morning, I
left by railroad for Galveston. General Scurry insisted upon sending his
servant to wait upon me, in order that I might become acquainted with
"an aristocratic negro." "John" was a very smart fellow, and at first
sight nearly as white as myself.

In the cars I was introduced to General Samuel Houston, the founder of
Texan independence. He told me he was born in Virginia seventy years
ago, that he was United States senator at thirty, and governor of
Tennessee at thirty-six. He emigrated into Texas in 1832; headed the
revolt of Texas, and defeated the Mexicans at San Jacinto in 1836. He
then became President of the Republic of Texas, which he annexed to the
United States in 1845. As Governor of the State in 1860, he had opposed
the secession movement, and was _deposed_. Though evidently a remarkable
and clever man, he is extremely egotistical and vain, and much
disappointed at having to subside from his former grandeur. The town of
Houston is named after him. In appearance he is a tall, handsome old
man, much given to chewing tobacco, and blowing his nose with his
fingers.[14]

I was also introduced to another "character," Captain Chubb, who told me
he was a Yankee by birth, and served as coxswain to the United States
ship Java in 1827. He was afterwards imprisoned at Boston on suspicion
of being engaged in the slave trade; but he escaped. At the beginning of
this war he was captured by the Yankees, when he was in command of the
Confederate States steamer Royal Yacht, and taken to New York in chains,
where he was condemned to be hung as a pirate; but he was eventually
exchanged. I was afterwards told that the slave-trading escapade of
which he was accused consisted in his having hired a coloured crew at
Boston, and then coolly _selling_ them at Galveston.

At 1 P.M., we arrived at Virginia Point, a _tete-de-pont_ at the
extremity of the main land. Here Bates's battalion was encamped--called
also the "swamp angels," on account of the marshy nature of their
quarters, and of their predatory and irregular habits.

The railroad then traverses a shallow lagoon (called Galveston Bay) on a
trestle-bridge two miles long; this leads to another _tete-de-pont_ on
Galveston island, and in a few minutes the city is reached.

In the train I had received the following message by telegraph from
Colonel Debray, who commands at Galveston:--"Will Col. Fremantle sleep
to-night at the house of a blockaded rebel?" I answered:--