The Egotistigraphy by John Sanford Barnes - Internet Edition © 2012 by Susan Bainbridge Hay

The Autobiography of John Sanford Barnes 1836-1911

T H E   E G O T I S T I G R A P H Y
of a
Rolling Stone,
that gathered moss,
herein scraped off for the
information and amusement of
his family

" " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " "

Privately published;
edition limited to this one copy.

New York
January 1, 1910.

"Some said, John, print it; others said, Not so:
Some said, it might do good; others said, No."


. . . . . .

To my beloved wife and children

who have dutifully listened to,

or have read without remonstrance

this disjointed account of the life

and doings of their

affectionate husband and father.

Introduction to Internet Edition

On the 150th Anniversary of the Civil War, and in response to inquiries about my great-grandfather, John Sanford Barnes (1836 - 1911), it seems appropriate to give this interesting autobiography a wider audience.  In 1910 John Sanford Barnes wrote an account of his eventful life, which he called "The Egotistigraphy".   It focuses many chapters on his service in the Union Navy in the Civil War.  His descriptions of ships, of the naval engagements he participated in, and of the people he encountered ( Abraham Lincoln, Mary Lincoln, Admirals Dupont, Porter, and Lee, Generals Grant and Sherman, for example ) are wonderful.

The son of Major General James Barnes, he grew up in Springfield, Massachusetts.  He entered the U.S. Naval Academy at the age of 14.  After graduating in 1854, he studied law, but was recalled to service in the Union Navy when the Civil War began.  After the War he was active here and abroad in business, most notably in obtaining financing for what became the Great Northern Railway.

An original copy of "The Egotistigraphy" is owned by my family.  The body of the text has been kept intact.  Writing a run-on account, the author inserted markers about where the chapters should occur.  A  "Table of Contents" referred to the markers.  I felt this made it hard to read so I have broken the text up into the chapters indicated.

Thanks are due to my son, Will, whose idea it was to transcribe the original volume, and to his  secretary, Steve Lichtman, at Howard, Darby, and Levin, New York City, who in 2002 made the transcription from which this internet edition was derived.  I am also grateful to Jean Longfellow for producing this internet edition.
                                                                                Susan Bainbridge Hay
                                                                                Bedford, Massachusetts
                                                                                April,  2012           


Chapter I.  Genealogy. Chapter II.  At the Naval Academy.  Chapter III.  Arrival at Bordeaux. Chapter IV.  The First Atlantic Cable. Chapter V.  Examination for Promotion to  Midshipman. Chapter VI. Enter the Law School at Albany. Chapter VII.  Take a New Departure in Life. Chapter VIII.  The Port Royal Affair. Chapter IX.  DuPont’s Attack on Charleston. Chapter X.  Relieved by Lieutenant-Commander Erben. Chapter XI.  Operations in Trent’s Reach. Chapter XII.  Rumors of Admiral Lee’s Relief. Chapter XIII.  On Waiting Orders - Philadelphia. Chapter XIV.  Operations of Porter and Schofield in Cape Fear River. Chapter XV.  Arrival of Sheridan’s Cavalry.  Chapter XVI.  Evacuation of Richmond. Chapter XVII.  Ordered to the Naval Academy.Chapter XVIII.  Railroad Enterprises 




Chapter I.  Genealogy
Grandfather, Benjamin Barnes; Grandmother, Deborah Barnes; Grandfather, Alexander Sanford. John Sanford, Defendant in Dred Scott suit, my uncle, and son-in-law of Pierre Choteau of St. Louis. My father, General James Barnes. Major Whistler. Jim Whistler. Lady Seymour Hayden. Springfield, Mass: Our dog, "Prince." Early schools in Springfield; Corporal Punishments. Mr. Ariel Parish. The High School. My last threshing - Sports: fishing, skating, swimming, coasting. Decide to be a sailor. Promised an appointment as Midshipman. My sisters and brothers: Susie, Will, Emilie, James. Sketch of Springfield, 1846-1851. Daniel Webster. The "Barnes Lot." Real Estate Operations. "Aristocracy" of Springfield. Changes of sixty years. Go to Annapolis .

Chapter II.  At the Naval Academy

 Examination; passed. The Naval School of 1851-54 - Advanced Class. Cruises of Practise Ship "Preble;" Sailor life. Peak of Teneriffe - Fights. Alexander Crosman. Graduated 1854. Ordered to "San Jacinto." Commodore Stewart. Commodore Bainbridge's family. Cruise of "San Jacinto." Short visit to Springfield. The John Howard family. Baron Stockle, Russian Minister, married Miss Eliza Howard; promised to correspond with her. Steerage officers. Passed Midshipman Phyffe. Lieut. Herndon. Lieut. Beaumont. Purser Buchanan. Capt. Stribling. Alban C. Stimers. Southampton Water. Napier's flagship; lose one propellor wing. In dock. Life on British frigate "Fox." Queen Victoria. Ostende conference: Mr. Buchanan & Pierre Soule.

Chapter III.  Arrival at Bordeaux
Salutes there; Hospitality of the citizens - Opera - Dejazet in "The Hugenots" - Leave Bordeaux with Mr. Soule. Heavy gale in Bay of Biscay - lose another propellor Blade - Desperate illness of Soule. Arrival at Coruna, Spain - ship nearly lost - Soule leaves with escort for Madrid. Leave for Gibraltar, thence to Madeira. Arrived at St. Pierre, Martinique - Description of St. Pierre and its attractions. Watering ship - my sad experience. Arrival at Havana - lose last blade of propellor. Sail to Philadelphia. Hoist flag of Commodore McCauley - Return to Havana. Black Warrior case - return to Philadelphia. Ordered to sloop-of-war "Saratoga," Commander E.G. Tilton; incidents of this cruise; her officers. W.C. Whitney. Joseph H. Choate & Family matters. The Slaver "Amelia." "Bully" Erben. San Domingo - Santa Cruz and its Rum. St. Thomas. Man overboard! Captain Tilton's seamanship. Guantanamo surveyed. Havana and Matanzas. St. Thomas again. Yellow Fever. Leave the "Saratoga." Voyage in schooner "Hoyt," have Yellow Fever on board. Arrive in Philadelphia; ordered to Coast Survey - "Vixen" and "Arctic."

Chapter IV.  The First Atlantic Cable

Cruise of the "Arctic". Surveying the route between Trinity Bay, Newfoundland and Lands End. Capt. O.H. Berryman and officers of "Arctic;" results of survey. Arrival at St. Johns. Sounding Apparatus - instruments used - laborious but successful work. Arrival at Queenstown. Visit London. Mr. George Peabody and Mr. Junius Morgan. Lieut. Strain. Return Voyage to St. Johns. Cyrus W. Field - Submarine Cables. Capt. Berryman's letter. Lieut. M.F. Maury - his report. Mr. Field's success. The Dred Scott case; my Uncle John's and my Aunt Irene's connection with it; Defendants' expenses paid by Southerners; my uncle never Dred's owner; the decision. Detached from "Arctic." Ordered to Annapolis for Examination for promotion.

Chapter V.  Examination for Promotion to Passed Midshipman

Unable to present my Journals of Cruises; my excuse not received; Capt. Stribling's letter. Go to Washington, obtain order to examine me upon Lieut. Carr's denial of Capt. Stribling's assertions. Journal stolen on "Arctic" recovered 46 years later from Archives of State of New York. Appointed Assistant Professor of Ethics at Naval Academy. Baltimore Society. Try business on leave of absence. Ohio & Mississippi R.R. Charles Gould's office. Joseph H. Choate. Will's engagement and marriage. Panic of 1857. Mr. Leavitt, Pres. of American Exchange Bank. Give up trying civil life. Ordered as Master of "Jamestown" at Philadelphia. Commodore Chas. Stewart. Capt. C.H.A.H. Kennedy. The Bainbridge Family. S.B.H. Lieutenant Balch. Lieut. S.B. Luce. Lieut. E.K. Owen. Capt. Kennedy. Cruise of the "Jamestown." San Juan - Colon - Panama. The Canal Question. Malignant Fever. Ordered North; Arrival at Portsmouth, N.H. - Life there. Lieut. D.D. Porter and Mrs. Porter. Short leave of absence. Visit Springfield, meet Judge Ira Harris, suggests my studying Law. Return to "Jamestown;" Row with Capt. Kennedy. Resign my commission as Master Oct. 1, 1858. Ball on the ship. Miss Fanny Carter. Robbed of all my money; detection and arrest of the thief - all the money recovered. Master-at-Arms Squires, tried and sentenced to State Prison at Albany. "Jamestown" sails.

Chapter VI.  Enter the Law School at Albany

Admitted as Attorney & Counsellor-at-Law. Family connections there. Form partnership with J. Meredith Read, Jr., Successful business. Mr. Lincoln's nomination. Judge Harris elected United States Senator. Life in Albany. Ned Hill and Howard Carroll; both killed in Battle. Sports. First visit to Lenox, Mass. Gen'l John Rathbone. Join and organize Albany Zouave Corps. Col. Fred Townsend. Visits to Springfield. My mother's sisters and their children. Cousin Rittie and J. Howard King. Musical Accomplishments - the "Battle of the Baltic." Phil. Porcher; his death. Saratoga Springs - Miss Carter and Mr. Ronalds. The Lincoln Campaign in Albany - His election. Service in the National Guard. Offer my services to Secretary of the Navy. Southerners abandon the Navy. Capt. Tilton's death. Employed as Despatch Agent for Union Defense Committee. Go to Washington with Despatches to President Lincoln, Mr. Seward and General Scott. Reach Annapolis. Gen'l B.F. Butler. Reach Washington, deliver despatches. Call on Secretary of the Navy, Welles. Appointed Acting Lieut. on temporary service, and ordered to steam frigate "Wabash" as Navigator. On return detained in Philadelphia. Mr. Abram Hewitt.

Chapter VII.  Take a New Departure in Life

Called on Mrs. Hayes. Engaged to be married to Miss Susan Hayes. Mrs. Rogers and Cornelia. Leave Philadelphia. Close up business affairs at Albany. Visit Springfield. Report for Duty on U.S. steam frigate "Wabash." Resume my first profession. My letters to fiancee and wife. Cruise of the "Wabash." Charleston blockade, legal but ineffectual. Hatteras Expedition. Gen'l Butler and Commodore Stringham - a bungling affair - Comments upon the fight. Return to Charleston blockade. Capt. Mercer and Lieut. Corbin. Ordered to New York - "Seminole" affair. Re-capture of "Mary Alice" and capture of "Sarah Starr." The lucky darky. "Wabash" ashore on Frying Pan Shoals - narrow escape. Errors of dead reckoning. Arrival at New York. Captain Mercer detained. "Wabash" hoists the flag of Rear-Admiral DuPont. Preparations for Naval operations. Character of DuPont. Grant fleet leave Hampton Roads for Port Royal, S.C. Great storm off Hatteras. Arrival off Port Royal.

