This was by far the most anxious time we had gone through. We had to thank the commandant and garrison of Fort Fisher for our escape. Having paid our gallant rescuers a visit, we took a pilot on board and steamed up to Wilmington. Cape Clear river at this time was full of all sorts of torpedoes and obstructions, put down to prevent any gun-boats from approaching the town of Wilmington, should the forts at its entrance be taken possession of by the enemy. And as the whereabouts of these obstructions were only known to certain pilots, we had to be careful to have the right man on board. We got up in safety, and finding that our cargo of cotton was ready, made haste to unload and prepare for sea again as quickly as possible.

There was nothing interesting in Wilmington, which is a large straggling town built on sand-hills. At the time I write of the respectable inhabitants were nearly all away from their homes, and the town was full of adventurers of all descriptions; some who came to sell cotton, others to buy at enormous prices European goods brought in by blockade-runners. These goods they took with them into the interior, and, adding a heavy percentage to the price, people who were forced to buy them paid most ruinous prices for the commonest necessaries of life.

On this occasion we spent a very short time at Wilmington, and having taken our cargo of cotton, we went down the river to the old waiting place under the friendly batteries of Fort Fisher. We had scarcely anchored when a heavy fog came on; as the tide for going over the bar did not suit till three o'clock in the morning, which I considered an awkward time, inasmuch as we should only have two hours of darkness left in which to get our offing from the land, I determined to go out in the fog and take my chance of the thick weather lasting. I calculated that if we had met with any cruisers, they would not have been expecting us, and so would have been under low steam.

I was told by every one that I was mad to venture out, and all sorts of prognostications were made that I should come to grief, in spite of which omens of disaster, however, I went over the bar at four o'clock in the afternoon in a fog, through which I could hardly see from one end of the ship to the other, and took my chance. As we went on the fog seemed to get if possible still thicker, and through the night it was impossible for us to see anything or anything to see us.

In the morning we had an offing of at least a hundred and twenty miles, and nothing was in sight. We made a most prosperous voyage, and arrived at Nassau safely in seventy-two hours, thus completing our third round trip.



CHAPTER XIV.

LAST DAYS ON THE 'D——N.'

As no vessel had succeeded since the blockade was established in getting into Savannah (a large and flourishing town in Georgia, situated a few miles up a navigable river of the same name), where there was a famous market for all sorts of goods, and where plenty of the finest sea-island cotton was stored ready for embarkation, and as the southern port pilots were of opinion that all that was required to ensure success was an effort to obtain it, I undertook to try if we could manage to get the 'D——n' in.

The principal difficulty we had to contend with was that the Northerners had possession of a large fortification called Pulaski, which, being situated at the entrance of the river, commanded the passage up to the town.

To pass this place in the night seemed easy work enough, as it would be hard for the sentry to make a vessel out disguised as we were; but to avoid the shoals and sand-banks at the river's mouth, in a pitch-dark night, seemed to me, after carefully studying the chart, to be a most difficult matter. This, however, was the pilot's business; all we captains had to do was to avoid dangers from the guns of ships and forts; or, if we could not avoid them, to stand being fired at.

The pilot we had engaged was full of confidence; so much so, that he refused to have any payment for his services until he had taken us in and out safely. I may as well mention that there were few if any blockading vessels off Savannah river, the Northerners having perfect confidence, I presume, in Fort Pulaski and the shoals which surrounded the entrance of the river being sufficient to prevent any attempt at blockade-running succeeding. The lights in the ship off Port Royal, a small harbour in the hands of the Northern Government, a few miles from the entrance to Savannah, were as bright as in the time of peace, and served as a capital guide to the river's mouth. After two days' run from Nassau we arrived without accident to within twenty miles of the low land through which the Savannah river runs, and at dark steered for the light-vessel lying off Port Royal. Having made it out, in fact steaming close up to it, we shaped our course for Fort Pulaski, using the light as a point of departure, the distance by the chart being twelve miles. We soon saw its outlines looming through the darkness ahead, and formidable though it looked, it caused me no anxiety, compared with the danger we seemed to be in from the shoalwater and breakers being all around us. However, the pilot who had charge of such matters seemed comfortable enough.

So we went cautiously along, and in ten minutes would have been past danger, at all events from the batteries on the fort, when one of the severest storms I ever remember of wind and rain, accompanied by thunder and lightning, came on, and enveloped us in a most impenetrable darkness. Knowing that we were surrounded by most dangerous shoals, and being then in only fifteen feet water, I felt our position to be a very perilous one. The pilot had by this time pretty well lost his head; in fact, it would have puzzled anyone to say where we were. So we turned round and steered out to sea again, by the same way we had come in; and when we were as near as we could guess twenty miles from land, we let go our anchor in fifteen fathoms water.

Then came on a heavy gale of wind accompanied by a thick fog, which lasted three days and nights. I never in my life passed such an unpleasant time, rolling our gunnels under, knowing that we were drifting, our anchor having dragged, but in what direction it was difficult to judge; unable to cook, through the sea we had shipped having put our galley-fire out; and, worse than all, burning quantities of coal, as we had to keep steam always well up, ready for anything that might happen.

One day it cleared up for half an hour about noon, and we managed to get meridian observations, which showed us that we had drifted thirty miles of latitude, but we still remained in ignorance of our longitude. On the fourth day the gale moderated, the weather cleared up, and we ascertained our position correctly by observations.

When it was dark we steered for the light-vessel off Port Royal, meaning, as before, to make her our point of departure for the entrance of the river. But we went on and on, and we could not see the glimmer of a light or even anything of a vessel (we found out afterwards that the light-ship had been blown from her moorings in the gale). This was a nice mess. The pilot told us that to attempt to run for the entrance without having the bearings of the light to guide us would have been perfect madness. We had barely enough coals to take us back to Nassau, and if we had remained dodging about, waiting for the light-vessel to be replaced, we should have been worse off for fuel, of which we had so little that if we had been chased on our way back we should certainly have been captured.

So we started for Nassau, keeping well in shore on the Georgia and Florida coast. Along this coast there were many small creeks and rivers where blockade-running in small crafts, and even boats, was constantly carried on, and where the Northerners had stationed several brigs and schooners of war, who did the best they could to stop the traffic. Many an open boat has run over from the northernmost island of the Bahamas group, a distance of fifty miles, and returned with one or two bales of cotton, by which her crew were well remunerated.

We had little to fear from sailing men-of-war, as the weather was calm and fine, so we steamed a few miles from the shore, all day passing several of them, just out of range of their guns. One vessel tried the effect of a long shot, but we could afford to laugh at her.

The last night we spent at sea was rather nervous work. We had reduced our coals to about three-quarters of a ton, and had to cross the Gulf Stream at the narrow part between the Florida coast and the Bahamas, a distance of twenty-eight miles, where the force of the current is four knots an hour. Our coals were soon finished. We cut up the available spars, oars, &c., burnt a hemp cable (that by the way made a capital blaze), and just managed to fetch across to the extreme western end of the group of islands belonging to Great Britain, where we anchored.

We couldn't have steamed three miles further. On the wild spot where we anchored there was fortunately a small heap of anthracite coal, that probably had been part of the cargo of some wreck, of which we took as much as would carry us to Nassau, and arrived there safely. Thus the attempt to get into Savannah was a failure. It was tried once afterwards by a steamer which managed to get well past the fort, but which stuck on a sand-bank shortly after doing so, and was captured in the morning.

It is not my intention to inflict on my readers any more anecdotes of my own doings in the 'D——n;' suffice it to say that I had the good luck to make six round trips in her, in and out of Wilmington, and that I gave her over to the chief officer and went home to England with my spoils. On arriving at Southampton, the first thing I saw in the 'Times' was a paragraph headed, 'The Capture of the "D——n."' Poor little craft! I learned afterwards how she was taken, which I will relate, and which will show that she died game.

The officer to whom I gave over charge was as fine a specimen of a seaman as well can be imagined, plucky, cool, and determined, and by the way he was a bit of a medico, as well as a sailor; for by his beneficial treatment of his patients we had very few complaints of sickness on board. As our small dispensary was close to my cabin, I used to hear the conversation that took place between C—— and his patients. I will repeat one.

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

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

C. 'Oh, all over you, are they; that's bad.'

Then, during the pause, it was evident something was being mixed up, and I could hear C—— say: 'Here, take this, and come again in the evening.' (Exit patient.) Then C. said to himself: 'I don't think he'll come again; he has got two drops of the croton. Skulking rascal, pains all over him, eh!' I never heard the voice of that patient again; in fact, after a short time we had no cases of sickness on board. C—— explained to me that the only medicine he served out, as he called it, was croton oil; and that none of the crew came twice for treatment.

