Part 8

We anchored a cable’s length from the jetty. In reply to the sentry’s hail, the skipper asked for a boat to put off for us. “Come off in your own boat.” Skiff of Charon! But there was no choice. With all the bathos of that remarkable structure it could not go down in such a short row. And if it did? Well, “there’s not a more terrible place for sharks along this coast,” the captain had told us incidentally _en route_. Our own boat was inclined to impartiality in its relations with the water, and took quite as much inside as it could hold, but we soused into it, and the men pulled like Doggett’s Badgers, and soon we were out of shark depth and alongside the jetty, where were standing to receive us Mr. Brown, our friend of yesterday, Captain Vodges, and Captain Berry, commanding a United States battery inside the fort. The soldiers of the guard were United States regular troops of the artillery, wore blue uniforms with brass buttons, and remarkably ugly slouched felt hats, with an ornament in the shape of two crossed cannon. Captain Vodges informed me that Colonel Moore had sent off a reply to my letter to the fleet, stating that he would gladly permit me to go over the fort, but that he could not allow any one else, under any circumstances whatever, to visit it. My friends were therefore constrained to stay outside, but one of them picked up a friend on the beach and got up an impromptu ride along the island. The way from the jetty to the entrance of the fort is in the universal deep sand of this part of the world; the distance from the landing-place to the gateway is not much more than two hundred yards, and the approach to the portal is quite unprotected. There is a high ramp and glacis on the land side, but the face and part of the curtain in which the gate is situate are open, as it was not considered likely that it would ever be attacked by Americans. The sharp angle of the bastion on this face is so weak that men are now engaged in throwing up an extempore glacis to cover the base of the wall and the casemates from fire. The ditch is very broad, and the scarp and counterscarp are riveted with brickwork. The curvette has been cleared out, and in doing so, as a proof of the agreeable character of the locality, I may observe upwards of sixty rattlesnakes were killed by the workmen. An abattis has been made along the edge of this part of the ditch--a rough inclined fence of stakes and boughs of trees. “Yes, sir; at one time when those terrible fire-eating gentlemen at the other side were full of threats, and coming to take the place every day, there were only seventy men in this fort, and Lieutenant Slemmer threw up this abattis to delay his assailants, if it were only for a few minutes, and to give his men breathing time to use their small arms.” The casemates here are all blinded, and the hospital is situate in the bomb-proofs inside. The gate was closed; at a talismanic knock it was opened, and from the external silence we passed into a scene full of activity and life, through the dark gallery which served at first as a framework to the picture. The parade of the fort was full of men, and as a _coup d’œil_, it was obvious that great efforts had been made to prepare Fort Pickens for a desperate defence. In the parade were several tents of what is called Sibley’s pattern, like our bell tents, but without the lower side-wall, and provided with a ventilating top, which can be elevated or depressed at pleasure. The parade-ground has been judiciously filled with deep holes, like inverted cones, in which shells will be comparatively innocuous; and warned by Sumter, every thing has been removed which could prove in the least degree combustible. The officer on duty led me straight across to the opposite angle of the fort. As the rear of the casemates and bomb-proofs along this side will be exposed to a plunging fire from the opposite side, a very ingenious screen has been constructed, by placing useless gun-platforms and parts of carriages at an angle against the wall, and piling them up with sand and earth for several feet in thickness. A passage is thus left between the base of the wall and that of the screen, through which a man can walk with ease. Turning into this passage, we entered a lofty bomb-proof, which was the bedroom of the commanding officer, and passed through into the casemate which serves as his head-quarters. Colonel Harvey Brown received me with every expression of politeness and courtesy. He is a tall, spare, soldierly-looking man, with a face indicative of great resolution and energy, as well as of sagacity and kindness; and his attachment to the Union was probably one of the reasons of his removal from the command of Fort Hamilton, New York, to the charge of this very important fort. He has been long in the service, and he belonged to the first class of graduates who passed at West Point after its establishment in 1818. After a short and very interesting conversation, he proceeded to show me the works, and we mounted upon the parapet, accompanied by Captain Berry, and went over all the defences. Fort Pickens has a regular bastioned trace, in outline an oblique and rather narrow parallelogram, with the obtuse angles facing the sea at one side and the land at the other. The acute angle at which the bastion toward the enemy’s batteries is situate, is the weakest part of the work; but it was built for sea defence, as I have already observed, and the trace was prolonged to obtain the greatest amount of fire on the sea approaches. The crest of the parapet is covered with very solid and well-made merlons of heavy sand-bags, but one face and the gorge of the bastion are exposed to an enfilading fire from Fort M’Rae, which the colonel said he intended to guard against if he got time. All the guns seemed in good order, the carriages being well constructed, but they are mostly of what are considered small calibres now-a-days, being 32-pounders, with some 42-pounders and 24-pounders. There are, however, four heavy columbiads, which command the enemy’s works on several points very completely. It struck me that the bastion guns were rather crowded. But, even in its present state, the defensive preparations are most creditable to the officers, who have had only three weeks to do the immense amount of work before us. The brick copings have been removed from the parapets, and strong sand-bag traverses have been constructed to cover the gunners, in addition to the “rat-holes” at the bastions. More heavy guns are expected, which, with the aid of a few more mortars, will enable the garrison to hold their own against every thing but a regular siege on the land side, and so long as the fleet covers the narrow neck of the island with its guns, it is not possible for the Confederates to effect a lodgment. If Fort M’Rae was strong and heavily armed, it could inflict great damage on Pickens; but it is neither one nor the other, and the United States officers are confident that they will speedily render it quite untenable. The _bouches à feu_ of the fort may be put down at forty, including the available pieces in the casemates, which sweep the ditch and the faces of the curtains. The walls are of the hardest brick, of nine feet thickness in many places, and the crest of the parapets on which the merlons and traverses rest are of turf. From the walls there is a splendid view of the whole position, and I found my companions were perfectly well acquainted with the strength and _locus_ of the greater part of the enemy’s works. Of course I held my peace, but I was amused at their accuracy. “There are the quarters of our friend, General Bragg.” “There is one of their best batteries just beside the lighthouse.” The tall chimney of the Warrington navy-yard was smoking away lustily. The colonel called my attention to it. “Do you see that, sir? They are casting shot, there. The sole reason for their ‘forbearance,’ is that navy-yard. They know full well that if they open a gun upon us, we will lay that yard and all the work in ruins.”

