s
needed in that swift and crooked stream; the exposed pilot-houses had
been tolerably barricaded with the thick planks from St. Simon's; and we
further obtained some sand-bags from Fort Clinch, through the aid of
Captain Sears, the officer in charge, who had originally suggested the
expedition after brick. In return for this aid, the Planter was sent
back to the wharf at St. Mary's, to bring away a considerable supply of
the same precious article, which we had observed near the wharf.
Meanwhile the John Adams was coaling from naval supplies, through the
kindness of Lieutenant Hughes; and the Ben De Ford was taking in the
lumber which we had yesterday brought down. It was a great
disappointment to be unable to take the latter vessel up the river; but
I was unwillingly convinced, that, though the depth of water might be
sufficient, yet her length would be unmanageable in the swift current
and sharp turns. The Planter must also be sent on a separate cruise, as
her weak and disabled machinery made her useless for my purpose. Two
hundred men were therefore transferred, as before, to the narrow hold of
the John Adams, in addition to the company permanently stationed on
board to work the guns. At seven o'clock on the evening of January 29th,
beneath a lovely moon, we steamed up the river.

Never shall I forget the mystery and excitement of that night. I know
nothing in life more fascinating than the nocturnal ascent of an unknown
river, leading far into an enemy's country, where one glides in the dim
moonlight between dark hills and meadows, each turn of the channel
making it seem like an inland lake, and cutting you off as by a barrier
from all behind,--with no sign of human life, but an occasional
picket-fire left glimmering beneath the bank, or the yelp of a dog from
some low-lying plantation. On such occasions, every nerve is strained to
its utmost tension; all dreams of romance appear to promise immediate
fulfilment; all lights on board the vessel are obscured, loud voices are
hushed; you fancy a thousand men on shore, and yet see nothing; the
lonely river, unaccustomed to furrowing keels, lapses by the vessel with
a treacherous sound; and all the senses are merged in a sort of anxious
trance. Three times I have had in full perfection this fascinating
experience; but that night was the first, and its zest was the keenest.
It will come back to me in dreams, if I live a thousand years.

I feared no attack during our ascen