I.

It was in the autumn of 1861 that I made up my mind to go to the

Southern States of America, and enter the Confederate Army. Looking

back more than twenty years, I find it difficult, as the man of

forty-two, to recall the exact feelings of the boy of twenty. I

can say, however, that I had no expectation whatever of any gain,

or advantage to myself. I had a sincere sympathy with the Southern

people in their struggle for independence, and felt that it would

be a pleasant thing to help them to secure their freedom. It was

not expected, at that time, that the war would last many months,

and my idea simply was to go to the South, do my duty there as well

as I might, and return home to England. I expected no reward and

wanted none, and had no intention whatever of remaining permanently

in the Southern States.

There was much difficulty, of course, in obtaining accurate

information as to the best way of reaching the seat of war in the

South. I found that I could probably go by way of Nassau, N. P.,

but the expense would have been greater than I cared to incur, and

the other mode of entering the Confederacy--by going to a Northern

port and slipping through the lines--was exceedingly troublesome,

and was, besides, uncertain in its result. However, I determined

to go in some fashion, and just about this time the Confederate

States steamer _Nashville_ arrived at Southampton. This vessel had

been one of the regular steamers on the line between Charleston

and New York, and was seized, I believe, by the Confederate

authorities after hostilities began. It had been determined to send

the Hon. James M. Mason and the Hon. John Slidell to represent

the Confederate States in England and France respectively, and

the _Nashville_ was fitted out for the purpose of taking them to

England. They changed their plan, unfortunately for them, and went

in a small vessel to Havana, where they took the mail steamer

_Trent_ for St. Thomas. The trip of the _Nashville_ was not,

however, abandoned, and, under command of Captain Robert B. Pegram,

she ran the blockade at Charleston and reached Southampton in

safety, capturing and destroying during the voyage a fine American

ship named the _Harvey Birch_.

The arrival of the _Nashville_ at Southampton caused considerable

stir. By those who were friendly to the North she was spoken of

as a pirate, and her officers and crew were dubbed buccaneers.

While some of the newspapers were disposed to order out Captain

Pegram and his crew for instant execution, there were others which

were quite friendly in tone. I remember that it became necessary

for Captain Pegram to write a letter to “_The Times_,” in which

he explained that, far from being “a pirate,” he was a regularly

commissioned officer of the Confederate States Navy, and that the

_Nashville_ was a vessel of war of the Confederate States, entitled

to the consideration that would be shewn to the war vessel of any

other Government. This view was taken by the English authorities,

although, under the proclamation of neutrality which the Queen

had issued, the _Nashville_ was not allowed to obtain any sort

of equipment which could, by any stretch of the imagination,

be conceived to be capable of use in war. The authorities at

Southampton were so strict in their construction of the neutrality

proclamation that they objected to our strengthening the forward

deck, lest it might increase the efficiency of the vessel for

fighting purposes. No repairs were allowed to be made except such

as would place the _Nashville_ in the precise condition in which

she was when she left Charleston. The passage had been rough, or no

repairs of the kind allowed would have been necessary. _Punch_, of

course, made fun of the whole business, and had some rhyming verses

on the subject, in which the name of Captain Pegram, the commander

of the _Nashville_, was made to rhyme with “megrim.”

It occurred to me that if I could in any way secure a passage to

the South on the _Nashville_, it would be much better than trying

to get there by way of Nassau or the Potomac. A man named Smith, to

whom I was introduced in London by a friend, and who told me that

a near kinsman of his was at that time, or had been, Governor of

Arkansas, gave me a letter of introduction to Mr. North, who was

one of the Confederate agents in London. I saw Mr. North and told

him what I wanted, but I do not think that I made a very favorable

impression. It seemed to him so extravagant a project that he

evidently doubted my sincerity and honesty of purpose. The most

that I could accomplish was to obtain from him a note introducing

me to Captain Pegram. This was something gained, and a few days

afterwards I went to Southampton.

As I neared my destination, I was surprised to find how large a

share of public attention was given to the Confederate vessel.

The appearance of the _Nashville_, her size, her speed, and the

probable plans of her commander were diligently canvassed by those

traveling with me, and I was gratified to find that every one had a

good opinion of the conduct and character of the officers and crew

of the vessel. Upon my arrival I went at once to the docks, and far

in the distance saw a flag which was entirely new and strange. As

I drew nearer I found that it was flying from the peak of a large

paddle-wheel steamer, painted black, and with more upper-works than

I had been accustomed to see on sea-going vessels. The flag that I

had seen was the Stars and Bars of the Confederacy, and the vessel

was the _Nashville_. I went aboard and to my great annoyance was

told that Captain Pegram was in London. The officer on duty was

very courteous and disposed to be communicative, and I had a long

talk with him. This officer was Lieutenant John J. Ingraham, of

Charleston, S. C. I learned that he was a graduate of the Naval

Academy at Annapolis, and it rather daunted me to be told that one

could not expect to attain the rank of officer in the Navy unless

one had had the thorough training of a naval school, or practical

education at sea.

