University of Virginia Library

CHAPTER XXVIII.

May 16th.—The réveillé of the Zouaves, note for note the
same as that which, in the Crimea, so often woke up poor
fellows who slept the long sleep ere nightfall, roused us this
morning early, and then the clang of trumpets and the roll of
drums beating French calls summoned the volunteers to early
parade. As there was a heavy dew, and many winged things
about last night, I turned in to my berth below, where four
human beings were supposed to lie in layers, like mummies
beneath a pyramid, and there, after contention with cockroaches,
sank to rest. No wonder I was rather puzzled to know
where I was now; for in addition to the music and the familiar
sounds outside, I was somewhat perturbed in my mental
calculations by bringing my head sharply in contact with a
beam of the deck which had the best of it; but, at last,
facts accomplished themselves and got into place, much aided
by the appearance of the negro cook with a cup of coffee in
his hand, who asked, "Mosieu! Capitaine vant to ax vedder
you take some bitter, sar! Lisbon bitter, sar." I saw the
captain on deck busily engaged in the manufacture of a liquid
which I was adjured by all the party on deck to take, if I
wished to make a Redan or a Malakoff of my stomach, and
accordingly I swallowed a petit verre of a very strong, and
intensely bitter preparation of brandy and tonic roots, sweetened
with sugar, for which Mobile is famous.

The noise of our arrival had gone abroad; haply the
report of the good things with which the men of Mobile had
laden the craft, for a few officers came aboard even at that
early hour, and we asked two who were known to our friends
to stay for breakfast. That meal, to which the negro cook
applied his whole mind and all the galley, consisted of an

ugly looking but well-flavored fish from the waters outside us,
fried ham and onions, biscuit, coffee, iced water and Bordeaux,
served with charming simplicity, and no way calculated to
move the ire of Horace by a display of Persic apparatus.

A more greasy, oniony meal was never better enjoyed.
One of our guests was a jolly Yorkshire farmer-looking man,
up to about 16 stone weight, with any hounds, dressed in a
tunic of green baize or frieze, with scarlet worsted braid
down the front, gold lace on the cuffs and collar, and a felt
wide-awake, with a bunch of feathers in it. He wiped the
sweat off his brow, and swore that he would never give in,
and that the whole of the company of riflemen whom he
commanded, if not as heavy, were quite as patriotic. He was
evidently a kindly affectionate man, without a trace of malice
in his composition, but his sentiments were quite ferocious
when he came to speak of the Yankees. He was a large
slave-owner, and therefore a man of fortune, and he spoke
with all the fervor of a capitalist menaced by a set of Red
Republicans.

His companion, who wore a plain blue uniform, spoke sensibly
about a matter with which sense has rarely any thing to
do—namely uniform. Many of the United States volunteers
adopt the same gray colors so much in vogue among the Confederates.
The officers of both armies wear similar distin
guishing marks of rank, and he was quite right in supposing
that in night marches, or in serious actions on a large scale,
much confusion and loss would be caused by men of the same
army firing on each other, or mistaking enemies for friends.

Whilst we were talking, large shoals of mullet and other
fish were flying before the porpoises, red fish, and other enemies,
in the tide-way astern of the schooner. Once, as a
large white fish came leaping up to the surface, a gleam of
something still whiter shot through the waves, and a boiling
whirl, tinged with crimson, which gradually melted off in the
tide, marked where the fish had been.

"There's a ground sheark as has got his breakfast," quoth
the Skipper. "There's quite a many of them about here."
Now and then a turtle showed his head, exciting desiderium
tam cari captis, above the envied flood which he honored with
his presence.

Far away toward Pensacola, floated three British ensigns,
from as many merchantmen, which as yet had fifteen days to
clear out from the blockaded port. Fort Pickens had hoisted

the stars and stripes to the wind, and Fort M'Rae, as if to
irritate its neighbor, displayed a flag almost identical, but for
the "lone star," which the glass detected instead of the ordinary
galaxy—the star of Florida.

Lieutenant Ellis, General Bragg's aide-de-camp, came on
board at an early hour in order to take me round the works,
and I was soon on the back of the General's charger, safely
ensconced between the raised pummel and cantle of a great
brass-bound saddle, with emblazoned saddle-cloth and mighty
stirrups of brass, fit for the fattest marshal that ever led an
army of France to victory; but General Bragg is longer in
the leg than the Duke of Malakoff or Marshal Canrobert,
and all my efforts to touch with my toe the wonderful supports
which, in consonance with the American idea, dangled
far beneath, were ineffectual.

