RUNNING THE BLOCKADE.

Lyttelton Times, Volume XXI, Issue 1188, 26 January 1864, Page 2

RUNNING THE BLOCKADE.

(From 4 St. James's Magazine.') Before long, the passengers arrived. Several Southern gentlemen, a few ladies and children, all making their way back from Europe to their homes in Carolina orVirginia by this dangerous route, and all in peril of harsh imprisonment, at least, in the event of capture. By the uncertain light, I could see that most of them were pale and nervous; but they talked in an undertone among themselves, and did not appear anxious to enter into conversation with strangers. " Get up steam!" By the time the hoarse roar of the escaping vapour grew loud and menacing, there was a fresh bustle on deck, and I heard the captain give orders to " stand by" for slipping from the moorings, and to hoist the signal, as we only waited for the pilot. " There they are, slick and right—three red lights and a green one!" murmured a tall "Virginian at my elbow; and looking up, I saw the coloured lamps glimmer from the masthead. Instantly they were answered by a similar signal from some window ou shore. "We'll soon see the pilot now," said Pritchard, rubbing his hands in' a very cheery manner; " the signal's made and repeated. In ten minutes our man will be with us. Hilloa! —boat ahoy?—what d'ye want?" " Bonnybell ahoy!" was the rejoinder, in a shrill, harsh voice, cautiously lowered for the occasion; "pilot wants to come on board." There was a stir and a start of surprise among those on deck, and as a rope was thrown to the boatmen, Capt. Pritchard bent over the side, exclaiming,—" You're uncommon quick, my hearty. If you've come from shore since the lights were hoisted, you must be own cousin to the Flying Dutchman. Are you sure your our pilot?" "I'm the pilot engaged by Colonel Jeremy Carter, of Spottsylvania, if that'll do," answered a very tall, bony, black-haired man, as he actively ascended the side. " Zack Foster's my name, and I know every inch about Charleston, where I was raised." While the captain, reassured by the mention of Colonel Carter's name, gave hasty orders to cast off the cable, and go ahead, I, in common with the r§st of the passengers, and the unoccupied portion of the crew, looked with much interest at the new comer. The latter was about forty years of age, long and lean of figure, with a hardy, sunbrowned face. There was no mistaking the resolute air and daring of the man; his mouth was as firm as iron, though a little dry humour seemed to lurk about his lips; and I hardly liked the expression of his half-shut eyes, which had a lazy cunning in their dark glance. Still, though dressed in a black suit of shore-going clothes, and a swallow-tailed coat of antiquated cut, there was something about Mr. Zack Foster that bespoke the thoroughbred seaman. He took no share in the proceedings, for his duty did not begin till Ave were clear of Nassau roadstead; but yet he seemed impatient for the start, gnawing viciously at his quid, and drumming on the taffrail with a finger that seemed as hard and brown as bronze. It was'an anxious time when the Bonnybell, under a full head of steam, went darting out of the bay; her look-outs straining their eyes to pierce the mist, and give warning to the helmsman of vessels ahead; while Pritchard walked to and fro, too fidgetty and eager to endure conversation, listening every instant for some sound which might indicate that the Federal cruiser had taken the alarm. But on we went, without check or hindrance; and we all drew our breath more freely as the lights of the town began one by one to vanish, as if the sea had swallowed them, and the dark headlands faded away into obscurity. The American gunboat was neither seen nor felt, a circumstance which I did not the less regret because I perceived, not only by the display of the cannon alluded to, but by the resolute demeanour of several of the crew, who stood grouped about a couple of uncovered armchests, that our pigmy foe would not have found an entirely unresisting prize, One slight circumstance, hardly, as I thought, worth mentioning, did occur before we had run half a mile to seaward. There came a long faint hail, from so great a distance as to be hardly distinguishable even by a sailor's practised eai', but Avhich was announced to be addressed to us. ■" Some boat, with a message perhaps for a passenger. The lubbers deserve rope's-ending for being so late. Can I lie-to safely, do you think ?" said Pritchard to the pilot, irresolutely, and giving the" word " Slacken speed !" What the pilot answered I know not. I only caught the concluding phrase,—" Yankee tricks; so, cap., you'd best look sharp about you." So Pritchard thought. He gave the word to go on at full speed, and we hear no more about the