At 8 a.m. of the 29th we left Cape True, and at 6 p.m arrived at French Head. As we passed "French Head," where poor John Brown had met his death a little over three months previous, we had a look at the spot. Lo! there were his remains just as we had left them, except that the foxes or bears had eaten part of his skin clothing. His corpse was untouched! As for the monument we had erected over him, that had melted away, and soon the ice beneath his body would melt away also, and lower him into his ocean grave.
The journey back to the ship was very difficult. In many places pools of water and broken ice led to the apprehension that no passage would be found; and nearly the whole way we had to walk almost knee-deep through slush and water covering the sea-ice. But at length, about midnight, we arrived on board, and soon threw ourselves down to rest, after a most fatiguing journey of sixteen hours.
Four days later was the Fourth of July, and the following extract from my diary will show how it was celebrated among us:—
"Thursday, July 4th, 1861.—Eighty-five years ago to-day was made the Declaration of American Independence. Here, amid mountains robed in snow—on a sea covered with thick-ribbed ice—among a people free as God's own children can be, we celebrate the birthday of our freedom. The iron free sons of the North have joined us in making the welkin ring with our cheers and steel-throated welcomes of this memorable day.
"Soon after nine last night, all turned in, agreeing to be on deck a few minutes before twelve midnight. Sleep stole so heavily upon us, that it was 1 o'clock a.m. when Morgan came to my berth and called me. A few moments sufficed to find a company, armed and equipped as the law (the George Henry's) directs, ready for action. Some of the company were, as they eaped from their blankets, in stocking-feet and drawers. Nevertheless, they had willing hands and patriotic hearts, wide mouths and deep-toned throats, therefore they 'passed muster,' The signal was given by me, and in voices of thunder
