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 BERMUDA AND THE BLOCKADE. 
 
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 Apr ♦ 15, 1867. 
 
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 Library of 
 The University of North Carolina 
 
 COLLECTION OF 
 
 NORTH CAROLINIANA 
 
 ENDOWED BY 
 
 JOHN SPRUNT HILL 
 
 of the Class of 1889 
 
 ^970,75- (M£ fl 
 
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 FOR USE ONLY IN 
 'TF T NA COLLECTION 
 

 BEEMUDA AND THE BLOCKADE. 
 
 PREVIOUS to the Southern Rebellion, Bermuda was compara- 
 tively unknown to the world, except as an important British 
 naval station. No startling episode in the great concatenation of 
 events had occurred for many years to disturb the tranquil repose 
 of her many peaceful islands. Far out and alone in the broad 
 Atlantic, like some beautiful recluse, she wooed the soft winds of 
 Summer, or bared her breast to the Autumnal gales that wreathed 
 her reefs and bald bluffs with foam. Monthly, the packet passing 
 to and fro between St. Thomas and Halifax, and touching there, 
 roused her from her Rip Van Winkle sleep ; and when the few 
 hours' bustle at the wharf had ceased, when the mail coach that 
 ran from the hither point to the extremity of the islands had dis- 
 pensed its favors along the circuitous route, and the little budget of 
 news and epistolary missals had been duly digested, she lapsed 
 again into the quiet of her daily routine. Her small farmers culti- 
 vated arrowroot, tomatoes, onions, and potatoes to a limited extent 
 only (for her negroes had grown negligent and thriftless under the 
 license of their freedom), an occasional craft dropped into her land- 
 locked bays to bear her vegetable tributes to the markets of the 
 North. And when the people of colder climes ate, in the early 
 Spring-time, of her luscious bananas and those other luxuries so 
 acceptable because so out of season, they thought kindly of Ber- 
 muda ; and many an invalid went out to breathe the genial air of 
 her Winter months. Tourists, too, have sketched the charms of 
 her cedar-covered islets with their ever-chanr 'ng outlines — and once 
 the graceful pen of the romantic, and now lamented Willis essayed 
 the pleasing task ; but his eyes were dazed by the glare of her 
 white limestone roads and snowy cottages and cliffs, and so he 
 hastened home and never did full justice to Bermuda. 
 
 But suddenly a new era dawned upon the islands. A marvellous 
 change came over the sleepy realm ; the spell that bound the en- 
 chanted isle was broken. The war in America crowded her poits 
 with shipping, and awakened the echoes of busy trade and com- 
 merce, which frightened the hobgoblins from the caves which they 
 had tenanted since Shakespeare sang the tale of " vexed Bermoe- 
 thes " tAvo hundred years ago. The blockade of the Southern ports 
 threw into her lap rare treasures, to which her eyes had been unac- 
 customed before, and often upon her deep, transparent waters, were 
 seen what looked like clots of foam, but which were really stray 
 waifs of cotton floating — cotton worth two shillings sterling per 
 pound. Ah, what golden harvests were reaped, what mighty risks 
 
Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 in 2013 
 
 http://archive.org/details/bermudablockadeOOnewy 
 
BERMUDA AND THE BLOCKADE. 891 
 
 were run for this same cotton in those old blockading days ! It 
 seemed as though wealth came down in showers upon Bermuda. 
 It blessed all in any way connected with the blockade. It blessed 
 the adventurers of high and low degree, who gathered there from 
 the four quarters of the globe to speculate upon the national mis- 
 fortune ; it blessed the grasping Englishman, the Southern renegade, 
 the deserter from the North, and the mercenaries and sharpers of 
 all colors and pei'suasions, alike. The employes of blockade-run- 
 ners received fabulous wages — captains $2,500 in gold per round 
 trip, which never exceeded a month, and was sometimes made in a 
 week; pilots $1,500; engineers, coal-heavers, and seamen, in pro- 
 portion. The capitalists who invested in the venture seldom failed 
 to make fortunes, notwithstanding the large percentage of steamers 
 lost or captured, for the gains were so immense that one successful 
 voyage made up the loss of half a dozen failures. They fared 
 sumptuously every day upon the profits which they sheared from 
 the poverty and distress of those who bore the burden of the war. 
 Their steamers were supplied with the luxuries of every clime. The 
 cabin tables were spread with sparkling wines and choicest viands. 
 The pinched Confederates, whom three lingering years of war had 
 reduced to rags or homely homespun, looked with envious eyes upon 
 the sleek, well-dressed blockade-runners who sauntered through 
 their streets at will, while they themselves were in constant dread 
 of provost-marshals and conscripting officers. They gloated upon 
 the glittering gold the strangers lavished, and despised their own 
 paper dollar, which would hardly buy a row of pins. The invalid* 
 who sweltered and thirsted in the hospitals were thankful for the 
 boon of a little ice which they chanced to receive from some vessel's 
 chest at Charleston or Wilmington. It seemed to the struggling 
 South as if the steamers were the only link between their present 
 world of despair and a realm of happiness beyond ; and when, at 
 intervals, they steamed swiftly up to its deserted ports, their advent 
 was always welcomed with delight. 
 