Captain Vodges subsequently expressed some uneasiness on a point as to which I could have relieved his mind very effectually. He had seen something which led him to apprehend that the Confederates had a strong intrenched camp in rear of their works. Thereupon I was enabled to perceive that in Captain Vodges’ mind, there was a strong intention to land and carry the enemy’s position. Why, otherwise, did you care about an intrenched camp, most excellent engineer? But now I may tell you that there is no intrenched camp at all, and that your vigilant eye, sir, merely detected certain very absurd little furrows which the Confederates have in some places thrown up in the soft sand in front of their camps, which would cover a man up to the knee or stomach, and are quite useless as a breastwork. If they thought a landing probable, it is unpardonable in them to neglect such a protection. These furrows are quite straight, and even if they are deepened the assailants have merely to march round them, as they extend for only some forty or fifty yards, and have no flanks. The officers of the garrison are aware the enemy have mortar batteries, but they think the inside of the fort will not be easily hit, and they said nothing to show that they were acquainted with the position of the mortars.

From the parapet we descended by a staircase into the casement. The Confederates are greatly deceived in their expectation that the United States soldiers will be much exposed to sun or heat in Pickens. More airy, well ventilated quarters cannot be imagined, and there is quite light enough to enable the men to read in most of them. The plague of flies will infest both armies, and is the curse of every camp in the summer. As to mosquitos, the Confederates will probably suffer, if not more, at least as much as the States troops. The effect of other tormentors, such as yellow fever and dysentery, will be in all probability impartially felt on both sides; but, unless the position of the fort is peculiarly unhealthy, the men who are under no control in respect to their libations, will probably suffer more than those who are restrained by discipline and restricted to a regular allowance. Water can always be had by digging, and is fit for use if drunk immediately. Vegetables and fresh provisions, are not, of course, so easily had as on shore, but there is a scarcity of them in both camps, and the supplies from the store-ships are very good and certain. The bread baked by the garrison is excellent, as I had an opportunity of ascertaining, for I carried off two loaves from the bakehouse on board the schooner. Our walk through the casemates was very interesting. They were crowded with men, most of whom were reading. They were quiet, orderly-looking soldiers--a mixture of old and young--scarcely equal in stature to their opponents, but more to be depended upon I should think in a long struggle. Every thing seemed well arranged. Those men who were in their beds had mosquito curtains drawn, and were reading or sleeping at their ease. In the casemate used as an hospital there were only some twelve men sick out of the whole garrison, and I was much struck by the absence of any foul smell and by the cleanliness and neatness of all the arrangements. The colonel spoke to each of the men kindly, and they appeared glad to see him. The dispensary was as neat as care and elbow-grease could make it, and next door to it, in strange juxtaposition, was the laboratory for the manufactory of fuses and deadly implements, in equally good order. Every thing is ready for immediate service. I am inclined to think it will be some time before it is wanted. Assuredly, if the enemy attack Fort Pickens they will meet with a resistance which will probably end in the entire destruction of the navy-yard, and of the greater part of their works. A week’s delay will enable Colonel Brown to make good some grave defects; but delay is of more advantage to his enemy than it is to him, and if Fort Pickens were made at once the _point d’appui_ for a vigorous offensive movement by the fleet and by a land force, I have very little doubt in my mind that Pensacola must fall, and that General Bragg would be obliged to retire. In a few weeks the attitude of affairs may be very different. The railroad is open to General Bragg, and he can place himself in a very much stronger attitude than he now occupies.

