The fourth year of the war saw an end of the struggle, not only because of the immense superiority of the North in men and material, but also on account of a change of policy in procuring supplies. For a long time there were no contractors between the European sources of supply and the great consumer, the army. Cotton, the only article of value to the outside world, passed into possession of the Government continuously and without friction, and was landed in Nassau—exceptionally in Bermuda—with no back charges due. Every shilling that a bale was worth, as it lay at the landing-place, was so much to the credit of the War or Navy Department with Fraser, Trenholm & Co., Liverpool, and was available as soon as the arrival was announced by mail via New York. There were literally no leaks. More devoted or more intelligent and trustworthy agents than were Fraser, Trenholm & Co., during the four years in which they acted for the Richmond Government, never served any principal.
But in the latter stages of the war, contracts with the Government began to appear. These contracts, made in Richmond, were generally a sort of partnership affair by which the contractor, usually an English company, shared equally the freighting capacity of each blockade runner. A representative of one of these companies brought to me, one day, a draft on myself for a large sum in sterling—I think it was £10,000, but this may not be the exact sum. What to do with it was a difficult problem. The payee, a respectable merchant of Richmond, presented it in person, and there was no doubt of its genuineness. After considering the matter a few minutes, I said:
"I can't pay this, Captain C——."
"What!" he said, "Repudiate the draft of Colonel Gorgas?"
"Can't help it; I cannot and shall not honor it. I need much more money than I have received, to pay for what has gone forward, and I have large contracts out for supplies."
"I will assume your contracts," he replied.
"But I will not assign them to you."
Here was a collision between officer and Government contractor, which might result in the professional ruin of the officer; for the draft was an order from his superior. Although a good many rough words were interchanged, I stood my ground and did not pay the draft. I read between the lines of Col. Gorgas's letters that he would stand by me, and he did. The draft was undoubtedly made by higher authority—probably the Secretary of War, Mr. Seddon—who at the time had not been long in office, while Col. Gorgas had served from the organization of the Confederate Government in Montgomery. I never heard anything more about the repudiated draft, and, not long after, I was informed that, at the request of the War Department, I had been advanced to the grade of Major.
In this connection I may mention an incident that occurred somewhat later. Mr. Yancey had returned to Richmond, and Mr. James H. Mason had taken his place as Commissioner. It would be difficult to imagine two men more opposite in character, discharging the same functions. Mr. Yancey was a much younger man, and had been a student at Williams College, Massachusetts. He had represented Alabama in the United States Congress, and was sufficiently acquainted with affairs in general to hold his own in almost any company. His voice and manners were pleasing, and his estimate of himself was sufficiently modest to make him an appreciative listener. I never heard him address an audience but once, but that once convinced me he was a born orator. It was at a Fishmongers' Guild dinner, and the few representatives of the Confederate States were the guests of the evening. Mr. Yancey sat on the left of the Lord Warden. I sat four or five seats from him, on the opposite side, the tables being arranged in the form of a horse shoe. There was a large number present, and many were evidently Americans from the North.