 On such occasions there was some semblance in these ports of 
 the commercial activity in the by-gone days of peace. Negroes 
 bustled about the wharves, and the incessant clatter of the donkey 
 engines was heard, discharging freight which long-tailed drays 
 carted leisurely away. However, excepting these and the seamen, 
 only a few old men and youngsters of various hues sauntered about 
 the spot. The streets were quite deserted except by the provost 
 guard, an occasional female in mourning garb, or a crippled soldier 
 hobbling on his way. There was an oppressive sense of desolation 
 everywhere, such as one feels in an old mill where the machinery, 
 long since silenced, has gone to rust, with rank moss grown on the 
 water-wheel, and the weather-worn roof opening to the sky. In the 
 market, a brace of lean fowl and a half dozen slimy catfish patiently 
 
892 BERMUDA AND THE BLOCKADE. 
 
 waited a purchaser. An old scow ferried occasional passengers over 
 the river to the dilapidated buildings opposite. (We are writing 
 of Wilmington now.) All around the railroad depot broken 
 machinery, old cannons and merchandise were strewn. Three or 
 four used-up locomotives were in perpetual hospital at the round 
 house, and a wheezy old engine, with steam escaping at every joint, 
 had just struggled in with the " express train " of half a dozen 
 leaky cars, at a maximum speed of five miles an hour. ~No smoke 
 issued from the chimneys of the hamlet on the neighboring knoll, 
 for its owner was long since killed in the war, and the females of 
 the family had moved away. Lean cranes flapped lazily up from 
 among the rank reeds and cat-tails that grew in the abandoned rice- 
 fields. White people were out at their elbows and toes, and the 
 negroes wore fragments of Federal uniforms, which had been strip- 
 ped from battle-fields. Buzzards seldom vouchsafed their once 
 familiar presence, for they had long since followed their scent to 
 the richer banquets near Chancellorsville and Chattanooga. Cotton, 
 which had been brought from its hiding places in the interior, lay 
 piled in vast quantities in sheds and in the open air. In places it 
 was strewn knee-deep, where the bagging had burst open, rotted 
 by long exposure. Huge masses of rosin, melted and run together 
 and mingled with hoops and staves, were encountered on every 
 side. What wealth lay wasting here, while the world was suffering 
 for the want of it ! 
 
 Such was the picture, truthful as melancholy. At the steamers' 
 offices, however, there was always some stir, and when an auction 
 sale of blockade goods was advertised, something of a crowd was 
 collected. All the Jews swarmed there from far and near, like flies 
 around the bung of a sugar cask, wrangling with each other and 
 scrambling for the prizes offered. (These worthies owed no alle- 
 giance, except to Moses, and consequently were exempt from military 
 service.) Large prices were paid in Confederate scrip for coffee, 
 medicines, shoes and the rest of the catalogue ; and with the pro- 
 ceeds the blockade-runners purchased the coveted cotton at $250 
 per bale. When the blockade business was at its climax, Con- 
 federate money was worth about $14 for $1 in gold, and as the 
 cotton brought from 45 to 50 cents per pound in Bermuda, the 
 profit on a single bale was $230 ! 
 
