small ship, with a crew, all told, of a little over a hundred men, anchored only ten, or twelve miles from the enemy, without a gun, or an obstruction between her and him; and yet no offensive movement was made against her. The enemy watched me closely, day by day, and bent all his energies toward preventing my escape, but did not seem to think of the simple expedient of endeavoring to capture me, with a superior force. In nightly expectation of an assault, I directed the engineer to keep the water in his boilers, as near the steam-point as possible, without actually generating the vapor, and sent a patrol of boats some distance down the Southwest Pass; the boats being relieved every four hours, and returning to the ship, at the first streaks of dawn. After I went to sea, the enemy did come in, and take possession of my anchorage, until he was driven away by Commodore Hollins, in a little nondescript ram; which, by the way, was the first ram experiment of the war. The reader may imagine the tedium, and discomforts of our position, if he will reflect that it is the month of June, and that at this season of the year, the sun comes down upon the broad, and frequently calm surface of the Father of Waters, with an African glow, and that clouds of that troublesome little insect the mosquito tormented us, by night and by day. There was no sleeping at all without the mosquito bar, and I had accordingly had a supply sent down for all the crew. Rather than stand the assaults of these little picadores, much longer, I believe my crew would have run the gantlet of the whole Federal Navy.

My diary will now perhaps give the reader, his clearest conception of the condition of things on board the Sumter, for the remaining few days that she is to continue at her anchors.

Tuesday, June 25th.- A sharp thunder-storm at half-past three A. M., jarring and shaking the ship with its crashes. The very flood-gates of the heavens seem open, and the rain is descending on our decks like a cataract. Clearing toward ten o'clock. Both blockading ships still at their anchors. The British steam sloop Jason touched at the Southwest Pass, yesterday, and communicated with the Powhatan. We learn by the newspapers, to-day, that the enemy has taken possession of Ship Island, and established a blockade of the Sound. The ana

conda is drawing his folds around us. We are filling some shell, and cartridges to-day, and drilling the crew at the battery.

Wednesday, June 26th.-Cloudy, with occasional rain squalls, which have tempered the excessive heats. The Ivy returned from the city to-day, and brought me eighty barrels of coal. Sent the pilot, in the light-house keeper's boat, to sound the S. E. bar, an unused and unwatched outlet to the eastward of the South Pass-in the hope that we may find sufficient water over it, to permit the egress of the ship. The Federal ships are keeping close watch, as usual, at both the passes, neither of them having stirred from her anchor, since we have been at the "Head of the Passes."

Thursday, June 27th.-Weather sultry, and atmosphere charged with moisture. Pilot returned this afternoon, and reports ten and a half feet water on the S. E. bar. Unfortunately the Sumter draws twelve feet; so we must abandon this hope.

Saturday, June 29th.-A mistake induced us to expend a little coal, to-day, uselessly. The pilot having gone aloft, to take his usual morning's survey of the "situation," reported that the Brooklyn was nowhere to be seen! Groat excitement immediately ensued, on the decks, and the officer of the watch hur ried into my cabin with the information. I ordered steam to be gotten up with all dispatch, and when, in the course of a very few minutes, it was reported ready-for we always kept our fires banked-the anchor was tripped, and the ship was under way, ploughing her way through the turbid waters, toward Pass à L'Outre. When we had steamed about four miles down the pass, the Brooklyn was seen riding very quietly at her anchors, in her usual berth near the bar. Explanation: The Sumter had dragged her anchor during the night, and the alteration in her position had brought a clump of trees between her, and the enemy's ship, which had prevented the pilot from seeing the latter! With disappointed hopes we had nothing to do, but to return to our anchors, and watch and wait. In half an hour more, the sailors were lounging idly about the decks, under well-spread awnings; the jest, and banter went round, as usual, and save the low hissing and singing of the

steam, which was still escaping, there was nothing to remind the beholder of our recent disappointment. Such is the school of philosophy in which the seaman is reared. Our patience, however, was soon to be rewarded.

Early on the next morning, which was the 30th of June, the steamer, Empire Parish, came down from the city, and coming alongside of us, put on board some fresh provisions for the crew, and about one hundred barrels of coal, which my thoughtful, and attentive friend, Commodore Rousseau, had sent down to me. Having done this, the steamer shoved off, and proceeded on her trip, down Pass à L'Outre, to the pilots' station, and lighthouse. It was a bright Sunday morning, and we were thinking of nothing but the usual muster, and how we should get through another idle day. In the course of two or three hours, the steamer returned, and when she had come near us, she was seen to cast off a boat, which she had been towing, containing a single boatman-one of the fishermen, or oystermen so common in these waters. The boatman pulled rapidly under our stern, and hailing the officer of the deck, told him, that the Brooklyn had gone off in chase of a sail, and was no longer in sight. The crew, who had been "cleaning themselves," for Sunday muster, at once stowed away their bags; the swinging-booms were gotten alongside, the boats run up, and, in ten minutes, the steam was again hissing, as if impatient of control. The men ran round the capstan, in "doublequick," in their eagerness to get up the anchor, and in a few minutes more, the ship's head swung off gracefully with the current, and, the propeller being started, she bounded off like a thing of life, on this new race, which was to decide whether we should continue to stagnate in midsummer, in the marshes of the Mississippi, or reach those "glad waters of the dark blue sea," which form as delightful a picture in the imagination of the sailor, as in that of the poet.