matter. | The run was speedy and pleasant, over a dimpling summer sea, with no boisterous behaviour on Neptune's part to make even the lady passengers uneasy. We saw several vessels, but none of a hostile character; and the voyage was as agreeable and safe hitherto as any yachting excursion in holiday waters. We were all disposed to be pleased; and the pilot, although a saturnine and morose personage, viewed through -this rose-coloured haze -of satisfaction and hope, became a popular man on board. Captain Pritchard pronounced him worth his weight in gold; for if there were no gales or rough seas to thwart our purpose, fogs were rather frequent, and here the the pilot's intimate acquaintance with the rocks, shoals, and islets, many of which were not noted down in the chart, more than once saved the Bonnybell from an ugly thump upon some hidden obstacle. For an American, Zack Foster was singularly silent; yet there was something elephantine about his high forehead and narrow dark eyes which suggested shrewdness rather than vacuity. He did his work, answered when spoken to, but seldom addressed any one. " Land ho!" sung out the look-out man at the mast-head, and Pritchard and the pilot, who were poring together over the map close to the binnacle, looked up, while the passengers edged nearer to hear the news. Pritchard lifted his telescope, while Foster went aloft for a better view. " Edisto Island, as I said, cap.!" hailed the pilot; " and beyond it is the Carolina coast. We're close to home, gentlemen and ladies." There was a cheer from the little group gathered near the helm, but directly afterwards came two shrill cries of "Sail ho!" " Uncle \Sani's barkers. We must put out a few miles yet, cap," said the pilot, as he leisurely descended the rope ladder. There were many good glasses on board, and we all gazed eagerly through them, and with beating hearts we recognised the port holes, the grinning cannon, the " star-spangled flags, and warlike display of the Federal blockading squadron. The steamer was put about, and we stood further out, until shore and ships alike were lost to view. The disappearance of the passengers, who had been granted a mere glimpse of the land which tq them was home, was considerable; but none could doubt the prudence of delayingour entry into Charleston harbour until night should assist us in eluding the hostile war vessels. There was no going to bed on board the Boiiny-bell that night; Ave all kept to the deck, eagerly gazing out over the sparkling and phosphorescent sea, glimmering and glancing with St. Elmo's fires. There was a pale young moon—a mere sickle of silver—in the sky; and objects Avere so faintly discernible that the utmost caution Avas necessary. The second mate took the helm, while the first mate superintended . the almost constant heaving of the lead, and the captain and pilot stood on the forecastle, noting the replies of the sailor, chanted as they were in a shrill monotone, in accordance Avith old custom. "Ten fathoms sheer ! —By the deep nine ! —By the mark, seven !" called out the leadsman, from the chains. " Water allays does shoal here, cap. I know the channel, though, as well as I know my parlour ashore, at Nantucket—at Savannah, I mean," said the pilot, with some confusion. •' By the mark, five!" was the next call. Captain Pritchard here greAv uneasy. lie did not pretend to equal the pilot in local knowledge, but he Avas too good a seaman not to take alarm at the abrupt lessening of the depth of the Avater. He gave orders to reduce the speed, and Ave moved but sloAvly on, the lead going as before. " Are you sure, Mr. Foster, you are not mistaken ! It seems to me the water shoals at the rate of a fathom for every hundred yards traversed. We may have missed the swash, left Moultrie to leeAvard, and got into the network of sandbanks near, —Hilloa 1 what's that ahead of us ? Boats, as I'm a sinner !" At the same moment, the pilot thrust his hand rapidly into the breast of his coat, drew out something', and flung it on the deck, Avhere it instantly began to sputter and hiss, and directly afterwards the lurid glare of a blue light flashed through the darkness, showing funnel and rigging, the pale faces of the passengers, the narroAV channel of fretted Avater, and the sandy islets on either bow. Nor was this all, for by the ghastly light we co"uld distinguish two dark objects on the foamy sea ahead of us—boats, full of men, pulling swiftly but noiselessly towards us, and, no doubt, with muffled oars. " By the mark, two! Shoal water—we're aground !" cried an illboding voice, that of the sailor in the chains; and the Bonuybell came suddenly to a check, throwing most of the landsmen from their feet, while the ominous scrooping of the keel told that the steamer was

