I was busy making arrangements to get to Pensacola, and Fort
Pickens, all day. The land journey was represented as being most tedious and
exceedingly comfortless in all respects, through a waste of sand, in which we
ran the chance of being smothered or lost. And then I had set my mind on seeing
Fort Pickens as well as Pensacola, and it would be difficult, to say the least
of it, to get across from an enemy's camp to the Federal fortress, and then
return again. The United States squadron blockaded the port of Pensacola, but I
thought it likely they would permit me to run in to visit Fort Pickens, and
that the Federals would allow me to sail thence across to General Bragg, as
they might be assured I would not communicate any information of what I had
seen in my character as neutral to any but the journal in Europe, which I
represented, and in the interests of which I was bound to see and report all
that I could as to the state of both parties. It was, at all events, worth
while to make the attempt, and after a long search I heard of a schooner which
was ready for the voyage at a reasonable rate, all things considered.
Mr. Forsyth asked, if I had any objection to take with me
three gentlemen of Mobile, who were anxious to be of the party, as they wanted
to see their friends at Pensacola, where it was believed a “fight” was to come
off immediately. Since I came South I have seen the daily announcement that “Braxton
Bragg is ready,” and his present state of preparation must be beyond all
conception. But here was a difficulty. I told Mr. Forsyth that I could not
possibly assent to any persons coming with me who were not neutrals, or
prepared to adhere to the obligations of neutrals. There was a suggestion that
I should say these gentlemen were my friends, but as I had only seen two of
them on board the steamer yesterday, I could not accede to that idea. “Then if
you are asked if Mr. Ravesies is your friend, you will say he is not.”
“Certainly.” “But surely you don't wish to have Mr. Ravesies hanged?” “No, I do
not, and I shall do nothing to cause him to be hanged; but if he meets that
fate by his own act, I can't help it. I will not allow him to accompany me
under false pretences.”
At last it was agreed that Mr. Ravesies and his friends, Mr.
Bartre and Mr. Lynes, being in no way employed by or connected with the
Confederate Government, should have a place in the little schooner which we had
picked out at the quayside and hired for the occasion, and go on the voyage
with the plain understanding that they were to accept all the consequences of
being citizens of Mobile.
Mr. Forsyth, Mr. Ravesies, and a couple of gentlemen dined
with me in the evening. After dinner., Mr. Forsyth, who, as mayor of the town,
is the Executive of the Vigilance Committee, took a copy of “Harper's
Illustrated Paper,” which is a very poor imitation of the “London Illustrated
News,” and called my attention to the announcement that Mr. Moses, their
special artist, was travelling with me in the South, as well as to an
engraving, which purported to be by Moses aforesaid. I could only say that I
knew nothing of the young designer, except what he told me, and that he led me
to believe he was furnishing sketches to the “London News.” As he was in the
hotel, though he did not live with me, I sent for him, and the young gentleman,
who was very pale and agitated on being shown the advertisement and sketch,
declared that he had renounced all connection with Harper, that he was
sketching for the “Illustrated London News,” and that the advertisement was
contrary to fact, and utterly unknown to him; and so he was let go forth, and
retired uneasily. After dinner I went to the Bienville Club. “Rule No. 1” is,
“No gentleman shall be admitted in a state of intoxication.” The club very
social, very small, and very hospitable.
Later paid my respects to Mrs. Forsyth, whom I found
anxiously waiting for news of her young son, who had gone off to join the
Confederate Army. She told me that nearly all the ladies in Mobile are engaged
in making cartridges, and in preparing lint or clothing for the army. Not the
smallest fear is entertained for the swarming black population.
SOURCE: William Howard Russell, My Diary North and
South, p. 197-8
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