greater sum which he would get for a successful run.

Upon our ship the discipline was rigorous and unrelenting. To each was given in few words his orders for the run; sobriety, silence, and civility were enforced. Our Chief Engineer Lockhart, Chief Officer Vogel, Pilot Jim Billy Craig, our Signal Officer Fred Gregory and I were served at the captain's table; the other officers messed together. Our crew numbered 48 men.

When night drew on the finest Welsh coal was picked and piled upon the boiler-room plates, for use in an emergency, and the dexterous handling of the dampers prevented the telltale sparks from betraying our dangerous course across the line of the ever-watchful cruisers, which formed their cordon around the Bermudas, upon the edge of the Gulf Stream, and across the most dangerous approaches to the Cape Fear River. No lights were permitted, smoking was inhibited, as, through impenetrable darkness, we ran full speed for Dixie's land.

A double watch was kept aloft, and upon the turtleback well forward, and the keenest eyes were fixed upon the course to guard against a collision with watchful cruisers, which also masked their lights.

Next in importance to the Wilmington pilot, Jim Billy Craig, who was a man of great ability, was a long thin fellow, a landsman, a nondescript known as "the watchman," who held himself in readiness day and night for service as a special lookout. This person's vision was wonderfully clear and far-reaching. He could see an object on the darkest night quite invisible to the rest of us, and his most efficient service was in the hour before daylight, when proximity to Uncle Sam's gunboats was most undesirable. Several easy captures had been made in the first streak of dawn by the accidental meeting of a casual cruiser and his unhappy quarry, when escape by speed was simply impossible. It was for this reason that our Long Tom was retained at high wages, which he squandered with other prodigals in playing crackaloo with double gold eagles. It was a simple game; two or more persons each threw up a gold piece, the one falling upon a joint or crack in the deck winning the others which fell between the lines. This was forbidden at sea, but such discipline was relaxed in port.

Our first night at sea was clear and beautiful, the air, cool and grateful, contrasted with the severe and at times almost suffocating warmth of the limestone islands. After the evening meal, Gregory and I, snugly ensconced in the lee of the cabin, which was on deck, sat far into the night gazing with wonder upon the tranquil glory of the stars, which shone with exceeding splendor, and talking with sad hearts of the waning light of the star of the Confederacy, which had reached its zenith at Chancellorsville and which sank so disastrously at the later battle of Gettysburg. The wind was light, but the rush of the staunch little ship at full speed brought to our listening ears the faint sound of a bell, not that of a ship striking the change of the watch, but a continuous peal of irregular strokes. In a few moments it ceased, and I have often wondered what it meant, for no sail was visible that night. Alert and eager for its repetition, which came not, our wonderment was increased by the cry of a human voice in the darkness ahead, which was also observed by the lookouts aloft and alow, and, while Long Tom was rapidly climbing the ratlines of the foremast to the crosstrees, our captain appeared on the bridge and brought the ship to a full stop. In painful silence all eyes and ears were strained to catch a sight or sound from the mysterious object ahead. Again and again the long-drawn, wailing cry. Could it be a castaway? The sailor's instinct and sympathy is never so much aroused as by such an incident. Shifting our course a point or two, we proceeded slowly ahead; the cry grew clearer, with despairful lamentations; again our course was changed, the paddles slowly turning. Ignoring the usual precaution of silence on board at night, the captain ordered the officer of the deck to answer with a hail. Immediately the voice responded, and in a few moments Long Tom reported to the commander on the bridge, "A nigger in a ship's boat, sir." "What," said the captain, "can he be doing out here in a boat 160 miles from land?" "I'm blessed if I know, sir, but I'm telling you the truth." "Cast-away, sir, close aboard," was the second officer's report a few moments later. "Heave him a line," said the commander. The falls of the davits were soon hooked on and the boat, with its lonesome occupant, hoisted to the deck. The next morning, when I was dressing, the chief steward knocked at my door and gravely asked if I would see the man whom we had rescued the night before, "for," said he, "there is something mysterious about his plight which he refuses to make known to me." On going forward I found a negro man of about fifty years of age, apparently in deep distress; mutual recognition was instantaneous; the poor fellow fell at my feet and embraced my knees, with broken sobs of "Oh, Marse Jeems, Marse Jeems, Marse Jeems!" His story was soon told in the homely and pathetic vernacular of the old-time Southern darkey. He had long been the butler and body servant of my friend at Orton plantation, whose lovely daughter had given her heart to a manly young neighbor before he went away to the war which had desolated many Southern homes. The fearful news of disaster had come from Gettysburg, in which her lover was engaged with his company on Culp's Hill. He had been shot through the lungs and was left dying on the field, which was later occupied by the enemy. Then a veil was drawn, for all subsequent inquiries as to his death and the disposal of his body were unavailing. The poor girl at Orton, grief stricken, haunted by fears of the worst, and mocked by her efforts to seek him beyond the lines, slowly faded to a shadow of her former self. Again and again my friend returned from a hopeless search among the living and the dead, when, he, too, began to pine away, for the war had robbed him of all but the child whom he adored, and now she was slipping away from him. It was then that this Nature's nobleman in a black skin came forward and desired his liberty to go through the lines in Virginia and never return until he brought the body dead, or news of his young master living, to the dear mistress whom he loved more than his own life. In vain my friend refused. How could he, a slave, overcome obstacles which the master, with all his influence, had failed to overcome? At last he gave the desired pass to proceed to the missing boy's command upon this mission of mercy, which was countersigned by the proper authority, and the faithful fellow proceeded on foot toward his destination. What followed, "in weariness and painfulness, in watchings often, in hunger and thirst, in fastings often, in cold and nakedness," would fill a volume. He reached the regiment at last, and carried to many hungry hearts the news of their loved ones at home, but he was told that his quest was in vain; the captain was dead, a Federal surgeon who approached him on the field had found his wounds mortal, had received from him his sword, to be sent home to the young mistress, with fond words of his devotion to the last; he had better return home. But no, he attempted that night to slip through the lines toward the Federal Army; he was caught, brought back, and sentenced to be shot at sunrise. How he was saved, as by a miracle, through the recognition of the officer of the firing squad, and sent back to Wilmington need not be told.