Never having run through the blockade as the commander of a vessel (though he was with me all the time and had as much to do with our luck as I had), he was naturally very anxious to get safely through. There can be no doubt that the vessel had lost much of her speed, for she had been very hardly pushed on several occasions. This told sadly against her, as the result will show. On the third afternoon after leaving Nassau she was in a good position for attempting the run when night came on. She was moving stealthily about waiting for the evening, when suddenly, on the weather, which had been hitherto thick and hazy, clearing up, she saw a cruiser unpleasantly near to her, which bore down under steam and sail, and it soon became probable that the poor little 'D——n's' twin screws would not save her this time, well and often as they had done so before.

The cruiser, a large full-rigged corvette, was coming up hand over hand, carrying a strong breeze, and the days of the 'D——n' seemed numbered, when C—— tried a ruse worthy of any of the heroes of naval history.

The wind, as I said, was very fresh, with a good deal of sea running. On came the cruiser till the 'D——n' was almost under her bows, and shortened sail in fine style. The moment the men were in the rigging, going aloft to furl the sails, C—— put his plan into execution. He turned his craft head to wind, and steamed deliberately past the corvette at not fifty yards' distance. She, with great way on, went nearly a quarter of a mile before she could turn.

I have it from good authority that the order was not given to the marines on the man-of-war's poop to fire at the plucky little craft who had so fairly out-manoeuvred the cruiser, for out-manoeuvred she was to all intents and purposes. The two or three guns that had been cast loose during the chase had been partially secured, and left so while the men had gone aloft to furl the sails, so that not a shot was fired as she went past. Shortly after she had done so, however, the cruiser opened fire with her bow guns, but with the sea that was running it could do no harm, being without any top weights. The 'D——n' easily dropped the corvette with her heavy spars astern, and was soon far ahead; so much so that when night came on the cruiser was shut out of sight in the darkness.

After this the 'D——n' deserved to escape, but it was otherwise fated. The next morning when day broke she was within three miles of one of the new fast vessels, which had come out on her trial trip, flying light, alas! She had an opportunity of trying her speed advantageously to herself. She snapped up the poor 'D——n' in no time, and took her into the nearest port. I may mention that the 'D——n' and her captain were well known and much sought after by the American cruisers. The first remark that the officer made on coming aboard her was: 'Well, Captain Roberts, so we have caught you at last!' and he seemed much disappointed when he was told that the captain they so particularly wanted went home in the last mail. The corvette which had chased and been cheated by the 'D——n' the day before was lying in the port into which she was taken. Her captain, when he saw the prize, said: 'I must go on board and shake hands with the gallant fellow who commands that vessel!' and he did so, warmly complimenting C—— on the courage he had shown, thus proving that he could appreciate pluck, and that American naval men did not look down on blockade-running as a grievous sin, hard work as it gave them in trying to put a stop to it. They were sometimes a little severe on men who, after having been fairly caught in a chase at sea, wantonly destroyed their compasses, chronometers, &c., rather than let them fall into the hands of the cruiser's officers. I must say that I was always prepared, had I been caught, to have made the best of things, to have given the officers who came to take possession all that they had fairly gained by luck having declared on their side, and to have had a farewell glass of champagne with the new tenant at the late owner's expense. The treatment received by persons captured engaged in running the blockade differed very materially. If a bona fide American man-of-war of the old school made the capture, they were always treated with kindness by their captors. But there were among the officers of vessels picked up hurriedly and employed by the Government a very rough lot, who rejoiced in making their prisoners as uncomfortable as possible. They seemed to have only one good quality, and this was that there were among them many good freemasons, and frequently a prisoner found the advantage of having been initiated into the brotherhood.

The 'D——n's' crew fell into very good hands, and till they arrived at New York were comfortable enough; but the short time they spent in prison there, while the vessel was undergoing the mockery of a trial in the Admiralty Court, was far from pleasant. However, it did not last very long—not more than ten days; and as soon as they were free most of them went back to Nassau or Bermuda ready for more work. C—— came to England and told me all his troubles. Poor fellow! I am afraid his services were not half appreciated as they ought to have been, for success, in blockade-running as in everything else, is a virtue, whereas bad luck, even though accompanied with the pluck of a hero, is always more or less a crime not to be forgiven.



CHAPTER XV.

RICHMOND DURING THE SIEGE.

After the excitement of the last six or eight months I could not long rest in England, satisfied with the newspaper accounts of the goings on in the blockade-running world. So I got the command of a new and very fast paddle-wheel vessel, and went out again. The American Government had determined to do everything in its power to stop blockade-running, and had lately increased the force of blockaders on the southern coast by some very fast vessels built at New York. Being aware of this, some of the first shipbuilders in England and Scotland were put, by persons engaged in blockade-running, on their mettle, to try and build steamers to beat them, and latterly it became almost a question of speed, especially in the daylight adventures, between blockaders and blockade-runners.

Some of the vessels on this side of the water were constructed regardless of any good quality but speed, consequently their scantling was light, and their seagoing qualities very inferior. Many of them came to grief; two or three swamped at sea; others, after being out a few days, struggled back into Queenstown, the lamest of lame ducks; while some got out as far as Nassau quite unfit for any further work.

My vessel was one of the four built by R—— and G—— of Glasgow, and was just strong enough to stand the heavy cross sea in the Gulf Stream. She was wonderfully fast, and, taking her all in all, was a success. On one occasion I had a fair race in the open day with one of the best of the new vessels that the American Government had sent out to beat creation wherever she could meet it, and I fairly ran away from her.

On arriving at Wilmington in my new vessel I started to have a look at Richmond, which city was then besieged on its southern and eastern sides by General Grant, who, however, was held in check by Lee at Petersburg, a small town situated in an important position about eighteen miles from the capital. To get to Richmond was not easily accomplished without making a long detour into the interior (for which we had no time), for the outposts of the contending armies disputed possession of the last forty miles of the railroad between Wilmington and Petersburg, the latter town being on the line to Richmond. As telegraphic communication was stopped, it was a difficult matter to ascertain, day by day, whether a train could pass safely.

We had in our party the young General Custos Lee, a nephew of the Confederate commander-in-chief, on his way to his uncle's headquarters, who kindly offered his assistance in getting us through. When we arrived at a station some forty miles from Richmond we found, as we feared would be the case, our further progress by rail impracticable, but we got hold of a couple of waggons drawn by mules, into which we managed to stow ourselves and baggage the latter, by the way, being of considerable importance, as it contained several cases of drinkables, not to be obtained for love or money where we were going to. We travelled through all sorts of by-lanes, bumped almost to pieces for four miles, steering in the direction of the headquarters of the cavalry outposts, which were commanded by a celebrated raiding officer, also a nephew of the commander-in-chief. At last we found ourselves in a beautiful green valley surrounded by thick woods, where the general and his staff were quartered. He had with him two or three thousand cavalry, who, in spite of their bad clothing and somewhat hungry appearance, were as fine-looking a body of men as one would wish to see.

The general and his staff gave us a hearty welcome. Poor fellows, it was all they had to offer! We on our part produced sundry cases of sardines, Bologna sausages, and other tempting condiments wherewith to make a feast.

The drink we mixed in two horse buckets cleaned up for the occasion; a dozen or so of claret, a couple of bottles of brandy, and half a dozen of soda water, the whole cooled with two or three lumps of ice (of which article, as if in mockery, the Southerners had heaps). All these good things were duly appreciated, not only by our new friends, who for months past had tasted nothing but coarse rye-bread and pork washed down with water, but also by well-shaken travellers like ourselves. Lying on the grass in that lovely spot, it seemed as if the war and all its horrors were for the moment forgotten. There were several Englishmen among the officers composing the staff, who had (they said) come out here to see active service, which they unquestionably had found to their hearts' content. They seemed the sort of men who would do credit to their country. I often wonder what has become of them; in one of them I was particularly interested. He said his name was Cavendish, but it may have been a nom de guerre.

While we were in the camp a picket came in, whose officer reported having had a skirmish with the enemy, in which the Northerners had been whipped. The way the cavalry outposts engaged with each other was curious enough. The ground they met on did not admit of cavalry charges being made, as thick underwood covered the country for miles round. So, when they were inclined for a brush, they dismounted, tied their horses to trees, and skirmished in very open lines, every man picking out his special enemy. When they had had enough of it, they picked up their killed and wounded, and, mounting their horses, rode away.