Whilst we were heaving up our anchor, I had noticed the pilot, standing near me, pale, and apparently nervous, and agitated, but, as yet, he had said not a word. When we were fairly under way, however, and it seemed probable, at last, that we should attempt the blockade, the fellow's courage fairly broke down, and he protested to me that he knew nothing of

"

the bar of Pass à L'Outre, and durst not attempt to run me over. "I am," said he, "a S. W. bar pilot, and know nothing of the other passes." What," said I, "did you not know that I was lying at the Head of the Passes, for the very purpose of taking any one of the outlets through which an opportunity of escape might present itself, and yet you dare tell me, that you know but one of them, and have been deceiving me." The fellow stammered out something in excuse, but I was too impatient to listen to him, and, turning to the first lieutenant, ordered him to hoist the "Jack" at the fore, as a signal for a pilot. I had, in fact, resolved to attempt the passage of the bar, from my own slight acquaintance with it, when I had been a light-house inspector, rather than forego the opportunity of escape, and caused the Jack to be hoisted, rather as a matter of course, than because I hoped for any good result from it. The Brooklyn had not "chased out of sight," as reported-she had only chased to the westward, some seven or eight miles, and had been hidden from the boatman, by one of the spurs of the Delta. She had probably, all the while, had her telescopes on the Sumter, and as soon as she saw the black smoke issuing from her chimney, and the ship moving rapidly toward the pass, she abandoned her chase, and commenced to retrace her steps.

We had nearly equal distances to run to the bar, but I had the advantage of a four-knot current. Several of my officers now collected around me, and we were discussing the chances of escape. "What think you of our prospect," said I, turning to one of my lieutenants, who had served a short time before, on board the Brooklyn, and knew well her qualities. "Prospect, sir! not the least in the world- there is no possible chance of our escaping that ship. Even if we get over the bar ahead of her, she must overhaul us, in a very short time. The Brooklyn is good for fourteen knots an hour, sir." "That was the report," said I, "on her trial trip, but you know how all such reports are exaggerated; ten to one, she has no better speed, if so good, as the Sumter." "You will see, sir," replied my lieutenant; "we made a passage in her, only a few months ago, from Tampico to Pensacola, and averaged about thirteen knots the whole distance."

Here the conversation dropped, for an officer now came to report to me that a boat had just shoved off from the pilots' station, evidently with a pilot in her. Casting my eyes in the given direction, I saw a whale-boat approaching us, pulled by four stout blacks, who were bending like good fellows to their long ashen oars, and in the stern sheets was seated, sure enough, the welcome pilot, swaying his body to, and fro, as his boat leaped under the oft-repeated strokes of the oars, as though he would hasten her already great speed. But more beautiful still was another object which presented itself. In the balcony of the pilot's house, which had been built in the very marsh, on the margin of the river, there stood a beautiful woman, the pilot's young wife, waving him on to his duty, with her handkerchief. We could have tossed a biscuit from the Sumter to the shore, and I uncovered my head gallantly to my fair country woman. A few moments more, and a tow-line had been thrown to the boat, and the gallant young fellow stood on the horse-block beside me.

As we swept past the light-house wharf, almost close enough to touch it, there were other petticoats fluttering in the breeze, the owners of which were also waving handkerchiefs of encouragement to the Sumter. I could see my sailors' eyes brighten at these spectacles, for the sailor's heart is capacious enough to love the whole sex, and I now felt sure of their nerves, in case it should become necessary to tax them. Half a mile or so, from the light-house, and the bar is reached. There was a Bremen ship lying aground on the bar, and there was just room, and no more, for us to pass her. She had run out a kedge, and had a warp attached to it that was lying across the passage-way. The crew considerately slackened the line, as we approached, and in another bound the Sumter was outside the bar, and the Confederate flag was upon the high seas! We now slackened our speed, for an instant- only an instant, for my officers and men all had their wits about them, and worked like good fellows-to haul the pilot's boat alongside, that he might return to the shore. As the gallant young fellow grasped my hand, and shook it warmly, as he descended from the horse-block, he said, "Now, Captain, you are all clear; give her h-ll, and let her go!"

We had now nothing to do, but turn our attention to the