Chapter VIII.  The Port Royal Affair

Capt. Raymond and John Rogers. Captain C.H. Davis. Gen'l T. Sherman and Lieut. Horace Porter. The great gale. Survey of approaches to forts. Tatnall's mosquito fleet. My gun diversion - and Rifle brigade of sailors. The fight - my part in it. Take possession of Fort Walker with Rifle brigade. Looting the fort - Camp and barracks.   Failure to profit by victory. Surveying expeditions. Abandonment of all coast defenses. Gen'l James H. Wilson - Taking possession of all the harbors and towns south of Port Royal. Capture of the steamboat "Darlington." The bear "Bess." Taking possession of Jacksonville, Florida. The yacht "America." Affair at Mosquito Inlet. Captains Budd and Mather killed. Situations of former naval officers. Recomendations of the President and Secretary of the Navy, that they be restored to old positions; Admiral DuPont's approval. Ordered to command the gunboat "Dawn." Service in the Ossabaw and Warsaw Sounds. Engagements with Fort McAllister. Destruction of Confederate States steamer "Nashville" by "Montauk" and fleet; winter sport in those sounds. Pilot Murphy; his death. The Mortar boat. The Monitors.

Chapter IX  DuPont’s Attack on Charleston

 Ordered to "New Ironsides." Capt. Belknap's account. "The Battle of the Baltic" episode. The battle; my opinion of it and its result. Return to the "Dawn." Ordered to the "Wabash" as her executive officer. Commissioned as Lieutenant-Commander; signed by President Lincoln. Admiral DuPont relieved by Dahlgren. Service in the "Wabash," off Charleston. Attacks on Forts Wagner & Sumter. Often in command of “Wabash" and of boat expeditions. Opinion of Dahlgren and his work; comparison with that of DuPont. Relieve Capt. Alexander Rhind in command of "Paul Jones." Ordered to New York. Fleet Captain George Rogers killed. Suicide of Lieutenant-Commander Carpenter, his executive. Arrival at New York. Detached and ordered to steam frigate "Niagara” at Boston, Captain Craven. Splendid ship; worthless as a man-of-war; her career.   Gloucester, Mass.   Our Honeymoon.

Chapter X.  Relieved by Lieutenant-Commander Erben

Ordered as Fleet Captain of the North Atlantic Squadron. Reported to Rear-Admiral Lee at Hampton Roads. Lieut. Fyffe - His reception on the flagship. Captain Upshur. Reasons for my appointment My father in command of Norfolk division; visit him at Norfolk. My mother, sister and wife also visit Norfolk; happy reunions there. Hard office work - Reorganize the office -- established on "Malvern.".  The blockade of Cape Fear River. Constant visits to the blockaders. Difficulties of a perfect blockade. Systems adopted -- great number of blockade runners -- all English - Descriptions of them. Prize money. Cargoes. Captured or destroyed. Practise in storms. Delicate questions -- Diplomatic and official correspondence -- Changes in system. Wilkinson's and Roberts' narratives. Operations of Army and Navy on James River. Occupation of City Point. Trent's Reach Torpedoes - Destruction of "Commodore Jones" Joe Fyffe. General Grant. Torpedo Attack on "Minnesota.". Hunter Davidson - Picture of his "David" - "Submarine Warfare.". French Tobacco. Rebel Ironclad "Albermarle.". Death of Flusser. Capt. Roe and the "Sassycuss," The "Double-enders."

Chapter XI.  Operations in Trent’s Reach

Sharpshooters - My escape. Crow's nest with Dewey. Howlett's House battery. Obstructions placed in river channel. General Butler's false Reports - generally detested. The Upshur affair and Court of Inquiry, and finding. Butler's horsemanship; his arbitrary proceedings and grotesqueness. Diversified occupations of a Fleet Captain - Period of inaction. Courts martial - Position of a Naval Judge Advocate General demanded. Summoned to Washington -- Draw up a Bill for Congressional action. Grant in the Wilderness. Battle of Cold Harbor. Crossing the James by Grant's Army. Siege of Petersburg. Admiral Lee urges joint attack by Army and Navy upon Fort Fisher. Visits a marksman displayed to Mr. Lincoln.

Chapter XII.  Rumors of Admiral Lee’s Relief

Sketch of his career and characteristics - His opinion of Butler. Leave the James River - Go to Wilmington Blockade -- Headquarters at Beaufert on "Malvern". -- Conditions of the blockade service. Inefficient ships. Swifter blockade running - frequent evasions. Torpedo Explosion at City Point -- Dutch Gap Canal. Rumors as to Lee's successor. Admiral Farragut chosen. Preparations for attack on Cape Fear River defenses -- My report upon the situation. Farragut declines the command -- Admiral Porter selected -- Relieved Admiral Lee at Hampton Roads. Lee invites me to accompany him as Fleet Captain, Mississippi Squadron - decline; Lieutenant-Commander Kidder Breeze, takes my place. Porter's Cordiality.

Chapter XIII.  On Waiting Orders - Philadelphia

Our daughter Susie. Ordered to command the steamship "Bat," fitting out at Boston - a converted Blockade runner. The powder cargo. Butler's scheme for blowing up Fort Fisher - its failure. Accident to the "Bat." -- Get to sea -- Heavy gale -- dismasted and took fire -- Arrived at Hampton Roads -- Powder boat farce. First attack on Fort Fisher a failure -- Butler's ignominious retreat. Carry Porter's despatches to Washington. Rhind and Preston's account. Reach Washington same time as Butler in his despatch boat. Butler's statements confronted with Porter's despatches - the lie direct -- Porter's positive assertions -- asks for same troops with another commander -- declared Butler a coward, &c. Meet Butler -- his self-importance. Leave Washington with despatches for Porter - find him snugly at anchor inside the forts -- all of them in our possession. Porter's triumphant reception -- Ridicule of Butler's performances.  "Bat" used as a decoy duck - Capture of two victims. Maffitt in "Owl" escapes. Inspect the interior of Fort Fisher. Havoc of the Bombardment -- Places where Preston and Porter were killed. Sailors' assault not in vain. Ordered to communicate with General Sherman -- Reached him at Georgetown, S.C. Received his letter to Porter. Sherman's opinion of Butler. Cruise in open sea off Bermuda. Blockade Running over -- No more prize money. Back to Cape Fear River.

Chapter XIV.  Operations of Porter and Schofield in Cape Fear River

Regular officers commanding the ships. Uselessness of the "Bat.". Ordered to command double-ender "Lenapee," - curious condition of that ship. Her commander goes to the "Bat.". Getting the "Lenapee" into fighting shape. In the thick of the fight with Fort Anderson - capture of the fort. Torpedoes -- Loss of lives -- Aground. Ammunition short. Fort Lee abandoned. Take up and explode mines. Move up to Wilmington - wretched town. Commander Ralph Chandler relieved me. I return to the "Bat," - made a despatch boat. Leave for Washington. Assistant Secretary Fox and friends make a trip with me to City Point and return. Fox puts the "Bat" at the disposal of President Lincoln, to visit City Point -- see the President and Mrs. Lincoln; her determination to accompany him -- no accommodations for ladies - "River Queen" substituted - ordered to convoy her -- Charged with the personal safety of the President -- Arrival at City Point. Visit a battlefield.

Chapter XV  Arrival of Sheridan’s Cavalry

Naval Review. Review of General Ord's division - singular circumstances attending it. Mrs. Lincoln's mental condition -- Interview with her and the President. Visit Point of Rocks with Mr. & Mrs. Lincoln. Another unhappy scene. Mrs. Grant and Mrs. Lincoln. General Sherman arrives from Goldsboro, N.C. Lincoln nervous over his (Sherman's) absence from his army - ordered to take him back with his staff officers. Leaves City Point. General Sherman's delightful companionship - his stories of the march -- Land Sherman at Newberne; his brother John and Mr. Stamton, passengers. Comparison of Grant and Sherman. Return to City Point. Report to the President. Petersburg in our possession - visit it with Mr. Lincoln. The rebel lines of defense.

Chapter XVI.  Evacuation of Richmond

Visit the City with the President and Admiral Porter -- President much exposed. City partly in flames. Enter Mr. Davis house -- Scenes in Richmond. Return to City Point. Mrs. Lincoln's return with Congressional party -- other painful scenes. Lee's surrender. Return to Washington convoying the "River Queen." Say 'goodbye' to the President. Return to Hampton Roads. Visit my father at Point Lookout. Admiral Porter leaves the station. News of the President's assassination. Henry Rathbone and Clara Harris. Ordered to Washington -- detached and given leave of absence.

Chapter XVII.  Ordered to the Naval Academy

Command of "Marblehead." Academy moved back to Annapolis -- Admiral Porter and the officers there. Life at Annapolis. Destruction of Cushing's Torpedo launch. Sketch of Cushing - his personality and achievements. The Naval Academy Life. Practise ship "Savannah." Inspection of the Union Pacific Railroad. Secretary of Commission -- Valuable experience with my father and General Warren, the commissioners. My father ill. Dr. Metcalfe. My father's death. I seek civil employment. Meet John S. Kennedy - enter into business with him -- Resign my commission. Move to Elizabeth, N.J. Visit Texas on business. Go to London -- Race with Mr. Jesup's partner -- First important business success. Form partnership with Mr. Kennedy.

Chapter XVIII.  Railroad Enterprises

The Texas & New Orleans - and other Railroad enterprises. The International Railroad of Texas . The Texas Legislature . Panic of 1871 . The History of the St. Paul & Pacific; St. Paul, Minneapolis & Manitoba and Great Northern Railroad Companies. James J. Hill - George Stephen - Donald A. Smith . Foundations of great private fortunes . Firm dissolved. Retirement from business.


The title to "My Book" is borrowed. I have seen it used by some one in playful allusion to his sketch of what he modestly called his rather vagrant wanderings and uneventful life, but in which he figures as the principal character, and necessarily dealt largely with the pronoun "I," because no one else ever had or ever would do so if he didn't.

As I go over my scrawling narrative my story seems only half told, and yet it has spun itself out with trivial circumstances that might just as well, perhaps better, have been altogether omitted, and the Book compressed into a little pamphlet to be skimmed over, cast aside, or used for kindling, like many similar effusions contemptuously called in literary parlance "stuff."

But as I do not propose to print, or otherwise attempt its infliction upon others than those to whom I dedicate it, I simply decline to apologize for the egotisms, with the statement that it is not history, not autobiography, but only the rambling story of the varied life of a boy and man, in whose career they may reasonably supposed to have some interest. I have had some amusement and occupation in the doing, if no one will have any pleasure in the reading of it.

I confess, however, that when on rare occasions, my dear Nell, with dramatic force has honored my scribbling by reading it aloud to the respectful audience composed of our own family, gathered about our domestic fireside, so graceful has been her diction, emphasis and modulation, that I scarcely recognized my own production, joined in the plaudits of her hearers, and proudly bowed my acknowledgements, with the modesty  that becomes an "author".  Perhaps as these seances occurred about Christmas time their criticisms were not unprejudiced. Jim, who has posed as an expert, and written no end of books and is a "literary cuss," exclaimed: "Why, Squire, somebody would publish it for nothing, or at least if you would pay the cost of it!"

