Sketches From My Life / By The Late Admiral Hobart Pasha

by Augustus Charles Hobart-Hampden

Our land pilot informed us that the bank of the river, from whence we should find a clear passage across, was about two miles distant. I never remember seeing or feeling anything to be compared with the darkness of that pine wood, but our guide seemed to have the eyes of a basilisk. We formed Indian file, our guide leading, and crept along as best we could. At last, after stealthily progressing for half an hour, a glimmer of starlight through the trees showed us that we were getting to the borders of the wood.

A few minutes afterwards we were desired to lie down. Feeling helpless as babes, we passively obeyed, and watched our guide as he moved about like a spectre in the long grass on the banks of the Potomac, looking for his canoe. At last he returned and whispered that the boat was all right, and we all crept like serpents to where it was concealed. Nothing could be heard but the wind blowing through the trees, and the discordant noises of frogs and other denizens of the swamp. So dark was the night that we could hardly see fifty yards across the river. I suppose this was all in our favour; but how our guide knew the marks by which to steer was a puzzle to me, and as I never meant to profit by this experience I asked no questions.

Not a word was spoken as we (myself and my friend) launched the canoe silently into the water and seated ourselves, or rather obeyed orders and lay down, the pilot sitting in the stern, with his face towards the bows of the boat, having a light paddle in his hand, which he worked wonderfully well and silently. The distance across the river was about three miles.

We shot ahead at a rapid pace for about five minutes, when suddenly, bump went the canoe against something. To lie flat down was to our guide the work of a second, and the canoe was at once transformed into a floating log.

Well it was so, for it seems we had struck a small boat that was fastened astern of the gun-boat guarding the river. That the noise of the collision had been heard on board was evident, for a sentry hailed, 'Boat ahoy!' and fired his musket, and one of those detestable bright lights which the American men-of-war have a nasty habit of showing flashed over the water, making everything visible for a hundred yards round. The current of the river, however, was very strong, and I fancy we had drifted out of the radius covered by the light, as we were fortunately not discovered; or perhaps the diligent watchman on board the man-of-war thought some huge crocodile or other monster had come in contact with their boat. Be that as it may, we were safe, and twenty minutes more paddling brought us to land on the opposite bank of the river; but unfortunately our little adventure had thrown us out of our line, or as we sailors should have called it, out of our course. We hauled the canoe out of the water, and hid her in the long grass. All we could see around us was a dismal swamp, with the dark wood in the background. Our guide honestly told us that having been thrown out of his 'reckoning' in regard to our position, to move from where we were before daybreak would be madness, so we took a pull at the brandy bottle, lighted our pipes and waited patiently, having moved well in under cover of the long grass, so as to be out of sight of any vessel lying in the river near to us.

When the day dawned, our pilot after having reconnoitred told us that we were very well placed for starting for Washington; but that it would be impossible, on account of the patrols that were constantly watching the river's banks, for us to move during the daytime, so we were doomed to remain all day in the damp grass. Luckily we had put in our pockets at last night's supper some black bread and an onion or two; so we made the best of things, and so did the sandflies. How they did pitch into us, especially into me! I suppose the good living I had been accustomed to on board the blockade-runner, or my natural disposition to good condition, made me taste sweet. Several times during that fearful day I was tempted to rush out from my hiding-place, and defying patrols, gun-boat's crew, and all authorities, make my escape from that place of torture.

Anyone who has experienced the necessity of remaining quiet under such an infliction as an attack of millions of sandflies on a hot sunny day will appreciate my feelings. About one o'clock we got as a diversion from our tormentors a great fright. A boat's crew of a gun-boat lying about a mile distant from our retreat landed, and out of sheer idleness set fire to the grass about a hundred yards from where we were lying concealed.

We heard the crackling of the grass and thought of leaving our concealment at the risk of discovery; but our guide wisely remarked that the wind was the wrong way to bring the fire towards our hiding-place, so we felt safe. The feeling of security was more pleasant, because we distinctly heard the men belonging to the gun-boat conversing with others, who clearly were patrols on the river's bank.

The evening at last closed in, and as soon as it was quite dark we moved on, and after struggling through a thick wood for half an hour, got on the high road to Washington. We travelled by night, meeting occasional patrols, whom we dodged by either lying down or getting behind trees till they had passed.

We concealed ourselves carefully during the day, and on the third morning before daylight we were within half a mile of the city. As we got near the bridge close outside Washington, we tried our best to look like the rest of the people who were going on their ordinary business; and though somewhat severely scrutinised by the guard we managed to pass muster, and got safely into Washington, footsore, hungry, and regularly done up.