After passing four or five hours with our cavalry friends we bade them good-bye, and started (still accompanied by our valuable companion, the young general) on our way to the headquarters of the army, where we were to pass the night. It was well for us that we travelled in such good company, for having to pass all along the outskirts of the Southern army, we were constantly stopped and interrogated by patrols and pickets. Besides which we were sometimes disagreeably near to the outposts of the 'boys in blue,' as Grant's men were called. Having arrived very late in the evening at our destination, we bivouacked under the trees close to the headquarters of the general commanding, who was away at the front, and not expected back till the next evening. The rattle of musketry and the boom of heavy guns all through the night reminded us of our vicinity to the theatre of war, and somewhat disturbed our rest. But if we were a little nervous, we took care not to show it. In the morning we started in our waggons, and, after travelling a few miles across the country, came to the railway that connected the camp with Richmond. A train shortly afterwards picked us up and landed us at the capital of Virginia, where we took up our quarters at a comfortable-looking hotel. There was more to drink and eat here than at Charleston, consequently people had cheerful countenances. Liquor was, however, dear, brandy being sold at twenty-five shillings per bottle, it having to be run through the blockade. Here we found that the people had that wonderful blind confidence in the Southern cause which had mainly supported them through all difficulties.

At this moment, though a line of earthworks hurriedly thrown up in a few hours at Petersburg was nearly all that kept Grant's well-organised army from entering the capital; though the necessaries of war, and even of life, were growing alarmingly short; though the soldiers were badly fed, and only half-clothed or protected from the inclemency of the weather (one blanket being all that was allowed to three men), still every one seemed satisfied that the South would somehow or other gain the day, and become an independent nation.

While in Richmond I had the pleasure of making the acquaintance of the talented correspondent of the 'Times,' who, although in a position to look on calmly at passing events, was so carried away by his admiration of the wonderful pluck shown by the Southerners, and by the general enthusiasm of the people among whom he lived, that he allowed himself to be buoyed up with the hope that something would eventually turn up in their favour, and in his letters never seemed to despair. Had he done otherwise he would have stood alone, so he swam with the tide; whereas all of us, especially those who were mere lookers-on, should have seen the end coming months before we were obliged to open our eyes to the fact that it was come. Through his acquaintance with the big-wigs, we managed to get a few of them to accept an invitation to a feed, as we could offer luxuries such as could not be found in Richmond.

Some of the first men in the Confederacy honoured us with their company, and made themselves uncommonly agreeable, seeming quite a jolly set of fellows. I fear that they have nearly all come to grief since then, except Mr. Benjamin, the Minister of Foreign Affairs, who before his death, which occurred several years after the time that I write, made himself a name in England worthy of his high talents and education.

I had the honour, while in Richmond, of being invited to a tea party by Mrs. Davis, the President's wife, which I thought very interesting. The ladies were all dressed in deep mourning; some (the greater part) for the sad reason that they had lost near and dear relatives in the wretched war; the others, I suppose, were in mourning for their country's misfortunes. Mrs. Davis moved about the room saying something civil to every one, while the President, though a stern-looking man who never smiled, tried to make himself agreeable to his guests, and gave one the idea of a thorough gentleman. I saw there military officers who had lately come from the front, surrounded by groups of people anxious for news; delegates from distant seceding States; messengers from Hood's army, about which many were beginning to be anxious; sympathising foreigners, government officials, and many others. The whole of the conversation naturally related to the prospects of the cause, and no one would have guessed from what he heard in President Davis's house that the end was so near.

I was anxious before my return to see something of the army that had so long defended Richmond. So I only remained a few days at the capital, after which I left it and its, alas! too confiding inhabitants, and made my way as best I could to the headquarters of the commander-in-chief. There I presented my letters of introduction to General Lee.

It would perhaps be impertinence on my part to attempt to eulogise the character of this excellent man and good soldier, who, most thoroughly believing in the justice of the Southern cause, had sacrificed everything he possessed in its behalf, and had thrown all his energy and talent into the scale in its favour. Many who knew him well have done and will continue to do justice to his patriotism and self-denial. I had a very long conversation with him, which I wish I could repeat without being guilty of a breach of confidence, as evidence of the sensible notions he had formed of the state of affairs in the South. He was the only man I met during my travels who took a somewhat gloomy view of the military prospects of the country—of which, as a soldier, there could be no better judge.

After spending twenty-four hours in the camp, we went to the railway station to see if we could get places for Wilmington. We found that the line was in the hands of the Southerners, and that although the 'boys in blue' had a vulgar habit of firing into the carriages as they passed, the trains were running each night. But a train running and a non-combatant passenger getting a place in a carriage were widely different things, every available seat being taken up by sick and wounded soldiers. I made a frantic effort to get into the train somehow, and after a severe struggle succeeded in scrambling into a sort of horse-box and sat me down on a long deal box, which seemed rather a comfortable place to sleep on. It was pitch dark when I got into the train, and we were obliged to keep in the dark until we had run the gauntlet of the Northern pickets, who favoured us with a volley or two at a long range from the hills overlooking the railway. When we were clear of them I lighted a match, and to my horror found that I was comfortably lounging on a coffin. I wished I had not thrown a light on the subject, but by degrees, becoming accustomed I suppose to my position, I sank into a comfortable sleep and was really quite sorry when, on arriving at some station just before daylight, people came to remove my peculiar though far from uncomfortable couch. I felt its loss the more, for in its place they put a poor fellow wounded nearly to death, whose moans and cries were, beyond anything, distressing. We were a long time getting to Wilmington, as it was necessary to stop and repair most of the bridges on the line before the train could venture over them, an operation at which all passengers sound in wind and limb had to assist.

On arriving there we found all the world in a state of great excitement, on account of there having been a terrible fire among the cotton lying on the quays ready for embarkation, supposed to have been the work of an incendiary.

The recollections of my last proceedings in the blockade-running are far from pleasant, and I shall pass them over as briefly as possible.

When we had only the American Government cruisers to fear, we enjoyed the excitement in the same way as a man enjoys fox-hunting (only, by the way, we were the fox instead of the huntsmen), but when dire disease, in the worst form that Yellow Jack could take, stalked in amongst us, and reduced our numbers almost hourly, things became too serious to be pleasant.

However, before the fever showed itself we made one successful round trip in the new vessel (in and out) in capital form, having some exciting chases and little adventures, all very similar to what I have described before, the vessel doing credit to her designers on all occasions. We landed one thousand one hundred and forty bales of cotton at Bermuda, and it was after we had started from Wilmington on our second trip that the horrid yellow fever broke out among us. I believe that every precaution was taken by the Government of the island to prevent the disease from spreading, but increased by the drunkenness, dissipation, and dirty habits of the crews of the blockade-runners, and the wretchedly bad drainage of the town of St. George, it had lately broken out with great violence, and had spread like wildfire, both on the shore and among the shipping. It must have been brought on board our ship by some of the men, who had been spending much time on shore; we had not been twenty-four hours at sea before the fever had got deadly hold on our crew.

We went to Halifax, where we landed our sick and inhaled some purer air; but it was of no avail. The fever was in the vessel and we could not shake it off. The poor fellows as soon as we were out at sea again began to drop off. I never can forget an incident of that voyage, which, as it could only have happened during blockade-running times, I will mention, melancholy though it was. Two men died in the middle watch one night, when we were in very dangerous waters. Their bodies were wrapped in rough shrouds, ready to be committed to the deep when daylight broke, as we dared not show a light whereby to read the Funeral Service. I never waited so anxiously or thought the dawn so long in coming. I was waiting with my Prayer-book in my hands straining my eyes to make out the service; the men with their hats off, standing by the bodies, ready to ease them down into the sea. Our minds I fear wandered towards the danger that existed (almost to a certainty) of a cruiser making us out by the same light that enabled us to perform our sad office. However, as soon as there was light enough, the service was read without any indecent hurry, and fortunately nothing was in sight to disturb us for several hours afterwards.

It was miserable work. That morning about seven o'clock a man came up from the engine-room, and while trying to say something to me fell down in a fit, and was dead in half an hour. There was quite a panic among us all, and as if to make things worse to the superstitious sailors, whenever we stopped several horrid sharks immediately showed themselves swimming round the vessel. The men lost all heart, and would I think have been thankful to have been captured, as a means of escape from what they believed to be a doomed vessel. Taking into consideration that if we got into Wilmington we should, with this dreadful disease on board, have been put into almost interminable quarantine (for the inhabitants of Wilmington having been decimated before by yellow fever, which was introduced by blockade-runners, had instituted the most severe sanitary laws), I determined to go back to Halifax.

On arriving there I was taken very ill with yellow fever, and on my recovery made up my mind to give up blockade-running for ever and all. The game indeed was fast drawing to a close. Its decline was caused in the first by the impolitic behaviour of the people at Wilmington, who, professedly acting under orders from the Confederate Government at Richmond, pressed the blockade-runners into their service to carry out cotton on Government account, in such an arbitrary manner that the profit to their owners, who had been put to an enormous expense and risk in sending vessels in, was so much reduced that the ventures hardly paid. And when at last Fort Fisher was taken, and thus all blockade-running entirely put an end to, the enterprise had lost much of its charm; for, unromantic as it may seem, much of that charm consisted in money-making.

