We now made sail for the West India Islands, designing, after a short cruise among them, to run into the French island of Martinique, and coal. We still kept along on the beaten track of homeward-bound ships, but with little expectation of making any prizes, and for some days overhauled none but neutral ships. Many of these had cargoes for the United States, but not having the same motive to avoid me, that the enemy's ships had, they were content to travel the usual highway. Although many of them had enemy's property, on board, they were perfectly safe from molestation--the Confederate States' Government having adopted, as the reader has seen, in its Act declaring, that, by the conduct of the enemy, a state of war existed, the liberal principle, that "Free ships make free goods."
Among the neutrals overhauled by us, was an English brig called the _Spartan_, from Rio Janeiro, for St. Thomas, in the West Indies. We had an exciting chase after this fellow. We pursued him, under United States colors, and as the wind was blowing fresh, and the chase was a "stern-chase," it proved, as usual, to be a long one, although the _Sumter_ was doing her best, under both steam and sail. John Bull evidently mistook us for the Yankee we pretended to be, and seemed determined to prevent us from overhauling him, if possible. His brig, as we soon discovered, had light heels, and he made the best possible use of them, by giving her every inch of canvas he could spread. Still, we gained on him, and as we came sufficiently near, we gave him a blank cartridge, to make him show his colors, and heave to. He showed his colors--the English red--but refused to heave to. The unprofessional reader may be informed, that when a merchant-ship is under full sail, and especially when she is running before a fresh breeze, as the _Spartan_ was, it puts her to no little inconvenience, to come to the wind. She has to take in her sails, one by one, owing to her being short-handed, and "the clewing up," and "hauling down" occupy some minutes. The captain of the Spartan was loth to subject himself to this inconvenience, especially at the command of the hated Yankee. Coming up a little nearer, we now fired a shotted gun at him, taking care not to strike him, but throwing the shot so near as to give him the benefit of its rather ominous music, as it whistled past. As soon as the smoke from the gun, which obscured him for a moment, rolled away before the breeze, we could see him starting his "sheets," and "halliards," and pretty soon the saucy little _Spartan_ rounded to, with her main top-sail to the mast. The reader may be curious to know, why I had been so persistent in heaving to a neutral. The answer is, that I was not sure she was neutral. The jaunty little brig looked rather more American, than English, in all but the flag that was flying at her peak. She had not only the grace and beauty of hull that characterize our American-built ships, but the long, tapering spars on which American ship-masters especially pride themselves. She did, indeed, prove to be American, in a certain sense, as we found her to hail from Halifax, in Nova Scotia. The master of the _Spartan_ was in an ill-humor when my boarding-officer jumped on board of him. It was difficult to extract a civil answer from him. "What is the news?" said the boarding-officer. "Capital news!" replied the master; "you Yankees are getting whipped like h--ll; you beat the Derby boys at the Manassas races." "But what's the news from Rio?" now inquired the supposed Yankee boarding-officer. "Well, there's good news from that quarter too--all the Yankee ships are laid up, for want of freights." "You are rather hard upon us, my friend," now rejoined the boarding-officer; "why should you take such an interest in the Confederate cause?" "Simply, because there is a little man fighting against an overgrown bully, and I like pluck."