At last the time came for me to leave. The colonel and Captain Berry came down to the beach with me. Outside we found Captain Vodges kindly keeping my friends in conversation and in liquid supplies in the shade of the bakehouse shed, and, after a little more pleasant conversation, we were afloat once more. Probably no living man was ever permitted to visit the camps of two enemies within sight of each other before this, under similar circumstances, for I was neither spy nor herald, and I owe my best thanks to those who trusted me on both sides so freely and so honorably. A gentleman who preceded me did not fare quite so well. He landed on the island and went up to the fort, where he represented himself to be the correspondent of an American journal. But his account of himself was not deemed satisfactory. He was sent off to the fleet. Presently there came over a flag of truce from General Bragg, with a warrant signed by a justice of the peace, for the correspondent, on a charge of felony; but the writ did not run in Fort Pickens. The officers regarded the message as a clever ruse to get back a spy, and the correspondent is still in durance vile or in safety, as the case may be, on board the squadron.

All sails filled, the Diana stood up toward the navy-yard once more in the glare of the setting sun. The sentinels along the battery and beach glared at us with surprise as the schooner, with her flag of truce still flying, ran past them. The pier was swept with the glass for the Mobile gentlemen; they were not visible. “Halloa! Mr. Captain, what’s that you’re at?” His mate was waving the Confederate flag from the deck--“It’s only the signal, sir, to the gentlemen on shore.” “Wave some other flag, then, while there’s a flag of truce flying, and while we are in these waters.” After backing and filling for some time the party were descried in the distance. Again, the watery skiff was sent off, and in a few minutes they were permitted, thanks to their passes, to come off. Some confidential person had informed them the attack was certainly coming off in a very short time. They were anxious to stay. They had seen friends at Pensacola, and were full of praises of “the quaint old Spanish settlement,” but mine is, unfortunately, not an excursion of pleasure, and it was imperative that I should not waste time. Every thing had been seen that was necessary for my purpose. It was beyond my power to state the reasons which led me to think no fight would take place, for doing so would have been to betray confidence. And so we parted company--they to feast their eyes on a bombardment--and if they only are near enough to see it they will heartily regret their curiosity, or I am mistaken--and we to return to Mobile.

It was dark before the Diana was well down off Fort Pickens again, and, as she passed out to sea between it and Fort M’Rae, it was certainly to have been expected that one side or other would bring her to. Certainly our friend Mr. Brown in his clipper Oriental would overhaul us outside, and there lay a friendly bottle in a nest of ice waiting for the gallant sailor who was to take farewell of us according to promise. Out we glided into night and into the cool sea breeze, which blew fresh and strong from the north. In the distance the black form of the Powhatan could be just distinguished; the rest of the squadron could not be made out by either eye or glass, nor was the schooner in sight. A lantern was hoisted by my orders, and was kept aft for some time after the schooner was clear of the forts. Still no schooner. The wind was not very favorable for running toward the Powhatan, and it was too late to approach her with perfect confidence from the enemy’s side. Besides, it was late; time pressed. The Oriental was surely lying off somewhere to the westward, and the word was given to make sail, and soon the Diana was bowling along shore, where the sea melted away in a fiery line of foam so close to us that a man could, in nautical phrase, “shy a biscuit” on the sand. The wind was abeam, and the Diana seemed to breathe it through her sails, and flew along at an astonishing rate through the phosphorescent waters with a prow of flame and a bubbling wake of dancing meteor-like streams flowing from her helm, as though it were a furnace whence boiled a stream of liquid metal. “No sign of the Oriental on our lee-bow?” “Nothin’ at all in sight, sir.” The sharks and huge rays flew off from the shore as we passed and darted out seaward, marking their runs in brilliant trails of light. On sped the Diana, but no Oriental came in sight.

