We tarried briefly, dipping in a parting salute to each other our respective ensigns, probably the first and the last time that the conquered banner was used to exchange courtesies with the same flag at sea. The corvette proceeded under her new commander, Capt. Charles M. Morris, cruising near and far until she reached Bahia, Brazil, in which neutral port she was attacked while disarmed, and captured at night by theWachusett, and later, it is said, was conveniently cast away near the last resting place of her famous commander, Captain Maffitt.
Our third and last day at sea began auspiciously, but we were drawing toward the coast much farthernorth than our usual landfall. At about half past three in the afternoon we were startled by the lookout in the crow's nest, with a lusty "Sail ho!" "Whereaway?" called the officer of the watch. "On the port quarter, sir, heading toward us." We were in a bad position, to the northward of Cape Lookout, but the stranger had not yet perceived us. In our eagerness for more steam, however, the telltale smoke was vomited from our funnels, and in a short time it was evident that we were being overhauled by a faster vessel under crowded canvas and full steam. The rising wind favored him, because we had but two sails, fore and aft, which served to steady us in a seaway, but this added little to our speed. As the stranger drew rapidly nearer, pushing us toward a lee shore, she opened fire with her rifled cannon, and for the first time in my life I heard the scream of a hostile shell as it passed between our funnels and plunged into the sea a half mile beyond. The sensation was most unpleasant; had we been able to return the fire, the excitement of battle must have been exhilarating, but to be hunted like a rabbit and pelted with Parrott shells and 11-inch projectiles was enough to reduce my backbone to such laxation that my trembling knees refused to bear it. The cruiser's aim was deadly,for the 11-inch shells came tumbling end over end with such fearful accuracy that many of them passed only a few feet from my head. Others sent the salt spray flying into our faces; and yet there were, up to six o'clock, no casualties of any importance. The admirable conduct of our naval passengers soon inspired me with courage—such is the influence of veterans beside raw troops—and, strangely enough, as the firing of single batteries was changed to broadsides, my despairful feelings gave way to hope and confidence. Our pursuer was now fairly abeam and sailing the same course. Why she did not destroy us utterly at such short range must have appeared to them incomprehensible, because we easily distinguished without glasses the movements of their gunners and the working of their crew at quarters; and our pursuer must have been surprised at the audacity of our passengers, who tranquilly measured with their watches the intervals between the firing of his projectiles and their passage overhead. They also used their sextants continuously during the chase, and it was doubtless owing to their superior knowledge and fortitude that our commander held on his course in the face of imminent destruction, for, be it remembered, we were loaded to the hatch combings with gunpowder for Lee's army. As thesun sank lower on the horizon, so sank our hopes of escape, for every moment seemed to be drawing us nearer to the end. Even our passengers became disheartened and said at last that it was a useless risk to all the lives on board. They accordingly proceeded to their cabins and destroyed their official papers, and threw overboard some valuable side arms and rifles, and I, by the captain's orders, took the Confederate mail bag and government dispatches to the furnace and saw them go up in smoke. Orders were now given to lower the boats to the rail, for what purpose I do not know, when a strange thing happened. There was a loud explosion in the forward fireroom, not made by the bursting of a shell but accompanied by a cloud of steam. Immediately the stokers and firemen swarmed up the iron ladders to the deck, terror-stricken and bewildered. They had been kept at their work for hours at the point of a pistol in the hands of desperate and determined men, but now, panic-stricken, they rushed aft, not knowing what they would do. Our chief engineer quietly reported the collapse of one of our boilers, cause unknown, steam reduced nearly one-half in consequence, but our slackened speed proved to be the means of our salvation. The sun had gone behind a cloud bank, a mist hung over the land toleeward, our ship, painted the dull grey color of the sand dunes along the shore line, was obscured from the view of the enemy, which was quite visible to us, forging ahead and firing wildly. Our engines were stopped and sails lowered, every eye was upon the cruiser. Would she discover our desperate expedient? Had she done so, I believe our crew would have been ordered to the boats and theLilianabandoned, with a lighted fuse for her destruction. But the cruiser drew farther away, firing his broadsides at an invisible foe. Cautiously and slowly we limped to windward, crossing the wake of our discomfited antagonist, and laying our course straight and true for Wilmington. It was now eight o'clock in the evening, a hundred miles between us and our dangerous destination, and daylight comes early in the summer months. By the closest calculation we might, without accidents, reach the Cape Fear by sunrise, and then in our disabled condition how could we hope to run the gauntlet of the blockading fleet? It was resolved to do it or die. Fortune had favored us in an extremity, perhaps she would still be kind. We had an anxious night; sleep, even after the excitement and exhaustion of the previous day, was impossible. We saw the first faint streaks of day off Masonboro Sound, where our watchfulGregory picked up the signal lights ashore and passed the word along the beach for our protection by the fort. It was a cloudy morning; on and on we drove the little ship; she seemed to feel the crisis while she labored like a sentient being to meet her fate as speedily as possible. At last, in the friendly haze of dawn, we were among them; blockaders to the right of us, blockaders to the left of us, blockaders ahead of us loomed up like monsters of the deep. Craig coolly but anxiously peered ahead. Long Tom, well forward on the turtleback, whispered the words which a line of picked men reported to the bridge. Again and again we stopped for the passage of a picket barge or gunboat in the darkness ahead, who saw us not, and for the bearings, which in our devious course we had lost in confusion. Once more we slowly proceeded, when suddenly, out of the darkness and close aboard, flashed the fiery train of a rocket, and a deep, commanding voice, just over the side, shouted "Heave to, or I'll sink you." Quickly our bridge responded "Aye, aye, sir, we stop the engines." "Back your engines, sir, and stand by for my boats," called the lusty man-of-war. But our paddles were not reversed. Lockhart said he never heeded such an order with the bar at hand; on the contrary our engines were evidentlyrunning away with the ship, and, while the confident blockader, diverted from his guns, was engaged in lowering his boats, theLilianwas gliding away toward the bar. A trail of rockets and Drummond lights and bombshells from the rest of the fleet followed in our wake, but the friendly flash of signals from the fort encouraged us, while Gregory, with his masked lights, revealed to them our steady progress until we anchored under the Confederate guns. It was now broad daylight and the blockading fleet had sullenly withdrawn to a safe distance. We proceeded toward Fort Anderson and came to anchor at quarantine. The clouds had passed away, revealing in the brightness of the morning light the stately white columns of Orton House in the distance. Accompanied by our faithful Scipio and escorted beyond the fort by its courteous Colonel Hedrick, we proceeded in silence through St. Philip's churchyard and the dead colonial town of Brunswick, past Russellboro, where Governor Tryon met the first armed colonists (the cradle of American independence), through the long avenue of oaks, where, looking ahead, we beheld a sight which cheered our hearts; my friend and his daughter surrounded by the yelping hounds returning from a chase, for reynard's brush was at her saddlebow. With mutualexclamations of astonishment and delight we learned that the young captain had written by a flag of truce of his convalescence in a Northern hospital. I will not say the touching words that Scipio heard, as, with hands clasped by master and mistress, and with bowed head, he received their tearful benedictions. My friend has long since gone to his eternal rest and Scipio's white soul soon followed him. They are buried at Orton in a grove where the mocking bird builds its nest and sings; where, above the murmur of the tree tops, which bend to the soft south wind, is heard the distant booming of the sea, and in their death they were not divided.
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