I found Galveston a most forsaken place; its streets covered with sand, its wharves rotting, its defences in a most deplorable condition, very different from those at Wilmington, and if the Northerners had taken the trouble I think that they could easily have possessed themselves of it. But our welcome was warm, and during the Banshee's long stay we had a real good time; General Magruder was in command, and many a cheery entertainment we had on board with him and his staff as guests, who were all musical. We had a capital French cook, and as plenty of game, fish, and oysters were procurable, and our good liquor was plentiful, we had all the necessary ingredients for many most sociable evenings—this was the bright side of the picture.
The reverse was the difficulty I had in procuring a suitable outward cargo; the inward one was all right, and I found our assortment would sell well, but the trouble was to obtain cotton: there was extremely little of it left near the seaboard, and to get it from further up country was a long, tedious, and expensive process. Moreover, I found there would be great difficulty in having it pressed, and to take a cargo of half-pressed cotton meant very serious loss indeed; however, having arranged for the sale by auction of the inward cargo, Hurst and I started for Houston, the capital of Texas, armed with a letter of introduction to the most influential merchant there, who agreed after endless negotiations to provide at a high price a full-pressed cargo, but required a long time for delivery and payment half in Confederate money (being part of the proceeds of our inward cargo), and the balance by drafts on home. This meant a further loss in withdrawing my superfluous proceeds from the country, but as no better bargain could be made I agreed.
Houston, in those days, was a pretty little town, very dull of course, but fortunately we made the acquaintance of a charming family, refugees from Baton Rouge, who were most kind to us, and I shall ever feel grateful to Mrs. Avery and her fair daughters for the hospitality which they extended to me.
After concluding these arrangements I returned to Galveston, being rather amused on the journey by the sudden stoppage of the train, which had been crawling along at about ten miles an hour, followed by the leisurely exit of the conductor and engine driver each with a gun on his shoulder, who calmly disappeared across the prairie on a gunning expedition. After about an hour's delay the sportsmen returned fairly successful, and with "all aboard" we resumed our journey.
A few days subsequently I witnessed a sad sight—the execution of a deserter, a fine fellow, sergeant of artillery, whose only offence was that he had crossed the Mississippi into the Northern lines in order to visit his wife and family, intending, it was believed, to return; he was captured, however, and condemned to death by court-martial, and the whole of the garrison of Galveston was paraded to witness his execution. It was an anxious time for the authorities, as it was expected that his battery would attempt a rescue, so the other two batteries were drawn up opposite with guns loaded ready to fire on it if it did. The sergeant was led out, and six men were placed a few paces in front of him; after refusing to have his eyes bandaged, he dropped his hand as a signal for them to fire; a report as from one rifle rang out, and he dropped on his face dead. The saddest part of this incident was, that within an hour of his execution a pardon arrived from headquarters at Houston on a railway trolly; no locomotive being available four men had worked the trolly down, but too late.
Finding that the accumulation of cargo and consequent loading of the Banshee would occupy a long time, and owing to the critical state of affairs in the South rendering it absolutely necessary for me to return to Nassau as soon as possible, I decided to take a passage in a friend's blockade-runner then ready to start, leaving my able lieutenant Frank Hurst to settle up things and come out in the Banshee. But I did not like it at all; it was the first time I was to try the venture in a strange craft and as a mere passenger, and from what I had seen of the skipper I had not over much confidence in him.
On a night which was eminently suited for the purpose we made a start, but no sooner did we get down to the Tripod, which marked the entrance to the channel, than we made out a couple of the blockaders—a sight quite enough for the nerves of our captain, who declared we should certainly be seen and immediately gave orders to turn back. This was not my idea of blockade-running as I had been accustomed to it, but being a passenger I had no locus standi on board; we put back to the harbour and next morning were well chaffed. To make a long story short we made a second attempt next night with like results, and I was beginning to feel thoroughly disgusted. Every hour's delay with a growing moon now increased our risks; on the third night, by dint of goading the skipper, whose coal was running short, I persuaded him to harden his heart and make a run for it. When we reached the Tripod we made out several of the squadron, but we put our helm a-starboard, ran along the land, and fortunately got clear.
Crossing the Gulf of Mexico we made out nothing; perhaps this was because no look-out was kept; and mightily glad I was when we made the coast of Cuba and steamed into Havana. This trip was certainly a revelation to me as regards blockade-running, and no wonder many a fine boat, navigated, no doubt, on the same lines as the —— had been thrown away.
This was my last trip, the twenty-eighth—a record, I think, for any Englishman during the war, and considering the narrow squeaks that I had, and that I only came to grief once in the Night Hawk, I had a great deal to be thankful for.
Upon my arrival in Havana I found the mail boat was starting for Nassau next day, and in her I took my passage. I found Nassau much changed, as during my absence Wilmington, after an heroic defence of Fort Fisher by my old friend Lamb, had been captured, and had it not been for the supineness (not to use a stronger phrase) of General Bragg, who commanded the Confederate forces outside the fort and who failed to attack the Northern attacking force in the rear when the assault was made, Lamb's second defence would have been as successful as the first, and Fort Fisher and Wilmington would have been saved to the Confederate Government—a result which might have had a very important bearing upon the issue of the struggle. Wilmington and Charleston being now closed, Nassau's days as a blockade-running centre were over, and the only thing to do was to wind up our affairs as well as we could, and prepare to go home. Even then it was evident that the game was up as far as the South was concerned, and very shortly afterwards we heard of Lee's surrender and the virtual ending of the war.