However, I will mention one or two instances to show what the love of enterprise will lead men to do, and with these I will close my narration.

On the first night of the attack on Fort Fisher, which it may be remembered was a failure entirely through bad management, though its little garrison fought like lions, a blockade-runner unaware of what was going on, finding that the blockading squadron was very near inshore and hearing a great deal of firing, kept creeping nearer to the fort, till she was near enough to make out what they were doing. Judging rightly that they would never suspect that any attempt would be made to run the blockade at such a time, she joined a detachment of gun-boats and went deliberately in as one of them. When they, being repulsed, had steamed away, our friend remained at anchor under the fort, much to the astonishment of the garrison. It would have been rather awkward if the fort had been taken, but in such times no one looks very far ahead.

Another vessel went out from Wilmington the same night, and was unmolested. But fortune does not always favour the brave. Fort Fisher was at last taken unbeknownst, as the sailors say, to the blockade-runners at Nassau or Bermuda, at which places the blindest confidence was still felt in everything connected with the fortunes of the South, and where to whisper an opinion that any mishap might happen to Wilmington was positively dangerous. The crafty Northerners placed the lights for going over the bar as usual. The blockade-runners came cautiously on, and congratulating themselves at seeing no cruisers ran gaily into the port. The usual feasting and rejoicings were about to commence when a boat full of armed men came alongside, and astonished them by telling them that they were in the lion's mouth. This happened to four or five vessels before the news had reached the islands. It was hard lines, no doubt, but quite fair play. It was the blockaders' turn to laugh now.



CHAPTER XVI.

THE LAND BLOCKADE.

I have now come to the end of my blockade-running yarns. I have endeavoured to avoid giving offence to anyone: to the American officers and men who manned the cruisers I can, as a nautical man, truly and honestly give the credit of having most zealously performed their hard and wearisome duty. It was not their fault that I did not visit New York at the Government's expense; but the old story that 'blockades, to be legal, must be efficient,' is a tale for bygone days. So long as batteries at the entrance of the port blockaded keep ships at a respectable distance, the blockade will be broken.

A practical suggestion that my experience during the time I was a witness of the war in America would lead me to make is, that, both for the purposes of war and of blockade, speed is the most important object to attain. Towards the end of that contest, blockade-running became much more difficult, in fact, was very nearly put a stop to, not by the ports becoming more effectually closed to traffic, but by the sea being literally covered with very fast vessels, who picked up many blockade-runners at sea during the daytime, especially when they had their heavy cargoes of cotton on board. The Americans are also perfectly alive to the fact that, for purposes of war, speed is all important. An American officer of rank once remarked to me: 'Give me a fifteen-knot wooden vessel armed with four heavy guns of long range, and I'll laugh at your lumbering iron-clads.' Perhaps he had prize-money in view when he said so; or, what is still more important, he may have felt how easily such vessels as those he proposed would sweep the seas of foreign privateers. In these views I can but think he was right and far-seeing. Time will show.

It may have struck my readers as strange that, in a country with so large an inland boundary, the necessaries of life and munitions of war could not have been introduced into the Southern States by their extensive frontiers: but it is only a just tribute to the wonderful energy shown by the Northern Americans during the civil war, to state that the blockade by land was as rigid as that enforced by their fleets; and almost as much risk was run by persons who broke the land blockade as by those who evaded the vigilance of the cruisers at sea. The courses of the large inland rivers were protected by gun-boats, and on account of the rapids and other impediments, such as snags, with which they were filled, the fords or passes for boats were few and far between, and thus easily guarded; besides which, it was always a difficult matter to avoid the pickets belonging to either party, who were very apt to suspect a man they found creeping about without any ostensible object, and anyone suspected of being a spy in those days had a short shrift and a long rope applied before he knew where he was. More from a spirit of enterprise than from any other reason, I determined to see what the land blockade was like, and while at Richmond, happening to meet another adventurous individual also so inclined, we commenced our plan of campaign.

First of all (by the way, I ought to mention that we were both nautical parties) we engaged a pilot, thereby meaning a man who had a canoe or two stowed away in different parts of the woods, and who was well acquainted with the passes on the river. Our amiable friend, the correspondent of the 'Times.' showed so much confidence in our success that he entrusted to our care a packet of despatches, which were intended, if we got through successfully, to delight the eyes of the readers of the 'Thunderer' some weeks afterwards.

We had to buy a horse and buggy, as naturally enough no one would let them out on hire for such an enterprise; besides, those were not days when men let out anything on hire that they could not keep in sight. However, we sent a man on before us, in company with the pilot, to a station some miles from the frontier, whose business it was to bring the trap back when we had done with it. We stowed in our haversacks a pair of dry stockings, a good stock of tobacco, and a couple of bottles of brandy, against the road; we also had passes to produce in the event of questions being asked by the patrols on the Southern side of the frontier.

All being ready, we started, leaving Richmond at four o'clock in the morning. We travelled on a long, dreary, dusty road all day, stopping about noon for two hours at a free nigger's hut, where we got some yams and milk, and about sunset arrived at the station above mentioned, at which we were to dismiss our conveyance; and right glad we were to get rid of it, for we were bumped to death by its dreadful oscillations.

At this station our pilot was waiting for us. There were also bivouacking here a picket of cavalry, who told us they had seen some of the enemy's patrols that morning, scouring about on the opposite bank of the river just where we proposed to land. Somehow or other, people always seem to take a pleasure in telling you disagreeable things at a time when you rather want encouragement than fear instilled into you. We had some supper, consisting of eggs and bacon; and at nine o'clock, it being then pitch dark, the pilot informed us it was time to start. I must say I should have been more comfortable if I had been on the bridge of my little craft, just starting over the bar at Wilmington, with the probability of a broadside from a gun-boat saluting us in a very short time, than where I was. But it would never do to think of going back, so we crawled into the wood.

Our land pilot informed us that the bank of the river, from whence we should find a clear passage across, was about two miles distant. I never remember seeing or feeling anything to be compared with the darkness of that pine wood, but our guide seemed to have the eyes of a basilisk. We formed Indian file, our guide leading, and crept along as best we could. At last, after stealthily progressing for half an hour, a glimmer of starlight through the trees showed us that we were getting to the borders of the wood.

A few minutes afterwards we were desired to lie down. Feeling helpless as babes, we passively obeyed, and watched our guide as he moved about like a spectre in the long grass on the banks of the Potomac, looking for his canoe. At last he returned and whispered that the boat was all right, and we all crept like serpents to where it was concealed. Nothing could be heard but the wind blowing through the trees, and the discordant noises of frogs and other denizens of the swamp. So dark was the night that we could hardly see fifty yards across the river. I suppose this was all in our favour; but how our guide knew the marks by which to steer was a puzzle to me, and as I never meant to profit by this experience I asked no questions.

Not a word was spoken as we (myself and my friend) launched the canoe silently into the water and seated ourselves, or rather obeyed orders and lay down, the pilot sitting in the stern, with his face towards the bows of the boat, having a light paddle in his hand, which he worked wonderfully well and silently. The distance across the river was about three miles.

We shot ahead at a rapid pace for about five minutes, when suddenly, bump went the canoe against something. To lie flat down was to our guide the work of a second, and the canoe was at once transformed into a floating log.

Well it was so, for it seems we had struck a small boat that was fastened astern of the gun-boat guarding the river. That the noise of the collision had been heard on board was evident, for a sentry hailed, 'Boat ahoy!' and fired his musket, and one of those detestable bright lights which the American men-of-war have a nasty habit of showing flashed over the water, making everything visible for a hundred yards round. The current of the river, however, was very strong, and I fancy we had drifted out of the radius covered by the light, as we were fortunately not discovered; or perhaps the diligent watchman on board the man-of-war thought some huge crocodile or other monster had come in contact with their boat. Be that as it may, we were safe, and twenty minutes more paddling brought us to land on the opposite bank of the river; but unfortunately our little adventure had thrown us out of our line, or as we sailors should have called it, out of our course. We hauled the canoe out of the water, and hid her in the long grass. All we could see around us was a dismal swamp, with the dark wood in the background. Our guide honestly told us that having been thrown out of his 'reckoning' in regard to our position, to move from where we were before daybreak would be madness, so we took a pull at the brandy bottle, lighted our pipes and waited patiently, having moved well in under cover of the long grass, so as to be out of sight of any vessel lying in the river near to us.