He had formed another desperate resolve—he would go to Orton in the night, and in a frail bateau attempt to pass the picket boats at Fort Anderson and Fort Fisher, and reach the blockading fleet beyond the bar. Perhaps when they heard his story they would take pity and send him North, when he might resume his search. He had crossed the river by the Market Street ferry and was passing through the cotton yard, where several blockade runners were loading their outward cargoes, when a new idea came to him; why could he not go as a steward on a steamer, and, with his wages, reach the North by way of the West Indies? With deferential humility he approached the captain of a steamer, which shall be nameless. He was not an American, neither was he a man in the sense of the noblest work of God; he was the embodiment of a personal devil; he laughed the old man to scorn; he had carried away on previous voyages runaway niggers, who, he said, had stowed away, and he had been obliged to pay for them on his return; the next one he caught at sea on board his ship would wish he had never been born; he didn't need a steward, and he did not doubt his tale of the young master was a lie. As the poor man turned away he was drawn aside by a kindly steward who had overheard the conversation, and, after much discussion and apprehension, he agreed to arrange a secret passage to Bermuda. That night he was stowed away, where it was hoped that the cruel process of fumigation for the discovery of fugitive slaves and deserters from the army, then in vogue before sailing, would not reach him. Cramped by the narrow space which forbade lying down, and deathly seasick, on the second night he crawled out for fresh air, was detected and seized by a passing sailor and reported to the captain. Infuriated by his recognition of the stowaway, he actually stopped the ship and set the poor wretch adrift in a leaky boat, without oars or food or water. It was on the second night after that he heard the mysterious bell and shrieked aloud for deliverance.

Although these qualities were not a common possession, this remarkable instance of a slave's devotion to his owner was not exceptional. There were hundreds and perhaps thousands of such examples, especially on the part of those whose duties were of a domestic nature. It was not the evolution of gentle traits of character, for this man's grandfather had lived and died a savage in the wilds of Africa. It was the result of daily contact with refined and kindly people whom he served, whose characteristic urbanity was unconsciously imitated, and whose consideration for others, which constitutes true politeness, was reflected in their servitor's devotion. I have a pensioner at Orton who is ninety-four years of age. He was the personal servant in his youth of Doctor Porcher, of Charleston. He is as polite as a cultivated Frenchman might be, but he is sincere in speech. He uses at times French phrases. He can tell you in polished language, and with becoming deference, of the grand people of the exclusive set of Charleston of long ago, and his solicitude for your health and for that of everyone connected with you whom he has never heard of is shown in expressions of old-time gentility, but he belongs to a class that is passing away.

I have up to this time refrained from mentioning the fact that we had on board, as passengers, three important personages of the old Navy, whose duty, as they saw it, impelled them to resign their commissions in a service which was dear to them, and to cast in their lot for weal or woe with the fortunes of their native State, which had seceded from the Union. They had served with distinction afloat and around the world upon a noted Confederate war vessel, and they were under orders to report to Secretary Mallory at Richmond. At the time of which I write there were in Nassau and in Bermuda certain spies said to have been in the pay of the Federal Government, and they sometimes succeeded in passing themselves, disguised and under assumed names, as sailors and firemen, but more frequently as stewards on the blockade runners that were not careful enough in the selection of their crew. By this means much valuable information was communicated to the authorities at Washington, and the mysterious loss of several fine blockade runners was attributed to the seditious influence of such persons in time of peril. There were also in each of our foreign ports of refuge a few fanatics, who, contrary to the usages of war, and upon their own initiative and responsibility, attempted the destruction of Confederate steamers at sea by secretly hiding in their bunkers imitation lumps of coal, containing explosives of sufficient power to sink a vessel when this object was shoveled into the furnaces under the boilers. Several such attempts had been frustrated because the deception was clumsy and easily detected in time by the coal passers, and I remember that these nefarious undertakings were frequently discussed by the engineers of our ship.

Meanwhile, I observed with some curiosity that we were off our regular course, and also, with feelings of dismay, that we were approaching a long, low, rakish-looking war vessel, barque-rigged and under steam, which was evidently lying to and awaiting us, but my apprehension was changed to wonder and amazement as I beheld flying apeak the new white flag of the Confederacy. It was a sight I shall never forget; alone upon the wide sea, hunted by a hundred adversaries, the corvette Florida, under the gallant Maffitt, had circumnavigated the globe and spread consternation among the merchant marine of the Stars and Stripes without the loss of a man. She was a beautiful vessel and had been handled with consummate skill and daring. There was something pathetic in the object of our meeting, which had been secretly prearranged, for a boat was immediately lowered, into which were placed sundry parcels of opium for the hospital service of the Southern Army, probably from the hold of one of her prizes; and this sympathetic offering from these homeless fellows on the high sea to their sick and wounded comrades in the field hospitals, for the mitigation of their sufferings, appealed strongly to our hearts.

We tarried briefly, dipping in a parting salute to each other our respective ensigns, probably the first and the last time that the conquered banner was used to exchange courtesies with the same flag at sea. The corvette proceeded under her new commander, Capt. Charles M. Morris, cruising near and far until she reached Bahia, Brazil, in which neutral port she was attacked while disarmed, and captured at night by the Wachusett, and later, it is said, was conveniently cast away near the last resting place of her famous commander, Captain Maffitt.