Sanford, who is all business and seldom indulges in fiction, managed to keep awake. Charlotte thought it quite interesting as far as she heard it, while Mother insisted upon more accuracy in dates and chronological arrangement of the several periods of our mutual acquaintance, and thought that a certain important event took place nearer to quarter to five o'clock than at half past four, or the day before, or the day after, and why I didn't mention the day when everyone was born, and other interesting domestic events, rather than enlarge upon horrid war scenes which were so disagreeable to think of at the time. Edith, - bless her motherly heart - herself an authoress of pretty lines illustrative of child life drawn from her own maternal experiences, was rather exuberant in her appreciations, and tender-hearted Nell almost wept as she faltered at some of the "So - ons" inserted against the protests of Mother.

At all events, the general conclusion was like that of the Midshipman who had trembled at Captain Marryat's frown, on finishing his "Japhet in search of a father," who remarked to him: "Well, there are some good things in it."


My children have so often urged me to give an account of myself, with a very proper filial respect for my ability to make the relation of my small doings interesting to them if not to others, that I am induced to gratify them. If in the doing I use so frequently the personal pronoun 'I' that I incur the odious charge of egoism, I can only reply to the criticism, that my object is myself, and any one else desiring to cut a figure in autobiography had better write his own story.

I believe it customary for a writer to commence as I do, with some account of his progenitors - so far as he knows anything about them. Family trees are being cultivated now-a-days, and are so fertilized and grafted and otherwise changed from the original stock, that by their fruits are not easily classed. I have no reason to be dissatisfied with the present stock.

Well, then, my father, James Barnes, Major-General of Volunteers during the late unpleasantness with our Southern friends, was born in Boston,  June 1805, the only son and child of Benjamin Barnes and Deborah James. Benjamin, was the son of Enoch, a shipbuilder, and Deborah, the daughter of John and Abigail James, well-to-do people of the period. Benjamin claimed to have been one of the heroes of Bunker Hill, where as a lad of sixteen he bore a pike, to which he often pointed with pride, when as a child, I listened to the story of his prowess and wondered what on earth he could possibly have done with it for the cause of Independence, as from a doubtful war implement it had become a peaceful domestic weapon with which to stir up the dying embers of the fireplace, and commonly designated the poker. Perhaps he poked the Britishers with it; at all events he carried it off with him when, as my grandmother frequently remarked, he ran away. As a lad of sixteen he couldn't very well have won much distinction behind the haystacks, and no history of that or any other battle includes his name as a warrior. He was, however, a very tall and handsome old gentleman as I remember him, and up to the time of the cessation of his activities, persisted in wearing breeches and shoe buckles, a small cue secured by a comb, a blue coat with brass buttons and a buff waistcoat. If freedom from pursuits of gain by occupation constitutes a gentleman, he was one.

He delighted in Horticultural work; the garden attached to the old house, situated at the corner of Columbia Street and Blue Hill Turnpike in Roxbury, opposite the present Franklin Park, enclosed by a high board fence armed with spikes against marauders was, and still lingers in my mind, as a marvel of beauty and delicious productions of peaches, pears, apples and all kinds of fruits. In it my grandfather employed himself with assistance, and in it he found his end - as on watching with lantern and his pike upon a bleak night for expected plunderers, he was stricken by paralysis, lay unconscious for hours, but survived for many years a physical wreck. I dwell a little further upon this, one of the earliest of our ancestors that I ever knew personally and whom my children never knew and scarcely have heard of. As a boy, I passed most of my vacations with my grandparents; my recollections of him as a strong, vigorous and irascible old gentleman are dim - as a big, heavy, cumbersome invalid, seated in an armchair, with a bell at hand to summon assistance, writing with painful effort and cramped lines, the story of his uneventful life he is ever before me. I shirked his almost inarticulate reading of it, as I did his embraces, but he was despotic in his rule, invalid as he was, and every one submitted with as good grace as possible to his constant demands upon their care and attention. His passing away was peaceful and a relief to him, and the family, after ninety-six years of uneventful life, and his remains are reposing in Auburn cemetery.

But my grandmother was of a different sort, small in stature, bright in intellect, kindly in disposition, a reader of books, fond of poetry, a student of events, capable in business affairs - she lavished upon her grandchildren a wealth of affection that made her the object of our adoration, and our visits there marked the joyful termination of the school days. Her unwearying care of my grandfather during the long period of his invalidism, her gentleness in quietly meeting the exactions of his often impatient temper increased our love for her, if not for him. She had inherited a property ample for her needs, consisting for the most part of buildings in Boston, swept away by the great conflagration soon after her death. The old deeds to her father dated in 1757 are still in my possession, but the land upon which they stood have since been sold and are now covered with massive blocks of business buildings. She managed her own property, attended to the rentals and disbursed her income, rarely consulting her son my father, but at times employing him. She had a wonderful memory, and quietly rocking to and fro, would repeat in a gentle sweet voice hymns and poems that had impressed her as beautiful. With a quick sense of humor, she would laugh musically at any story, and could tell many herself with amusing emphasis and gesture. She was never for a moment idle; indoors and out she was always busy with some useful occupation with hands or mind. Relieved of the anxiety and care of my grandfather, she lived happily and contented, passing into the Beyond full of honor, loved by all who knew her, at the age of ninety-four years. She lies by the side of my father and mother in the Springfield Cemetery.

My grandfather, the father of my mother, Francis Alexander Sanford - was born and lived in Virginia, Westmoreland County, where he owned a plantation and numerous slaves. Here my mother, Charlotte Adams Sanford was born, the second of a numerous family of children - all born upon the Virginia plantation. She was named for her mother, whose maiden name was Charlotte Adams, a descendant of an Adams who was related to the Adams family of New England.

The eldest of these children was John Francis Adams Sanford for whom I was named, and who was the nominal defendant in the famous Dred Scott case - of him I shall speak hereafter - as he was perhaps the only one of my forebears who ever reached a place of distinction in the history of the country.

My grandfather whom I knew personally was a very handsome man, as will be seen by his portrait in my possession. He received an appointment as a Government officer, and giving up his planting moved with his family to Baltimore, was stationed at Fort McHenry in the years 1830-33 - where my father just graduated from the West Point Military Academy - met and was married to my mother in the year 1832. Leaving the army, my grandfather, at the instance of his eldest son, John, moved to St. Louis, Missouri, and established himself there upon another plantation with his Virginia chattels. This plantation is now within the city limits of St. Louis. John Sanford had married a daughter of Pierre Choteau. He owned the plantation, and the land ultimately passed to the Choteau family. Here my grandfather passed the remainder of his days, occasionally visiting his children in the East and upon one of those visits I came to know him.

He had married a second time in his old age much against the wish of his children. All I can say about him is, that he was a dear old man with the Southern habit and manner, who passed a wholly uneventful life.

My father, James Barnes, was born in Boston, Massachusetts in the year 1805. As to his boyhood, I can best refer to the sketch of his life by the Reverend C. C. Boaman who was a contemporary and school mate, and will be found in the memorial collected, bound and illustrated by me, which shows that he was studious, serious-minded, industrious, somewhat given to poetical effusions and general literature; he stood high in the Boston High School for excellence in his classes - received the "Franklin Medal" and was turned from his intention to enter the ministry by some unknown influence, and at the suggestion of Daniel Webster, accepted an appointment to a cadetship at West Point in the year 1828. Here he was a classmate of the late General Robert E. Lee, and ran him a close race for the head of his class, of which he was throughout his four-years-course always a star number and never received a demerit mark. I must refer for the particular service rendered by him to "McCullum's Graduates of West Point," which gives an outline of his army and civil life. For I must not forget that this is my own story, and while it would be pleasant for me to dwell further upon my father's career and to mention with some detail my dear mother's gentle, lovely life, I must content myself with letting them appear in these pages as they are connected with my own little existence. So, with this preamble I introduce myself as having been ushered into the world at West Point in the year 1836, on the 12th day of the month of May. At that time there was a dearth of competent civil engineers in this country, and the construction of railroads, bridges and other public works was undertaken in many directions. West Point instruction had given many to civil pursuits, and my father took leave of absence, and became one of the civil engineers, who surveyed and built the then Western railroad from Worcester to Albany.

His chief was Major Whistler, the father of the celebrated Jimmy Whistler, artist, who later went to Russia and in the employment of the Winane Contractors, built the railroad between St. Petersburg and Moscow. Major Whistler and my father were intimate friends, and at first both resided in Springfield, where our families were intimately associated, and Jimmy Whistler and I as boys played together. I have several of the Major's letters to my father, upon the engineering problems of the work; one introducing the Russian envoy who was acquiring information as to the American methods of construction - the Howe bridge, steam shovels, etc. As a result of this visit, Major Whistler went subsequently to Russia, and it may have had its influence in my father's call there later upon similar work. Mrs. Whistler and my mother became intimate friends; I remember her clearly - Her portrait by her son which made him famous is lifelike in its wonderful truthfulness. Miss Deborah Whistler, daughter, who later married Sir Seymour Hayden, the etcher, kept up a correspondence with my mother until the end. She is now blind, very old, but leading a wonderful life in England. Willie Whistler, nearer my own age, a younger brother, served in the Confederate army, went to England at the close of the war, practiced medicine in London in partnership with his brother-in-law, Sir Seymour Hayden.

On moving to Springfield from West Point we occupied successively the old Trask house on State Street, the Worthington House, corner of Bridge and Main Streets, the Byers House on the "Hill," near the armory. In the year 1844 my father bought the old Dwight house, on Maple Street between High and Union Streets. In that house and its surroundings my boyhood was passed. It is still standing, exactly as it was, outside and inside, sixty odd years ago - although the town has grown from a village of three or four thousand inhabitants to a city of [one hundred] thousand.

The life of an ordinary boy in a quiet country town, up to the age of fourteen years - when I left it to become a Midshipman in the United States Navy - is rather commonplace and uninteresting, but to me it is filled with pleasant recollections. In the retrospect which old men indulge in, I rather like to go back to those days, recall the once familiar faces of men and women who were my parents' friends, and my companions at school and on the playgrounds, now like myself, old if alive, but who almost without exception have passed into the Beyond, for I cannot at this day find a single person whom I knew or who knew my family or me, now living in Springfield.

Amongst my earliest recollections, our great newfoundland dog "Prince," comes to mind. Some friend in Halifax sent him to my father - black, shaggy and brave - at first he was a terror to me, but soon became a play mate, until one day presuming upon our friendship, I took his dinner from him, when he fastened his teeth to my hand, and the scar is there today. He was thereupon transferred to the railroad office, became a great favorite amongst the operatives at the station and the machine shops. He made his home in my father's office, would meet the incoming trains, receive the newspapers and trot back with them. One early morning my father was called up and told that burglars had entered the office, on going there the door was found burst in and a stream of blood led to Mr. Ware's, the treasurer's desk, and underneath amidst waste paper, poor Prince lay with his throat cut but still alive. Dr. Chaffee was called, sewed up the wound and Prince was soon about again. A few days after this occurrence, Dr. Chaffee was called to attend a negro on the Hill who was suffering from lacerations, evidently done by a dog. He confessed that
he had attempted the robbery, but was frustrated by the furious attack of the dog, from whose clutches he only escaped by the use of his knife. Prince lived to good old age, was finally run over by an engine, and the operatives asked and obtained a half holiday, attended his funeral, and for many years a marble headstone erected by them on the bank of the river recorded his many virtues.