 Sometimes as many as a dozen steamers were in the port of 
 Wilmington at once. In general they loaded leisurely, because they 
 had to wait their opportunity. It was only when the night was 
 moonless and the tide full on the bar that they could hope to run 
 the blockade with success. The " silvery moon " had no charms 
 for blockade-runners ; rather come storm and angry wrack of wind 
 and waves. Occasionally three or four would run out together 
 dividing the attention of the ever-vigilant blockading cruisers, but, 
 
BERMUDA AND THE BLOCKADE. 893 
 
 as a rule, each attempted the perilous gauntlet alone. Often they 
 failed upon the very threshold of their adventure, and the anxious 
 owners on shore received early intimation of their probable fate in 
 the dull boom of guns that was wafted from Fort Fisher, thirty 
 miles below. It was a bold act, worthy of brave men, to attempt 
 that bristling cordon of Federal ships in an unarmed, inoffensive 
 craft. Ladies often did it, too ; but ladies can be brave even when 
 men's courage quails. 
 
 / We can imagine one of these long and rakish steamers lying in 
 the stream opposite the cotton-sheds where she has been loading — 
 a jaunty craft with graceful lines, appointments all complete, and 
 color so like the dusk, that at nightfall she seems but a doubtful 
 shadow upon the water. The thin cloud of brown smoke that floats 
 from her funnel, and the merry " heave-yo " at the windlass, betoken 
 that she is getting under way. Her flags are flaunting gayly — a 
 Confederate at the stem, a British at the stern. There is a group 
 of ladies and children on her quarter-deck, and but for the long 
 rows of cotton bales that peer over her rail, one might imagine that 
 she was engaged for a pleasure excursion down the river, only that 
 it is not customary for officers in uniform to demand passports of 
 mere excursionists. Male passengers are scarce, for the gates of the 
 Confederacy are closed to such. Beside a couple of Jews, there 
 are an invalid and a cripple ; also two nondescripts, whom the pro- 
 vost guard, the shippers, the negroes on shore, their fellow-passen- 
 gers, and the examining officer, have repeatedly passed opinion upon 
 as to whether they were deserters, Yankee spies, correspondents of 
 the London " Times," Government officials, or agents of the Gov- 
 ernment departing on secret service. However, they are both 
 thoroughly "papered," and no objection can be made. Their pass- 
 ports are from headquarters at Richmond, and duly vised by the 
 commanding officer at Wilmington. 
 
 There is very little vivacity on board. A feeling of uncertainty 
 pervades all. Friends part with tremulous hand-shakings. Those 
 who command the craft know well the dangers that attend the voy- 
 age, and the risk that hangs over their rich freight of half a million. 
 Many a lady's bosom heaves with throbbing heart and breath sup- 
 pressed even while gliding securely past the rice-fields, marshes and 
 belts of timber that girt the river bank. Wilmington gradually 
 fades from view. The sun settles down upon the red horizon. An 
 iron-clad struggling up against the ctirrent is passed and left astern. 
 The steamer picks her way through tortuous channels, successive 
 obstructions of piles stretched across the river, and labyrinths of 
 torpedoes, marked by flag-buoys. Down near the mouth of the 
 river there is a battery, and from a cutter that has put out from 
 shore a lieutenant with his guard clambers over the ship's side to 
 search for stowaways and examine passports again. Every nook 
 
894 BERMUDA AND THE BLOCKADE. 
 
 and corner, every locker and pantry, is searched this time. Even 
 the hold and coal-bunkers are fumigated, to smoke out any who 
 perchance may have concealed themselves there. When these trials 
 have been endured, the steamer increases speed and proceeds on her 
 course to the broad and placid sound that is sheltered by the bar. 
 There she rests at anchor and awaits the protecting shades of night. 
 Here there is no danger. The bristling guns of Fort Fisher and 
 the Mound Battery, and the shoal water on the bar, afford double 
 protection. The blockading fleet lies miles away outside. Perhaps 
 from the masthead the outlines of one or two of them can be indis- 
 tinctly traced — nothing more. 
 