Our third and last day at sea began auspiciously, but we were drawing toward the coast much farther north than our usual landfall. At about half past three in the afternoon we were startled by the lookout in the crow's nest, with a lusty "Sail ho!" "Whereaway?" called the officer of the watch. "On the port quarter, sir, heading toward us." We were in a bad position, to the northward of Cape Lookout, but the stranger had not yet perceived us. In our eagerness for more steam, however, the telltale smoke was vomited from our funnels, and in a short time it was evident that we were being overhauled by a faster vessel under crowded canvas and full steam. The rising wind favored him, because we had but two sails, fore and aft, which served to steady us in a seaway, but this added little to our speed. As the stranger drew rapidly nearer, pushing us toward a lee shore, she opened fire with her rifled cannon, and for the first time in my life I heard the scream of a hostile shell as it passed between our funnels and plunged into the sea a half mile beyond. The sensation was most unpleasant; had we been able to return the fire, the excitement of battle must have been exhilarating, but to be hunted like a rabbit and pelted with Parrott shells and 11-inch projectiles was enough to reduce my backbone to such laxation that my trembling knees refused to bear it. The cruiser's aim was deadly, for the 11-inch shells came tumbling end over end with such fearful accuracy that many of them passed only a few feet from my head. Others sent the salt spray flying into our faces; and yet there were, up to six o'clock, no casualties of any importance. The admirable conduct of our naval passengers soon inspired me with courage—such is the influence of veterans beside raw troops—and, strangely enough, as the firing of single batteries was changed to broadsides, my despairful feelings gave way to hope and confidence. Our pursuer was now fairly abeam and sailing the same course. Why she did not destroy us utterly at such short range must have appeared to them incomprehensible, because we easily distinguished without glasses the movements of their gunners and the working of their crew at quarters; and our pursuer must have been surprised at the audacity of our passengers, who tranquilly measured with their watches the intervals between the firing of his projectiles and their passage overhead. They also used their sextants continuously during the chase, and it was doubtless owing to their superior knowledge and fortitude that our commander held on his course in the face of imminent destruction, for, be it remembered, we were loaded to the hatch combings with gunpowder for Lee's army. As the sun sank lower on the horizon, so sank our hopes of escape, for every moment seemed to be drawing us nearer to the end. Even our passengers became disheartened and said at last that it was a useless risk to all the lives on board. They accordingly proceeded to their cabins and destroyed their official papers, and threw overboard some valuable side arms and rifles, and I, by the captain's orders, took the Confederate mail bag and government dispatches to the furnace and saw them go up in smoke. Orders were now given to lower the boats to the rail, for what purpose I do not know, when a strange thing happened. There was a loud explosion in the forward fireroom, not made by the bursting of a shell but accompanied by a cloud of steam. Immediately the stokers and firemen swarmed up the iron ladders to the deck, terror-stricken and bewildered. They had been kept at their work for hours at the point of a pistol in the hands of desperate and determined men, but now, panic-stricken, they rushed aft, not knowing what they would do. Our chief engineer quietly reported the collapse of one of our boilers, cause unknown, steam reduced nearly one-half in consequence, but our slackened speed proved to be the means of our salvation. The sun had gone behind a cloud bank, a mist hung over the land to leeward, our ship, painted the dull grey color of the sand dunes along the shore line, was obscured from the view of the enemy, which was quite visible to us, forging ahead and firing wildly. Our engines were stopped and sails lowered, every eye was upon the cruiser. Would she discover our desperate expedient? Had she done so, I believe our crew would have been ordered to the boats and the Lilian abandoned, with a lighted fuse for her destruction. But the cruiser drew farther away, firing his broadsides at an invisible foe. Cautiously and slowly we limped to windward, crossing the wake of our discomfited antagonist, and laying our course straight and true for Wilmington. It was now eight o'clock in the evening, a hundred miles between us and our dangerous destination, and daylight comes early in the summer months. By the closest calculation we might, without accidents, reach the Cape Fear by sunrise, and then in our disabled condition how could we hope to run the gauntlet of the blockading fleet? It was resolved to do it or die. Fortune had favored us in an extremity, perhaps she would still be kind. We had an anxious night; sleep, even after the excitement and exhaustion of the previous day, was impossible. We saw the first faint streaks of day off Masonboro Sound, where our watchful Gregory picked up the signal lights ashore and passed the word along the beach for our protection by the fort. It was a cloudy morning; on and on we drove the little ship; she seemed to feel the crisis while she labored like a sentient being to meet her fate as speedily as possible. At last, in the friendly haze of dawn, we were among them; blockaders to the right of us, blockaders to the left of us, blockaders ahead of us loomed up like monsters of the deep. Craig coolly but anxiously peered ahead. Long Tom, well forward on the turtleback, whispered the words which a line of picked men reported to the bridge. Again and again we stopped for the passage of a picket barge or gunboat in the darkness ahead, who saw us not, and for the bearings, which in our devious course we had lost in confusion. Once more we slowly proceeded, when suddenly, out of the darkness and close aboard, flashed the fiery train of a rocket, and a deep, commanding voice, just over the side, shouted "Heave to, or I'll sink you." Quickly our bridge responded "Aye, aye, sir, we stop the engines." "Back your engines, sir, and stand by for my boats," called the lusty man-of-war. But our paddles were not reversed. Lockhart said he never heeded such an order with the bar at hand; on the contrary our engines were evidently running away with the ship, and, while the confident blockader, diverted from his guns, was engaged in lowering his boats, the Lilian was gliding away toward the bar. A trail of rockets and Drummond lights and bombshells from the rest of the fleet followed in our wake, but the friendly flash of signals from the fort encouraged us, while Gregory, with his masked lights, revealed to them our steady progress until we anchored under the Confederate guns. It was now broad daylight and the blockading fleet had sullenly withdrawn to a safe distance. We proceeded toward Fort Anderson and came to anchor at quarantine. The clouds had passed away, revealing in the brightness of the morning light the stately white columns of Orton House in the distance. Accompanied by our faithful Scipio and escorted beyond the fort by its courteous Colonel Hedrick, we proceeded in silence through St. Philip's churchyard and the dead colonial town of Brunswick, past Russellboro, where Governor Tryon met the first armed colonists (the cradle of American independence), through the long avenue of oaks, where, looking ahead, we beheld a sight which cheered our hearts; my friend and his daughter surrounded by the yelping hounds returning from a chase, for reynard's brush was at her saddlebow. With mutual exclamations of astonishment and delight we learned that the young captain had written by a flag of truce of his convalescence in a Northern hospital. I will not say the touching words that Scipio heard, as, with hands clasped by master and mistress, and with bowed head, he received their tearful benedictions. My friend has long since gone to his eternal rest and Scipio's white soul soon followed him. They are buried at Orton in a grove where the mocking bird builds its nest and sings; where, above the murmur of the tree tops, which bend to the soft south wind, is heard the distant booming of the sea, and in their death they were not divided.