As our road lay by head-quarters, the aide-de-camp took
me into the court and called out "Orderly;" and at the summons
a smart soldier-like young fellow came to the front, took
me three holes up, and as I was riding away touched his cap
and said, "I beg your pardon, sir, but I often saw you in the
Crimea." He had been in the 11th Hussars, and on the day
of Balaklava he was following close to Lord Cardigan and
Captain Nolan, when his horse was killed by a round shot.
As he was endeavoring to escape on foot the Cossacks took
him prisoner, and he remained for eleven months in captivity
in Russia, till he was exchanged at Odessa, toward the close
of the war; then, being one of two sergeants who were permitted
to get their discharge, he left the service. "But here
you are again," said I, "soldiering once more, and merely
acting as an orderly!" "Well, that's true enough, but I
came over here, thinking to better myself as some of our
fellows did, and then the war broke out, and I entered one of
what they called their cavalry regiments—Lord bless you,
sir, it would just break your heart to see them—and here I am
now, and the general has made me an orderly. He is a kind
man, sir, and the pay is good, but they are not like the old
lot; I do not know what my lord would think of them." The
man's name was Montague, and he told me his father lived
"at a place called Windsor," twenty-one miles from London.
Lieutenant Ellis said he was a very clean, smart, well-conducted
soldier.

From head-quarters we started on our little tour of inspection
of the batteries. Certainly, any thing more calculated

to shake confidence in American journalism could not be
seen; for I had been led to believe that the works were of
the most formidable description, mounting hundreds of guns.
Where hundreds was written, tens would have been nearer
the truth.

I visited ten out of the thirteen batteries which General
Bragg has erected against Fort Pickens. I saw but five
heavy siege guns in the whole of the works among the fifty or
fifty-five pieces with which they were armed. There may
be about eighty altogether on the lines, which describe an
arc of 135 degrees for about three miles round Pickens, at
an average distance of a mile and one third. I was rather
interested with Fort Barrancas, built by the Spaniards long
ago—an old work on the old plan, weakly armed, but possessing
a tolerable command from the face of fire.

In all the batteries there were covered galleries in the rear,
connected with the magazines, and called "rat-holes," intended
by the constructors as a refuge for the men whenever a
shell from Pickens dropped in. The rush to the rat-hole does
not impress one as being very conducive to a sustained and
heavy fire, or at all likely to improve the morale of the gunners.
The working parties, as they were called—volunteers
from Mississippi and Alabama, great long-bearded fellows in
flannel shirts and slouched hats, uniformless in all save brightly
burnished arms and resolute purpose—were lying about
among the works, or contributing languidly to their completion.

Considerable improvements were in the course of execution;
but the officers were not always agreed as to the work
to be done. Captain A., at the wheelbarrows: "Now then,
you men, wheel up these sand-bags, and range them just at
this corner." Major B.: "My good Captain A., what do
you want the bags there for? Did I not tell you, these merlons
were not to be finished till we had completed the parapet
on the front?" Captain A.: "Well, Major, so you did, and
your order made me think you knew darned little about your
business; and so I am going to do a little engineering of my
own."

Altogether, I was quite satisfied General Bragg was perfectly
correct in refusing to open his fire on Fort Pickens and
on the fleet, which ought certainly to have knocked his works
about his ears, in spite of his advantages of position, and of
some well-placed mortar batteries among the brushwood, at

distances from Pickens of 2500 and 2800 yards. The magazines
of the batteries I visited did not contain ammunition for
more than one day's ordinary firing. The shot were badly
cast, with projecting flanges from the mould, which would be
very injurious to soft metal guns in firing. As to men, as in
guns, the Southern papers had lied consumedly. I could not
say how many were in Pensacola itself, for I did not visit the
camp: at the outside guess of the numbers there was 2000.
I saw, however, all the camps here, and I doubt exceedingly
if General Bragg—who at this time is represented to have
any number from 30,000 to 50,000 men under his command
—has 8000 troops to support his batteries, or 10,000, including
Pensacola, all told.