When the day dawned, our pilot after having reconnoitred told us that we were very well placed for starting for Washington; but that it would be impossible, on account of the patrols that were constantly watching the river's banks, for us to move during the daytime, so we were doomed to remain all day in the damp grass. Luckily we had put in our pockets at last night's supper some black bread and an onion or two; so we made the best of things, and so did the sandflies. How they did pitch into us, especially into me! I suppose the good living I had been accustomed to on board the blockade-runner, or my natural disposition to good condition, made me taste sweet. Several times during that fearful day I was tempted to rush out from my hiding-place, and defying patrols, gun-boat's crew, and all authorities, make my escape from that place of torture.

Anyone who has experienced the necessity of remaining quiet under such an infliction as an attack of millions of sandflies on a hot sunny day will appreciate my feelings. About one o'clock we got as a diversion from our tormentors a great fright. A boat's crew of a gun-boat lying about a mile distant from our retreat landed, and out of sheer idleness set fire to the grass about a hundred yards from where we were lying concealed.

We heard the crackling of the grass and thought of leaving our concealment at the risk of discovery; but our guide wisely remarked that the wind was the wrong way to bring the fire towards our hiding-place, so we felt safe. The feeling of security was more pleasant, because we distinctly heard the men belonging to the gun-boat conversing with others, who clearly were patrols on the river's bank.

The evening at last closed in, and as soon as it was quite dark we moved on, and after struggling through a thick wood for half an hour, got on the high road to Washington. We travelled by night, meeting occasional patrols, whom we dodged by either lying down or getting behind trees till they had passed.

We concealed ourselves carefully during the day, and on the third morning before daylight we were within half a mile of the city. As we got near the bridge close outside Washington, we tried our best to look like the rest of the people who were going on their ordinary business; and though somewhat severely scrutinised by the guard we managed to pass muster, and got safely into Washington, footsore, hungry, and regularly done up.

We went to a small inn that had been recommended to us when we were in Richmond, where probably they had some Southern proclivities. No questions were asked as to where we came from, though, I take it, the people of the house had a shrewd guess. We found ourselves among friends and perfectly safe from meddling inquiries.

Thus the land blockade was run. I do not think much experience was gained by this particularly unpleasant exploit, which after all there was no very great difficulty in performing, and I certainly prefer my own element.

After a short stay we made our way easily to New York, not feeling any anxiety from the fact of our being staunch Southerners in our opinions, inasmuch as there were numbers of sympathising friends wherever we went, more perhaps than the authorities were aware of. I stayed a few days in New York to recruit my strength after the fatigue of the journey, and saw all the sights and enjoyed all the pleasures of the most delightful city in the world, except perhaps Paris and London. I shall not attempt to give my readers any description of New York. This has already been done by abler pens than mine.

While in New York I was greatly struck with the calm confidence of the bulk of the Northerners in the ultimate success of their arms against the South. If I gained nothing else by running the land blockade, I at least got an insight into the enormous resources possessed by the North, and a knowledge of the unflinching determination with which the Federals were prepared to carry on the struggle to the end. I must confess that I left New York with my confidence that the Confederates would achieve their independence very much shaken.

Not being desirous of going through the risk and inconvenience of running the land blockade again, I returned to Nassau by steamer from New York.



CHAPTER XVII.

I ENTER THE TURKISH NAVY.

After superintending, as it were, the adventures just detailed, I found that there was still a year to pass before my time for service as a post-captain came on; so I determined on making a Continental tour to fill up the space. After wandering about in different countries, I more by accident than design visited Constantinople.

While there, I called upon that great statesman Fuad Pasha, the Grand Vizier of the Ottoman Empire, to whom I presented my letters of introduction. He received me most cordially, and, during our conversation, mentioned that for some years Turkey had had to deal with a serious insurrection in the island of Crete, which it was found difficult to suppress, owing to the assistance from without which the revolutionary party received from Greece; also on account of the somewhat doubtful laws existing as to blockade-running. For, although Turkish men-of-war were continually on the look-out, vessels mostly under the Greek flag, carrying warlike stores, provisions, &c., evaded the watch of the cruisers on one pretext or another, and so managed to keep a lively communication with the insurrectionary subjects of the Sultan in Crete. Only one vessel had been captured in flagrante delicto after a sharp fight, and had been condemned as a lawful prize.

The Turkish authorities were told that, according to international law, a blockade-running vessel could not be followed more than ten miles from the coast, though having been seen breaking the blockade, and that as soon as a blockade-runner was within four miles of any island not belonging to Turkey, she could not be touched, &c. &c.; in fact, laws were fabricated to defend the blockade-running, which fed the revolution to such an extent that, while it continued, it was hopeless to attempt to put down the revolt.

I accidentally hinted to His Highness, Fuad Pasha, that I thought the blockade-running could be put a stop to without infringing any law, especially where laws were so elastic. He seemed much struck with my remark, and asked me to call on him again in a few days. Now I had merely mentioned casually what I thought. I had no idea of anything serious resulting from our interview. I was indeed surprised on my return to His Highness by his saying: 'I have consulted His Majesty the Sultan, who desires me to tell you that if you would wish to take service with the Ottoman Government, arrangements can be made whereby you can do so, only you must take the risk and responsibility of offending your own people.'

I had to consider a little before replying. I bore in mind that there were some two hundred and fifty post-captains in the English navy clamouring for employment, and that there were at the moment I speak of only about forty employed. I remembered that for twenty-four years an English officer of the same rank as myself had held the post now offered to me, namely, that of Naval Adviser to the Turkish Government, that the post was just vacant through the retirement of Sir Adolphus Slade (who had served honourably for twenty years, and had retired from old age). I calculated in those days of profound peace there was more probability of active service in the Eastern world than elsewhere. So I answered: 'Well, your Highness, I am ready if the terms offered me are satisfactory.'

I may say they proved most satisfactory; so, to make a long story short, I accepted and was booked as a Turkish employe for five years, always retaining my rank and position as an English naval officer, and my nationality as a British subject.

I found afterwards, as regards my position as an English naval officer, I had somewhat reckoned without my host. It seems that this post was considered by the English Admiralty as one of their choice gifts, and many were the applicants for it on Sir A. Slade's retirement, so much so that their lordships made great capital of this appointment, and were furious at my action in the matter. They said I had 'cut out' a good old servant to whom they had intended to give it. They suggested my coming home at once, &c. &c. I didn't see it in the same light as their lordships, and I signified my determination to remain where I was; for which, as will be seen, they paid me off in course of time. Luckily, I could afford by the arrangement I had made with the Turkish Government to be in the Admiralty's bad books, and even the frowns of the English Ambassador did not affect me a bit. I believe they called me 'adventurer,' 'artful dodger,' &c., but it must be remembered that I was in every way as much entitled to this position as the Admiralty 'pet,' whoever he may have been.

From the day of signing my contract (which has been constantly renewed) to the time I write, some sixteen years, I never have had cause to regret the step I took.

Shortly after my installation as vice-admiral in the Turkish navy, it was decided that I should be sent to Crete to put a stop to the blockade-running. 'Set a thief to catch a thief,' as one of my, what may be called, unfriendly critics has written about me, and the remark was ben trovato at all events, for I certainly did know something about blockade-running.

I accordingly hoisted my flag in a fine fifty-gun wooden frigate, and arrived at Suda Bay, the principal port of Crete, where six or seven Turkish men-of-war were stationed, of which I took command. Here I heard all the naval officers had to say about the blockade, the impunity with which it was carried on, &c. I found, as I before mentioned, that the Turkish naval officers' hands were tied by all sorts of imaginary difficulties. They had most zealously done their duty while trying to stop the blockade-running. They had shown great pluck and endurance, but they always feared to break the law and so get the ever-bullied Turkish Government into trouble. Here I also heard of the triumphant manner in which the blockade-runners left the ports of Greece. How the Mayors of Syra, Poros, and other Greek towns, conducted, with flags flying, bands playing, and the hurrahs of the entire population, the hitherto triumphant blockade-running captains and crews to their ships, on the way to feed the flame of revolt against a nation with whom the Greeks professed to be on most friendly terms.

I heard all this, and was moreover told that if the blockade-running was stopped, the insurgents in Crete would at once lay down their arms for want of food and warlike stores.

I determined to stop it at all risks.

Picking out of my squadron a couple of fast despatch boats and a quick steaming corvette to accompany my flag-ship, I started on a cruise, and once out of sight of the harbour of Suda, steamed straight for Syra. Now this port had been the principal delinquent in fitting out and sending blockade-runners to Crete; so I thought that by going as it were to the starting-point, I should be somewhat nearer to my quarry than by waiting for them in Crete. Circumstances favoured me in the most marvellous manner. As morning broke the day after I left Suda, I was about eight miles from Syra harbour, steaming slowly, when I saw what made my heart leap into my mouth, viz., a regular blockade-runner exactly of the type used in the American war, going at full speed for Syra harbour.