INDEX

Abaco Light, Federal ships stationed near, 144. Ada Iredale (Annie Johnson), derelict merchant ship, 5, 6. Adair, Capt. W.F., blockade runner Antonica, 107. Advance, blockade runner, ix. Agnes E. Fry, steamer, 241. Alapaha, steamer, 45. Albemarle, Confederate ram, Captain Maffitt ordered to take charge of, 266; paper by Captain Maffitt on building of, 202. Albert, U.S.S., 26. Alexander, Captain, Confederate States Signal Corps, 191. Allingham, William, quoted, 2-14. Alma Cumming, derelict merchant ship, 8. Alonzo, blockade runner, ix. Amalco, U.S.S., log of gives last information concerning U.S.S. Cyclops, 28, 29. Antonica,[7] derelict blockade runner, 107-109. Arabian, derelict blockade runner, 90. Aries, U.S.S. blockader, 98, 99, 104. Arizona, steamship, damage to, 35. Atlantic, blockade runner, change of name, 61. Badger, derelict blockade runner, 102, 109, 110. Badham, Captain, Confederate service, 59. Bahnson, Captain, Confederate service, 59. Bald Head, wrecks near, 58. Banshee, derelict blockade runner, first steel vessel to cross Atlantic, 66, 83, 85, 160. Banshee, Number 2, blockade runner, 127. Bat, blockade runner, 102. Beaufort, N.C., held by Federals, 93, 226. Beery, Benjamin, 168. Bendigo, derelict blockade runner, 105, 106. Bergitte, derelict merchant ship, 7. Bermuda, Federal spies in, 276. Bertholf, Commodore E.P., letter by, 18-20. Bier, Capt. George H., blockade runner Dee, 81. Blake, Capt. Eugene, jr., U.S.S. Seminole, official report by, 42-47. Blockade, Federal, effectiveness of, xii. Blockaders, names of: Aries, 98, 99, 104; Boston, 203; Cambridge, 60, 81; Cherokee, 133; Connecticut, 103, 104; Daylight, 98, 99, 106; Fahkee, 106; Florida, 54, 55, 56, 76,252; Fort Jackson, 103, 106; Gettysburg, 203; Glaucus, ix; Governor Buckingham, 98, 99, 107; Howquah, 79; Iron Age, 87, 106; James Adger, 195; Keystone State, ix, 99, 134, 198, 203; Minnesota, 91; Montgomery, 104, 106; Nansemond, 62, 80, 85, 86; New Berne, 133, 139, 142; Niphon, 84, 86, 90, 91, 137, 138, 143; Penobscot, 119; Quaker City, 99, 102, 133; Sassacus, 82, 83; Shenandoah, 94, 141; Shokokon, 91; Stars and Stripes, 60; Tuscarora, 79, 99; stations of, 57, 224. Blockade runners, advantages of Wilmington, N.C., as port for, 94, 223; cargoes of, 52, 53, 58, 59, 60, 61, 66, 80, 81, 82, 83, 87, 103, 108, 118, 133, 138, 141, 144, 148, 170, 173, 219; Halifax, N.S., rendezvous of blockade runners escaping from Federal prisons, 38; losses through destruction of, 52; number of (1863), 88, 89; number of wrecks on Cape Fear coast of, 51-152; type of construction of, 87, 105, 106, 107, 120, 130, 131, 265, 266. Blockade running, advantages of North Carolina coast for, 57; effect of Gulf Stream on, 225, 226; methods of, 57. Bonneau, Capt. F.N., blockade runner Ella and Annie, quoted, 142; rams U.S.S. Niphon, 137, 140, 143. Boston, U.S. blockader, 203. Braine, Lieut.-Commander D.L., U.S.S. Monticello, official report by, 167-170. Breck, Acting Master J.B., U.S.S. Niphon, official reports by, 140-143. Brown, Governor Joseph (Georgia), part owner of blockade runner Florie, 109. Brunswick, N.C. (colonial), 169, 284. Bulldog, British gunboat, 218. Burgoyne, Capt. Hugh, loses life on British man-of-war Captain, runs the blockade, 160, 163, 165. Burroughs, Captain, blockade runner North Heath, 112-114; Cornubia, 192, 193. Butler's powder ship, 162. Cambridge, U.S.S. blockader, 60, 81. Camp Brown, fort, location of, 169. Cantwell, Edward, 63. Cape Fear, derelict blockade runner, 112. Cape Fear blockade, accounts of, 57-59, 224, 225. Cape Fear River, approaches to, 223, 266; forts on, 169. Capper, Captain, blockade runner, 67, 70, 71. Captain, man-of-war, capsizing of, 33, 165. Carolina Beach, wrecks near, 79. Caswell, Fort, 57, 61, 65, 72, 73, 102, 103, 116, 117, 118, 135, 174, 210, 266. Celestina, derelict merchant ship, 10, 11. C.E. Morrison, derelict merchant ship, 10. Chambers's Edinburgh Journal, quoted, 2-14, 250-262. Chameleon, blockade runner, xii. Cherokee, U.S.S. blockader, 133. Chickamauga, Confederate warship, 38. City of Boston, lost liner, 22, 24. City of Glasgow, lost liner, 24. City of Paris, steamship, damage to, 32, 33. Clark, Chief Justice Walter, mentioned, ix; quoted, xi, xii. Clitz, Commander J.M.B., U.S.S. gunboat Penobscot, official report by, 171. Clover, Admiral Richardson, U.S. hydrographer, 4. Coamo, steamer, aid in rescue of steamer Korona by, 43. Coast Guard, U.S., coast service of in derelict destruction, 20; intended international service of in derelict destruction, 19; rescue service of, 41-49. Condor, British gunboat, lost, 24. Condor, derelict blockade