vices on board that ship to-day ;" and, on my return to the Cumberland, found the good pile of communications awaiting me. And then, it was on the 29th of March, a day that has for me associations, which made the perusal of my letters, coincident in their reception, on that day, yet more feeling, as I read their contents, and learned that my cherub boy was well, and happy in his glee, unconscious of sorrow, while he has yet to learn his loss on earth, unless, in the guiding providence of the Eternal, his angel-mother, in heaven, may yet influence his steps on earth for his greater happiness, though all unconscious now, that his is a motherless infancy. God be praised, that he is well, my cherished boy.

A MOVEMENT OF THE SHIPS.

The FLAG SHIP of a squadron is always regarded as holding the most favorable position in a fleet, both for information and convenience. She is the Commodore's ship. From her all orders issue. To her all communications are made; and she is deemed the centre of all the news that reaches the station, or which is conveyed from it. It is from the Flag Ship that all signals are made, by which all the vessels of the squadron direct their actions. And when lying at anchor, and within signal distance, even to the loosing and the furling of sails; sending up and sending down yards; general quarters for exercising the men at the guns; and, in fine, every evolution throughout the fleet, is directed by signals from the Flag Ship; and in the omission of signals the motions of the Flag Ship are to be followed by all the other ships of the squadron. This, of necessity, requires a continued look-out on the part of all the vessels in the fleet; and, of consequence, there are many glasses pointed continually, by day and by night, towards the FLAG SHIP.

It is often the policy of the Commodore, who is the Commander-in-chief, to preserve the strictest silence and secrecy as to any intended movement of the ships; and a signal, at any moment, may be made "to prepare for sailing," without a person, save himself, knowing the destination of the squadron-those on board the Flag Ship being as ignorant of the Commodore's intentions as any other officers of the squadron, though the wise ones, if any where, are expected to be found on board the ship of the Commander-in-chief.

Thus lay our squadron on the 18th of April-the Saint Mary's having been sent with despatches to Pensacola, with instructions soon to return and bear us the letters that may have accumulated there for our squadron. A land breeze was setting off the shore sufficient to fill the canvas of any vessel which chose to gain an offing and take her course northward. But the different ships at the anchorage lay at their moorings, as if they would sleep there for ever, so quiet were they in their rest and unconcern as to all expectation of soon lifting their anchors. A few pieces of different colored bunting, however, each one standing for a number, were seen to be run up to the mizzenmast-head of the Cumberland. That death-sleep, that seems so entirely to have settled on a man-of-war, as she is usually viewed in the distance at her moorings, of a sudden was now broken. Several of the vessels were seen passing up their sheets and tacks, which had been unshackled for the easier handling of the sails while exercising in harbor; and another signal crossed the yards the top-gallant and the royal yardswhich is, as a general thing, a sure indication that a ship is designing to put to sea. Ere long the Falmouth, lying at a distance at which her different evolutions could be seen, and orders, as they were given, heard, was perceived to be heaving in her cable, as link after link could be seen, by the glass, to rise from the water and recede by the hauser-hole;

and occasionally, a note of the fife, by which the tramp of the men marked the time as they bore around the capstan, came over the water to the ear. Ere long the men lay aloft, the sails fell, the anchor was weighed, and the Falmouth was standing out from her late moorings to the wide ocean, which lay to the north of us, in its sheen and wide expanse. Still the frigates and the John Adams slept in their places. But ere long, a few more of those spotted and striped pieces of bunting, so quickly read by the quarter-masters and deciphered by the flag-officers of the distant ships, were run up; and now the two frigates, the Potomac and our own Cumberland, were all action. The bars of the capstan were manned, the stancheons having been triced up, the gratings shipped, and three hundred and more men walked around with the capstan, as the messenger was wound around it and brought in the iron clanking chain, fathom after fathom, until the anchor was apeak; and then the order to pall the capstan came from the First-Lieutenant who now had the deck. The capstan palled, thus keeping home all the chain that had come in, the seamen laid aloft to loose the sails. In unison they fell, top-sails, top-gallant-sails, and courses, when the head sails being laid aback to the mast, the ship kept her rest until the men, again on the deck, walked around with the capstan, tripped the anchor, and the ship paid off. The gib was run up to facilitate her movement; and soon the royals and the flying-jib were set, and the noble Cumberland, in her full dress of white, was standing north, directing the frigate Potomac, which had followed our movements, and the Falmouth, to follow our course. The three ships, leaving the John Adams still at anchor, stood north, but to what point they were destined, few of either ship's company knew. But we had not long been on the wing, the wind handsomely filling our sails, before a large vessel, evidently, from her tall spars, a man-of-war, was seen

standing down directly for us. Nearer and still nearer the ships came the Cumberland in advance of our party— and the distant ship as if she feared nought stood yet boldly on, until her distinct proportions declared her to be of a class with ourselves-a noble frigate, handsomely handled, and exhibiting herself a beauty of her class as she came yet nearer. It was a fine exhibition, and a beautiful presentment of two frigates bearing down for action. She was known and was hourly expected, and she evidently recognized ourselves; for, ere long, the flame came forth from her sides and the loud thunder of her cannon came over the sea, as the smoke rolled away and afar to the leeward, while our own guns returned the fire. It was the U. S. frigate Raritan, Captain Gregory, saluting the BROAD PENNANT of the Cumberland. A signal was soon run up to the mizzen head, that told this new comer "to take her place on our starboard quarter" and keep us company. The four ships having made a short sail together, put back to an island farther out to sea than Sacrificios, and there came to anchor, under the lee of this little islet, known as Isla de Verde or Green Island.

As expected, another goodly proportioned bag of dispatches and letters ere long made its appearance from the Raritan, and the night was spent in reading of the health, and the happiness, and the love of endeared ones. Such were the grateful epistles received by myself—I hope they were equally acceptable, the many received by others.

The next morning broke; and its earliest beam as it came over the sea, lighted up our decks, while the sound of "up anchors ahoy!" was piped through the ship. The three frigates and the Falmouth were again soon to sea, standing on a northerly course-the frigates taking their places, the one on our larboard, the other on our starboard beam, in a line with our front, while the Falmouth followed in our

wake. With the dusk of evening, the Falmouth was lost to the sight. No one expected the Falmouth to sail long in company with us, unless the frigates should shorten sail for her; and she was no more seen until the point to which our course was directed was nearly reached, when this ship was found to have made her way ahead of us, and lay at anchor off Takoluta, the place of our destination, which she had reached twenty-four hours before us.

TAKOLUTA.

The ships had come here for water. The French fleet, during their difficulties with the Mexicans, some few years since, resorted to this place for watering their ships. We lie off the shore, some two miles. The green foliage that extends quite down to the beach, and the profile of the more distant mountains in the interior, together present a pleasing view to the eye, far more inviting, as contemplated from the ship, than the sterile sand banks in the neighborhood of Vera Cruz. It is the tropical scenery over again-an old acquaintance of mine—the cocoa-nut tree, and bamboo, and the rich luxuriance of green, mellowing the view in the distance, but like many poetic objects, more beautiful oftentimes in the distance than at the nearer approach.

The ships came to anchor on the 23d of April. The next morning, with other officers, I visited the shore; and was gratified with a ramble among green foliage, and to breathe, on the ocean beach, with a free expanse of chest, which the walls of a ship sometimes seem to forbid to the heaving lungs. The boat, on leaving the ship, was pulled some two miles, to the narrow mouth of the Takoluta river, across which stretches a bar, and the breakers, at this time unusually high, rolled quite athwart the passage. Lieutenant Brasher took

command of the boat, as we reached near the entrance and