All these questions were submitted to one of his Cabinet officers, Judah P. Benjamin. Mr. Benjamin was of Jewish ancestry and one of the ablest men who guided the way of the Confederacy. After the general breakup, he escaped to England, became a leader of the bar of London, counsel to the Queen and won the highest honors of his profession before he died. This distinguished gentleman examined with great care the questions involved, particularly on the piracy point, and he gave an opinion that it would be entirely within the scope of international law to equip and sail a vessel out of any port of the United States provided no overt act against commerce were committed before a foreign port was reached, letters of marque exhibited there and the open purpose of those in command declared. So for what followed I had at least the advice of eminent counsel and I still believe that the advice was absolutely sound.
In due course of time I received a commission as a captain in the Confederate Navy. I had never been on a man-of-war in my life, but that made no difference. A fresh water naval hero may be as good as the salt water kind. Also I received letters of marque in blank, the names to be filled in when the vessel reached a foreign port. Besides that I was intrusted with quite a bundle of mail, addressed to leading Southerners in California and doubtless of a highly compromising character.
JEFFERSON DAVIS
The able and illustrious leader of the Lost Cause
This literary consignment nearly got not only myself but many other people into a peck of trouble, which I might as well tell of now, although it is somewhat ahead of my story. Returning to California, liking not the route through Mexico, I had the blockade runner land me at Aspinwall, where I joined the passengers of a Pacific Mail liner and embarked at Panama for the run north. As we were approaching San Francisco I became uneasy about my documents, fearing that enough about my movements might be known to cause a close personal search.
On board the steamer was a lady long famous in California, Mrs. Charles S. Fairfax. Her husband was the lineal Lord Fairfax of the British peerage. She was a niece of John C. Calhoun, a woman of great beauty, wit and resourcefulness and an intense Southern sympathizer. We became rather confidential on the way up and I told her about the package and my fears.
“Why, what stupid fools men are, anyhow,” she laughed, “give that package to me and set your mind at rest.” The suggestion looked good, for, of course, I could assume responsibility if the documents were found. That night Mrs. Fairfax left her door just a bit ajar and as I passed it something was slipped to her. No one saw the transfer.
When we reached San Francisco what I feared came true. Not alone my luggage, but my person were subjected to a search that hardly overlooked my soul. While I was in the hands of the minions of the law, who seemed sadly disappointed over their fruitless quest, Mrs. Fairfax swept by in her stately way; all the same I seemed to catch a twinkle of humor in her eye.
Two days later, the lady handed me the package. The seals were broken, but the contents intact. “You gave me a lot of bother,” said the lady, “I had to sit up all night sewing these wretched papers in my dress. What was worse still, I never dared to change it. Just imagine what the other women thought of me.”