If hospitality consists in the most liberal participation of
all the owner has with his visitors, here, indeed, Philemon
has his type in every tent. As we rode along through every
battery, by every officer's quarters some great Mississippian
or Alabamian came forward with "Captain Ellis, I am glad
to see you." "Colonel," to me, "won't you get down and
have a drink?" Mr. Ellis duly introduces me. The Colonel
with effusion grasps my hand and says, as if he had just gained
the particular object of his existence, "Sir, I am very glad
indeed to know you. I hope you have been pretty well since
you have been in our country, sir. Here, Pompey, take the
colonel's horse. Step in, sir, and have a drink." Then comes
out the great big whiskey bottle, and an immense amount of
adhesion to the first law of nature is required to get you off
with less than half-a-pint of "Bourbon;" but the most trying
thing to a stranger is the fact that when he is going away, the
officer, who has been so delighted to see him, does not seem
to care a farthing for his guest or his health.

The truth is, these introductions are ceremonial observances,
and compliances with the universal curiosity of Americans to
know people they meet. The Englishman bows frigidly to
his acquaintance on the first introduction, and if he likes him
shakes hands with him on leaving—a much more sensible
and justifiable proceeding. The American's warmth at the
first interview must be artificial, and the indifference at parting
is ill-bred and in bad taste. I had already observed this
on many occasions, especially at Montgomery, where I noticed
it to Colonel Wigfall, but the custom is not incompatible with
the most profuse hospitality, nor with the desire to render
service.

On my return to head-quarters I found General Bragg in
his room, engaged in writing an official letter in reply to my
request to be permitted to visit Fort Pickens, in which he
gave me full permission to do as I pleased. Not only this,
but he had prepared a number of letters of introduction to the
military authorities, and to his personal friends at New
Orleans, requesting them to give me every facility and
friendly assistance in their power. He asked me my opinion
about the batteries and their armament, which I freely gave
him quantum valeat. "Well," he said, "I think your conclusions
are pretty just; but, nevertheless, some fine day I shall
be forced to try the mettle of our friends on the opposite
side." All I could say was, "May God defend the right."
"A good saying, to which I say, Amen. And drink with you
to it".

There was a room outside, full of generals and colonels,
to whom I was duly introduced, but the time for departure
had come, and I bade good-by to the general and rode down
to the wharf. I had always heard, during my brief sojourn
in the North, that the Southern people were exceedingly
illiterate and ignorant. It may be so, but I am bound to say
that I observed a large proportion of the soldiers, on their
way to the navy yard, engaged in reading newspapers, though
they did not neglect the various drinking bars and exchanges,
which were only too numerous in the vicinity of the
camps.

The schooner was all ready for sea, but the Mobile gentleman
had gone off to Pensacola, and as I did not desire to
invite them to visit Fort Pickens—where, indeed, they would
have most likely met with a refusal—I resolved to sail without
them and to return to the navy yard in the evening, in
order to take them back on our homeward voyage. "Now
then, captain, cast loose; we are going to Fort Pickens." The
worthy seaman had by this time become utterly at sea, and
did not appear to know whether he belonged to the Confederate
States, Abraham Lincoln, or the British navy. But
this order roused him a little, and looking at me with all his
eyes, he exclaimed, "Why, you don't mean to say you are
going to make me bring the Diana alongside that darned
Yankee Fort!" Our table-cloth, somewhat maculated with
gravy, was hoisted once more to the peak, and, after some
formalities between the guardians of the jetty and ourselves,
the schooner canted round in the tideway, and with a fine
light breeze ran down toward the stars and stripes.

What magical power there is in the colors of a piece of
bunting! My companions, I dare say, felt as proud of their
flag as if their ancestors had fought under it at Acre or Jerusalem.
And yet how fictitious its influence! Death, and dishonor
worse than death, to desert it one day! Patriotism and
glory to leave it in the dust, and fight under its rival, the next!
How indignant would George Washington have been, if the
Frenchman at Fort du Quesne had asked him to abandon the
old rag which Braddock held aloft in the wilderness, and to
serve under the very fleur-de-lys which the same great George
hailed with so much joy but a few years afterwards, when it
was advanced to the front at Yorktown, to win one of its few
victories over the Lions and the Harp. And in this Confederate
flag there is a meaning which cannot die—it marks the
birthplace of a new nationality, and its place must know it
forever. Even the flag of a rebellion leaves indelible colors
in the political atmosphere. The hopes that sustained it
may vanish in the gloom of night, but the national faith still
believes that its sun will rise on some glorious morrow. Hard
must it be for this race, so arrogant, so great, to see stripe and
star torn from the fair standard with which they would fain
have shadowed all the kingdoms of the world; but their great
continent is large enough for many nations.

