During the month of March, 1863, the Lee's port of destination was St. George's, Bermuda. This island is easily accessible on the southern side, and was much resorted to by blockade-runners. Surrounded on all other sides by dangerous coral reefs, which extend for many miles into deep water, a vessel of heavy draft can approach from the south within a cable's length of the shore. A light of the first class at the west end of the group composing the "Bermudas," is visible for many miles in clear weather. It may as well be mentioned here, that the blockade-runners rarely approached any head land during daylight; "preferring darkness rather than light." The agent of the Confederate Government, Major Walker, with his staff of assistants, lived at St. George's; and he and his accomplished wife always welcomed their compatriots with genuine hospitality. The house of Mr. Black (an assistant of the Major) was also open to us, and no sick exile from home will ever forget the tender nursing of Mrs. Black and the kindness of that whole family. The little graveyard attached to the Episcopal church at St. George's, contains all that is mortal of several gallant youths from the south, who died of yellow fever; but they were soothed in the hours of their last illness by Christian counsel, and by tender hands. The white natives of the island, too, extended many attentions and civilities to Confederates, so that St. George's became not only a harbor of refuge, but a pleasant resting place after the excitement and fatigue of an outward voyage. The same antagonism which prevails between the white and the black races, wherever they live together upon equal terms, exists in Bermuda. People are classed there as "colored and plain" and a fine of one pound sterling is imposed for calling the former "negroes." There must be a natural antipathy between the two races; or at least it seems to exist in the heart of the negro, for wherever he has the power, he shows his dislike and jealousy of the white man. In Hayti, since the French inhabitants were murdered, the jealousy and hatred of the negroes have been directed against the mulattoes, who have been nearly exterminated; and the whites in Jamaica would have shared the same fate at the hands of a brutal horde of black savages a few years ago, but for the premature exposure of the plot, and the vigorous action of the Governor of the island. In the model republic of Liberia no white man can obtain the right of citizenship, own real estate, nor sit upon a jury. Nowhere in the world did there exist the same kindly relation between the two races, as in the South before the war; and even now, the older negroes seek aid and advice, when in difficulties, from their former owners, although they have been misled by unprincipled adventurers, by whom they have been taught to distrust them in politics. A short time ago Dr. B—, a Virginia gentleman, was asked by a Northerner his opinion of the negroes' feelings toward the Southern people. "I will tell you," replied Dr. B. "If you and I were candidates for the same office, you would get every negro's vote; but, if one of them wanted advice or assistance he would come to me or some other southerner."
The group composing the "Bermudas" still justifies the reputation given to it by one of the British admirals of the "olden time." The "Bermoothees," he records in his quaintly written journal, "is a hellish place for thunder, lightning, and storms." Shakspeare, too, sends "Ariel" to "fetch dew" from the "still vexed Bermoothes" for his exacting master Prospero. But although gales of wind during the winter, and thunder storms in the summer, are so prevalent, the climate is delightful. There are upward of three hundred islands in the group, most of them mere barren coral rocks; and the largest, St. George's, is not more than three miles long, and about a mile in width. The roads are cut out of the soft coral, which hardens by exposure to the atmosphere, and are perfect.
There are several very curious natural caves about five miles distant from St. George's; and near one of them is still pointed out the calabash tree under which the Irish poet, Tom Moore, is said to have composed one of his sonnets to Nea, who afterwards became the wife of Mr. Tucker, and left many descendants on the island. The venerable old gentleman was living, in his ninetieth year, when I was last in St. George's; and although the bride of his youth, and his rival the poet, had been long mouldering in their graves, he was still so jealous of the latter that he would not allow his great-grandchildren to keep a copy of the poet's works in the house.
The only indigenous tree upon the islands, I believe, is the cedar; the oleander, which now grows everywhere, having been introduced by Mr. Tucker. Nearly all of the tropical fruits grow there, and many indigenous to the temperate zone; but the staple products are potatoes and onions, chiefly for the New York market, and arrow root. The waters teem with fish of the most brilliantly beautiful colors. An ingenious individual has succeeded in taming a number, by availing himself of a natural cavity in the coral situated close to the shore and a few miles distant from St. George's. The sea water, percolating through the coral, supplies the basin. At a whistle the tame fish swim close to the edge and feed from one's hand.
There is a naval station at "Ireland Island," and a floating dock (which was built in England and towed out,) capable of taking in the largest-sized man of war. The naval officers attached to the dock-yard, and to the men of war, were always friendly and more than civil to Confederates; being sometimes, indeed, too profuse in their hospitality. Upon one occasion, Col. —— a personal friend of mine, had obtained a furlough, and permission to make a trip in the Lee, for the sake of his health, broken by the hardships of a campaign in northern Virginia. The purser, who was always ready for a "lark," and the Colonel, who was of an inquiring turn of mind, paid a visit to the dock-yard. After an inspection of it, they went on board several of the men of war in harbor, receiving on board each of them refreshments, solid and liquid. They had crossed over to Ireland Island in a sail-boat, and when about to return, were escorted to the wharf by a party of officers. Their boat was lying outside of another, containing a fat old washerwoman; and Col.——, who had had no experience in boating in his life, except "paddling his own canoe" upon a mill pond in Amelia county, Va., stopped to exchange farewell salutations with the party of officers on the wharf, while he stood with one foot in the "stern sheets" of the washerwoman's boat, and the other in his own. The boatman forward, ignorant of the critical state of affairs, hoisted the jib, and the boat, under the influence of a stiff breeze, began to "pay off" before the wind. Before Col. —— could "realize the situation," he was in the attitude of the Colossus of Rhodes. The purser promptly seized one of his legs, and the fat washerwoman with equal presence of mind, laid hold of the other. Each was determined not to let go, and the strain upon the Colonel must have been terrific; but he was equal to the emergency. Taking in the whole situation, he deliberately drew his watch out of his pocket, and holding it high above his head with both hands, he said, with his usually imperturbable calmness, "Well I reckon you had better let go!" His endeavors to protect his watch proved to have been fruitless; the purser indeed always insists that he touched bottom in three fathoms of water. He returned on board the Lee to be wrung out and dried.
CHAPTER IX.
We sail for Wilmington.—Thick Weather on the Coast.—Anchored among the Blockading Fleet.—The "Mound."—Running the Blockade by Moonlight.—A Device to mislead the Enemy.—The man Hester.