My first school was that of Miss Holbrook, on the corner of High and School Streets, who taught me my letters, stood me in corners and administered justice impartially. From this I passed to the school on State Street, a few rods west of Main, kept by a Mr. Lawton, with one or two women assistants. Mr. Lawton was a tartar; he whacked and threshed every boy or girl who infringed his many rules, and I came in for my share and no doubt deserved what I got. One real good one I remember.

There was a bell in the cupola and the good and bigger boys were privileged to ring it, in rhythmic strokes to call the scholars to their studies, fifteen minutes before each morning and afternoon school hour; being neither good nor big I had never been entrusted with this duty, but on being "Kept in" one afternoon I found myself in the recitation room where the bell rope hung, and as the boys passed out of the door beneath I flung the bell rope to them, and the bell at that unseasonable hour made music in the air. I assisted until I was caught, and the terrible Lawton whacked and beat me sore.

My dear gentle Sister Susie, should she ever read these reminiscences, will remember with becoming indignation this terrible schoolmaster Lawton, for, through a very brief period she, as well as my brother Will, attended the State Street School.

Susie was a quiet little girl, so gentle and lovable, so studious and anxious to learn, so obedient and true, so helpful at home, that she was always a model of general loveliness as a daughter and sister. It would seem impossible that any human being could find any pretext for violence towards her, but Lawton did, on the occasion of school dismissal one day, when upon the tinkling of a bell, the scholars in a defined order, arose and marched past the platform to the door of exit. I don't know what particular deviation from the alignment or bearing Susie was guilty of, but as she passed Lawton with her school books, and little sun bonnet on her head, he seized her, twisted her out of the line, and almost flung her hard upon the edge of his throne, where she sat trembling and sobbing until the school room was empty.

This episode ended the career of all of us under the tutelage of this monster, and led to his final retirement as a pedagogue in Springfield. On reflection I am inclined to think that Susie forgot to 'curtsy' as she passed Lawton - a tribute exacted from the girls not of respect or adieu, for no one could have been more thoroughly detested and feared than was this man, by his youthful subjects. I must have been about nine or ten years old, and my brother Will, a year and a half older, but this scene and the wrathful indignation it created remains with me still. Will and I could have murdered that man with pleasure, while our father and mother made such a presentation of Lawton's barbarities that, although castigation by school teachers for faults of scholars was then the general practise in all schools - public and private - Lawton's usefulness was ended in Springfield.

I was then sent down to the school room of Mr. Bowers, on the floor below, and resumed my work at the three R's. Mr. Bowers was a contrast to Mr. Lawton, but a disciplinarian after his fashion. He had a hard rubber ball on his desk, and if a boy was observed to be whispering or idling, he would throw it at him, calling his name and if it hit - which it often did - it hurt; but hit or miss, the boy whose name was called, had to pick it up and return it. For being saucy, as he called it, I was "Kept in" one afternoon, sent to the recitation room for a threshing; while pondering over my sins, my brother Will's head appeared at the window: "Is he going to lick you, Jack?" and he wriggled through the small aperture, and when Mr. Bowers appeared with that well known ruler, Will stood beside me, pulled off his jacket and said: "Mr. Bowers, our father doesn't want his boys licked, so if you try it you'll have to lick both of us." Will was big and strong, and I was pugnacious, and Mr. Bowers concluded to forgive me this time.

This ended for a time my attendance at the public school, and I passed to the private school of Mr. Banks; immediately behind the Court House on Hampden Street. He also was a believer in the efficacy of the ruler, and for a little man could and did wield it like a boatswain's mate. Will and I got on there fairly well and learned something, but the crisis came when he attempted to thresh me and Ned Foote for singing out "Ducky" as he rode by us on a horse and then hiding in some bushes. Ned and I promised united resistance, and when Mr. Bangs told me to lean over and touch the platform edge while he stood ready with his ruler, I refused. He gave me one minute with his watch in hand to obey him. "Time's up," and he seized me. I shouted "Come on, Ned!" and fought, bit and scratched the best I knew how. Ned didn't come on, and I caught it good and strong, and had the satisfaction after Bangs had finished me off, of seeing Ned get it worse than I had.

The affair made some talk, and Will and I both left Mr. Bangs’ school. I was then a strong, active boy, full of mischief - a good swimmer, rather a leader amongst my set, always ready for a scrimmage with the Mill River boys, the mortal enemies of the Maple and Chestnut Street boys, who could hardly meet without some exchange of compliments ending in a row. We swam in the Connecticut our bathing place being near the end of the old Covered Bridge, innocent of paint, brown and moss covered it stretched its rattling way from the foot of Bridge Street to Agawam.

To swim the river at this place over to the Sand Bar was the test for the graduation from the small boy class into the big boys' class.

The old Bridge was a toll bridge, and its keeper was a man by the name of Ward, who added to his income by the commerce of Root beer, peanuts, candies, etc. His son, Henry, was a desk mate at the High School on its establishment under the care of Mr. Ariel Parish, Miss Bliss, and Miss Pettis in the then superb building on Hampden Street, opposite the old Court House, and into which I was to my surprise admitted upon examination.

The High School of Springfield has a history of its own; the first building was considered a great town extravagance, by some of the tax payers, and its luxuries a great contrast with the simple interiors of the homes of most of its scholars. Under the wise management of Ariel Parish and his able assistants whose memories should be preserved in its annals; it grew in favor and importance as an educational institution. In it I studied and learned during my two years of instruction, more than most boys do in private schools now-a-days in twice the time - and today acknowledge my indebtedness to good Mr. Parish and those two noble women who carefully taught, and invariably secured the respect and affection of all their pupils - With this gained, progress in study was steady and sure. Yet, Mr. Parish practiced the methods then in vogue, and with others at first I received the benefit of them - but I am proud to say but once - when for a most ridiculous piece of mischief, he gave me, and I calmly submitted to, as sound a threshing as I undoubtedly deserved. It completely cured me, and thereafter I took good care to behave myself, and before I left the High School I was promoted to a rear seat in the big school room, amongst the steady, reliable boys, like Henry Lee, Thomas Reynolds, Brigham Spooner, and several other boys who, remaining in Springfield became prominent and useful citizens - and even then did not need watching.

The first "High School" was a large square, two-story brick structure, surmounted by a cupola, but without the usual bell; the lower or ground floor was occupied as an ordinary public school - I was never in it as a scholar. The upper floor was the High School, presided over by Mr. Parish. The floor was divided into two recitation rooms, one occupied by Miss Bliss, the other by Miss Pettis. The main room filled with desks ranged in parallel rows; the walls of cement blackened and framed, supplanted the old "Black boards," a platform at the eastern end held Mr. Parish's desk, and from which he commanded a clear view of his subjects, and upon which the orators spoke their pieces on the half holiday - Wednesdays - The boys were seated on the right and the girls on the left, with a wide aisle between them.

There was no distinction as to age, sex or color. One of the best scholars was a negress, and I may add one of most correct in deportment. I wonder what became of her! The girls entered the building by one door, the boys by another; each had a hook for hat or coat, numbered; also a place for overshoes, and there was a wash basin, towel and comb, and each boy who passed to his desk in review in disordered raiment, rumpled hair, or dirty hands, was promptly turned back and told to fix himself. Sleds, skates, hockey sticks, bats and such boys paraphernalia were prohibited. The playground for recessional recreation was small, divided of course by a high board fence. High School pupils were not supposed to play during recess - Many kept their desks, studied or indulged in whispered talk or low laughter or exchanged silent greetings across the broad middle aisle. It took only a few weeks of Mr. Parish's rule and ruler, and Miss Bliss' gentle example, to reduce about as mischievous a lot of youngsters as one could find in any community, to order and an emulating spirit of studious habit. I grew to have the greatest respect and admiration for Mr. Parish, notwithstanding that most severe threshing he very properly administered unto me, and I feel today that to him and that basting I owe whatever has come to me in the successes of my life. He attained great and deserved prominence in the Educational systems of New England, largely I believe from the work done by him in the Springfield High School. That my expiated misdemeanor may be known of men and my children, and a warning to theirs, I should state it in all its enormity, as it was rather a turning point in my rather obstreperous life. I had a cousin Benjamin Choteau Sanford, who had been half educated in Europe - he was half French and half American, speaking French naturally and English imperfectly. He came to us as a visitor, at about the time of my entry into the High School, and brought with him a lot of the then most unusual garments ever seen in Springfield on man or boy.

My usual rig was the jacket and trousers of the New England boy of the period, a little turned-down collar and ribbon, simplicity and general ugliness perfect. It was my turn to speak my piece, selected by Mr. Parish, learned by heart, with gestures and emphasis at will, but subject to correction and interruption before the whole school. Mr. Parish abandoning his desk and platform, stood in the rear with book and pencil in hand, to prompt, correct or advise the unlucky boy who faltered, stammered, forgot or was so awkward that he was called down to an accompaniment of snickers. Sometimes the mothers of boy orators would be present at these Wednesday afternoon performances. I am happy to say that my eloquence was of so doubtful a character that on this occasion my mother prudently remained at home. Amongst my Cousin Ben's voluminous wardrobe, was a suit composed of a striped long-tailed cutaway coat, with vest and trousers to match. It was much too big for me; at home when I appeared and capered about arrayed in it, I cut so comical a figure and excited so much amusement that I conceived the idea that it was as funny for my school mates as for my home audience, so I tucked up the trousers, smuggled the coat to my desk, and arrayed myself under it, while my predecessor on the platform was holding the audience in breathless suspense over his interpretation of "The boy stood on the burning deck" - When the applause which greeted his efforts subsided, I remember Mr. Parish's quiet "Very good, Brigham," and I think he got a 10, but I was too much occupied with my embarrassing toilet to be critical. Then, Mr. Parish, without looking at me said, "Now John Barnes!" I struggled to my feet, shambled to the platform, probably as ridiculous a figure as had ever appeared to the astonished gaze of a Springfield audience. I had made a few additions to my costume - a great high standing collar, a streak of black cork down my nose, a thick string around my neck attached to a big pewter snuff box in shape of a watch, and as my adjustments were without aid of looking glass, I can only judge of my success, by the roars of laughter which greeted my bow and the utterances of "On Linden when the sun was low." Mr. Parish then looked up and at me, and as I faltered, somewhat abashed at the applause, he said: "John, take your seat, I will see you after school," and he did as aforesaid. That afternoon I was late at the bathing place, and I went in as the other boys came out, receiving renewed applause of an ironical character, as the evident marks of Mr. Parish's disapproval became apparent to observers.