aground. A loud clamour instantly arose, many voices shouting at once in tones of inquiry, dismay, or command; but even above this turmoil arose the hurrah of those who manned, the boats, and who now came dashing up, pulling and cheering like madmen.

" Treachery ! treachery ! " cried .several of the passengers and crow, pointing to where the pilot stood beside the blue light that his own perfidious hand had kindled ; while already the men-of-war's men, for such we could not doubt them to be, began to scramble on board. " The Yankee bloodhounds, sure enough ; but you shall not live to share the prize-money ! " exclaimed Pritchard, snatching up a handspike, and aiming a blow at Mr. Zack Foster, that would have been a lethal stroke, had not that astute person swerved aside, receiving the weapon on his left shoulder. Our men set up a feint cheer, and a shot was fired, luckily without effect. But resistance would have been madness, so thickly did the American sailors crowd up our gangway, their pistols and cutlasses ready for the fray; while among them were nine or ten marines, well armed with musket and bayonet, and who drove the Bonny bell's crew below hatches without any serious show of fighting. The Federal lieutenant in command, to 'do him justice, seemed anxious that no needless violence should be used; and while proclaiming the vessel a prize to the boats of the U.S. war-brig Dacotah, he yet restrained the fury of that precious guide, Mr. Zack Foster, who had recovered from the effects of his knock down blow, drawn a bowie-knife, and rushed upon Pritchard, who was struggling in the hands of his captors. " Gently, sir," said the lieutenant; " gently, Quartermaster Fitch. These caged birds are under Uncle Sam's protection, and I cannot allow any ill-usage of my prisoners. Do you hear me, sir ? " " Quartermaster ! " exclaimed poor Captain Pritchard, as his wrists were thrust into the handcuffs. " You don't mean that that double-dyed villian, that Judas of a pilot, is a Yankee petty-officer, after all 1 I wish I'd only guessed the truth a few hours back, and—if I swung for it—l'd have chucked the spy overboard as I would a mangy puppy !"****" That's the town of Hampton, mister, and yon's the camp of our invincible rebel-whipping troops; and there's the fort, where you are like to be located a goodish time, I some think," said a drawling voice, breaking in upon my bitter reflections just as the Bonnybell's anchor bit the ground in Hampton Roads. I turned and shrank instinctively back from the hateful spy, Foster, or Fitch, who stood at my elbow with an exultant twinkle in his rascally eyes. He could not but observe my gesture, for he went on—"No malice, Britisher; you'll be none the worse, after all; and you'll be let out in a week or two, if our Sec. of State happens to care about humoring your rotten old country. Them Southern chaps hev more reason to look ugly than you hev, I can tell you. But wasn't the thing smart, and prettily done ? Answer me that. Our Consul spent a considerable lump of dollars, I calculate, for information about what this Bonnybell was doing at Nassau. Then we found out the signal and passwords, and out come I—Dan Fitch, of the U. S. Navy—and get welcomed aboard as the pilot chosen by that bloody rebel, Colonel Carter. And before we get clear off, the real pilot's canoe gives chase, and they hail and hail till they're hoarse, and your blind bat of a British captain, he takes 110 notice—he ! ha! You must sing small, you must, you old-country folks, when you rub shoulders with Columbia's children. Here comes the boat, with the marshal aboard her."