"And now," said the skipper, "I think we'd best lie to—
them cussed Yankees on the beach is shouting to us." And
so they were. A sentry on the end of a wooden jetty sung
out, "Hallo you there! Stand off or I'll fire," and "drew
a bead-line on us." At the same time the skipper hailed,
"Please to send a boat off to go ashore." "No, sir! Come in
your own boat!" cried the officer of the guard. Our own
boat! A very skiff of Charon! Leaky, rotten, lop-sided. We
were a hundred yards from the beach, and it was to be hoped
that with all its burden, it could not go down in such a short
row. As I stepped in, however, followed by my two companions,
the water flew in as if forced by a pump, and when
the sailors came after us the skipper said, through a mouthful
of juice, "Deevid! pull your hardest, for there an't a more
terrible place for shearks along the whole coast." Deevid and
his friend pulled like men, and our hopes rose with the water
in the boat and the decreasing distance to shore. They
worked like Doggett's badgers, and in five minutes we were
out of "sheark" depth and alongside the jetty, where Major
Vogdes, Mr. Brown, of the Oriental, and an officer, introduced

as Captain Barry of the United States artillery, were waiting
to receive us. Major Vogdes said that Colonel Brown would
most gladly permit me to go over the fort, but that he could
not receive any of the other gentlemen of the party; they
were permitted to wander about at their discretion. Some
friends whom they picked up amongst the officers took them
on a ride along the island, which is merely a sand-bank covered
with coarse vegetation, a few trees, and pools of brackish
water.

If I were selecting a summer habitation I should certainly
not choose Fort Pickens. It is, like all other American works
I have seen, strong on the sea faces and weak toward the
land. The outer gate was closed, but at a talismanic knock
from Captain Barry, the wicket was thrown open by the
guard, and we passed through a vaulted gallery into the
parade ground, which was full of men engaged in strengthening
the place, and digging deep pits in the centre as shell traps.
The men were United States regulars, not comparable in physique
to the Southern volunteers, but infinitely superior in
cleanliness and soldierly smartness. The officer on duty led
me to one of the angles of the fort and turned in to a covered
way, which had been ingeniously contrived by tilting up gun
platforms and beams of wood at an angle against the wall, and
piling earth and sand banks against them for several feet in
thickness. The casemates, which otherwise would have been
exposed to a plunging fire in the rear, were thus effectually
protected.

Emerging from this dark passage I entered one of the
bomb-proofs, fitted up as a bed-room, and thence proceeded
to the casemate, in which Colonel Harvey Browne has his
head-quarters. After some conversation, he took me out upon
the parapet and went all over the defences.

Fort Pickens is an oblique, and somewhat narrow parallelogram,
with one obtuse angle facing the sea and the other
toward the land. The bastion at the acute angle toward Barrancas
is the weakest part of the work, and men were engaged
in throwing up an extempore glacis to cover the wall and the
casemates from fire. The guns were of what is considered
small calibre in these days, 32 and 42 pounders, with four or
five heavy columbiads. An immense amount of work has
been done within the last three weeks, but as yet the preparations
are by no means complete. From the walls, which are
made of a hard baked brick, nine feet in thickness, there is a

good view of the enemy's position. There is a broad ditch
round the work, now dry, and probably not intended for water.
The cuvette has lately been cleared out, and in proof of the
agreeable nature of the locality, the officers told me that sixty
very fine rattle-snakes were killed by the workmen during the
operation.

As I was looking at the works from the wall, Captain Vogdes
made a sly remark now and then, blinking his eyes and
looking closely at my face to see if he could extract any information.
"There are the quarters of your friend General
Bragg; he pretends, we hear, that it is an hospital, but we
will soon have him out when we open fire." "Oh, indeed."
"That's their best battery beside the light-house; we can't
well make out whether there are ten, eleven, or twelve guns
in it." Then Captain Vogdes became quite meditative, and
thought aloud, "Well, I'm sure, Colonel, they've got a strong
entrenched camp in that wood behind their morter batteries.
I'm quite sure of it—we must look to that with our long
range guns." What the engineer saw, must have been certain
absurd little furrows in the sand, which the Confederates have
thrown up about three feet in front of their tents, but whether
to carry off or to hold rain water, or as cover for rattle-snakes,
the best judge cannot determine.