 As dusk falls, a little boat puts out from land. This brings the 
 indispensable pilot, who at once becomes grand master of the ship. 
 Everything depends upon his skill and implicit obedience to his 
 directions. He has the path before him all mapped out, and can 
 tell the number and latest position of every blockader off the adja- 
 cent coast. He has carefully noted the stage of water, marked the 
 channel, set his signal lights, and arranged the indispensable pre- 
 liminaries of the trip. At length the last glimmer of twilight has 
 vanished. A perceptible haze gathers upon the ocean. Every 
 light in the ship is carefully extinguished. The binnacle is envel- 
 oped with canvas. Telegraph lines are rigged fore and aft to com- 
 municate from the pilot forward to the officer who directs the helms- 
 man at the wheel. The lookouts, the captain and subordinate 
 officers take their respective places. Presently a deep sigh cornea 
 from the j>onderous engine, and a tremor runs through the vessel 
 as she gathers headway and snuffs the fresh breeze that comes from 
 the ocean. Strictest silence is enjoined now. Not a whisper is 
 heard. Even the plash of the patent paddle-wheels (never very 
 noisy) is drowned by the monotonous sough of the breaking waves. 
 The funnels emit no vapor or tell-tale sparks. The lights on shore 
 change rapidly with the varying course. A red lantern flashes for 
 an instant to starboard and then goes out, just where a glimpse 
 was caught of a cloaked figure seated in a skiff. A pale, white 
 light gleams on the larboard side. A brighter one blazes from Fort 
 Fisher in the distance. And thus the course is laid over the bar. 
 The speed of the vessel increases as the hour of trial approaches, 
 and the lights afloat and ashore flit and intermingle with a rapidity 
 that confuses the senses. Presently the swash and long swell of 
 the sea denote that the bar is passed, and the lights, now grown 
 faint and spectral, seem to keep pace with the vessel as she lays her 
 course along the coast. 
 
 The novice sits aft with bated breath and his heart in his throat, 
 a desperate grip upon some stanchion, and eyes straining far out 
 into the gloom, while, with a sinking sensation like being twirled 
 in a swing, he is hurried through space at a speed of twenty miles 
 
BERMUDA AND THE BLOCKADE. 895 
 
 an hour, over billows of liquid fire that roll off into the wake 
 behind. The silence is oppressive, and the suspense painful. But 
 presently a new object of interest absorbs attention. Can you see 
 nothing? there — just where the gleam of that brilliant star flashed 
 on the foam ? Pshaw ! 'tis mere fancy. The shadows always fall 
 deepest where the dull gray of the ocean blends with the sky. It 
 is the loom of the mist, nothing more. And yet there is something 
 that flits like a shadow, moving as we move — an undefined nebula 
 without shape or substance, ever attendant, like an incubus that 
 oppresses one in dreams. Ha ! this is exciting ! What tension of 
 taut-drawn nerves ! What if it should be one of them ! We are 
 drawing a little ahead of the thing now. Surely it is a blockader, 
 and one of the fleetest, too. Her scent is keen ! Those lights on 
 shore betray us whenever we run between them and her. If we 
 could only head her off now and stand out to sea ! But not yet ! 
 See ! she burns a blue light, and how it streams over the waves ! 
 And there goes a rocket ! We can see her plainly enough now — as 
 plainly as she can us — and so near, just on our port bow ! We are 
 lost beyond hope ; yet the ladies are calm and motionless, and the 
 children are sleeping quietly below. Ha ! there it comes — a shot. 
 "Take care ! " There is a dazzling glare like a flash of sheet light- 
 ning, a deafening roar from the guns, and all is gloom again. The 
 blue light has burned out. " Any one hurt ? Were we struck ? " 
 " No." " All right ; pitch in the rosin, engineer, and shove ahead ! 
 Hard-a-starboard there at the helm ! " There is no occasion for 
 farther silence now. The swift craft doubles on her track like a 
 swallow, and stands directly out to sea. In ten minutes she is safe. 
 Still, the engines do not cease their effort, but all night long she 
 leaves the coast at swiftest speed, outward bound for Bermuda. 
 Vigilance is not relaxed. By day there are lookouts stationed 
 aloft, and every craft like a steamer is carefully shunned ; at night, 
 again, lights out as before ; and so, day after day, until at length 
 the tall beacon on the islands flashes out its friendly blaze, the 
 steamer runs in under the rocky shore, and the rattle of the cable 
 over the bows tells that she is safely anchored in the roadstead. 
 