runner, 127, 131, 152. Confederacy, lack of navy by, x, xi; several times on eve of success, xi. Confederate flag, experiences of Captain Whiting with, 216, 217; meeting of the Lilian at sea with, 278. Confederate Government, need of powder by, 241; purchase of Virginia by, 112; purchase of Cornubia by, 192; purchase of Douro by, 79; purchase of Giraffe by, 191; seizure of North Heath by, 114. Confederate money, depreciation of, 174, 175, 228. Confederate Navy Department, orders to Capt. John N. Maffitt by, 110, 111, 212. Confederate States, commissariat of sustained by blockade runners, 53. Confederate States Signal Corps, work of, 189-198. Confederate steamers, attempts of fanatics to destroy, 277. Connecticut, U.S.S., blockader, 103. Contrabands, intelligent, information secured from, 109, 167-175. Cornubia, derelict blockade runner, 112, 137, 191-195. See also Lady Davis. Coxetter, Captain, blockade runner Antonica, 108; Fannie and Jennie, 54, 55. Craig, Rev. James William, Cape Fear pilot, 95, 267, 268, 283. Crosby, Capt. Peirce, U.S.S. Florida, 54, 56, 76, 77; U.S.S. Keystone State, 203. Cushing, Lieut. W.B., U.S.S. Shokokon, 91. Cyclops, U.S.S. collier, loss of, 25-29. Dare, derelict blockade runner, 104, 105. David G. Worth, lost freighter, 21. Davis, Hon. George, Attorney-General of the Confederacy, quoted, 53. Davis, President Jefferson, commissioners sent to England by, xi; issue of thanksgiving proclamation by, 173. Daylight, U.S.S. blockader, 98, 99, 106. Dee, derelict blockade runner, 81, 82. Delhi, steamship, stranding of, 33. Derelict blockade runners, accounts of, 51-153. Derelict blockade runners, accounts of individual ships: Antonica, 107-109; Badger, 109, 110; Banshee, 83-85; Bendigo, 105, 106; Cape Fear, 112; Cornubia, 191-195; Dare, 104, 105; Dee, 81, 82; Don, 81; Douro, 79, 80; Elizabeth, 61, 62; Ella, 57-59; Ella and Annie, 136-143; Emily of London, 55, 56; Fannie and Jennie, 53-55; Florie, 109; General Beauregard, 78, 79; Georgiana McCaw, 62-66; Hebe, 90-93; Kate, 114-118; Kate, second, 118, 119; Lynx, escape of, 95-97; Modern Greece, 59-61; Night Hawk, 119-130; North Heath, 112-114; Nutfield, 82, 83; Phantom, 103, 104; Pevensey, 131-136; Ranger, 97-100, 101-102; Spunkie, 102, 103; Venus, 85-88; Vesta, 97, 100, 101; Wild Dayrell, 72-78. Derelict destroyers, 7. Derelict merchant ships, accounts of individual ships: Ada Iredale (Annie Johnson), 6; Alma Cumming, 8; Birgitte, 7; Celestina, 10, 11; C.E. Morrison, 10; Drisko, 14; Duncow, 6; Falls of Afton, 6; Fannie E. Wolston, 16, 17; Glenalvon, 9; Korea, 9; L.E. Cann, 9, 10; Louise, 8; Marie Celeste, 11; Resolute, H.M.S., 13, 14; Savannah, 41; Siddartha, 7; Vila, 10; W.L. White, 5. Derelicts, accounts of, 1-17; drift of, 5, 7, 8, 13, 16, 17; failure to destroy, 1, 2; fictitious accounts of, 11-13; life of, 4, 5, 6, 8; number of, 3, 4; United States destruction of asked by international agreement, 18, 19. DeRosset, Doctor, 62. DeRosset, Mrs. A.J., work for convalescent soldiers by, 229. Deserters, condition of, 175; treatment of, 230, 231. Devens, Lieut. Edward F., U.S.S. Aries, official report by, 100, 101. Diamond Shoals, buoy at, 43. Dispatch, blockade runner, 66. Doggett, Lieutenant, Confederate States Signal Corps, 192. Don, derelict blockade runner, 81, 164, 177. Douro, derelict blockade runner, 62, 79, 80, 87, 90. Doyle, Capt. Austin, British steamer Korona, 47. Drisko, derelict merchant ship, 14. Duncow, derelict merchant ship, 6. Ella, derelict blockade runner, 57-59. Ella and Annie, blockade runner, capture of, 136, 137, 143; named changed, 137. Elizabeth, derelict blockade runner, 61, 62, 106. Emily of London, derelict blockade runner, 55, 56. Emily St. Pierre, British ship, account of, 250-262. Etruria, steamship, swept by tidal wave, 36. Eugénie, blockade runner, ix, 240, 241. Everson, Acting Master, U.S.S. Victoria, official report by, 64-66. Fahkee, U.S.S. blockader, 106. Falcon, blockade runner, 131. Falls of Afton, derelict merchant ship, 6. Fannie and Jessie, derelict blockade runner, 53-55, 56. Fannie E. Wolston, derelict merchant ship, 16, 17. Fayetteville, N.C., making of arms and ammunition at, 169. Fisher, Fort, 54, 57, 60, 61, 68, 74, 78, 80, 83, 91, 92, 93, 95, 97, 112, 114, 120, 141, 157, 161, 162, 173, 174, 175, 192, 209, 224, 231, 263, 266. Flamingo, blockade runner, 131. Flora, blockade runner, 196. Florida, U.S.S., blockader, 54, 55, 56, 76, 252. Florida, Confederate ship, captured by U.S.S. Wachusetts, 278; cruise of, 202, 277; failure of Commander Preble to capture, 205-208; formerly Oreto, 215; meets Lilian on high seas, 277, 278; remarkable escape into