The Confederates have been greatly delighted with the idea
that Pickens will be almost untenable during the summer for
the United States troops, on account of the heat and mosquitos,
not to speak of yellow fever; but in fact they are far better
off than the troops on shore—the casemates are exceedingly
well ventilated, light and airy. Mosquitos, yellow fever,
and dysentery, will make no distinction between Trojan and
Tyrian. On the whole, I should prefer being inside, to being
outside Pickens, in case of a bombardment; and there can be
no doubt the entire destruction of the navy yard and station
by the Federals can be accomplished whenever they please.
Colonel Browne pointed out the tall chimney at Warrenton
smoking away, and said, "There, sir, is the whole reason of
Bragg's forbearance, as it is called. Do you see?—they are
casting shot and shell there as fast as they can. They know
well if they opened a gun on us I could lay that yard and
all their works there in ruin;" and Colonel Harvey Browne
seems quite the man for the work—a resolute, energetic
veteran, animated by the utmost dislike to secession and its
leaders, and full of what are called "Union Principles,"

which are rapidly becoming the mere expression of a desire
to destroy life, liberty, property, any thing in fact which opposes
itself to the consolidation of the Federal government.

Probably no person has ever been permitted to visit two
hostile camps within sight of each other save myself. I was
neither spy, herald, nor ambassador; and both sides trusted
to me fully on the understanding that I would not make use
of any information here, but that it might be communicated
to the world at the other side of the Atlantic.

Apropos of this, Colonel Browne told me an amusing story,
which shows that 'cuteness is not altogether confined to the
Yankees. Some days ago a gentleman was found wandering
about the island, who stated he was a correspondent of
a New York paper. Colonel Browne was not satisfied with
the account he gave of himself, and sent him on board one
of the ships of the fleet, to be confined as a prisoner. Soon
afterwards a flag of truce came over from the Confederates,
carrying a letter from General Bragg, requesting Colonel
Browne to give up the prisoner, as he had escaped to the
island after committing a felony, and enclosing a warrant
signed by a justice of the peace for his arrest. Colonel
Browne laughed at the ruse, and keeps his prisoner.

As it was approaching evening and I had seen every
thing in the fort, the hospital, casemates, magazines, bake-houses,
tasted the rations, and drank the whiskey, I set out
for the schooner, accompanied by Colonel Browne and Captain
Barry and other officers, and picking up my friends at
the bakehouse outside.

Having bidden our acquaintances good-by, we got on board
the Diana, which steered toward the Warrington navy yard,
to take the rest of the party on board. The sentries along
the beach and on the batteries grounded arms, and stared
with surprise as the Diana, with her tablecloth flying, crossed
over from Fort Pickens, and ran slowly along the Confederate
works. Whilst we were spying for the Mobile gentlemen,
the mate took it into his head to take up the Confederate
bunting, and wave it over the quarter. "Hollo, what's that
you're doing?" "It's only a signal to the gentlemen on
shore." "Wave some other flag, if you please, when we are
in these waters, with a flag of truce flying."

After standing off and on for some time, the Mobilians at
last boarded us in a boat. They were full of excitement,
quite eager to stay and see the bombardment which must

come off in twenty-four hours. Before we left Mobile harbor
I had made a bet for a small sum that neither side would
attack within the next few days; but now I could not even
shake my head one way or the other, and it required the
utmost self-possession and artifice of which I was master to
evade the acute inquiries and suggestions of my good friends.
I was determined to go—they were equally bent upon remaining;
and so we parted after a short but very pleasant
cruise together.

We had arranged with Mr. Brown that we would look out
for him on leaving the harbor, and a bottle of wine was put
in the remnants of our ice to drink farewell; but it was almost
dark as the Diana shot out seawards between Pickens and
M'Rae; and for some anxious minutes we were doubtful
which would be the first to take a shot at us. Our tablecloth
still fluttered; but the color might be invisible. A lantern was
hoisted astern by my order as soon as the schooner was clear of
the forts; and with a cool sea-breeze we glided out into the
night, the black form of the Powhattan being just visible, the
rest of the squadron lost in the darkness. We strained our
eyes for the Oriental, but in vain; and it occurred to us that
it would scarcely be a very safe proceeding to stand from the
Confederate forts down toward the guard-ship, unless under
the convoy of the Oriental. It seemed quite certain she
must be cruising some way to the westward, waiting for us.

