he voyage to Liverpool via Bermuda. We still
lingered for later intelligence which was brought by the mail steamer
Corsica from New York. Charleston was evacuated on the 17th of February,
and Fort Anderson, the last of the defences at Wilmington, fell on the
19th. General Johnston had assumed command of the broken remnant of the
army of the Tennessee in North Carolina, and subsequently offered some
resistance to the hitherto unimpeded march of General Sherman; but the
latter was now about to effect a junction with General Schofield, who
commanded a large force which had landed at Wilmington. It was too
evident that the end was near. The speculators in Nassau saw that "the
bottom had fallen out," and all of them were in the depths of despair.
Some of them, it is true, had risen from the desperately hazardous game
with large gains, but the majority had staked their all and lost it; and
even the fortunate ones had contracted a thirst for rash ventures, which
eventually led to the pecuniary and social ruin of some of them. Even
the negro stevedores and laborers bewailed our misfortunes, for they
knew that the glory of Nassau had departed forever. My old friend
Captain Dick Watkins probably more unselfishly regretted the disasters
to our arms than the speculators or even the refugees in Nassau, who had
succeeded in evading service in the army by skulking abroad. A
recruiting officer might have "conscripted" nearly a brigade of the
swaggering blusterers. Captain Dick and I parted with mutual regret; and
I sincerely hope, if Providence has been pleased to remove the old
fellow's helpmeet to a better sphere, that he has found consolation in a
virtuous union with one of those "mighty pretty yaller gals" he so much
admired; and that Napoleon Bonaparte may rise to the highest dignities
in that particolored community of spongers and "wrackers."

We sailed from Nassau on the 22d of March and arrived at St. George's,
Bermuda on the 26th. The harbor was deserted, and the town, in its
listless inactivity, presented a striking contrast with its late stir
and bustle. "'Twas Greece, but living Greece no more." After coaling, we
took our departure for Liverpool on the 26th of March, and arrived there
on the 9th of April. It was Palm Sunday, and the chimes were ringing
sweetly from the church bells, as we came to anchor.

The contrast between this happy, peaceful, prosperous country and our
own desolated, war-distracted land, struck a chill