That was the last licking I ever had from anyone, boy or man.  It did me good, and I think it was almost the last that Mr. Parish ever gave to any High School boy. It is well to be distinguished for something. Mr. Parish called upon my father, explained matters, for I had not complained, and I came rather near getting a second edition at his hands.

As a boy I was devoted to "Sport," secured an old fashioned single barreled gun, hid it in a sequestered nook, and would stray away on a Saturday, shooting at everything with feathers on it, until it burst from an overload of newspaper and homemade shot or slugs. Gun powder was so often played with that it was only Providential that I was not mangled or blown to pieces. I had an old horse pistol, which I used with some effect upon cats, until the barrel flew over my shoulder, leaving the grip in my hand. It was more dangerous to me than its target. I once rescued a big boy from drowning off the sand bar, who licked me the next day because he said I had told his mother - which I denied - at the same time putting up as good a fight as I was able.

I played "Hooky" once in a while to go a-fishing, generally got caught for one part of the hooky business if I didn't catch anything else. The old town brook having its source in Garden Brook, and flowing out of Worthington or Nettleton's Pond, then ran down to the river, along Main Street, making during its later course, a general sewer for bordering places. Lieut. Albert G. Clary, U.S.N. was an expert fisherman, and occasionally I carried the bait box for him. He lived on Union Street, and his house lot backed upon my father's garden. During the Civil War I relieved him in the command of the Gun Boat "Dawn," blockading in Ossabaw Sound.

He married late in life a Portuguese lady, and on the retired list finished his life in Lisbon. The Fourth of July was a pretty considerable kind of day for the boys of Springfield. We used to borrow from Colonel Ripley, commanding the armory, two old army tents, pitch them in the vacant lots overlooking the town on Chestnut Street, spread out Dutch treats, and blaze away with small improvised cannon and fire crackers all day long, making as much noise and smoke as possible - with a list of casualties, in burnt fingers and garments, that would have done credit to a militia company. The boys of my set were juvenile zoologists. We had all sorts of animal pets - dogs, cats, white mice, squirrels. I caught in my stocking two lovely flying squirrels, tamed them after sundry sharp bites, and for months carried them about in my pocket to school and everywhere; they became so wedded to the life that they refused freedom; if put on the ground they would chase after me, running up my leg and ensconcing themselves in my pocket.

In winter the ponds, Bliss' , Batty’s, Nettleton’s, and Mill River gave us fine skating, and the trip, Springfield to Hartford on the River, like the swimming across it in summer, entitled a boy to promotion in the esteem of his fellows. I tried it often, succeeded seldom, but fetched up at Thompsonville frequently. Except over the old Springfield bridge and the Howe Railroad bridge, the only means of crossing were ferries, wire ferries - where passengers were expected to work their passage and pay a small fee besides. On one occasion I was a passenger but for some reason declined to do what the ferry man thought my share. The ferry man seized me and ducked me, holding my legs and thrusting my head under water, and on pulling me out saying: "Now! Will you?" On my sputtering negative, he would duck me again over and over again. I just wouldn't and he finally let me go - and I didn't.

I told my father, the fellow was arrested and fined for assault. We had an old white mare "Charlotte," and a good sort she was, and upon whose back I learned equitation at the expense of many a bump and bruise. We boys developed a taste for commerce, kept stores in the woodsheds and barns where the commodities were nuts, apples, popcorn, home-made molasses candy, marbles and other articles of boys trading. Coasting down hill was a favorite sport of course; every boy had a sled with a name printed on it in vivid colors. There were frame and box sleds; races were run and there were favorites, both for speed, distance and jumps. My "Hero" made by a mechanic in the car shop was pretty but not a favorite. Si Sanborn, a carpenter on High Street had the champion; it would carry four boys, or more often, girls, whom "Si" steered to victory, so often that he was voted "Hors du Concourse". Union Hill and Ames Hill were the great rendezvous on holidays, and between school hours. Sliding on sidewalks was prohibited, but the law was frequently ignored. Old Judge Morris, (who lived on Maple Street) - once, as I slid past him in front of his house, caught "Hero" by the near runner and slewed me rolling into the gutter, and justified his action by shaking his fist into my face and crying out that I was a law breaker. I took one moonlight night, my friend Sophy Rice, who lived near us on High Street, out for a coast on Ames Hill. She was very pretty and lots of us were in love with her; I dragged her to the top of that long hill, got my wind - seated her in front, took a run and pushed down the glassy slope, shouting: "Road! Road!" over her shoulder and with my leg and foot stuck out behind, steered the swift running sled; but some rivals in pretty Sophy's affections had jealously placed obstructions in our path, and poor Sophy and I came to grief in a deep snow drift, very much upset in mind, body and estate. I dragged her home again discomforted, and I fear lost forever in her estimation, but vowing vengeance on the authors of the disaster. I "licked" George Dwight the next day, at least I got the better of him as one of the criminals, but found out too late that he had nothing to do with it. So much for circumstantial evidence.

One of my weaknesses was chickens - the keep and care of which occupied me, while the sale of the eggs, always to my mother, caused her even then to surmise that I might become a good business man, as she declared often that my count was in error and always on my side. I think I may have been justly charged with what the boys called hooking apples, when they were ripe and tempting. I am afraid that I once tried to "hook" a chicken. I failed to accomplish my felony, but I honestly tried, with bad luck - as the chicken turned out an old rooster, who squawked so loudly that I dropped him and fled. I had some justification for the attempted larceny, as I claimed the chicken as my own, as having been  seduced by the holder of it to become one of his flock - a fact I am bound to say he denied. We had a disturbance over it, but I never got the chicken, and that boy and I were not friendly.

I was fond of music, managed to thrum a guitar, and strike chords on the piano to accompany my small "repertoire" which my dear mother thought I sang delightfully. This with the foregoing example, may show the sort of a youngster I found myself to be at about the age of twelve and a half years -- when Mr. Parish threshed the nonsense out of me, and I commenced to take a comparatively serious view of things generally.

There lived in Springfield at the time a retired merchant sea Captain, Captain Hatch, who lived in a quaint little cozy cottage on State Street, about where the City Library building now stands. He was a near relative of the George Dwights, and Jim Dwight was one of my most intimate friends and near neighbor. We both, from listening to Captain Hatch's sea yarns, resolved to be sailors, command ships and see the world in all its variety of scenes and climates. Will Orne, a cousin of Jim's did make a voyage somewhere and came home clad in wide spreading blue trousers, a broad sailor hat, and blue flannel shirt, with a most fascinating necktie, tied with a sailor knot, all of which so impressed us, that we resolved most solemnly that the life on the ocean wave was the only vocation worth thinking about. Poor Jim carried out his intention, became a sailor - a mate, and finally did command the fine clipper ship the "Springfield" in the East India trade, sailing out of Boston. He was most cruelly murdered by his Lascar crew on one of his voyages, while still a young man.

Of course my parents wouldn't listen to me when I talked of becoming a sailor, and Jim and I even talked of running off and shipping on some vessel bound somewhere. We learned, from an old stranded sailor in the town, how to tie knots and use a few sailor phrases. Will Orne sympathized and let us rig ourselves up in sailor costume, although we both concluded that he wasn't much of a sailor, and I am inclined to the belief that his only voyage was as a passenger on a ship commanded by a friend of his father for his health. But he could talk "boatswain" fairly well.

However, the bent of my mind was such, that my father who was associated with the Honorable William A Graham, Secretary of the Navy, in building the Seaboard and Roanoke Railroad in Virginia and North Carolina - was promised an appointment for me as a Midshipman in the Navy when I should be old enough to receive it.

This seemed to me the height of all my ambition. My uncle, Joseph Sanford was a Passed Midshipman in the Navy and visited us from time to time in all the splendor of gold lace and gilt buttons. His jaunty self-satisfied air of command, the great favor shown him by the ladies, the wonderful yarns he spun, his travels, voyages, particularly his descriptions of the Islands of the Pacific Ocean and their inhabitants - for he had been a Midshipman on one of the ships of the Wilkes Exploring Expedition, and was a survivor of the wreck of the "Peacock," Captain Hudson - all combined, made him a sort of a demi-god in my eyes, as I would listen, mouth agape, when he talked, and I inwardly swore that I would imitate his example, study hard at school, and when I got the promised appointment, would pass the dreaded preliminary examination and become a Naval officer. This ambition filled my mind, and changed the tenor of my life, so that in many ways I became a sort of model boy - in other words, behaved myself, was promoted to a back seat in the High School, next to the desk of Henry Lee, who was the standard of behavior for the serious minded, worked my way to the confidence of Mr. Parish, contributed to the "Portfolio," the pretty school newspaper, was permitted to inscribe in chalk one of the axioms which adorned the blackboards, in Latin or Greek characters, and generally gave myself airs and assumed a consequence amongst my companions that occasionally was disputed by an appeal to the arbitrament of fists. I continued to play hard in the amusements of the time, and the mischief-making element in the natural composition of a strong, healthy boy was not extinguished, and I know I did many things more or less reprehensible and indulged in pranks incompatible with the newly assumed dignity of a future Nelson. I remember some of them, and even now, if I could, I would raise a blush for the skilful deceit employed in the concealment of them. The time rolled swiftly by; Mr. Graham fulfilled his promise, and in the month of June, 1851, when fourteen years old, I received an appointment as acting Midshipman in the Navy, and was ordered to report myself for examination as to any mental and physical qualifications for this high office at the Naval Academy, Annapolis, Maryland.

Between the ages of ten and fourteen years, that is from 1846 to 1851, our family included Susie, Will, myself, Emilie and James, placed in their order, and may be said to have known each other and have grown up in bonds of great unity and mutual affection.

My sister Susie was the confidant of our youthful transgressions, shielded us when she could, betrayed us never. She helped me in my school tasks, was remarkably proficient in her studies, was always with a book before her, even when curling the two or three long locks which adorned her dear face, she would forget the manual process, pursuing it mechanically, while her mind was lost in her reading or study. She was an excellent Latin scholar, and helped me daily in my set task in that classic commencing "Arma virumque cano". Once I remember her bringing up my stumbling translation with "Jack, you've been smoking!" as a relic of one of Margarum's cinnamon poisons, regaled her sensitive olfactories, consoling me, however, by saying she wouldn't tell. Smoking was principally indulged in by us boys at odd times, more because of its prohibition and the excitement of its secret performance, than for any love of the weed, and was particularly obnoxious to my father who, when we were detected, generally exercised parental authority in the most practical form. I remember that when one of my Saturday afternoon rambles, resulted in the capture of my flying squirrels, I came into the parlor triumphantly showing my prizes, with my cap on, Susie took it off and disclosed the tell tale cigar resting amidst my disordered hair. My squirrels were confiscated, and I retired in confusion to get later what was coming to me.