He was outside my little squadron, and must pass within a mile or so ahead to get to his port.

A somewhat similar position I have so often seen, in fact, taken part in, of a craft running for dear life into Charleston or Wilmington, across the bows of blockading ships just at daylight. I saw that he was firing up all he knew, and was going at a tremendous speed. I signalled to my despatch boats to chase, and when my flag-ship was within about a mile and a half I fired a blank gun to make him show his colours. To this he replied by firing his long Armstrong gun with such effect that the shot cut away the stanchion of the bridge on which I was standing. Now, gallant fellow as he was, in doing this he was wrong; he should have shown his colours and run (if he knew he wasn't honest) for the shelter of a neutral flag, but not fired at a man-of-war, who in her duty as forming part of the police of the seas fires a blank gun asking for colours from a suspicious vessel. He undoubtedly committed an act of piracy and gave me a splendid hold on him.

My despatch boats chased the blockade-runner close to Syra harbour, both parties keeping up a warm running fight. When I recalled them, I found that this vessel was named the 'Enossis.' Her captain was a most courageous Greek, who thought of nothing but carrying his cargo and fighting to the last for his ship, evidently ignoring all laws, nor did he even think that on this occasion someone was acting against him who knew something of the rules of blockade, and who could have told him that an armed blockade-runner is a pirate, that is to say, if she uses her arms against a man-of-war.

I was so satisfied with what had occurred that I sent off one of my despatch boats to the Governor of Crete, telling him that he need not fear the blockade-runners any more, as they (the two others were lying in Syra harbour) had put themselves in so false a position that at all events for several weeks I could detain them at Syra. I knew that one week would suffice to stop the revolt in Crete, as without the blockade-runners the insurrectionists had positively nothing to eat.

(I may as well at once observe that I was perfectly justified in saying this, for within three days, no blockade-runner arriving at the island, the insurgents laid down their arms and begged for bread. And so ended the Cretan revolt.)

Having recalled the vessels I had sent to chase the 'Enossis' into Syra harbour, I steamed in the roads off that port, and anchored with three vessels.

I then sent to the authorities on shore at Syra, and demanded their assistance in arresting a vessel that had taken shelter in their port, which, as I stated in my despatch, had committed an act of piracy on the high seas, by firing at my flagship when the latter called upon her to show her colours by firing a blank gun. At the same time I informed the authorities of Syra that, as the companions of the 'Enossis' were in the harbour, I should allow none of them to go to sea until the question of that vessel's illegal action was cleared up. By doing this I took the wind out of the sails of the authorities of Syra. They of course were furious, and at once despatched a vessel to Athens for orders. At the same time they made a semblance of meeting my demand by stating that the 'Enossis' should be tried by international law. They also requested me to make my protest and to leave Syra, as the populace were in a state of excitement beyond their power of control. In this request all the Foreign Consuls joined.

I positively declined to leave; had I consented I am convinced the 'Enossis' and her companions would have left for Crete as soon as I was out of sight. In the meantime I sent a despatch boat to Smyrna with telegrams for Constantinople asking for assistance, stating my position. I remained off Syra with two ships, one being a despatch boat, watching the movements of the three blockade-runners, to whom I notified that I would sink them if they attempted to leave the port.

I often wonder they didn't make a rush for it on the first night of my arrival, when I was almost alone. The Greeks never want pluck. If they had done so, one vessel out of the three would certainly have escaped, taken food to the insurgents, and capsized all my calculations.

It merely corroborated my view of blockade-running peoples, namely, that they go for gain (some perhaps for love of enterprise); don't fight unless very hard pressed, and not always then if they are wise; that is what it should be. It is outrageous that adventurous persons not engaged in war should become belligerents, as well as carriers of arms and provisions to an enemy.

The first night I passed off Syra was one of great anxiety, as I had promised the Governor of Crete that no blockade-runner should go to the island.

In the morning a small steamer arrived from Athens with a Turkish official on board. He came to me pale as a sheet, and told me that as he left the Piraeus a Greek frigate was on the point of leaving for Syra, whose captain, officers, and crew had sworn to bring back Hobart Pasha dead or alive. Half an hour afterwards I got under weigh, and as I steamed about in the offing I saw the Greek frigate coming round the point.

It was a moment of intense excitement. The tops of the houses at Syra were covered with people. It looked like the old story of the 'Chesapeake' and 'Shannon,' where the people turned out to see the fine sport, and the band played, 'Yankee doodle dandy, oh!'

However, I steamed towards my supposed enemy, went almost alongside of him, expecting momentarily to receive his broadside, when to my astonishment and I must say satisfaction he steamed into the anchorage, and let go three anchors. This didn't look like fighting. I found afterwards that the Greek frigate had no powder on board. It was a shame to put her captain in so false a position, as everyone knows what gallant stuff the Greeks are made of, and swagger is a mistake where real pluck exists.

I felt for him very much, as he seemed so sorry for himself.

A few days after this I was reinforced by six or seven Turkish ironclads, and in fact commanded the position in spite of all remonstrances on the part of foreigners and other declared enemies of Turkish rule.

We went through the laughable farce of a trial of the 'Enossis' on board a vessel lying in port (I dare not land), which of course ended in nothing.

The Governor-General of Crete sent all the insurgents in Turkish ships to me to deal with, and this was the most difficult thing I had to do. Poor beggars, they were fine though misguided men. After giving them a good feed, for they were terribly hungry, I distributed them among the neighbouring Greek islands, and so finished the affair.

There are those who say that my acts off Syra were illegal, especially as to stopping the 'Enossis's' companions from leaving the port. All I can say is, the Greeks en masse, from the Government downwards, had paid so little regard to international law during three years, as regards their action in encouraging revolution in the territory of a friendly country, that a little stretch of the law on my part was quite justifiable.

While on the subject of Crete, which is always supposed to be in a chronic state of revolt, I would say a few words.

I maintain that the Cretan people, of whom I know a good deal, do not want an alliance with Greece, and if the always over-excited ambitious Greek committees would only keep quiet and give up agitation, the Cretans would be the happiest community in the Mediterranean.

While I commanded for more than a year a large squadron of Turkish ironclads stationed in Crete, I had many opportunities of judging as to the sentiments of the Cretans.

I never saw a more orderly, well-disposed people if let alone by agitators.

On my return to Constantinople the reception I received from several of the European Powers was most gratifying.

I received high honours in the shape of decorations, for having as they said by my conduct prevented a European war. My own country alone stood aloof from me. The Admiralty went so far as to tell me that if I did not immediately return to England, my name would be erased from the list of naval officers. An officer of high rank, a member of the Board of Admiralty, wrote to me a semi-official letter, in which he said, 'Unless you leave the Turkish service, you will be scratched off the list.' Feeling exceedingly hurt at such treatment, at a moment when I expected encouragement for having maintained the honour of my country while acting as a naval officer should have done, I wrote to him, 'You may scratch and be d——d.' This letter was, I think, very unfairly quoted against me some time afterwards in the House of Commons. However, my name was erased from the list of naval officers, and was not replaced there for several years. I was well and kindly received by His Majesty the Sultan, promoted to the rank of full admiral, and settled down to my work as a Turkish naval officer, head of the staff of the Imperial Navy.

It becomes a most delicate task to continue sketches of my life during the latter time that I have been in Turkey, because such anecdotes strike nearer home, that is to say, become more what may be called personal as regards my public and private doings. However, I will endeavour, somewhat briefly perhaps, to do so in a way that may be interesting to my readers, and offensive to no one.

It is not difficult to serve such masters as the Turks; they are always kind and considerate to strangers in their service, and if one avoids offending them in certain matters on which they are supposed to have prejudices, and if one while giving advice avoids offensive censure, it is easy to get on. While serving in Turkey my principal business has been relating to naval matters, regarding which I have had to propose certain progressive changes such as are being constantly introduced into foreign navies, more especially the English. These changes proposed by me have generally been accepted, and I can but think that many beneficial alterations have been introduced into the Turkish Navy tending to improve that service.

His Majesty the Sultan has named me one of his special A.D.C.'s, and in that capacity I have had at times and still have important duties.

His Majesty always treats me with the greatest kindness and consideration, and I have a sincere respect and affection for him, both as a sovereign, and, if I may presume to say so, as a friend.



CHAPTER XVIII.

THE WAR WITH RUSSIA.

In 1877 the war with Russia broke out, and through the absence of any powerful naval enemy, little in the way of hard fighting was done; still some very important service was performed by the Turkish fleet, much more so than is generally known.