I was tired. The sun had been very hot; the ride through the batteries, the visits to quarters, the excursion to Pickens, had found out my weak places, and my head was aching and legs fatigued, and so I thought I would turn in for a short time, and I dived into the shades below, where my comrades were already sleeping, and kicking off my boots, lapsed into a state which rendered me indifferent to the attentions no doubt lavished upon me by the numerous little familiars who recreate in the well-peopled timbers. It never entered into my head, even in my dreams, that the captain would break the blockade if he could--particularly as his papers had not been indorsed, and the penalties would be sharp and sure if he were caught. But the confidence of coasting captains in the extraordinary capabilities of their craft is a madness--a hallucination so strong that no danger or risk will prevent their acting upon it whenever they can. I was assured once by the “captain” of a _Billyboy_, that he could run to windward of any frigate in Her Majesty’s service, and there is not a skipper from Hartlepool to Whitstable who does not believe his own _Mary Ann_ or _Three Grandmothers_ is, on certain “pints,” able to bump her fat bows and scuttle-shaped stern faster through the seas than any clipper which ever flew a pendant. I had been some two hours and a half asleep, when I was awakened by a whispering in the little cabin. Charley, the negro cook, ague-stricken with terror, was leaning over the bed, and in broken French was chattering through his teeth: “_Monsieur, Monsieur, nous sommes perdus! Le batement de guerre nous poursuit. Il n’a pas encore tiré. Il va tirer bientot! Oh, mon Dieu! mon Dieu!_” Through the hatchway I could see the skipper was at the helm, glancing anxiously from the compass to the quivering reef-points of his mainsail. “What’s all this we hear, captain?” “Well, sir, there’s been somethin’ a runnin’ after us these two hours” (very slowly). “But I don’t think he’ll keech us up no how this time.” “But, good heavens! you know it may be the Oriental, with Mr. Brown on board.” “Ah, wall--may bee. But he kept quite close up on me in the dark--it gave me quite a stark when I seen him. May be, says I, he’s a privateerin’ chap, and so I draws in on shore close as I cud,--gets mee centre-board in, and, says I, I’ll see what yer med of, mee boy. He an’t a gaining much on us.” I looked, and sure enough, about half or three-quarters of a mile astern, and somewhat to leeward of us, a vessel, with sails and hull all blended into a black lump, was standing on in pursuit. I strained my eyes and furbished up the glasses, but could make out nothing definite. The skipper held grimly on. The shore was so close we could have almost leaped into the surf, for the Diana, when her centre-board is up, does not draw much over four feet. “Captain, I think you had better shake your wind, and see who he is. It may be Mr. Brown.” “Meester Brown or no I can’t help carrine on now. I’d be on the bank outside in a minit if I didn’t hold my course.” The captain had his own way; he argued that if it was the Oriental she would have fired a blank gun long ago to bring us to; and as to not calling us when the sail was discovered he took up the general line of the cruelty of disturbing people when they’re asleep. Ah! captain, you knew well it was Mr. Brown, as you let out when we were off Fort Morgan. By keeping so close in shore in shoal water the Diana was enabled to creep along to windward of the stranger, who evidently was deeper than ourselves. See there! Her sails shiver! so one of the crew says; she’s struck! But she’s off again, and is after us. We are just within range, and one’s eyes become quite blinky, watching for the flash from the bow, but, whether privateer or United States schooner she was too magnanimous to fire. A stern chase is a long chase. It must now be somewhere about two in the morning. Nearer and nearer to shore creeps the Diana. “I’ll lead him into a pretty mess, whoever he is, if he tries to follow me through the Swash,” grins the skipper. The Swash is a very shallow, narrow, and dangerous passage into Mobile Bay, between the sand-banks on the east of the main channel and the shore. The Diana is now only some nine or ten miles from Fort Morgan, guarding the entrance to Mobile. Soon an uneasy dancing motion welcomes her approach to the Swash. “Take a cast of the lead, John!” “Nine feet.” “Good! Again!” “Seven feet.” “Good--Charley, bring the lantern.” (Oh, Charley, why did that lantern go out just as it was wanted, and not only expose us to the most remarkable amount of “cussin’,” imprecation, and strange oaths our ears ever heard, but expose our lives and your head to more imminent danger?) But so it was, just at the critical juncture when a turn of the helm port or starboard made the difference, perhaps, between life and death, light after light went out, and the captain went dancing mad after intervals of deadly calmness, as the mate sang out, “Five feet and a half! seven feet--six feet--eight feet--five feet--four feet and a half--(Oh, Lord!)--six feet,” and so on, through a measurement of death by inches, not at all agreeable. And where was Mr. Brown all this time? Really, we were so much interested in the state of the lead-line, and in the very peculiar behavior of the lanterns which would not burn, that we scarcely cared much when we heard from the odd hand and Charley that she had put about, after running aground once or twice, they thought, as soon as we entered the Swash, and had vanished rapidly in the darkness. It was little short of a miracle that we got past the elbow, for just at the critical moment, in a channel not more than a hundred yards broad, with only six feet of water, the binnacle light, which had burned steadily for a minute, sank with a sputter into black night. When the passage was accomplished, the captain relieved his mind by chasing Charley into a corner, and with a shark, which he held by the tail, as the first weapon that came to hand, inflicting on him condign punishment, and then returning to the helm. Charley, however, knew his master, for he slyly seized the shark and flung his defunct corpse overboard before another fit of passion came on, and by the morning the skipper was good friends with him, after he had relieved himself, by a series of castigations of the negligent lamplighter with every variety of Rhadamanthine implement.