ilent. Not so the old
ladies, when I announced to them my purpose, and added, with extreme
regret, that, as the wind was high, I should burn only that half of the
town which lay to leeward of their house, which did not, after all,
amount to much. Between gratitude for this degree of mercy and imploring
appeals for greater, the treacherous old ladies manoeuvred with
clasped hands and demonstrative handkerchiefs around me, impairing the
effect of their eloquence by constantly addressing me as "Mr. Captain";
for I have observed, that, while the sternest officer is greatly
propitiated by attributing to him a rank a little higher than his own,
yet no one is ever mollified by an error in the opposite direction. I
tried, however, to disregard such low considerations, and to strike the
correct mean betwixt the sublime patriot and the unsanctified
incendiary, while I could find no refuge from weak contrition save in
greater and greater depths of courtesy; and so melodramatic became our
interview that some of the soldiers still maintain that "dem dar ole
Secesh women been a-gwine for kiss de Cunnel," before we ended. But of
this monstrous accusation I wish to register an explicit denial, once
for all.

Dropping down to Fernandina unmolested after this affair, we were kindly
received by the military and naval commanders,--Colonel Hawley, of the
Seventh Connecticut, (now Brigadier-General Hawley,) and
Lieutenant-Commander Hughes, U. S. N., of the gunboat Mohawk. It turned
out very opportunely that both of these officers had special errands to
suggest still farther up the St. Mary's, and precisely in the region
where I wished to go. Colonel Hawley showed me a letter from the War
Department, requesting him to ascertain the possibility of obtaining a
supply of brick for Fort Clinch from the brickyard which had furnished
the original materials, but which had not been visited since the
perilous river-trip of the Ottawa. Lieutenant Hughes wished to obtain
information for the Admiral respecting a Rebel steamer--the Berosa--said
to be lying somewhere up the river, and awaiting her chance to run the
blockade. I jumped at the opportunity. Berosa and brickyard,--both were
near Woodstock, the former home of Corporal Sutton; he was ready and
eager to pilot us up the river; the moon would be just right that
evening, setting at 3h. 19m. A. M.; and our boat was precisely the one
to undertake the expedition. Its double-headed shape was just what wa