In the first place we had to hold the Black Sea, with its extensive sea-board. We defended Sulina and Batoum against Russian attack by land, and by torpedo on the sea. We had to watch the little swift packet-boats equipped as men-of-war, which constantly made a rush from Sebastopol and Odessa (as they did, by the way, in the Crimean War, when twenty to thirty English and French ships were watching them), and when they could get a chance burnt some unfortunate little coasting craft, sending the crews of such vessels adrift in small boats to make the best of their way to the nearest land. In addition to the above-named services, the Turkish fleet was called upon constantly to transport large bodies of troops from port to port.

On one memorable occasion the Turkish men-of-war and transports conveyed the whole of Suleiman Pasha's army, consisting of forty thousand men, from the coast of Albania to Salonica, a distance of some eight hundred miles, within the short space of twelve days, a feat, I venture to say, unheard of in the naval annals of this century. Sulina was held safely by the Turkish fleet until the end of the war.

Batoum could not have been held by Dervish Pasha and his army had not the Turkish fleet been there to help him. In short, that fleet kept the command of the Black Sea during the whole of that disastrous war, cruising at times in the most fearful weather I have ever experienced, for twelve months in a sea almost without ports of refuge; and it is a remarkable fact that the Turks never lost a ship, constantly attacked though they were, as I shall show hereafter, by the plucky Russian torpedo boats, who frequently made rushes at them from Muscovite ports, and only saved from destruction through the precautions taken against these diabolical machines, which come and go like flashes of lightning. It is true that in the Danube two small Turkish vessels of war were destroyed by torpedoes, but it must be borne in mind the Danube was under military law, and that the look-out kept on board these vessels was not by any means what it should have been.

But I must repeat, as so many contrary reports have been spread, that no Turkish ironclad was injured by torpedoes in the Black Sea.

I will explain hereafter how many attacks were made with no result whatever. Some few days before the war broke out I was sent to examine the Danube from a professional point of view, and it was soon made clear to me that much could be done, in the way of defending that great estuary, had nautical experience and the splendid material of which the Turkish sailor is made of been properly utilised. But alas! I found that, contrary to the views of His Majesty the Sultan, a line of action was followed showing that pig-headed obstinacy and the grossest ignorance prevailed in the councils of those who had supreme command in that river. I found that my advice and that of competent Turkish officers, in comparatively subordinate positions like myself, was entirely ignored, and that few, if any, proper steps were taken to prevent the enemy's progress into Roumania, and later on, to his passing the Danube almost unopposed.

On the day that war was declared I was at Rustchuk, the headquarters of the Turkish army. On that occasion I made a final effort, by making propositions which events have proved would have arrested the advance of the enemy.

I was simply told to mind my own business, and ordered to immediately rejoin my ships, which were at the moment lying at the Sulina mouth of the Danube.

It was all very well to tell me to do this; but to do so was apparently not so easy of execution, for the reason that the Russians had no sooner declared war than they took possession of the Lower Danube, by planting fortifications on the hills commanding the river in the neighbourhood of Galatz and Ibraila, at the same time laying down torpedoes across the river in great quantities (as regards the latter, it was so reported, though in my opinion it was no easy matter so quickly to place torpedoes). I informed the military commanders of this; their answer was, 'Go, and rejoin your ships via Varna, if you will only get out of this; we don't want your advice.' By this time, however, my professional pride was wounded, and I determined to do something to show my contempt for them all.

The only thing left for me to do for the moment was a little blockade-running, so I resolved to bring my ship back past the Russian barrier in the Lower Danube at all risks, instead of tamely returning by land. So great was the jealousy against me that I almost think the Turkish authorities commanding in the Danube would have been pleased if I had failed, and so come to grief. I had with me a very fast paddle-steamer called the 'Rethymo'; her captain and crew were what the Turks always are—brave as lions and obedient as lambs.

I took on board a river pilot, whom I gave to understand that if he got me on shore I would blow his brains out. Before starting I sent for my officers and crew and told them of the perhaps unnecessary dangers we should run in passing the Russian barrier, and gave to all the option of leaving or going on. They decided to a man to go on. I arranged my time so as to pass Ibraila and Galatz during the night. We arrived to within thirty miles of the former place at about five o'clock in the evening, when I was met by a Turkish official who was leaving Ibraila on the war having broken out. He was fearfully excited, and begged of me on his knees not to go to what he called certain destruction. He told me that he had seen the Russians laying down torpedoes that same day, that the batteries were numerous, and that they were aware of my coming, &c., all of which I took with a considerably large grain of salt, and left him lamenting my mad folly, as he called it.

Now I must be candid. I did not feel the danger. I calculated that to put down torpedoes in a current such as was in the Danube would be a matter of time, and probably they would not succeed after all. I had a plan in my head for passing the batteries, so as to render them harmless. So in reality I was about to attempt no very impossible feat. Three hours after dusk we sighted the lights of Ibraila. The current was running quite five knots an hour; that, added to our speed of fifteen, made us to be going over the ground at about twenty knots. It was pitch dark, and I think it would have puzzled the cleverest gunner to have hit us, though they might have done so by chance. I determined not to give them that chance, by going so close under the bank that the guns could hardly be sufficiently depressed to hit us.

As we approached the batteries to my horror a flash of red flame came out of the funnel (that fatal danger in blockade-running), on which several rockets were thrown up from the shore, and a fire was opened at where the flame had been seen. Meanwhile we had shot far away from the place, and closed right under the batteries. I heard the people talking; every now and then they fired shot and musketry, but I hardly heard the whiz of the projectiles. My principal anxiety was that we might get on one of the many banks so common in the Danube, and I had perhaps a little fear of torpedoes, especially when we passed the mouths of the little estuaries that run into the Danube; once we just touched the ground, but thank goodness we quickly got free, and though fired at by guns and rifles, went on unhurt. It took us exactly an hour and forty minutes to pass dangerous waters, and the early summer morning was breaking as we cleared all danger. I could not resist turning round and firing a random shot at the banks studded with Russian tents, now that I was able to breathe freely again.

I must say that my pilot, whom I at first suspected of being a traitor in Russian pay, behaved splendidly.

He told me he had never passed such a night of fear and anxiety: what with my cocked pistol at his head and the constant fear of putting the vessel on a bank, he certainly had had a bad time. However, I rewarded him well. On arrival at Toultcha, a small town near the mouth of the Danube, still held by the Turks, I found telegrams from headquarters at Rustchuk (the place I had left), inquiring if Hobart Pasha had passed Ibraila and Galatz, and ordering that if he had done so he was immediately to leave the Danube.

I cannot express my annoyance, as even at that moment I could have brought a couple of small iron-clads that were lying at Sulina into the river and played 'old Harry' with the Russian army, then advancing into Roumania, via Galatz. The bridge near Galatz could certainly have been destroyed. It was hard on the gallant Turks, hard on the Sultan and his government, and hard on me, to see such magnificent chances thrown away. From that moment I trembled for the result of the war. I felt that, although the Turks had a splendid army, and a fleet even for a first-class European Power to be proud of, the obstinacy and stupidity of the commanders of the Danube were sure to cause disaster.

Unhappily my prognostications came true. In war the first blow is half the battle, and it was sad to see such glorious troops out-manoeuvred at the very outset. His Majesty the Sultan in his wisdom has justly punished by banishment and disgrace these men who, instead of covering the Turkish nation with glory through the deeds of its army, were the cause of the defeat of the finest troops in the world. That the Russians might and would have been beaten, had the means in the hands of those commanding the Turkish army being properly utilised, is as clear as day. However, it is not my business to comment on such matters.

I now return to my own element, and will endeavour to describe some of the occurrences of the war in the Black Sea. The Russians had three lines of action in those waters. First, to capture Sulina, and to destroy the squadron lying at anchor in its roadstead; second, to capture Batoum and its much-envied harbour; third, the somewhat undignified action of sending out fast vessels, mostly mail-boats, armed with a couple of guns, their object being to destroy the Turkish coasting trade. These vessels were most difficult to catch, as they always watched their opportunity to slip out of their strongholds when the Turkish ships were employed carrying troops, or otherwise engaged. There was, I venture to think, some illegality in this conduct of the Russian mail-boats.

