Staunton vindicator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1860-1896, 1888-05-11
A BLOCKADE RUNNER.

A BLOCKADE RUNNER.
One dark, rainy night in the summer OF
1868 the deck of the Emily st. Pierre, rakish
looking sailing vessel, anchored of. one of the
largest wharves in Charleston, was the scene
Of unusual commotion. She was heavily
loaded with cotton, and her cargo, valued at
100000, was consigned to Trenholm, Fraser
& Co., Liverpool, England, the largest cotton
firm in the world. Her sails were being I'M
furled, and as they caught the wind that
blew half gale the swaying of the vessel i'm
peded somewhat the rapid movements of the
crew as they hurried along the slippery deck
in evident preparation for journey. The
steward, a burly negro, who had been born a
slave in the family of Mr.. Trenholm, was the
only one who took things leisurely. Finding
the sailors too busy to listen to him, he stood
peering into the darkness, whence shone, far
in the distance, the lights of Fort Sumter,
and, further still, a faint glimmer on the in
definable horizon, which he knew came from
one or more men-of-war that were on the
watch for chance blockade vessel.
This negro steward knew every inch Of the
harbor as well as he knew the deck on which
he stood. The soughing of the wind, and
driving gusts of rain, together with the in
tense darkness of the night, seemed to impress
him unfavorably and awaken some of his
innate superstition. He muttered to himself
as sudden rush of wind struck the bellying
sails:
81 dom like dis. De SCUM dat wind brings
from de pine barrens is like de moanin' Of a
To- ....3 T.. i IL Jox,
Mas'r an me sent our cotton outen dis port
in broad daylight. Now we sneaks out wild
de whitest an de finest dat grows on de Sea
Islands jes' like we had been er stealin' some
body's chickens No flag afyin', no sunshine
on de deck, no wavin' of the bandanas on de
wharf, but jes' so-in de dark, sly like er fox,
an dodgin' dem forts an gunboats like we
couldn't no longer hole our heads up big an
high as enybody. I'll give Mas'r talk on
dis subject if Cord spars me to come back,
an, jes' es shore es my name is John Cal
houn, dis is my las trip under sech circum-
stances"
While Calhoun soliloquized, two men were
talking earnestly on the wharf. One was
George A. Trenholm, the head of the firm,
and at that time secretary of the treasury of
the Southern Confederacy. The other was
known as Capt. Wilson, the commander of
the Emily St. Pierre. He was called Capt.
Wilson because he did not choose to use the
name of an ancient and noble house that had
borne the feur de lis on its azure shield in the
days of Bourbon supremacy in his native
France. The Emily st. Pierre had been
named for the beautiful daughter of Mr.. Tren-
holm, who, though mere girl, stood in the
window of the main office of the cotton ware
house, looking out on the scene before her.
At her side stood boy of about 10 years,
who was also ready and eager for journey.
In few minutes Mr.. Trenholm returned
with his daughter and was driven to his
home in Charleston.
Every sail on the Emily st. Pierre was
stretched to its utmost tension, and as the
anchor chain ratified over her sides she
sailed away. By sunrise she had safely
passed the gunboats and Calhoun's uneasi-
ness would have entirely disappeared if the
sunbeams of the morning had fallen on the
familiar flag he had been accustomed to in
ode ole days" instead of the Union Jack that
was unfurled to the breeze as she sped over
an open sea.
A few days afterward, however, two large
Federal men-of-war saw and signaled the
suspicious looking ship. With sails spread
she gave them long, hard race, but as they
gained on her and brought their heavy ord
nance to bear directly on her sides, she
paused and surrendered. An attempt at a
fight with such odds against him would have
been suicidal. Capt Wilson received the
officers who boarded the blockade runner
with all the courtesy of a man who welcomes
his honored guests. A brief investigation
showed them the nature and mission of the
captured ship. The spurious Union Jack
was hauled down and the Stars and Stripes
soon took its place. The crew were made
prisoners of war, and transferred to one of
the conquering ships. The dauntless Capt
Wilson, whose self possession never left him,
suggested he should be allowed to remain
with his men on board the Emily st. Pierre,
as she was an old boat with peculiar
machinery, and carried a cargo that was
just then especially valuable. To this request
the officers assented. They also agreed to
retain the negro steward, who expressed an
earnest wish to stay. The new crew was
composed of eight experienced sailors besides
the two naval officers who were to take the
blockade runner to New York in the wake of
one of the men-of-war.
A friendship soon sprung up between the
officers and the suave captain. They found
the Frenchman was master of navigation, a
charming conversational, and was of in
valuable assistance to them in managing the
queer craft on which they sailed Every
evening Capt. Wilson amused them with
wild adventures he had experienced in his
journeys of the past few years, end made
himself so useful and agreeable that the
young officers got into the habit of treating
him more as brother officer than as pris-
oner of war. They even sent him below to
order the sailors to do certain work on the
ship on several occasions. The captains
pretty boy became quite pet with all the
crew, and both father and son seemed to re-
turn with great heartiness the evident favor
with which they were regarded. Capt. VIII
son spent a part OF every day on the deck
with his son, for whose amusement he whit
tied all sorts of odd playthings from pieces
of wood The officers would sometimes
pause and laugh at the comical jumping
Jacks and other toys their ingenious and
versatile prisoner had carved with his
pocket knife for the bright child, to whom
he seemed devotedly attached. Capt. Will
son whitfield these playthings every day with
remarkable persistency, and the child seemed
to develop an unusual fondness for them.
In the presence of the officers he would
tease his father to come with him on deck
and make toys.
One day as he was thus engaged he asked the
boy: "Leo, if the occasion required it, could
you face great danger without shrinking,
that you and I might succeed in a difficult
undertakings
The child's laughing face grew serious in
an instant as he answered, "Try me. can
shoot pistol with as steady hand as you
can, and have known" he added in whis-
per, though no one was near them, "what
you have been working on while you pre-
tended to be making my toys. am no baby,
as you know, papa, to care for such play
things, but saw you wanted to make those
odd little things you have in your pocket"
The man looked at the child in astonishment
for one moment, and then, drawing him to
his arms, kissed him again and again. The
officer who came near at that moment turned
away and sighed as he thought of the proba-
BILE fate of the father, when he should be de-
lived to the authorities and held to account
for the contraband business he had pursued
with such notorious daring that he could not
hope for much mercy. He CONSIDERABLY left
them together longer than usual, and went
INTO BIZ cabin tQ calculate bow @Rch lQpger