Some days later I went down to Southampton again, and this time saw

Captain Pegram. The sweetness and dignity of his manner impressed

me at once, and I unbosomed myself to him without reserve. I may

mention here that he had been twenty-five or thirty years in the

Navy when Virginia seceded from the Union, and instantly resigned

his commission to share the fortunes of his native State. In his

profession he had already gained distinction, and I have seen

the sword of honor presented to him by the State of Virginia in

recognition of his gallantry in an engagement with pirates in the

Chinese Seas. On the golden scabbard of this sword his name and

rank are engraved, with this simple but eloquent inscription:

“_The State of Virginia to a devoted son._”

It need not be said that Captain Pegram was exceedingly kind and

patient, but he told me frankly that it was impossible for him

to do what I wished. He said: “I have no office which I can give

you, and this being a Government vessel, I cannot take you as

a passenger.” Afterwards, I learned that some of the officers

suggested that I might be a “Yankee spy” endeavoring to get into

a position where I should be able to report the movements of the

_Nashville_ to her anxious friends on the other side. Amongst

other things, Captain Pegram told me that there would be plenty of

opportunities of reaching the South, as the United States would

certainly refuse to surrender Messrs. Mason and Slidell [who had

been taken from the English mail steamer _Trent_ by Captain Wilkes

of the _San Jacinto_, on November 8th, 1861], and that England’s

first act after declaring war would be to raise the blockade of the

Southern ports. In spite of Captain Pegram’s refusal, I persisted

in urging him to take me, and at last he said: “There is only one

thing that can be done; if you like to go as a sailor before the

mast I will take you, but of course you will not dream of doing

that.” My answer was “I will do it; and I hope that you will let

me know when you are about to sail, in order that I may be here in

time.” Captain Pegram told me that he would do this, but either

forgot it or supposed that my intentions must have changed when

I realized what I had undertaken. But I did not realize it, and

I did not change my mind. I ought to say here that, although I

was twenty-one years old at this time, I did not look more than

seventeen or eighteen, which will account for the habit that

Captain Pegram has had of saying that I was a mere boy at the time

that he made my acquaintance.

I returned to London, and began at once to make arrangements

for my departure. My friend from Arkansas told me that the one

indispensable thing was a bowie-knife, and he explained the divers

uses to which this weapon could be put, assuring me that I would

have no difficulty in seizing the gun of a Yankee soldier by the

muzzle and, with one dexterous blow, severing the barrel in twain.

Another way of using it was to attach a cord to the handle of

this bowie-knife and, with a skillful throw, to drive the blade

into the heart of the advancing foeman, and, when he should have

fallen, to haul it back by the string, and repeat the operation on

another of the enemy. I had not much faith in my ability to use

the bowie-knife in this fashion, but I ordered one to be made by a

surgical instrument maker, according to a pattern given me by my

Arkansas friend. A sanguinary looking weapon it was. The blade was

fifteen inches long and about three inches wide, at the broadest

part, and a third of an inch thick at the back. I provided myself

with a sea-chest, which, according to Marryatt’s novels, was

indispensable to a sea-faring man, caused my name to be painted on

it in big white letters, and held myself in readiness to start.

But no summons came. The papers would occasionally say that the

_Nashville_ was to sail in a day or two, and I had many a false

alarm. Tired of waiting, I bade good-bye to my people at home, and

went down to Southampton, determined to remain there until the time

for going aboard should come.

At Southampton I purchased a sailor’s outfit, and, when I had

rigged myself out in what I considered the proper style, I went

down to the vessel. I wore a blue woolen shirt open at the neck;

a black silk handkerchief, with ample flowing ends, tied loosely

around the neck; blue trousers, made very tight at the knee and

twenty-two inches in circumference at the bottom, and on my

head a flat cloth cap ornamented with long black ribbons. I had

besides, in the famous sea-chest, a pea jacket, sea boots, and the

necessary under-clothing. As a reminder of my former estate, I

retained a suit of dress clothes, and a black Inverness cape which

I had been in the habit of wearing.