As soon as night fell over the sea the Banshee slipped quietly from her secret anchorage, crossed the river bar, and following the observations they had taken, ran close by the flagship, and so out to sea, clear of the first cordon. But in trying to pass the second they ran across a gunboat, which at once opened fire. The men lay down on the deck, and the engines throbbed and thumped. Luckily the gunboat was very slow, and they soon lost one another; but as they could hear her pounding along behind, they attempted a ruse. The helm was put hard over, so that they steamed in a direction at right angles to their former course, and in a few minutes their engines were stopped. The Banshee lay perfectly still. The crew rose on their elbows and peeped over the bulwarks, following the course of the gunboat by the flashes of her guns and by the rockets she was sending up madly to attract or warn her consorts. So they saw her go plunging past them and firing madly into the dark abyss of the night.
After resting five minutes on the heaving wave, the Banshee started again as noiselessly as she could. One danger remained—the third cordon. You may be sure they stared wide-eyed round the horizon as morning broke. With the Banshee so heavily laden it would be fatal to meet a cruiser in the daylight.
No smoke visible—no sail! All that day and for two days more they steamed on with fear beside them. On the evening of the third day they steamed proudly into Nassau, though a heavy list to starboard made them present a rather drunken appearance.
The profits of blockade-running may be estimated by the fact that though the Banshee afterwards became a total loss by capture, she earned enough on her eight successful trips to pay the shareholders 700 per cent. on their investment. The Northerners turned her into a gunboat, but she asserted her sympathies for the South by running foul of the jetty in the naval yard at Washington.
On another run in the Night Hawk, after getting safely through the blockading fleet, they grounded on the bar, and two launches speedily boarded them. The Northerners were very excited, and evidently expected to meet with desperate resistance, for firing of revolvers and wild cutlass blows surprised the crew of the Night Hawk, who stood quietly on the poop waiting to be taken prisoners.
“This roused my wrath,” says Taylor, “and I expostulated with the Lieutenant upon his firing on unarmed men.”
They then cooled down and began a search for portable valuables; but, perhaps because they feared Colonel Lamb might come to the rescue, they made haste about this, and then set fire to the ship fore and aft.
They were quickened in their departure by the humour of an Irish fireman, who sang out lustily:
“Begorra! begorra! but we shall all be in the air in a minute, with this ship full of gunpowder!”