392 NortH Carorina Troops, 1861-’65.

course for the Cape Fear was resumed. Those who needed
repose retired for the indulgence. My relaxation from of-
ficial cares was of brief duration, as a gruff voice called out:
‘Captain, a burning vessel reported aloft, sir!’ Repairing
on deck, by the aid of a spy glass, I could distinctly see some
four miles ahead a vessel enveloped in smoke. Though not
ourselves the subjects of charity, nevertheless we were human
and as seamen, cherished the liveliest sympathy for the un-
fortunate who came to grief on God’s watery highway. Re-
gardless of personal interest, your true Jack Tar scorns the
role of Pharisee and prides himself upon the Samaritan pro-
clivities that fail not to succor the sufferer by the wayside.
Increasing our speed, we ran quite near to the Lurning vessel.
She proved to be a Spanish barque, with ensign at half-mast.
Out of her fore hatch arose a dense smoke. Aloft were clus-
tered a panic-stricken group of passengers and crew. Among
them several ladies were observed. An ineffectual effort had
been made to hoist out the long boat, which was still sus-
pended by the yard and stay tackles. Sending an officer
aloft to keep a sharp lookout, that we might not be surprised
by the enemy while succoring the unfortunate, the chief mate
was dispatched in the cutter to render such assistance as his
professional intelligence might suggest. He found the few
passengers, among whom were four ladies, much calmer than
the officers and crew; the latter, instead of endeavoring to
extinguish the fire, which had broken out in the forecastle
compartment, were confusedly hauling upon the stay tackle
in a vain effort to launch the long boat. Our mate, with his
boat’s crew, passed the jabbering, panic-stricken Spaniards,
and proceeded at once to the forecastle, which he instantly de-
luged with water, and to the astonishment of all hands, speed-
ily subdued the trifling conflagration, which proved to have
resulted from the burning of a quantity of lamp rags that
had probably been set on fire by one of the crew, who had
carelessly emptied his pipe when about to repair on deck.
The quantity of old duds that lay scattered about Jack’s
luxuriously furnished apartment supplied abundant mate-
rial for raising a dense smoke, but the rough construction of
the vessel in this locality fortunately offered nothing inflam-

BiockaDE RUNNING. 393

mable and the great sensation, under the influence of a cool
head, soon subsided into a farce. The mate, who was much
of a wag, enjoyed the general perturbation of the passengers,
particularly on ascertaining that three of the ladies hailed
from Marblehead, and were returning from a visit made to
an uncle who owned a well stocked sugar plantation near
Sagua LaGrande, in Cuba. A Spanish vessel bound to Hali-
fax had been selected to convey them to a British port conven-
ient for transportation to New York or Boston without risk
of being captured by Confederate ‘buccaneers,’ who, ac-
cording to Cuban rumors, ‘swarmed over the ocean and were
decidedly anthropophagous in their proclivities.’

“A hail from the steamer caused the mate to make his
adieu, but not before announcing himself as one of the awful
Southern slave-holders they had in conversation anathema-
tized. They could not believe that so kind and polite a gen-
tleman could possibly be a wicked ‘rebel.’ ‘But I am, ladies,
and also a slave-holder, as is your uncle; farewell!’ Instead
of manifesting anger at the retort, they laughed heartily and
waved their handkerchiefs in kind adieu, utterly unsuspi-
cious of having received kindness and courtesy from a block-
ade-runner. We made the best of speed on our way to Wil-
mington. The following day, our last at sea, proved undis-
turbed and pleasant. At sunset the bar bore west-northwest
70 miles distant. It would be high water at 11:30, the
proper time for crossing. Sixty miles I determined to dash
off at full speed, and then run slowly for disentangling our-
selves from the fleet.

“None but the experienced can appreciate the difficulties
that perplexed the navigators in running for Southern har-
bors during the war. The usual facilities rendered by light
houses and beacons had ceased to exist, having been dispensed
with by the Confederate government as dangerous abettors of
contemplated mischief by the blockaders. Success in making
the destined harbors depended upon exact navigation, a
knowledge of the coast, its surroundings and currents, a fear-
less approach, and banishment of the subtle society of John
Barleycorn. Non-experts too often came to grief, as the
many hulks on the Carolina coast attest. Under a pressure