Then stout hearts trembled with dismay, and men unused to tears turned pale and wept. As we passed vessel after vessel, we obtained further particulars of the cruel tragedy, and the feeling of gloom and indignation which prevailed was deep and indescribable. Nothing else was thought or talked of, till we arrived at the fortress. On landing, I purchased a Richmond paper, containing a full account of the assassination, the murderous attack upon Secretary Seward and his sons, with the plot to remove General Grant and the entire Cabinet. We found the entrance to the fortress draped in mourning, and the saddest reminders of all were the portraits of the departed President, deeply hung with crape, in the various offices. We made but a brief 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.