The wind was from the north, on the best point for our return;
and the Diana, heeling over in the smooth water, proceeded
on her way toward Mobile, running so close to the
shore that I could shy a biscuit on the sand. She seemed to
breathe the wind through her sails, and flew with a crest of
flame at her bow, and a bubbling wake of meteor-like streams
flowing astern, as though liquid metal were flowing from a
furnace.

The night was exceedingly lovely, but after the heat of the
day the horizon was somewhat hazy. "No sign of the Oriental
on our lee-bow?" "Nothing at all in sight, sir, ahead
or astern." Sharks and large fish ran off from the shallows
as we passed, and rushed out seawards in runs of brilliant light.
The Perdida was left far astern.

On sped the Diana, but no Oriental came in view. I felt
exceedingly tired, heated, and fagged; had been up early,
ridden in a broiling sun, gone through batteries, examined
forts, sailed backwards and forwards, so I was glad to turn in

out of the night dew, and, leaving injunctions to the captain
to keep a bright look out for the Federal boarding schooner,
I went to sleep without the smallest notion that I had seen
my last, of Mr. Brown.

I had been two or three hours asleep when I was awoke by
the negro cook, who was leaning over the berth, and, with
teeth chattering, said, "Monsieur! nous sommes perdus! un
bâtiment de guerre nous poursuit—il va tirer bientôt. Nous
serons coulé! Oh, Mon Dieu! Oh, Mon Dieu!" I started
up and popped my head through the hatchway. The skipper
himself was at the helm, glancing from the compass to the
quivering reef points of the mainsail. "What's the matter,
captain?" "Waal, sir," said the captain, speaking very slowly,
"There has been a something a running after us for nigh the
last two hours, but he ain't a gaining on us. I don't think
he'll kitch us up nohow this time; if the wind holds this pint
a leetle, Diana will beat him."

The confidence of coasting captains in their own craft is an
hallucination which no risk or danger will ever prevent them
from cherishing most tenderly. There's not a skipper from
Hartlepool to Whitstable who does not believe his Maryanne
Smith or the Two Grandmothers is able, "on certain pints,"
to bump her fat bows, and drag her coal-scuttle shaped stern
faster through the sea than any clipper afloat. I was once
told by the captain of a Margate Billy Boy he believed he
could run to windward of any frigate in Her Majesty's service.

"But, good heavens, man, it may be the Oriental—no
doubt it is Mr. Brown who is looking after us." "Ah! Waal,
may be. Whoever it is, he creeped quite close up on me in
the dark. It give me quite a sterk when I seen him. 'May
be,' says I, 'he is a privateering—pirating—chap.' So I
runs in shore as close as I could; gets my centre board in, and,
says I, 'I'll see what you're made of, my boy.' And so we
goes on. He ain't a-gaining on us, I can tell you."

I looked through the glass, and could just make out, half or
three quarters of a mile astern, and to leeward, a vessel looking
quite black, which seemed to be standing on in pursuit of
us. The shore was so close, we could almost have leaped
into the surf, for when the centre board was up the Diana
did not draw much more than four feet of water. The skipper
held grimly on. "You had better shake your wind, and
see who it is; it may be Mr. Brown." "No, sir, Mr. Brown
or no, I can't help carrying on now; there's a bank runs all

along outside of us, and if I don't hold my course I'll be on it
in one minute." I confess I was rather annoyed, but the captain
was master of the situation. He said, that if it had been
the Oriental she would have fired a blank gun to bring us to
as soon as she saw us. To my inquiries why he did not
awaken me when she was first made out, he innocently replied,
"You was in such a beautiful sleep, I thought it would
be regular cruelty to disturb you."

By creeping close in shore the Diana was enabled to keep
to windward of the stranger, who was seen once or twice to
bump or strike, for her sails shivered. "There, she's struck
again." "She's off once more," and the chase is renewed.
Every moment I expected to have my eyes blinded by the
flash of her bow gun, but for some reason or another, possibly
because she did not wish to check her way, the Oriental—
privateer, or whatever it was—saved her powder.

A stern chase is a long chase. It is two o'clock in the
morning—the skipper grinned with delight. "I'll lead him
into a pretty mess if he follows me through the 'Swash,'
whoever he is." We were but ten miles from Fort Morgan.
Nearer and nearer to the shore creeps the Diana.

"Take a cast of the lead, John." "Nine feet." "Good.
Again." "Seven feet." "Again." "Five feet." "Charlie,
bring the lantern." We were now in the "Swash," with a
boiling tideway.

