was greatly attached, and who had for some
years been married. This lady resided abroad,
somewhere in Italy, to the best of my knowledge,
and her husband was an American gentleman
from one of the Southern states, and the
owner of sufficient property to enable him to
live in Europe with his English wife. But I
was now to hear, for the first time, that on the
outbreak of hostilities Mr. Bolton had found it
impossible to withstand the call of patriotism,
that he had hastened across the Atlantic to take
service in the Confederate army, and that he
had quieted his young wife's apprehensions by
the promise of a speedy return. Many Southerners
did the same, obeying the summons to
arms with a certainty that the whole dispute
would be settled in one short campaign. Among
the disappointed was Captain Bolton. Long
months went by, and still the war went on, nor
did any safe and convenient opportunity for his
wife to rejoin him present itself. Blockaded by
sea, and guarded by land, the passage of the
Confederate frontier was full of risks, especially
for ladies and children. Natural anxiety and
hope deferred had affected Mrs. Bolton's health
and spirits. She had come back from Italy to
England, to be nearer, as she said, to her
husband when he should summon her to share
his fortunes. And at last the summons had
come, but it was no joyful one.

Captain Bolton had been severely wounded in
a skirmish with some of General Gilmore's
troops, then besieging Charleston, and he had
expressed a strong desire to see his wife and
babes for what might but too probably be the
last time. And the favour which Mr. Trent
had to ask of me was, that I should undertake
the task of escorting his niece and her children
on the hazardous voyage to South Carolina.
The hazards of which I have spoken of course
belonged entirely to the last portion of the route,
for the outward run from England to the British
possession of New Providence was safe and easy.
But between the Bahama Islands and the
Carolina coast lay the blockading squadron, and
I knew that no trifling dangers and hardships
must be risked by those whom love of gain or
any higher motive should urge to elude the
vigilance of the Federals. Be that as it might,
I undertook the commission, and the next
packet carried Mrs. Bolton and her two children,
under my care, to Nassau, where the real
difficulties of the pilgrimage began.

To procure a passage to Charleston, Wilmington,
or some other and less known port of
the beleaguered Confederacy, was, indeed, easy
enough. The bay was full of vessels attracted
to that once lonely roadstead by the gainful
contraband commerce then at its height. There, at
anchor, side by side, lay the bluff-bowed brig
that had brought out a cargo of war material
from England, and the swift rakish schooner
destined to carry on the transhipped freight to a
Southern harbour. All the fishing-boats, dories,
and canoes, seemed to have been enlisted in the
service of plying between the deep-laden vessels
and the shore, and the quays were all too small
to accommodate the towering piles of clothing
and medicine, saddles, sabres, cavalry boots,
kegs of gunpowder, and Birmingham rifles, that
lay heaped upon wharf and jetty. Streets,
landing-place, beach and bay, were all alive with the
hustle and stir of a gainful and perilous traffic.
Under such circumstances as these, to obtain a
passage to the American mainland might have
appeared the simplest proceeding conceivable.

Such, however, was far from being the case.
I found, by listening to the flying reports that
circulated about the town, and which invariably
referred to the one absorbing topic of interest,
that the blockade was more serious than we in
England had believed it to be. Many of the sly
low black-hulled steamers, many of the tall-
masted schooners and brigantines, that lay
awaiting an opportunity to slip off unnoticed,
were destined to capture. This was a mere
matter of profit and loss, as an old merchant,
whose English was made peculiar by the drawling
Bermudian accent, explained to me on the
second day of our stay at Nassau.

"You see, sir, one cargo in three pays, and
one cargo in four saves us from being out of
pocket—yes, mister. We count on some loss,
we do, but if a clipper has the luck to get twice
in with notions, and twice out with cotton, why
the Yankees are welcome to her afterwards,
hull, spars, and running gear."

"And the crew?" I inquired.

But my communicative friend treated this
part of the business lightly enough. The
seamen had high pay, and took their share of the
risk of being shot, drowned, or blown up, in
consideration of extra wages. The captain and
mates were allowed stowage for so many cubic
feet of European goods, one way, and so many
cotton bales, the other, and often had a
percentage on the amount realised by a fortunate
venture. Success, therefore, meant wealth for
the owners and officers, and at least a pocketful
of dollars for the foremastmen, and in case of
capture there was no danger of anything worse
than a tedious and comfortless detention for
some months in Fortress Monroe or elsewhere.
When, however, I spoke of the probable results
of an unsuccessful attempt to the passengers,
supposing the latter to be persons connected
with the South by descent or adoption, the
talkative Bermudian grew serious.

"That," as he observed, "was no laughing
matter. Uncle Sam was plaguy vexed with
rebels or rebels' friends, and to get out of his
clutches, when once made prisoner, was not
easy."

And, indeed, I found that the boarding-hotels
of the island were crammed with the families of
Southerners, longing for a secure opportunity
of rejoining the husbands and fathers who, far
away in Virginia, Tennessee, or Carolina, were
fighting or toiling in the cause of their new-born
republic, but afraid to make the perilous plunge.
If many vessels came back triumphant, many
were taken or destroyed, and most of those that
came victoriously in with a welcome freight of
costly cotton could show the shot-holes in their