Mobile Bay, 205-207. Florie, derelict blockade runner, 109. Fort Jackson, U.S.S., blockader, 103, 106. Forts, see Camp Brown, Caswell, Fisher, Mount Tirza, St. Philip. Foster, Capt. James, U.S.S. James Adger, 195. Fraser, Trenholm & Company, owners of Emily St. Pierre, 251. Fry, Capt. Joseph, in command of Agnes E. Fry, 241; Eugénie, 240; Confederate gunboat Morgan, 241; Virginius, 241; sketch of life and death of, 239-244. Frying Pan Shoals, buoy at, 46; wrecks near, 107, 108. Gale, Captain, blockade runner Lady Davis, 194, 195. General Beauregard, derelict blockade runner, 78, 79. Georgiana McCaw, derelict blockade runner, 62-66. Gettysburg, U.S.S., blockader, 203. Gift, Lieut. George W., blockade runner Ranger, 97; official report by, 101, 102. Giraffe, blockade runner, name changed, 226; purchased by Confederate Government, 191. Glenalvon, derelict merchant ship, 9. Governor Buckingham, U.S.S., blockader, 98, 99, 107. Greenhow, Mrs. Rose O'Neal, aid given Confederacy by, 148-153; death of, 131, 153, 161; imprisoned in Old Capitol Prison, 151. Gregory, Frederick W., Confederate States Signal Corps, character of, 190; mentioned, 187, 267, 269, 284; quoted, 191-193, 194-200. Grosvenor, Gilbert H., editor National Geographic Magazine, quoted, 14-17. Gulf Stream, effect on blockade running, 225, 226. Guthrie, Captain, 112. Halifax, Nova Scotia, rendezvous of blockade runners escaping from Federal prisons, 38. Hamilton, Prof. J.G. deRoulhac, v, 53. Harris, Lieut. T.A., U.S.S. New Berne, official report by, 132-135. Hebe, derelict blockade runner, 80, 87, 90-93. Herring, Robert, Confederate States Signal Corps, 191. Hewett, Admiral, British Navy, runs the blockade, 127, 131, 160, 163, 165. Hobart, Captain, blockade runner Don, 81, 160, 163, 164, 177, 178. Hobart Pasha. See Hobart, Captain. Holcombe, Professor, rescued from drowning, 161. Hone, Major, 187. Horner, Captain, blockade runner Flora, 196. Horner, Joseph, quoted, 21-25, 30-37. Howquah, U.S.S., blockader, 79. Huronian, lost liner, 24. Hydrographic Office, U.S., work regarding derelicts, 4, 7, 16, 17. Index, blockade runner, account of, 196, 197. Integrity, finding of valuable derelict by, 9. Intelligent contrabands. See Contrabands, intelligent. Iron Age, U.S.S., blockader, 87, 106. Ionian, steamer, damaged by collision with derelict, 9. James Adger, U.S.S., blockader, capture of Emily St. Pierre by, 251, 252; capture of Lady Davis by, 195. James T. Petteway, Confederate transport, 118. Jordan, Adj.-Gen. Thomas, Confederate Army, 149. Kate, derelict blockade runner, 114-118, 120, 170, 173, 213, 214, 219. Kate, second, derelict blockade runner, 118, 119. Keystone State, U.S.S., blockader, 99, 134, 198, 203. Korea, derelict merchant ship, 9. Korona, British steamer, account of rescue by U.S.S. Seminole, 41-49; aid of steamer Coamo in rescue of, 43; letter of Alexander Sprunt & Son relative to rescue of, 47, 48; letter of Franklin D. Roosevelt relative to rescue of, 48, 49. Lady Davis, blockade runner, capture of, 194-196; former name of, 112, 137. Lamar, Col. C.A.L., part owner of blockade runner Florie, 109. Lamb, Col. William, commander of Fort Fisher, 67, 69, 85, 93, 97, 157, 173, 193, 197, 231; quoted, 157-163. Lamb, Mrs. William, story of devotion of, 157-163. Lamson, Lieutenant, U.S.S. Nansemond, official report by, 85-87. Lancaster, finding of derelict by, 9. Lawley, Francis C., correspondent of London Times, 160. L.E. Cann, derelict merchant ship, 9, 10. Lee, Gen. R.E., loss of gift sword for, 55. Lee, Admiral S.P., U.S. Navy, commanding North Atlantic Blockading Squadron, 74, 78, 106, 135, 143; official reports by, 98-100, 135, 136, 137-139. Lights. See Range Lights. Lilian, blockade runner, account of last successful run of, 263-285; capture of, 38, 203; chase of, 94, 95, 264, 265, 279-284; mentioned, ix, 39, 177, 202; quarantine experiences of, 181-188. Loch Torridon, steamship, swept by tidal wave, 36. Lockwood, Capt. Thomas J., blockade runner Elizabeth, 61; Kate, 115, 116, 117, 213. Lockwood's Folly, wrecks near, 52, 61, 106. London, sinking of, 22. Long, Joseph Brown, 131, 134. Lorraine, Sir Lambton, captain British man-of-war, Niobe, rescue of part of crew of steamer Virginius by, 244, 245. Lost Liners, accounts of, 21-40; financial losses by, 23; number of, 22; number of lives lost on, 23. Lost liners, accounts of individual ships: City of Boston, 22, 24; City of Glasgow, 24; Cyclops, 25-29; David G. Worth, 21; Huronian, 24; Naronic, 24, 25; Pacific, 22, 24, 35; Pericles, 35; President, 22, 23, 24; Tempest, 24; Thanemore, 22. Louise, derelict merchant ship, 8. Lumina, N.C., wreck near, 55. Lynx, derelict blockade runner, 95-97, 102, 110. McCaleb, Flora, 112. McCrae, Lieut.