 In the early morning, with a negro pilot on board, the vessel 
 steams tortuously through narrow channels among picturesque 
 islands, some bald and wave-worn, and others crowned with snowy 
 cottages nestling in groves of cedar, with weather-stained ruins and 
 grim martello towers from which great cannon bristle, and round- 
 ing a point abruptly, comes at once in full view of the romantic 
 port of St. George's, with its crowded shipping, its white and yellow 
 limestone houses, its tropical trees Avith their great broad leaves, its 
 many skiffs and row-boats passing to and fro, and the grand old 
 hill behind with its signal-station and frowning battery. There the 
 blockade-runner, with its precious freight, had no fear of Federal 
 
896 BERMUDA AND THE BLOCKADE. 
 
 cruisers, albeit their ports might yawn and cannon bristle within 
 pistol range. 
 
 At only one other spot on the globe could be seen in those days 
 the same commercial features that made Bermuda attractive to 
 those interested in keeping open the outlet for cotton. As at 
 Nassau, so here, the attention of the stranger entering the harbor 
 was at once attracted to the sharp and graceful outlines of the 
 numerous lead-colored steamers that lay at anchor in the stream or 
 moored alongside the wharves; and among all the miscellaneous 
 shipping, but two flags were conspicuous — the cross of St. George 
 and the Rebel flag, the one with its crimson field and the other 
 with its field of snowy white. The Stars and Stripes were not 
 numerous, for fear of Rebel cruisers had induced the Federal vessels 
 to seek the protecting aegis of the British flag. On shore, long 
 lines of cotton bales lay piled upon the wharves ; vessels bound to 
 transatlantic ports were busily loading with the precious staple; 
 gangs of stalwart blacks sweltered in the sun as they plied their 
 eotton-hooks. Then, if ever, the negroes of Bermuda had fallen 
 upon " flush times." A crown was as easily earned as a shilling 
 used to be. Boating seemed to be the favorite employment of both 
 sexes. Fleets of skiffs and small craft of all descriptions thronged 
 like bees around a newly-arrived ship. Negroes of every size and 
 hue clung to her sides and clambered up the rigging, anxious to 
 earn a sixpence by putting passengers ashore. Ebony Venuses in 
 short frocks and palm-leaf hats with enormous brims vied with 
 greasy and dilapidated Sambos for customers. Six boats insisted 
 upon carrying the same passenger. There was always a ridiculous 
 rivalry at the foot of the gangway-ladder, and an incessant bandy- 
 ing of epithets and threats. And when some official barge hauled 
 in alongside with vigorous sweep of oars, there was a crash among 
 the lighter skiffs, a clatter of oars and paddles, a jargon of angry 
 voices, a dodging of woolly pates, and a rolling of whites of eyes 
 that threatened disaster somewhere. 
 
 The passenger who was fortunate enough to run the gauntlet of 
 this rivalry successfully, did not find St. George's an attractive 
 place ; nor will he to-day. The hot sun streams up from the daz- 
 zling white of its narrow limestone streets and is reflected again 
 from the walls on either side. Houses, neat and substantial enough, 
 but without architectural plan, are inconveniently placed in the 
 path just where one wishes to go. Streets, lanes and alleys inter- 
 sect each other in labyrinthine perplexity. The banana and paw- 
 paw grow in most improbable places, and dispute with the cottages 
 for their sites. Descending the hilly roads, the foot slips into a 
 gully, and going up, the toe encounters an inconvenient rock. 
 Soldiers in red coats flash like flambeaus at every turn, and every- 
 where sailors, blockade-runners, citizens, merchants and lascivious 
 
BERMUDA AND THE BLOCKADE. 897 
 
 mulatto women, congregate like people at a fair. The plaza or 
 open square is crowded with lazy negroes who have nothing to do ; 
 not far away, among the shipping, is a camp of black women, hud- 
 dled like gipsies around their pots and fires, engaged in cooking 
 for such as are hungry and not curious as to culinary secrets. Near 
 at hand is the market wharf, crowded with fishing boats, whose 
 sable proprietors skin huge fish with dexterous knives as easily as 
 one draws off his glove. These will always give good weight for 
 an extra price per pound. Trade is active in all the shops, and not 
 one but has some interest in the blockade. The beer and gin shops 
 drive a thriving business ; the clothing shops coin money; and in 
 the larger establishments huge piles of blockade goods fill every 
 nook and cranny. Every one has his hands full of business. Ships 
 cannot bring supplies fast enough. Shops are repeatedly emptied 
 and replenished. The large hotels cannot begin to accommodate all 
 who apply, even though the charges are exorbitant. Supplies of 
 coals constantly arrive for the blockade-runners, and many a swift 
 steamer that comes from England finds her most profitable venture 
 in the direction of a Confederate port. 
 