Just at the moment that the negro uncovered the lantern
out it went, a fact which elicited the most remarkable amount
of imprecations ear ever heard. The captain went dancing
mad in intervals of deadly calmness, and gave his commands
to the crew, and strange oaths to the cook alternately,
as the mate sung out, "Five feet and a half." "About she
goes! Confound you, you black scoundrel, I'll teach you."
&c., &c. "Six feet! Eight feet and a half!" "About she
comes again." "Five feet! Four feet and a half." (Oh,
Lord! Six inches under our keel!) And so we went, with
a measurement between us and death of inches, not by any
means agreeable, in which the captain showed remarkable
coolness and skill in the management of his craft, combined
with a most unseemly animosity toward his unfortunate cook.

It was very little short of a miracle that we got past the
"Elbow," as the most narrow part of the channel is called,
for it was just at the critical moment the binnacle light was
extinguished, and went out with a splutter, and there we

were left in darkness in a channel not one hundred yards
wide and only six feet deep. The centre board also got jammed
once or twice when it was most important to lie as close
to the wind as possible; but at last the captain shouted out.
"It's all right, we're in deep water," and calling the mate
to the helm proceeded to relieve his mind by chasing Charlie
into a corner and belaboring him with a dead shark or dogfish
about four feet long, which he picked up from the deck
as the handiest weapon he could find. For the whole morning,
henceforth, the captain found great comfort in making
constant charges on the hapless cook, who at last slyly threw
the shark overboard at a favorable opportunity, and forced
his master to resort to other varieties of Rhadamantine implements.
But where was the Oriental all this time? No one
could say; but Charlie, who seemed an authority as to her
movements, averred she put her helm round as soon as we
entered the "Swash," and disappeared in black night.

The Diana had thus distinguished herself by running the
blockade of Pensacola, but a new triumph awaited her. As
we approached Fort Morgan a gray streak in the East just
offered light enough to distinguish the outlines of the fort and
of the Confederate flag which waved above it. A fair breeze
carried us abreast of the signal station, one solitary light
gleamed from the walls, but neither guard boat put off to
board us, nor did sentry hail, nor was gun fired—still we
stood on. "Captain, had you not better lie to? They'll be
sending a round shot after us presently." "No, sir. They are
all asleep in that fort," replied the indomitable skipper.

Down went his helm and away ran the Diana into Mobile
Bay, and was soon safe in the haze beyond shot or shell, running
toward the opposite shore. This was glory enough, for
the Diana of Mobile. The wind blew straight from the North
into our teeth, and at bright sunrise she was only a few miles
inside the bay.

All the livelong day was spent in tacking from one low
shore to another low shore, through water which looked like
pea soup. We had to be sure the pleasure of seeing Mobile
from, every point of view, east and west, with all the varieties
between northing and southing, and numerous changes in the
position of steeples, sandhills, and villas, the sun roasting us
all the time and boiling the pitch out of the seams.

The greatest excitement of the day was an encounter with
a young alligator, making an involuntary voyage out to sea

in the tide-way. The crew said he was drowning, having
lost his way or being exhausted by struggling with the current.
He was about ten feet long, and appeared to be so,
utterly done up that he would willingly have come aboard as
he passed within two yards of us; but desponding as he was,
it would have been positive cruelty to have added him to the
number of our party.

The next event of the day was dinner, in which Charlie
outrivalled himself by a tremendous fry of onions and sliced
Bologna sausage, and a piece of pig, which had not decided
whether it was to be pork or bacon.

Having been fourteen hours beating some twenty-seven
miles, I was landed at last at a wharf in the suburbs of the
town about five o'clock in the evening. On my way to the
Battle House I met seven distinct companies marching through
the streets to drill, and the air was filled with sounds of bugling
and drumming. In the evening a number of gentlemen
called upon me to inquire what I thought of Fort Pickens
and Pensacola, and I had some difficulty in parrying their
very home questions, but at last adopted a formula which appeared
to please them—I assured my friends I thought it
would be an exceedingly tough business whenever the bombardment
took place.

One of the most important steps which I have yet heard of
has excited little attention, namely, the refusal of the officer
commanding Fort MacHenry, at Baltimore, to obey a writ of
habeas corpus issued by a judge of that city for the person of
a soldier of his garrison. This military officer takes upon
himself to aver there is a state of civil war in Baltimore,
which he considers sufficient legal cause for the suspension of
the writ.