-Col. John, quoted, vii. McDonald, Captain, ship Storm King, 184, 185, 186, 188. McDougal, George C., character of, 61; mentioned, 115, 116, 118; quoted, 213-219. Macon, Fort, 134. Maffitt, Eugene, 188. Maffitt, Capt. John Newland, account of activities in Confederate Navy, 201-212; attempts to enter forts taken by Federals, 209, 210; character and ability of, 203, 204; daring run of, 143-148; dispute with American consul at Nassau, 216; finding of last port closed, 199, 201, 202; in command of Lilian, 39, 266; of Owl, xii, 110; last voyage in command of Owl, 208-212; mentioned, 109, 111; orders to, 110, 212, 266; paper on building of ram Albemarle, 202; regard of Federal officers for, 203, 204; remarkable run into Mobile Bay on Florida by, 205-207; rescue of Spanish barque by, 145, 146; takes charge of ram Albemarle, 266; of Oreto (Florida), 215, 278. Malingerers, stories about, 177-179. Mallory, Hon. S.R., Secretary of Confederate Navy, mentioned, 276; order by, 110, 111. Malvern, U.S.S., blockader, 137. Maratanza, U.S.S., blockader, 170, 171. Margaret and Jessie, blockade runner, a normal experience of, 235-237. Margaret and Jessie, U.S.S., former blockade runner, 137, 198. Marie Celeste, derelict merchant ship, 11. Mariner, tug, runs the blockade, 173, 174. Marshall, Captain, blockade runner Index, 196, 197, 198. Martin, Captain, blockade runner Susan Beirne, 199. Martin, Alfred, 62. Martin, E.S., 62, 63, 64, 210. Mary Celeste, blockade runner, 219. Masonboro Inlet, wrecks near, 56, 80, 81, 87, 90. Masonboro Sound, wrecks near, 90. Maury, Gen. Dabney H., 241. Merrimac, Confederate ironclad, x. Meteorological Office, British, work regarding derelicts, 4. Minnesota, U.S.S., blockader, 91, 92, 102. Modern Greece, derelict blockade runner, 59-61, 173. Montgomery, U.S.S., blockader, 104, 106. Morgan, Confederate gunboat, 241. Morrelle, Doctor, 63. Morris, Capt. Charles M., Confederate ship Florida, 278. "Mound," Colonel Lamb erects, 231; range lights on, 231-233. Mount Tirza, Fort, location of, 169. Munn, Captain, 91, 92. Murray-Aynsley, Admiral, British Navy, 160, 164, 165, 166. Nansemond, U.S.S., blockader, 62, 80, 86, 87. Naronic, lost liner, 24, 25. Narrative of a Blockade Runner, extracts from, 221-231. Nassau, British port of blockade runners, 71, 79, 170, 237; Federal spies in, 276; incidents in, 213-219. Naval History of the Civil War, extracts from, 203-207. Navy, Federal, contribution to success of North in Civil War, x, xii. Near derelict, account of, 143-148. New Berne, N.C., 93. New Berne, U.S.S., blockader, 133, 139, 142. New Inlet, mentioned, 57, 60, 63, 80, 83, 90, 103, 119, 122, 138, 196; wrecks near, 59, 152, 170. Night Hawk, derelict blockade runner, 119-130, 152, 160. Niobe, British man-of-war, rescue of part of crew of steamer Virginius by, 244-245. Niphon, U.S.S., blockader, 84, 86, 90, 91, 137, 138, 139, 140, 142, 143. Normania, steamship, swept by tidal wave, 36. North American Blockading Squadron, 90. North Carolina, Confederate gunboat, building of, 168. North Carolina coast, advantages for blockade running, 57, 223. Northfleet, sinking of, 22. North Heath, derelict blockade runner, ix, 112-114. Nutfield, derelict blockade runner, 82, 83. Nutt, Henry, 63. Old Capitol Prison, Mrs. Greenhow imprisoned in, 151. Old Inlet, mentioned, 57. Oreto. See Florida, Confederate ship. Owl, blockade runner, 102, 199, 208-212. Pacific, lost liner, 22, 24, 35. Penobscot, U.S.S., blockader, 119, 171. Pericles, steamship, destruction of, 35. Peters, W.H.C., Confederate Government agent in Wilmington, 111. Pevensey, derelict blockade runner, 131-136. Phantom, derelict blockade runner, 90, 102, 103, 104. Porcher, Doctor, 275. Porter, Admiral David D., U.S. Navy, commander attacks on Fort Fisher, 162, 209; quoted, 204-207. Preble, Commander, U.S. Navy, failure to capture Confederate ship Florida, 205-208. President, lost liner, 22, 23, 24. Prioleau, Charles K., 262. Ptarmigan, blockade runner, 131. Quaker City, U.S.S., blockader, 99, 102, 133. Quarantine experiences of blockade runner Lilian, 181-188. Range lights, along Southern coast, 231; on the "Mound," 231-233. Ranger, derelict blockade runner, 97-100, 101, 102. Reed, Captain, blockade runner Lynx, 95-97. R.E. Lee, blockade runner, successful deception by, 226, 227. Resolute (British), derelict merchant ship, 13, 14. Ridgely, Captain, U.S.S. Shenandoah, 78. Roberts, Captain. See Hobart. Roberts, Lieutenant, captain of the President and the Sirius, 23. Roe, Lieut.