 Such was the aspect of things in the once lethargic, staid old 
 town of St. George's during the palmiest days of the blockade. 
 Who will say that the social benefits derived equalled the pecuniary 
 profits ? What old resident did not shudder at the corruption that 
 danced attendance upon a feverish trade. 
 
 As every project and every venture, in those days, looked toward 
 the Southern coast, of course the inhabitants were intensely " secesh." 
 More than one resident of the islands ran the blockade to fight the 
 battles of the South. The songs of " Dixie," and the " Bonny Blue 
 Flag," were everywhere heard. Even the negroes caught the infec- 
 tion, and sang how " Jeff. Davis is a gentleman, and Abe Lincoln is 
 a fool." Confederate papers were received almost semi-weekly. 
 Confederate flags were chalked upon the walls and gateways. 
 Pictures of prominent Southerners, and of Rebel cruisers, adorned 
 the photograph galleries. Almost every house had some memento 
 of the Confederacy. British goods were always in great demand 
 by the blockade runners, for they would have no dealings with 
 Yankees. Accordingly, in the shops could be found bushels of 
 Connecticut pins and cases of Massachusetts shoes marked " Lon- 
 don," elegant felt hats from New York labelled " Paris," and good 
 old Irish whiskey from New Jersey ; for there were many articles 
 that could be purchased cheaper in the United States than in 
 Europe, and the laws of trade are inflexible — " the longest pole 
 knocks down the most persimmons." And so quantities of these 
 goods found place in blockade cargoes, to the great profit of shrewd 
 speculators at the North. 
 
 In that period of promiscuous scrambling for wealth, it was a 
 
898 BERMUDA AND THE BLOCKADE. 
 
 relief to escape from this contaminating atmosphere of St. George's, 
 to shake the dust- from the feet, and fly at a spanking gait over the 
 hard lime road toward Hamilton. It is the regular mail route, and 
 a finer road is seldom seen. It is a luxury to drive over such a 
 road. The breeze almost always blows fresh from the ocean and 
 tempers the heat of the ardent sun. Elegant equijiages are en- 
 countered at frequent intervals (for they have fine carriages in Ber- 
 muda). The wheels fly around with a low, pleasant clatter as they 
 reel off the easy miles, and the horses step off over steep ascent 
 and level way alike, with a gait that never flags, 
 
 Seldom is found more varied or picturesque scenery than among 
 the islands of Bermuda. There are wooded dells as secluded as if 
 far remote from sea, where mangroves grow and the aroma of the 
 sage-bush perfumes the air. There are dark avenues of cedars, 
 whose dense foliage shuts out the sun. Here, on a rising knoll, an 
 aristocratic cottage peers out from among palmetto groves and 
 clustering banana and paw-paw. Hedges of oleander in luxuriant 
 bloom, grow high above the limestone walls that girt the road, and 
 through the vista we catch a glimpse of the blue ocean beyond. 
 Then an abrupt turn in the road leads to a narrow neck of land and 
 reveals an unobstructed view. On the right is the broad expanse 
 of ocean, with snowy sails penciled on the far horizon, and spark- 
 ling lines of foam that break over the coral reefs nearer shore ; on 
 the left, an archipelago of islets — some of them densely wooded — 
 with outlines sweeping gracefully into all conceivable curves, while 
 others are mere isolated hummocks of rocks where the surf never 
 ceases to thunder. Now we cross a substantial bridge that joins 
 two islands, and looking over the rail down into the deep green 
 water, twelve feet or more, can see the large fish sporting on the 
 bottom. Then there is a ferry to cross, and after that the road 
 skirts the rocky shore so closely that one can toss a pebble into the 
 emerald sea and hear the sough of the waves that moan and mur- 
 mur in the selfsame caves that Calaban knew of long ago. Here 
 are rocks chafed into every fantastic shape by the angry surges 
 which in storms dash far over the roadway. At intervals, pieces 
 of wreck are strewn — relics of fated ships lured to destruction by 
 the siren voice of sweet Bermuda, so peaceful when the sea is calm. 
 
