ief stay at
the splendid fortress, with its powerful armament, where, a few weeks
later, Jefferson Davis was brought and confined as a prisoner of war.
We could plainly discern "the Rip Raps" and Sewall's Point, and the
locality was pointed out "in the Roads," where the little Monitor
defeated the Merrimac, in 1862, and saved the Union fleet. The story
of this famous battle, and the revolution it produced in naval
warfare, has been graphically recited by Comrade F.B. Butts.

But the sad intelligence from the Capital had crushed the desire for
sight-seeing, and all seemed anxious to get home with the least
possible delay. After taking a supply of coal and water, and landing
four or five blockade-runners who had secreted themselves in our
coal-bunkers at Charleston, we were again "homeward bound."

Wednesday morning found us well on our voyage to New York, with
continued pleasant weather. At half-past ten, the Sumter Club, which
had been organized, held a meeting, and the rebel flag of Fort
Moultrie was formally presented to the Club. It was voted to procure a
suitable gold badge, with Fort Sumter engraved upon it, for each
member. It was further voted that every passenger who sailed from New
York for Charleston on the "Oceanus" should be entitled to membership.

Appropriate services were held on board at eleven o'clock, the hour at
which the funeral obsequies of the President were being solemnized in
Washington.

At three o'clock we were opposite Coney Island, and entering the
Narrows. After a short detention at quarantine, we rapidly passed the
light-houses and forts and the fleet of shipping, moving and at anchor
about the great metropolis, and drew into the dock at the foot of
Robinson street as the city bells struck five. Hasty farewells were
exchanged with friends on board, mingled with greetings from friends
on shore. Making my way with difficulty through the crowds of people
and among teams, drays and carriages, I at length emerged into the
streets of New York.

But what a change! The city was in mourning! Ten days before, every
highway and avenue had been resplendent with flags and streamers; and
a whole city had celebrated with joy and thanksgiving the return of
peace and the triumph of loyalty over armed rebellion. We had sailed
to the metropolis of the south, the Cradle of the Rebellion, and found
it a city in ruins. There, where the national ensign had been first
dishonored, we had seen it uplifted and