-Commander F.A., U.S.S. Sassacus, official report by, 75-78. Roosevelt, Hon. Franklin D., letter relative to rescue of steamer Korona from, 48, 49; order declaring Cyclops lost signed by, 29. Rosario, steamship, swept by tidal wave, 36. Rouen, blockade runner, capture of, 198. Royal Charter, sinking of, 22. Russellboro, N.C. (colonial), 284. St. Philip, Fort, location of, 169. San Francisco, destruction of a derelict by, 14. Sassacus, U.S.S., blockader, 74-77, 82, 83. Savannah, derelict merchant ship, 41. Scharf, Colonel, mentioned, 202; quoted, 231. Scipio, family servant, story of, 271-275, 285. Scotch brig, story of capture in 1813, 247-249. Seddon, Hon. James A., Confederate Secretary of War, 91, 93. Seminole, U.S.S., rescue work of, 41-49. Semmes, Captain, mentioned, 203, 204. Shenandoah, U.S.S., blockader, abstract log of, 264, 265; chases Lilian, 78, 94, 95; mentioned, 141. Ships, causes of destruction of, 30-40; damage by tidal waves to, 36, 37; malicious destruction of, 9, 10, 37-40. Shokokon, U.S.S., blockader, 91. Siddartha, derelict barque, 7. Sirius, first English-owned steamer to cross Atlantic, 23. Smith, Capt. C.G., quoted, 235-237. Smith's Island, 223. Smithville, N.C. See Southport, N.C. Southern Historical Papers, extracts from, 157-163. Southport, N.C., mentioned, 223, 230; wrecks near, 115. Spanish barque, rescue by Captain Maffitt of, 145, 146. Spanish Government, recognition of American rights to steamer Virginius by, 246. Spies, Federal, in Bermuda and Nassau, 276. Sprunt, Alexander, 63. Sprunt, Alexander & Son, letter relative to rescue of steamer Korona from, 47, 48. Spunkie, derelict blockade runner, 102, 103. Stars and Stripes, U.S.S., blockader, 60. Steele, Captain, blockade runner Banshee, 84; mentioned, 74, 163. Storm King, 184, 185. Stubbs, Captain, blockade runner Kate, second, 118. Susan Beirne, blockade runner, ix, 199. Tallahassee, Confederate warship, 38. Taylor, Thomas E., escapes from Federal captors, 160, 161; mentioned, 153; quoted, 67-74, 83-85, 120-130, 163-166. Tempest, lost liner, 24. Terry, General, commands land attack on Fort Fisher, 209. Thanemore, lost liner, 22. Three-funnel boats, account of, 130, 131. Tidal waves, ships damaged by, 36, 37. Titanic, iceberg causes sinking of, 15. Topsail Inlet, wrecks near, 52, 75. Tornado, Spanish man-of-war, capture of steamer Virginius by, 243. Tuscarora, U.S.S., blockader, 79, 99. Umbria, steamship, swept by tidal wave, 36. Usina, Capt. Michael, quoted, 108, 109. Venus, derelict blockade runner, 85-88, 90, 166. Vesta, derelict blockade runner, 97, 100, 101. Vila, derelict merchant ship, 10. Virgin, steamer. See Virginius. Virginia, blockade runner, name changed, 112. Virginius, steamer, barbarous treatment of officers and crew by Spaniards, 243, 244; capture of, 243; recognition by Spanish Government of American rights to, 246; rescue of part of crew of, 244, 245; sale of, 242; sinking of, 246. Vizetelly, Frank, correspondent of London Illustrated News, 160, 163. Vogel, Capt. Leo, 187. Vulture, blockade runner, 131. Wachusett, U.S.S., capture of C.S. Florida by, 278. Walker, Maj. Norman S., Confederate agent, 131, 134. Wartah, steamship, capsizing of, 33, 34. Welles, Hon. Gideon, Secretary U.S. Navy, 100, 136, 142, 225. Western Bar of Cape Fear River, 223, 236. Whiting, American consul at Nassau, dispute with Captain Maffitt, 216; experience with Confederate flag, 216, 217. Whiting, Gen. W.H.C., commander Confederate forces in Wilmington, 91; mentioned, 67, 162, 191, 192; official report by, 91-93. Whitworth guns, 54, 58, 83, 91, 92, 93, 134, 170, 193, 197. Wild Dayrell, derelict blockade runner, 66, 72-78. Wilkes, Commodore, 108, 109. Wilkinson, Capt. John, account of activities in Confederate Navy, 221-227; commander blockade runner Chameleon, xii; C.S. steamer, R.E. Lee, 221; quoted, 221-231, 231-233. Will-o'-the-Wisp, blockade runner, 121. Williams, Robert, 198. Williams, Capt. Thomas, 21. Wilmington, N.C., advantages as port for blockade runners, 57, 94, 223, 266; approaches to, 266; Confederate troops stationed in and around, 92, 174; construction of Confederate ships at, 172, 174; effect of the war on, 227-229. Wilmington Historical and Literary Society, investigations by, 62-64. Wilson, Captain, blockade runner Margaret and Jessie, 235, 236. Wilson, Rev. Doctor, father of the President, 62. Wilson, Capt. William, account of exploits with ship Emily St. Pierre, 250-262. Wise, Captain, blockade runner Cape Fear, 112. W.L. White, derelict merchant ship, 5. Wood, Doctor, 63. Wrightsville Beach, wrecks near, 51, 56. Yamacraw, Coast Guard cutter, 45.

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