 At intervals great water-tanks are cut into the rocky hill-side to 
 catch the rain ; for the Bermudians have no wells, and must pro- 
 vide against times of drought. Approaching Hamilton, the road 
 turns inland again, cut through the solid rock in many places, and 
 winding over hill and dale, through shady groves of cedar ; past 
 elegant mansions, half hidden by foliage, and protected from intru- 
 ders by massive walls, whose tops bristle with spikes or broken 
 glass laid in cement ; past little patches of arrowroot and sweet 
 potatoes; then through avenues of palmetto and China trees, that 
 
BERMUDA AND THE BLOCKADE. 899 
 
 lead up to a pretty chapel and its churchyard; and at last to the 
 coast again, where there are romantic little bays with houses 
 perched upon the very shore, ornamental gardens shut in by sea 
 walls, boat-houses, bathing-houses, and jaunty yachts at anchor. 
 
 All the buildings in Bermuda are built of limestone, for the whole 
 island is but a quarry, and when a carpenter wishes to build, he 
 takes his saw and saws himself a house from the material at hand. 
 The people are aristocratic, but hospitable ; the mansions elegant, 
 the gardens spacious and beautiful ; the shaded avenues and sub- 
 urban retreats afford many delightful drives. 
 
 At Somerset are fine farms and grazing-fields for the cattle that 
 are brought from New York and Nova Scotia for the Bermuda 
 market. At Ireland Island are spacious storehouses for the gar- 
 rison, an iron floating battery, several strong fortifications, and an 
 extensive quarry. Here also are some of the finest docks in the 
 world, all built by convict labor that extended through many years 
 of toils (for Bermuda was a penal colony once), and here are the 
 huge wooden hulks in which they were confined, still moored to 
 the quay. Some men-of-war ai*e always stationed here. 
 
 What more need be said in praise of Bermuda, or in descriptive 
 detail ? It is true that the flush times of the old blockading days 
 have passed away. The golden gains they then enjoyed were as 
 transitory as the so-called Southern Confederacy itself. The com- 
 mercial fabric upon which many hopes were built has crumbled. 
 The motley crowd of speculators and cormorants that thronged her 
 streets is dispersed forever. Her wharves no longer swarm with 
 shipping. Once more she has lapsed into the healthful quiet of her 
 former peaceful life. The little colony lives and moves in blissful 
 independence of the vexed questions that distract the world outside, 
 unmoved by the turmoil of political strife. Her Governor regularly 
 draws his ample salary, her legislators receive their stated pay for 
 settling the momentous affairs of the island, and the citizens are 
 happy in the possession of a sufficiency of the good things of this 
 life. Invalids still seek the genial atmosphere of her Winter 
 months, and hold their visits always in kindly remembrance. Happy 
 is Bermuda, no longer vexed with the fever of excitement that was 
 attendant on the blockade. 
 
ALWAYS LOVE. 
 
 BECAUSE Love's sigh is but a sigh, 
 Doth it the less Love's heart disclose ? 
 Because the rose must fade and die, 
 
 Is it the less the lovely rose ? 
 Because black night must shroud the day, 
 Shall the brave sun no more be gay ? 
 
 Because chill Autumn frights the birds, 
 Shall we distrust that Spring will come ? 
 
 Because sweet words are only words, 
 Shall Love for evermore be dumb ? 
 
 Because our bliss is fleeting bliss, 
 
 Shall we who love forbear to kiss ? 
 
 Because those eyes of gentle mirth 
 
 Must sometime cease my heart to thrill, 
 
 Because the sweetest voice on earth 
 Sooner or later must be still, 
 
 Because its idol is unsure, 
 
 Shall my strong love the less endure ? 
 
 Ah, no ! let lovers breathe their sighs, 
 
 And roses bloom, and music sound, 
 And passion burn on lips and eyes, 
 
 And Pleasure's merry world go round : 
 Let golden sunshine flood the sky, 
 And let me love, or let me die ! 
 
 William "Wintbe. 
 
Jill