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424 Chronicles of the Cape Fear River

thirty-five blockaders anchored there the afternoon before,
counted from Fort Caswell.) But, I said that we had four
hundred tons of meat for starving soldiers and I intended to
make a run for it, and if any of them were unwilling to take
the risk, they were at liberty to take the small boats and try to
reach the beach. To their credit, be it said, not one man availed
himself of the privilege. When I said to Mr. Thompson, our
fearless pilot, “Tom, I am going to make the attempt, what do
you think of it? his answer was, ‘I am ready, sir, whenever
you are’; and not another word was said except the necessary
orders for the management of the ship.

“Slowly approaching the vessel I supposed to be the flagship,
which we used as a point of departure to find the inlet, there be-
ing no lights or other marks to find the entrance, I was notified
by the engineer that he could not hold his steam, and that we
must either go faster or he would be obliged to open his safety
valve, something never allowed when the enemy was within
hearing. I told him to hold on a few moments and he would
have a chance to work his steam off. We could distinctly see
the ships in the beautiful moonlight, and they were so many
that we had to steer directly for and through them. As we
neared the big flagship she fired a blank cartridge and then a
solid shot across our bows; and when near enough to hail us,
her officer ordered us in very emphatic language to stop that
ship or he’d blow us out of the water.

“ “Hold on,’ I said, ‘until I speak to the engineer,’ which I
did through the speaking tube; but instead of stopping the
engines, he threw her wide open and she almost flew from under
our feet. Our neighbors soon found that we were not doing
very much stopping and attempted to do the stopping them-
selves; but, fortunately for us, they failed to do so.

“My chief officer, a Virginian named Charles Nelson (and

well named), was ordered by me to ascertain the depth of the

water, as our ship was approaching shoal water very rapidly.
In his deliberate manner he went to the leadsman, found out,
and reported so slowly that I reproached him for it. Said I,
‘Can not even a shell make you move faster? (Two of them
had exploded between us in the meantime.) His answer was,
‘What is the use, sir? I might go just fast enough to get in
the way of one of them.’ This man was afterwards in com-
mand of the Armstrong, bound from Wilmington to Bermuda,
about the middle of November, 1864, when, after successfully

Blockade Running 425

eluding the vigilance of the blockaders around the inlet, she
was sighted at 7 o’clock in the morning and then began—in my
opinion—the most memorable chase in the war. She was first
seen by the R. R. Cuyler, which was soon joined by two other
ships; and the Armstrong was soon in the position of the little
hare and three large hounds in pursuit. The Cuyler was a
large screw steamer built for the passenger trade between Sa-
vannah and New York. She was named after a former president
of the Central Railroad, and before the war was considered the
fastest steamer out of New York. At 10 a. m., the first shot
was fired from the Cuyler, and for seven long hours Nelson
walked the bridge, cool and collected, not more excited, in fact,
than if the Armstrong were moored to a dock in a safe harbor.
The Cuyler alone fired 195 shot and shell. The top of the
paddle-box was shot away; Nelson, covered up with the wreck,
shook himself clear. An exploding shell set fire to the cabin;
the hose was let down, the pumps turned on, and the fire put
out with less excitement than would be seen at a fire in any
city in time of peace. The anchors and chains were thrown
overboard, and the masts were cut away. More than 400 bales
of cotton were dumped into the sea, and everything possible was
done to lighten the ship and increase her speed; but of no avail,
the sea was too rough for the little fugitive to compete with the
large ships that were chasing her.

“At 5 p. m. the captain of the Cuyler hailed Nelson and
ordered him to stop the ship or he would blow them out of the
water, which seemed to be a favorite way the blockaders had of
expressing themselves. Just about that time the Armstrong's
engine-frame broke in two and she was a prize.

“The first boat that boarded her had in it a lieutenant and a
surgeon; the latter, before leaving his boat to go on board the
Armstrong, asked: ‘How many killed and wounded?’ and,
strange to say, not a man was scratched. It seemed miraculous
when we consider that all hands, about forty men, were on deck
engaged in throwing the cargo overboard. One of her crew
afterwards told me that he could have filled a peck measure with
the grapeshot that were gathered up about the decks, and that
the pieces of shell were shoveled overboard. An officer of the
Cuyler said to one of the prisoners, ‘We have captured twenty-
two blockade runners, and I think I know whereof I speak when
I say your captain is the bravest man that runs the blockade.’
The Armstrong made a trip to Savannah from New York after

the war and was called the Savannah.