Accordingly, the reticence which has so distinctively marked the men of the South throughout the struggle, was most religiously observed in the case of the Alabama.  It was impossible, of course, altogether to conceal from the diligent researches of Mr. Adams’ spies the fact of her destination.  But beyond having a strong suspicion that the vessel so rapidly approaching completion in Messrs. Laird’s yard was intended for the Confederate States, these astute gentlemen were altogether at fault.  This, however, was enough, and on the application of Mr. Adams an order was despatched to the Customs’ authorities at Liverpool to seize the ship, and prevent her from going to sea.

Fortunately for the Confederate vessel her friends were equally on the watch, and tidings of the projected seizure were promptly conveyed to Birkenhead.  It was necessary now to act with promptitude, and the final preparations were pushed on with the utmost speed.  At length, at a quarter past nine on the morning of the 29th July, 1862, the anchor was got up for the first time since she had been afloat, and the “No. 290” dropped slowly down the Mersey, anchoring that afternoon in Moelfra Bay.

Even this, however, could not be carried out without considerable precaution, and it was necessary, as a blind to the suspicious eyes so constantly employed in watching every movement of the sorely suspected vessel, to announce that she was merely proceeding for a short trial trip.  To give colour to this pretence, to which her even then unfinished condition lent a prima facie sanction, a gay party was assembled on board.  A number of ladies, friends and acquaintances of the builders, enlivened the narrow, and as yet rough and unfinished deck with their bright costumes, and seemed to afford a sufficient guarantee for the return of the vessel to port.  Luncheon was spread in the cabin, flags decorated the seats hastily improvised on the sacred quarter-deck, and all seemed bent upon making holiday.

Suddenly, however, the scene changed.  At a signal from the Alabama a small steam tug came puffing alongside, and to the visitors’ great astonishment they were politely requested to step on board.  Relieved of her gay cargo, the transformation of the Alabama proceeded with rapidity.  The luncheon had been already cleared away, and now seats and flags, and all the rest of the holiday paraphernalia began speedily to disappear.  Late that evening and all the next day the bustle of preparation continued, and at two o’clock in the morning of the 31st July the anchor was once more weighed, and with a strong breeze from the S.W. the “No. 290” started off, ostensibly on a voyage to Nassau in the Bahamas.

Just in time.  That morning the seizure was to have been made.  At the very moment that “No. 290” was heaving up her anchor, a huge despatch “On Her Majesty’s Service” was travelling down to Liverpool, at the top speed of the north-western mail,[4] commanding the Customs’ authorities to lay an embargo on the ship.  The morning was still but very slightly advanced when through the driving south-westerly squalls came the gold-laced officials in search of their prize, only to return in outward appearance considerably crestfallen, inwardly perhaps not altogether so deeply grieved as a good neutral should have been at the ill success of their uncomfortable trip.