These vessels were not regular men-of-war, and they did not take their prizes into port for adjudication, as is usual in war, always burning what they could catch and capture. However, during war I suppose all must be considered as fair play. While on the subject, I will recount one or two exploits performed by these enterprising mail-boats. When lying off Sulina, one of the ironclad corvettes under my command arrived from Constantinople, where her captain reported having chased a well-known Russian mail-steamer called the 'Vesta'; that they had exchanged a few shots, that he had not followed her because his deck was loaded with guns for the Sulina batteries. I thought no more about it till about a fortnight afterwards I saw in the 'Times' a paragraph headed, 'Turkish ironclad driven off and nearly destroyed by the Russian mail-boat cruiser "Vesta."' This paragraph, which was founded on the official report of the captain of the 'Vesta,' was most sensational. It gave a graphic description of how the 'Vesta' had engaged at close quarters a Turkish ironclad, killing her crew; how officers in European uniform had been seen directing the working of the ironclad's guns, &c.; how her sides were crimson with the torrents of blood pouring from her decks, and how she would have been surely captured had the 'Vesta' been provided with sufficient ammunition to enable her to continue the bloody fight. It added that the gallant Russian commander was received with the greatest enthusiasm on his arriving at Sebastopol, and immediately promoted to high rank and covered with decorations.

I could hardly believe my eyes when I read this utter nonsense. I know the Russians; they are brave and loyal fellows, and few indeed are there among them who have done (to say the least of it) so foolish an act as to make so unfounded a report.

However, the commander, whose name I will not mention, did not long wear his laurels. I suppose he trusted to the Turks saying nothing about it; but the truth was at last made public. A court-martial was assembled to try the case, and I believe he was dismissed from the service and deprived of his decorations. At all events I know for certain that he was disgraced by his superiors, and held up to ridicule by his brother officers. Serve him right! Swagger is always an error, and I don't think naval officers are generally given to it.

The next exploit of these cruisers I shall refer to was one that came under my own eyes, and was exceedingly interesting.

I was anchored with my flag-ship, a fine thirteen knot ironclad, and a couple of other vessels, at a port some few miles to the north of Varna, taking in coals, when the look-out man reported that he saw on the horizon a column of smoke. I knew that this was not a Russian cruiser, because these vessels always burnt smokeless coal. I guessed, however, what it was, namely, that one of the Russian cruisers was burning an unfortunate coasting vessel. On looking more closely from the mast-head of the flag-ship, I saw the masts and two funnels of a steamer very near to the burning ship. The cruiser was somewhat in shore of the place where I was lying. He seems to have made my squadron out about the same time I had seen him, and at once made tracks, as the Americans say, to get out to sea. In doing so he had to near us considerably, so much so that before steam was ready in the flag-ship I could pretty well discern what the enemy was. Some persons may be surprised to hear that the marauding vessel was no less a craft than the magnificent yacht of the Emperor of All the Russias, called the 'Livadia,' which had condescended to the somewhat undignified work of capturing small Turkish coasting craft. Who can fancy the 'Victoria and Albert' being sent to sea, during a war between England and France, to capture and destroy small coasting craft on the French shores! However, there was the fact; it was the 'Livadia,' and no mistake. And now commenced one of the most interesting chases I have ever seen. On our starting the yacht was about four miles ahead of us, steering a course that would take her straight to Sebastopol. She had got through all the necessary dangerous manoeuvres of crossing our bows, from her having been inshore of us, before we moved.

The weather was lovely, not a ripple on the water, dead calm.

We commenced the chase at 4.30 p.m. Unfortunately our decks were loaded with coal; however, we made a clean thirteen knots. At first it seemed as if we were coming up with the chase, so much so that I felt inclined to fire the long bow gun at her. But I always think and I say from blockade-running experience that firing more or less injures a vessel's speed; so I refrained from doing so. As night closed in a beautiful moon rose and made everything as clear as day. The equality of our speed was most remarkable, inasmuch as the distance between us did not vary a hundred yards in an hour. All night we were watching, measuring distances with nautical instruments, &c., hoping at moments that we were nearer, despairing at others that she was gaining from us. We threw overboard fifty or sixty tons of coal, to no avail; we could not get within shot of the 'Livadia,' to capture which I would have given all I possessed. As day broke we saw the crew of the 'Livadia' busily employed throwing overboard coal and water. Sebastopol was in sight, and she was running for dear life to that haven of safety. Lightening her had certainly a good effect, for it was sadly evident to me that on doing so she drew ahead a little, but very little. Now I hoped she would burst her boiler or break down ever so little; but so it was not fated, and the Emperor's yacht escaped by the skin of her teeth into Sebastopol, under the protection of batteries that opened a tremendous fire on my ship on my approaching, forgetful of their existence. I was obliged to clear out of that pretty sharply or we should have been sunk.

An ironclad corvette that accompanied me, though some miles astern at the finish, ran so close in that she had her rudder shot away, and we had the unpleasant task of towing her out under a fire more like a hailstorm of shot and shell than anything I can compare it to. I am told the 'Livadia' would have shown fight. I have no doubt she would; Russians always fight well: but I think the result would not have been doubtful, and the Emperor's crockery and glass, to say nothing of the magnificent gettings-up in the cabins, would have lost much of their lustre during an engagement. So the glory of taking the Emperor's yacht into the Bosphorus was not to be mine. I cannot express my disappointment at losing such a chance. The only consolation I have is that I really believe the brave Russians would have blown her up, rather than allow such a disgrace to fall on their flag.

Since the war a Russian naval officer told me that he had under his command at Sebastopol, on the day of my chasing the 'Livadia' into that port, seven torpedo boats, with which he volunteered to go out and attack us. His request was not allowed. We discussed at some length the probable result. These are my views and arguments. I said to him, 'When I saw your boats coming out I should have steamed away. Now the speed of my frigate is thirteen knots. You would probably have had a speed of nineteen to twenty at most. Thus your rate of approaching me would have been six knots, no great speed with which to approach a vessel armed with Nordenfelt guns, and six other guns also, en barbette, firing grape, shell, &c. I am convinced we should have destroyed all the torpedo boats.' 'Well, then,' said the Russian officer, 'I should have followed and attacked you during the night.' 'There again,' I said, 'I think you would have failed, because before dark you could not have got near enough to me, on account of the opposition you would have met with from my fire, to remark the course I steered after sunset, which course I should have frequently changed during the darkness. A ship cannot be seen in the dark if she shows no light at more than five hundred yards' distance, and a moving ship would have been most difficult to hit; besides which, if I had stopped and put down my defences, what could you have done?' This discussion ended in the Russian officer admitting that he did not think he could have done much.



CHAPTER XIX.

THE TURKISH FLEET DURING THE WAR.

To return to the doings of the Turkish fleet in the Black Sea during the war, Sulina was a point from the beginning always aimed at by the Russians. In fact, according to my humble ideas, Russia went to war to get possession of Bessarabia, the key of the Danube, and Batoum, the key to Asia Minor, and in a great measure to our Indian possessions. I think the sentimental story of massacres in Bulgaria was merely a blind whereby to catch the sympathetic support of Europe, and more especially the English philanthropists. I think this, because when the most awful cruelties were committed by the Bulgarians on the Turks after the war, we heard no outcry about massacres. However, I must not introduce politics into Sketches from a sailor's life; such would be out of place. Constant attacks were made by land and by sea on Sulina, which was held and defended by Turkish ships and their crews, who manned the small batteries they had planted at the mouth of the river. To the Russians, to destroy the Turkish squadron lying off that port was of great importance, as Sulina is entirely surrounded by water and great impassable marshes, which extend far inland, through which marshes the Danube runs, and thus can always be defended by ships.

The Turkish squadron generally consisted of five or six ironclads, and as the Russians had not ships wherewith to attack these ironclads, torpedo attacks (of which so much was and is expected) was their only chance.

My idea of defending these vessels when at anchor was by a cordon of guard-boats, with ropes made fast between them, so as to catch any attacking torpedo boat, either by fouling her screw as she advanced, or by stopping entirely her progress. Moreover, a torpedo boat thus stopped would, by catching the rope, draw the guard-boat on either side of her, or right on top of her. I must admit that while torpedoes at that time were supposed to be in their infancy, the defence prepared against their attack was also very much in its infancy, so these preparations were of the most primitive description.

The squadron, as I said, consisted of five vessels, which had been in the habit of standing out to sea every night, to avoid torpedo attacks. On the occasion I am writing about, they had returned to the anchorage on account of bad weather. A Russian steamer with five torpedo boats in tow started (as we afterwards learnt) from Odessa to hunt for the Turkish squadron, which, it was known to them through their spies, was in the habit of cruising off Serpent's Island, about eight miles from Odessa. The Muscovites were unable to find their enemy, and I don't wonder at it, for they were not in their usual cruising ground; even had they been there, to find them would have been difficult, as the Turkish ships always cruised in open order, burnt smokeless coal, and showed no lights. On being disappointed in finding what she wanted at sea, the Russian vessel steamed towards the anchorage off Sulina. As the weather was bad, her commander decided not to attack, and I fancy had to cast off his torpedo boats.