I cannot fix the date when Susie completed her education at the Spingler Institute, kept by Mr. Abbot, and situated on Union Square, New York, where she formed the acquaintance and established a close friendship with Miss Baker, resulting in her marriage to Mr. Henry M. Baker, her brother, in the year 1852 at Springfield.

I obtained a few days leave from the Naval Academy, attended the wedding, clad in the gorgeous uniform of a Midshipman. It was this leave of absence that was signed by Jefferson Davis, Acting Secretary of the Navy. It was this alliance which led to my long residence in Elizabeth, New Jersey, my business career with J.S. Kennedy and all that has come from it - both to Susie and to myself.

My brother Will entered Yale in 1850, but for the year before he had been at school in Northampton, preparing for college, so that for those years we were somewhat separated, but during our schoolboy days, although he trained with the older set, and our tastes were wholly different, we were close friends - although occasionally differed as boys and brothers will do. Will was good-looking, quite a dandy, and as a boy given to oratory - a decided contrast to me - who was careless in dress and hated declamation. Will was excessively neat; I was of the rough-and-tumble sort, and one Sunday at church, while both of us were reverently bowed during prayers, my constant sniffing disturbed his devotions, and he passed me his nice clean pocket handkerchief; intimating by gesture to use it - which I did most effectually; he received it back most daintily, and I completed my operation with my own clean mouchoir without disturbing its folds, and thought it a fine joke on him, until behind the barn I got much the worse of an encounter which was in the nature of retributive justice. Will was late at our customary family prayers one morning, and taking his chair alongside of mine in the midst of a chapter being read by my father, prompted by the evil spirit, I pulled it out as he quietly sat, landing him hard and sprawling on the floor. My father gave it to me good, after the devotions were over, and Will supplemented the correction by one of his own. However, our disputes and combats were soon mended, and if we did quarrel at times, we were close allies and firmly united when others were concerned.

At Yale, Will won much distinction, became a member of Skull and Bones, was considered the best looking and best dressed man in his class, had a conspicuous career there with an unpleasant ending, which postponed his graduating diploma for several years. After his marriage he went to San Francisco, and after a brilliant career there as a lawyer and public speaker, during which he made and spent fortunes, acquired great popularity and fame, he died July 22, 1902, leaving a widow, his second wife, and two sons.

He had a wonderful memory, and without effort could commit to it accurately and quote in his speeches, long passages from favorite authors, and facts apropos of the subject in hand. He had great, but untrained musical talent, a very pretty parlor voice, and could play by ear any tune he heard, upon the piano. The Annals of the Bohemian Club are replete with his sayings and doings, as its President and active member, as are the newspapers of his time with his eloquent addresses upon public occasions - many of which will be found in my scrap books, as will be the accounts of his life in California, many pictures of him, and the account of his last illness, death and funeral, when the courts adjourned, the stores closed, and the people turned out 'en masse'.

Will had some histrionic talent, and upon one occasion and for the benefit of the Mercantile Library fund, he took the part of Brougham as Elliot Grey in the play, "Rosedale," and with little rehearsal played the part to a crowded house without prompting, singing all the songs, earning for the fund upwards of $25,000, besides the wager of $5,000. The newspapers state that preferred seats sold as high as $250, each, and Brougham stated that his performance was creditable for a stock actor.

On a visit to San Francisco in the Bohemian Club rooms, my attention was called to his card framed, on the walls, which bore this legend:

“I have a felon on my finger, have had it six weeks. It is painful. Expect to have it six weeks more. I have tried your remedy, and it isn't worth a big, big D"

It was explained, that with his hand in a sling, going to his office, friendly inquiries so delayed him, that when stopped he handed this card to his friends and passed on. He was conducting the defense of a suit that had no proper defense; it was a mere question of amount of damages, and involved old Spanish titles to property which Will quoted. The Judge asked him if he read or spoke Spanish. He replied: "No, but I can walk it!" picked up his papers and retired from the case. The jury found a much smaller verdict than demanded, and his client was well satisfied and doubled his fee.

I met at Mr. Haven's one evening, a Mr. Isaac Bromley, a Government director of the Union Pacific Railway. He was my partner in a game of whist; we were introduced, the cards dealt, when laying down his hand, he said: "Did I understand your name is Barnes?"


"Are you a relative of W. H. L. Barnes of San Francisco?"

"Yes, a brother."

"Well, you resemble him. I have just returned from San Francisco. Your brother was a classmate of mine at Yale. I called upon him the other day at his beautiful office; met him just as he was leaving for court and in a hurry. We had not met for forty years. I was introduced by my friend, somewhat chagrined at my reserved welcome; we passed down to the street. I overheard him say to my friend: 'Who did you say he was?' On my name being again mentioned, Barnes stopped, put both hands on my shoulders, and repeated in sonorous intonation, a number of lines of my valedictory speech at Yale, forty years ago, and then said, "There, Ike Bromley, do you think I don't know you now!'"

"Gad!" said Bromley, "what a memory he has!"

Will's career in California was certainly a brilliant one. I have never met a Californian who did not know him. He was the lawyer and counsel for many well known and conspicuous men, in all of the greater law suits affecting corporate rights and properties, received large fees, and had he been frugal or careful, he should have accumulated a large fortune, but he was lavish in his expenditures, never knew the value of money, which he spent as fast as it came to him in all sorts of extravagances, and left little property to his heirs - only the reputation of the most brilliant orator on the Pacific Slope.

My sister Emilie will easily be recalled by all my family. She was as a child, just as a woman, very firm and decided in her ways, manners and speech. She was very young when I left home, but had a mind of her own. On a Sunday morning coming home from church, with new finery, which I undertook to protect from a passing shower, she took my arm under the umbrella. One of the hostile Mill river boys in passing us, jeered at our close connection in terms ironical, at which I retorted with threats of corporal punishment, and Emilie, seizing the umbrella, shouted excitedly: "Go at him Jack; I'll hold the umbrella!" I did go at him, and we had a scrimmage, Emilie dancing around in the rain, urging me, until we were separated by passers by, my Sunday habiliments in a sad state, and Emilie's finery decidedly wet and disordered.

Emilie married Dr. George H. Humphreys of New York, whom she met at Sharon Springs, had a large family of children, and died Oct. 1890. Our mutual lives in New York - close neighbors - were close and intimate. Our children have grown up to man and womanhood together.

Of my younger brother, James, I saw little or nothing during my boyhood, as he was a small child when I started out in my career in life, and later we were never together as companions, as after my father's death, he married and made his home in New Bedford and in Martha's Vineyard, leading a very quiet life in a pretty home by the sea, without occupation, apparently happy and contented, with a moderate patrimony, the administration of which by my father's will, I was named as Trustee - a trust I am happy to say has not diminished, and its income satisfying all the needs of his frugal, but very comfortable life.

James was for a year or two an acting Midship man, at the Naval Academy, but the life was detestable to him and he resigned the appointment. He entered Amherst College - studied law - but never practiced. As a young man he was devoted to athletic sports, became a noted baseball player and an "all-around sportsman". He has never engaged in any business, or professional occupation.

Before abandoning the relation of my boyhood life in Springfield, I feel drawn to giving some account of that town and its people, as I came to know it and the people with whom my family were socially intimate. The town has grown to a large and thriving city, and those whom I knew have almost wholly passed away.

From the time I left it in 1851, my visits there were infrequent and at long intervals, but I kept more or less in touch with the place and our friends and relatives by correspondence with them, until the death of my parents, who continued to live there until 1869 and 1875 - when they died in the old Maple street house, and both were laid to eternal rest in the beautiful cemetery - my father first and my mother later. The lot is under "Perpetual care," and today is the link which binds me to the town, and I occasionally go there and think of them and what I owe to them, with loving memory.

It would be impossible to speak of changes in the town, where everything has been so transformed during the past fifty-eight years, when as a boy I roamed its streets and wandered amongst its wooded adjacent hills. The two principal avenues, Main and State Streets, then were bordered at or about their intersection with the business houses. This locality was known as "Down Street," and when a person was Down Street, it was a close enough description of his locality to enable any one to find him in a few minutes. There were no "blocks" and the business buildings were occasionally of brick - more often of wood, converted from dwellings two stories in height - many only one. Private residences with gardens, alternated on both avenues with the shops - like the old Sergeant house, the Lombard house, the Pynchon house, all on Main Street, North of State. The Hampden house, corner of Main and Hampden Street, was the large Tavern with its Livery Stable back of it, but its reputation was overshadowed by Uncle Jerry Warringer's Tavern with its swinging sign and gallows, which stood on the South West corner or Main and State Streets, an old Colonial structure, painted white, famous the country over for its clean, snow-white beds, its delicious cuisine, its snuggery of a bar, and the jovial hospitality of Uncle Jerry and his helpmate, who were Uncle and Aunt to all guests. The stable ran back on State Street towards the river; on the opposite corner was Merriam's book shop, made famous by the publication of Webster's Unabridged, and brought Springfield itself much renown and honor, and is today a Standard Dictionary. Then going North stood Deacon Sergeant's beautiful old residence - with its garden and a corn field lapping around Merriam's shop and abutting on State Street - the scene of many a boy's combat when school was over and the boys issued from the public school house, where Lawton threshed but did not winnow.  Adjoining the Sergeant farm, next to Deacon Sergeant's going towards the "Depot" was Margerum's cigar and tobacco shop, where he sold vile cinnamon cigars surreptitiously to us boys - that made us sick and manly in secret. Then came a few small shops - Elm Street and Court Square with its noble elm - Old Dr. Osgood's Church and the Court House on its west; the Hampden House and stables to the north.

Dr. Osgood was a School Commissioner. He was a big, strong, white-haired, and intensely Orthodox Congregationalist preacher, but sufficiently liberal to permit Jenny Lind to sing her simple melodies in his church, where I heard her warble "Home, Sweet Home" to the largest assembly ever seen in Springfield, who no doubt were as much edified by her songs as by the good Doctor's anathemas against the ungodly. From Court Square to the "Depot" I cannot recall a single building devoted to business purposes - on either side of Main Street - Here were the Pynchon, the Lombard, and other houses and gardens on the west, until you reached the present site of the "Massasoit", occupied and kept for a time by the Warriners', whose old tavern had given place to the hardware shop of Homer Foote and Co. Here I saw and heard address a crowd of listeners, the Honorable Daniel Webster, introduced by Honorable George Ashmun, our Congressman, and the special friend and defender of Webster against the attacks of his political enemies. I stood just beneath him with my father who personally knew and greatly admired him, and to whom he owed his appointment as Cadet at the West Point Military Academy. I can see him in my mind's eye as clearly as though it were yesterday, even to the awkward crease in his wrongly buttoned blue swallow-tailed coat and its shining brass buttons, his buff waistcoat, blue trousers, high stock and rumpled collar. His rotund figure projected slightly as he leaned against the iron rail of the balcony fronting Main Street. His air and demeanor were majestic, as the sentences rolled out with commanding gestures and increasing emphasis. What he said I cannot remember, except it was upon the subject of some political controversy then agitating the public mind, but the personality of the man has never left me, and as a boy I wondered if he noticed my shrill applause.

