What the precise position and duties of a Master’s Mate were in the old navy I am not able to say. Indeed, I don’t think I ever asked. In the Confederate Navy the Master’s Mate had the same duties and the same nominal rank as a Midshipman, and wore the same uniform. The only difference was the very essential one that the pay of the Master’s Mate was about $25 a month, while that of a Midshipman was about $40.

My worst troubles were now over. Captain Pegram told me that, as there was no special duty for me aboard, he would ask me to prepare, under his direction, his report of the voyage. This I did. It is worth remembering, too, that I had the pleasure of writing, in his name, a letter of thanks to Governor Pickens, of South Carolina, for the loan of the Blakeley guns which had constituted our armament. I remember that it was in this letter that Captain Pegram said that it was by means of these guns that the Nashville had been able to capture the Harvey Birch and the Robert Gilfillan, and had been able to show her teeth to the enemy. The last shot that we fired with these guns was at the blockaders as we ran into Beaufort. The shell fell short, but it was a sort of crow of defiance, and relieved our feelings somewhat.

I learned that the Nashville had been sold to a mercantile firm, and would be left at Morehead City in charge of two officers and three or four men, until the new owners should take possession of her. The rest of the crew were to be discharged, and the officers were to be sent to other posts of duty. I was ordered to report for duty to Commodore Forrest, at Norfolk, Va., to which point Captain Pegram was to go to take command of an iron-clad then building. To crown my satisfaction, Captain Pegram told me that he intended to make a visit to his family, in Sussex County, Virginia, and would be glad if I should accompany him, and remain with him until it was necessary to go to Norfolk.

On March 10, 1862, we bade good-bye to the Nashville. Shortly after our departure the enemy moved in force upon Newbern, and, to escape capture, Lieutenant Whittle and Midshipman Sinclair took the Nashville out to sea. They had but three or four men aboard, and were, I believe, without charts or chronometers. They ran down to Charleston, and being unable to get into that port, went to Savannah, where they succeeded in running the blockade. It was a daring feat most successfully accomplished, and reflected the highest credit on the officers and men. The Nashville lay in the Ogeechee river until 1863, when she was named the Rattlesnake, and was made ready for sea as one of the vessels of the Volunteer Navy then forming. But a Federal gunboat succeeded in setting her on fire with shells thrown across the marsh to the point where she lay, and she burned to the water’s edge and sank. This was the end of as fine a sea-boat as was ever built.

On taking the train to Goldsboro’ I found that the passport system was in full operation, and, as I was in civilian’s dress, the guard declined to allow me to pass. Captain Pegram, however, told the guard that he would “endorse” me, and I went on without molestation. Of course I made all manner of queer blunders. Everything was so strange. The nocturnal noise of the tree frogs caused me to tell Captain Pegram in the morning that it was the only country that I had ever been in where the birds sang all night. I had not then been kept awake, hour by hour, by the melodious warbling of the mocking bird.

It was a little after daylight when we reached Stony Creek, on the Petersburg and Weldon Railroad, where we were to leave the train. Taking a carriage after breakfast, we drove through the woods and plantations to the residence of Major Belsches, with whom Captain Pegram’s family were staying. Two or three miles before reaching it, we passed by a handsome residence in the midst of a large and well-ordered plantation, which I was told belonged to Mr. Nat. Raines, a wealthy planter, who was an old friend of Captain Pegram’s. At the house of Major Belsches we found Mrs. Pegram, her two daughters and her two younger sons. Every one was as kind as possible, and the time for our departure for Norfolk came far too soon. Before going there—indeed, the very day after our arrival—I was taken over to the residence of Mr. Raines, to be introduced to him and his family. He seemed to take quite a fancy to me, and in the course of a few hours I was on a friendly footing with the whole family. Nat. Raines, Jr., and Dr. B. F. Raines, the sons of Mr. Raines, were in the cavalry service, and, at this time, at home on furlough. Mrs. Raines was quiet, gentle and motherly, and her two daughters I found to be amiable and accomplished. One joke that Mr. Raines had was to tell me that he was fonder of smoking than I, and could out-smoke me. The tournament that followed resulted in my ignominious defeat. The weapons were Powhatan clay pipes with long reed stems, charged with tobacco grown on the plantation. Mr. Raines carried a supply of it usually in his coat pocket.