Chronicles of the Cape Fear River Blockade Running 469

tion with regard to all the details; the instructions under which
I was acting requiring me only to bring in a cargo of provisions

with all dispatch. .
The Chameleon was in nearly all respects like the Chicka-

mauga, only a few feet longer, and drawing a few inches more

THE LAST DAYS OF BLOCKADE RUNNING.

By CapTaAIn JoHN WILKINSON, C. S. N.

In the early part of December, 1864, I was summoned again,

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and for the last time during the war, to Richmond. There now water.

remained to the Confederacy only the single line of rail com-
munication from Wilmington, via Greensboro and Danville, to
Richmond. The progress of demoralization was too evident at

every step of my journey, and nowhere were the poverty and
the straits to which the country was reduced more palpably vis-

ible than in the rickety, windowless, filthy cars, traveling six or
eight miles an hour, over the worn-out rails and decaying road-
bed. We were eighteen hours in making the distance (about
one hundred and twenty miles) from Danville to Richmond.
As we passed in the rear of General Lee’s line and I saw the
scare-crow cattle there being slaughtered for the troops, the
game seemed to be at last growing desperate. We were detained
for perhaps an hour at the station where the cattle were being
slaughtered. Several soldiers who were on the train left us
there; and as soon as they alighted from the cars, they seized
portions of the offal, kindled a fire, charred the scraps upon the

points of their ramrods, and devoured the unclean food with the
avidity of famished tigers.

It was arranged in Richmond that I should take command of
the Tallahassee and proceed with all dispatch to Bermuda for
a cargo of provisions, my late experience with the governor of
the island rendering it quite probable that he would prevent
the Chickamauga from even discharging her cargo as a merchant
vessel. That steamer (the Tallahassee), of so many aliases, had
just returned from a short cruise under Captain Ward, of the
Confederate States Navy. She was now christened again, and
bore, thenceforward, the appropriate name of Chameleon. Her
battery was dismounted, her officers and crew detached, and she
was ostensibly sold to the navy agent at Wilmington. A regis-
ter and bill of sale were prepared in legal form, the crew shipped
according to the laws relating to the merchant service, and regu-
lar invoices and bills of lading made out of her cargo of cotton.
The vessel, indeed, was so thoroughly whitewashed that she
subsequently passed a searching examination in Bermuda; but
my recent experience there had convinced me of the necessity
of adopting every precaution, and I was left to my own discre-

On the afternoon of December 24, the United States fleet

opened fire upon Fort Fisher, the heavy cannonading continu-

ing during the two following days. The booming of the heavy
guns could be distinctly heard in Wilmington.

There was a complete panic there; the non-combatants moved
away and fright and confusion prevailed everywhere. ‘The co-
operating land forces, under General Butler, had almost com-
pletely invested the fort, and the communication between it and
Wilmington was at one time interrupted, so that it was 1mpos-
sible to ascertain the condition of affairs below. In the midst
of the turmoil, we cast off from the wharf about two o'clock in
the afternoon of December 26 and anchored off Smithville after
dark, the tide not serving for crossing the bar that night.

Next morning the Agnes F’ry, an inward-bound blockade
runner, was discovered aground on the Western Bar. Towards
evening two or three of the blockading fleet stationed off that bar
steamed in and opened fire upon her. The bombardment of the
fort was still in progress. A little after dark, just as we were
weighing our anchor, General Whiting, who was then in Fort
Fisher, telegraphed to us that the United States land forces were
embarking, the attack upon the fort having been abandoned. We
were under way in a few minutes, closely followed by the
flansa, Captain Murray, and parting from her just as we
crossed the bar. I had known the captain for many months,

under his assumed name, and it was quite generally understood
that he held a commission in the British Navy. While I was
living in Nova Scotia, some years afterwards, the card of Cap-
tain A., commanding H.B.M.’s ship /——”, was brought to me,
and I was surprised to find in the owner of it my old friend
Murray. Several British naval officers of rank and high charac-
ter were engaged in the same exciting and lucrative occupation
of blockade running; among them the gallant Captain Bur-
goyne, who commanded afterwards the unfortunate ship Cap-
tain, of the British Navy, and who perished together with nearly

the whole crew when she foundered at sea.
We crossed the bar under such favorable circumstances that