The old Depot - I saw it burn up - a rather ungainly wooden structure, with a belfry and bell, two flanking square towers - and witnessed the bell and roof fall in, carrying with it a few members of Mr. Dwight's fire engine company - The "Niagara," and - the "Ocean" company.

Beyond the Depot, going North, there were farms - corn and buckwheat fields, small farmhouses, and humble working men's little cottages sprinkled about. South of the intersection of Main and State Street there were few shops, and on both sides of the street were plain, comfortable residences.

On the East side of Main Street, between State Street and the Railroad, the principal shops were in this order: On the corner the Hardware store of Homer Foote & Co.; the Jewelry store of Kirkham, and the Grocery - wholesale and retail - of Edwards & Co., after the Brothers Gunn, in which Billy Edwards of Cleveland was the head clerk - this store running from Main to Sanford Street, was the rendezvous of the "Principal citizens."

Here, Mr. Ashmun, the Dwights, Colonel Thompson, the Express Agent for Harnden's Express and of Militia fame, Mr. Orne and other congenial souls, met daily, took their toddies, discussed politics and the questions of the day; then came a succession of shops: Brewer's drug store, a dry goods store, smaller grocery and miscellaneous stores up to Harrison Avenue and the old Baptist Church. Then came the "Dwight lot," afterwards the "Barnes lot" - a field of ten or more acres, running from Main to Chestnut Street. Here circus and menagerie tents were pitched, fireworks exhibited, and cows pastured. It was originally owned by Mr. William Dwight, who sold it to my father for the sum of twenty thousand dollars, receiving my father's note for the purchase price. Many thought my father crazy to give such a huge sum for so unproductive a piece of meadow. Many years later when, as my father's executor, I went over the accounts of the operation it showed profits from sales, of several hundreds of thousands of dollars, to the benefit of the several estates of the Barnes Brothers. My father, very early, became satisfied that Springfield had a future, and enlisting the pecuniary assistance of his half brothers, David and Hillman, they bought many tracts of land in and about Springfield, laid out streets through them, built upon some of them - notably the building called to this day and wearing over its entrance, carved in stone the name, "Barnes Block." For many years all their purchases were made and stood in the name of my father, but at his and his half brothers' death, the property after some litigation was divided under a decree of the Court between their heirs, so that the patrimony of us children was largely owing to these early purchases made by our father.

State Street, the other principal avenue, ran from the old "Bee Hive" on the river to the armory on the Hill - below Main Street except as stated, the houses were few and far between. Above Main Street the street was bordered by residences - a few churches and the jail. The hill was crowned by the armory buildings and the vicinity occupied by the operatives and Government employees - who were generally called the "Hillers" and with whom our acquaintance was slight, and the boys of the locality a separate race, generally at war with the boys below.

I fancy that every New England village has a few stuck-up people who think themselves a little better off, a little more refined, a little better educated, who wear better clothes, eat better cooked food, keep servants, horses for pleasure driving, entertain their friends, and generally have leisure and some money invested in lands or stocks, than the greater mass of the inhabitants, who work for a living. If such conditions constituted an "aristocracy" in Springfield, they would be found on Chestnut and Maple Streets, which met at State Street, and ran about parallel with Main, on the higher ground. These streets were occupied wholly as residence of what for want of a better and more democratic name, constituted the "fashionable people" of Springfield. Whatever name we may give them, they formed a social circle of their own. At all events, it was with them that our family intercourse was most intimate, and it is with them, men, women and boys, that I grew up and flourished. As I passed through these streets the other day, with one or two exceptions, all the old houses had given place to new ones, and not a single one was occupied by any descendant of their owners in my time. Our old house was one of the exceptions; there it stood exactly as it did more than sixty-five years ago. More than that, its interior which its present occupant kindly permitted me to visit, remained exactly as it was when I lived in it as a boy and visited it as a man. I could have gone all over it blindfolded. The grounds, too, were the same, the trees grown to immense size, while the garden and lawns seemed smaller to my old than to my youthful eyes. But all around the street was unrecognizable - a trolley runs through it, winding its way, I know not whither. A stately mansion occupied the ground of the old Orne House. The John Dwight lot where we boys played foot and other ball, was covered with closely built, handsome [        ] houses, and where I was well known and knew everybody, I was a stranger in a strange land. Who were those people who have thus disappeared? The Chapins, the Bliss’; the Dwights, George, Fred, Theodore; the Howards, John and Charles; the Ornes; the Phelps, the Ames, the Edwards, the Morrises, the Days, the Bowles, the Souls, the Hardings, the Kings, the Stearnes, the Childs, the Rumrills, the Footes, Stebbins, Merricks, Briggs, Gunns, Wares, Voses, Beechs, Brewers, Ripleys, and our own family and its connections: Mrs. Clarke, Mrs. Emmerson, Mrs. Bainbridge, sisters of my mother, who came to us and made Springfield their home. Not one, not a descendant of any of them are now so far as I know, living in the city which knows their names only from tradition. It would interest me to describe the appearance and social life of the Maple Street and Chestnut Street residents, as they appeared to me as a lad, and as I came to know them later, and thus lose my own identity in the identification of others. It might also interest present Springfield to have them recalled, but I must go forward with "chronicling the small beer" of my own little performances, taking it up when, with my appointment as Midshipman in my pocket and full of self-importance, I left Springfield  as a resident, and with my father started on the tremendous journey to Annapolis, there to display my person and my acquirements before the awful Board of Examination of Candidates. On reaching New York City, for the first time, overcome by its magnificence, we put up at the St. Nicholas Hotel, where in order to give me practice, my father directed me to enter our names in the Guests' book at the office, in which in a good round hand I wrote "John S. Barnes, U.S. Navy and Father" which somehow seemed to amuse the clerk.


We reached Annapolis in good time, found there a lot of youths with similar aspirations, awaiting the ordeal, the result of which would either enroll them upon the list of the defenders of the country, or restore them to the bosoms of their families. After a day or two looking about the Academy and quaint old town, picking up what information was obtainable as to the requirements, my turn came. There were 104 candidates for entry that year, 1851. The standard was rather low, suited to the intelligence of boys of my age, who were gathered from all parts of the country, from Maine to Florida, and was confined to an oral and partly written series of questions, involving some knowledge of reading, writing, spelling, arithmetic, geography and history.

The examinations were principally conducted by Professor Chauvenet and Mr. Jos. E. Nourse, although the other members of the Academic Board were present and occasionally "butted in" as we thought, more to show what they knew than to find out what we did. From the experiences of some of the boys who had preceded me, I was rather self confident, and in my heart of hearts I blessed Mr. Parish and Miss Bliss, and rather hoped that I would be given larger opportunity to air my accomplishments. I read a few paragraphs at random from a book, I wrote a few sentences from dictation on the blackboard, which contained several catch words in orthography that had been drilled into us by Mr. Parish, was asked to name the Capitals of the Middle States and bound them, the Capitals of the European countries and bound them, the principal rivers and lakes and seas of the world, the names of the Presidents of the United States, in their order; I rather flunked on this, and got Madison and Monroe mixed up, but made up for it in fact by my  intimate acquaintance with the Caesars and other Roman Emperors, and knowing who Cornwallis and Burgoyne were, and telling with more or less truthfulness, some of the occasions in which we got the better of the British in the war of 1812. Then the dreaded Mr. Chauvenet took a slap at me.

I didn't know it then, that he was a very distinguished mathematician, but his manner and appearance was more formidable, as he asked the simplest questions in elementary arithmetic, gave me rows of figures to write down, to add, subject, multiply and divide, with always the "Why do you do this and that?" and finding out if I had been grounded in the principles of numeration. I gained confidence and learned something from him as he led me on - and he dropped me after simple sums in proportion, and pointing of decimals, with "That will do Mr. Barnes" - the first time I was ever dignified by the title of "Mister." I grabbed my cap and walked out as proud as a peacock; as I passed Professor Hopkins - who by the way was a Professor at West Point when my father graduated there and signed his certificate of graduation, as he did mine later - he stopped me an instant and said "You can tell your father that you have passed!" which announcement I did not fail to make to him with some satisfaction, as he was a little skeptical of my attainments.

I was passed on to the tender mercies of the Board of Surgeons, presided over by Dr. Ninian Pinkney, was made to strip to the buff, punched, slapped, stethescoped, my eyes tested, my teeth examined, and otherwise maltreated, and then ignominiously pushed into an adjoining room, told to dress myself and clear out, which I lost no time in doing. That night I slept in the old armory barrack, called "Rowdy Row," was hazed by a lot of roistering "Oldsters," and found out that an Acting Midshipman in the Navy was not of superlative importance in that community if he was called "Mister" by men old enough to be his grandfather.

My good father, on leaving me, remarked: "Well, Jack, it's all very well to have got in here, but the thing is to stay here," and I vowed I'd try, and I did. After going through the usual trimming at drills and exercises, and surviving the hazing of the "Oldsters," I settled down to work, studied hard and generally behaved myself, so that at the end of the first term - that is from September to February - I found myself well up in my class, in the first "sections" in all branches, and had avoided demerit marks.

This year, 1851 - was the first trial of the new scheme of education of Naval Cadets, on the plan of the West Point Military Academy. Heretofore, the Midshipman came to the Academy or to the Naval asylum, went through a few months' instruction, and then were ordered to join some ship in foreign service for a few years' cruise, picking up such education as was possible from a ship's school master or chaplain, in addition to the practical part of their profession as seamen. Then they returned to the Academy for a year, and then examined for promotion to Passed Midshipmen. These were the "Oldsters."

The new Academy scheme caused a great dearth in the number of "Young gentlemen" whom the older officers deemed so important to the ship's service, that they complained that to withdraw all appointments from active service afloat for four years would be disastrous.

Thereupon, after the February examination, it was determined by the Secretary of the Navy, Mr. Dobbin, that those members of the class of 1851, who could pass an examination in June, 1852 - the standard to be fixed by the academic board - should be called the "Advanced Class," and finish their course in three instead of four years.

Here was a prize worth working for: To become a real Midshipman, exchange the round jacket for the swallow-tailed coat, gold band on cap, and row of buttons on sleeve, which adorned the Oldsters - to be a real officer and order men about, was the ambition of my life, and to skip a long year of school, was no small consideration and incentive. When the June examination was held I presented myself as a candidate for the preferment, with many others. Six of us succeeded: Selfridge, Miler, Todd, Cain, Stribling, Barnes, and thereafter we were the first and only Advanced Class, and were the first graduates of the United States Naval Academy, and the first to receive a regular "Certificate of Graduation." Indeed, we received two - the first in Mr. Nourse's chirography, most beautifully written on a sheet of blue letter paper, signed by the academic board, and later when the Certificate was engraved and printed on parchment, headed by Professor Seager's drawing of the Recitation Hall and the "Preble," we received this more permanent recognition of our merit.

Of this "Advanced Class," all have passed away except Selfridge and myself. Cain, perhaps the genius of the class, died early of yellow fever on the sloop "Falmouth;" Todd died of consumption at his home; Stribling joined the Confederacy and perished on the Confederate States Ship "Florida" at Pensacola also of yellow fever, and Rear-Admiral Miller died recently in Orange, New Jersey, full of years and honor. Selfridge, after long years of very active service in Peace and War, still lives in Boston, a Rear-Admiral on the retired list, while still to the fore, after a varied life, in and out of the Navy. I am writing about our young days as Naval students in the old Academy - for we were rivals, each man or boy, struggling for the head of the small class, from start to finish.

The three years at the Academy were years of hard work, and little play for all of us - broken by the annual practice cruise on the "Preble" from June until September. We had no alternate leave of absence as did the others of our date. From 74 who entered [several]  had been weeded out by failures at examinations and dismissals, and at the end of the four years few remained.

The two cruises in the "Preble" were not exactly yachting trips. We were constantly at sea, visiting for a few days only, the Azores, Madeira, Cape de Verde Islands. All the duties of seamen were exacted of us, and we were fed and clad like them, enjoyed the same privileges, subject to the same discipline. Only two able seamen in each watch were stationed in the several Tops, at the wheel there was a quartermaster with a youngster. We were taught to hand, reef and steer, and compelled to do it when occasion required, "blow high, blow low," alongside of the few Topmen. We "lashed and carried" and scrubbed our own hammocks, holy stoned and scrubbed decks and bright work, were regularly quartered at the guns, practiced at the target, and at all the evolutions of a ship's company required by the changing weather, reefing and furling sails, handling spars, and rigging day or night. The safety of the ship depended upon the brawn and muscles and activities of her youthful crew.

A certain portion of each day was devoted to instruction in practical navigation; the use of the Sextant, the azimuth compass, charts, plotting the ship's course and daily positions. If there were any part of a sailor's education that was neglected, I cannot recall it - from knotting a rope yarn to taking a time sight. The youngsters were kept at it early and late, every day of the three months' cruise.

When visiting the few ports at which the practice ship anchored we had our liberty days in quarter watches, and given a few dollars out of our pay for spending money. Some of the boys with generous parents would cut a figure on horseback and indulge in luxuries with appetites sharpened by the ship's diet of government rations, when bean soup and "salt horse" were the standbys.

At Vera Cruz, on the Grand Canary Island, I crossed to Oratava on a camel, and in company with Mr. Buckner and several other of the officers and instructors ascended the Peak of Teneriffe, and wrote an account of my adventures, which was printed in the "Portfolio," the High School Periodical of Springfield - my first appearance as an author. Its editors, my old school fellows, thought it fine enough to merit an editorial comment, which made me hold my head up, and think I could write a book. It wasn't very bad; it is amongst my scrapbook collections; anyone wanting to know how the Island and the Peak looked in 1852, can find out all about it if they will take the trouble to read it.

During the first practice ship cruise, we numbered about seventy or eighty youngsters, swung in rows of hammocks on the berth deck at night, the half of our number keeping more or less vigilant watch on deck - generally less - as when there was no work going on, those of us not at stations, in fine weather "caulked it" coiled up in halliard racks or under any convenient lee     . Our "Advanced Class" were shown some favors, were made Gun Captains, held the trumpet for a few minutes, and made to give the orders for tacking and wearing ship, with an officer at our elbow, were charged with the discipline of the mess at meal times, and exercised generally the functions of petty officers amongst our kind, and no doubt gave ourselves some unpopular pretentious airs, which brought on misunderstandings, settled by fistcuffs - a favorite and not infrequent argument of the day all through my career at the Academy - where scarcely a week passed without a square stand-up fight between two boys who thought it the best way to settle a dispute over any question. Arbitration and Peace congresses amongst boys in training for War were not thought of, and most of us were ready to fight at the drop of the hat - and few 'insults' were passed without consequential bloody noses and black eyes.

My roommate, during my three years at the Academy was Alexander Crosman, who, a Lieutenant, was drowned in the surf off Ponta Arrenas on the coast of Nicaragua. Alec was the son of Colonel Crosman of the army, a classmate of my father at West Point, and between them it was arranged that we should be roommates, when we first entered the Academy, and were permitted to select our housekeeping companion. From Rowdy Row we moved up to a room on the second story of the new barrack building, and there for three years we studied together, at least I did - for Alec didn't take kindly to books, and loved mischief of all sorts - although he had a bright mind, and when he chose could conquer any task before him. He was rather undersized but strong and sturdy, quick tempered, like most small sized men, and ready to resent what he thought to be an imposition, because he was small. He often bore upon his handsome person some evidences of conflict - always honorable scars, for he had more courage than discrimination, and would fight a boy twice his size more readily than one nearer his equal. We had several set-to's, and I know whereof I speak that he was as desperate a little fighter as I ever encountered during my rather pugnacious boyhood. We always 'made up' however, and all his life were firm friends. His premature death, brought on by his bold, chivalric spirit was a loss to the service and a grief to his many friends.

Alec had a natural tendency for sport. The great flocks of wild ducks which fed and swam upon the Severn river in winter had a fascination for him, and he yearned to be after them, as they flew by or rested within plain sight and often within range of us. He cribbed a musket from the armory, and as powder monkey at great gun drill in the battery, possessed himself of a cartridge, and brought his trophies to our room one evening before taps, hiding them beneath his mattress. Of course this was high misdemeanor, and as I was superintendent of the room, I would be held as responsibile for it as he, even more so. I protested, therefore, most vigorously, and I argued so succcessfully against his being able to use the musket and the powder, and not be caught at it, that he abandoned the project, and agreed to throw the big bag of powder into the river and return the musket to its rack. He left with the powder under his coat, at about midnight, to go to the round house, and returned presently and turned in. Immediately there was a tremendous explosion, followed by the alarm of fire. All hands turned out, the little fire engine was manned, and amidst great rejoicing we witnessed the conflagration and absolute destruction of the abominable round house in the rear of the barracks, making only a show of activity in the attempt to extinguish the flames.

When all was over, and Alec and I were once more abed, I accused him of the charming use he had made of the powder. He only grunted and said "Going to sleep."

The next morning at breakfast formation, when all hands were drawn up on the sidewalk, hungry and eager, Captain L. M. Goldsborough, the superintendent - with a book under his arm, walked up and down the ranks with huge strides, eyeing us with a most ferocious expression, then stopped and in a stentorian voice, expressed his sentiments upon the crime committed the night before, read the articles of war bearing upon such actions, and called for the perpetrators to step up like men and acknowledge themselves the guilty ones, and thus save the honor of the class. There was no response. He then called upon any man who knew the perpetrators to come forward - No response - although he asserted most vehemently that upholding such knowledge was equivalent to the offense, and the punishment of death applied to them as well, and that he surely would bring them to trial. His adjurations and threats were of no avail, and we were finally permitted to march to our grub.

Now, Alec, with other accomplishments, for wasting valuable time, occasionally indulged himself with what he called poetry, and spent many study hours in composing doggerel, which he pestered me with reading aloud, and would manifest regret that I was unable to appreciate the beauty of his sentiments expressed in rhyme, but I was deeply impressed, when after several evenings had passed, after the conflagration, during which Alec was unusually studious, he produced the following Heroic:

         “Young gentlemen assembled, it makes no matter where,
           I only want to speak to you, so hear me where you are;
          A vile Incendiary last night was prowling round,
          Set fire to our Round House and burned it to the ground.
          I'll read the Naval Law; the man who dares to burn
          A Round House, not the enemies, a Traitor's fate shall learn
          And if a man there be who does this Traitor know
          And keep it to himself, he shall suffer death also.
          ‘Tis well then, to tell then who did this grievous ill,
          For damn him, I'll hang him, so help me God I will!”

[Long pause, Midshipmen tremble, the Commodore
glares and waves the Articles of Law over his head
with windmill arms. Corn bread and coffee getting

          "What! No one speaks, and can it then be said
           That midshipmen and officers within these walls are bred
           Who set on fire round houses when everybody's in bed.
          'Tis well then, to tell then who did this grievous ill,
           For damn him I'll hang him, so help me God I will!"

There was more of the same effusion which I cannot remember.

Commodore Goldsborough was shown this poetry by Dick Chase, his secretary, and laughed uproariously over it - after all it was not much of a parody on his eloquence.

Crosman graduated, made a splendid officer, and had as gallant a soul in that little body as ever a man had.

Another of my intimate friends at the Academy was Phil Porcher of South Carolina, who with Graham, roomed opposite to us. I have now a daguerreotype of him and Graham in their uniform, with the forbidden cigar in their mouths, taken in Annapolis, in 1853. Phil graduated a year after me, and although we kept up a desultory correspondence, I never saw him, until the year Lincoln was elected President, and Phil came to Albany where I was then practicing law, and made me a short visit.

He was very down-hearted, said he loved the service, but if South Carolina left the Union he must follow her fortunes and leave the Navy, and knew not what on earth he could do, or could find to do for a living. Neither of us dreamed of the war that came. He did find employment, poor fellow, in the Confederate Navy. I met him in a flag of truce boat off Charleston a few months later. We looked at each other kindly, but neither spoke, and a few months later he perished in the wreck of a blockade runner as related in Scharf's History of the Confederate Navy.

He was a gentle, loving soul, generous and kind in word, thought and deed.

There were many of the youngsters who were at the Academy in my time who attained distinction and high rank in the Navy. Sicard, Mathews, Dewey and others, upon whose careers I should like to dwell, and who may come up in the course of this narrative, and there are a great many incidents of my student life there which would be more appropriate to a sketch of the Naval Academy as it was, the systems pursued there and the results obtained in the character and professional ability of its graduates, as compared with the previous methods of education which produced the older officers, who were the captains during the war of '61 on both sides, and the captains who figured in our late disturbance with Spain. The ships and the men are all changed now, and are and will be judged by a wholly different standard.

I graduated at the Academy in the year 1854, and was at once ordered for duty as a full fledged Midshipman, to the U.S. Steam frigate "San Jacinto," Captain C. K. Stribling, father of my classmate - then fitting out in Philadelphia for a cruise in European waters, principally in the Baltic sea, the active scene of the war between England and Russia. After a brief visit to Springfield, I duly reported for duty to the venerable Commodore Charles Stewart, almost the sole survivor of the heroes of the War of 1812, who then was Commandant of the Philadelphia Navy Yard. He was then a bent, crippled old man, feeble, and with dimmed eyesight, utterly unfitted by the infirmities of age for any active duty. He received me kindly, but with some rather slighting remarks upon the new system of making Navy Officers, of which I was the first specimen he had seen - as Midshipmen had been scarce for several years. I was turned over to the executive of the "San Jacinto," Lieutenant Overton Carr, and immediately put to work at the onerous but insignificant duties of my rank. Of course Captain Stribling took no notice of me.

While the ship was fitting out I improved the few opportunities I had on shore, to visit the family of Commodore Bainbridge, whose widow was still living, and a lovely, beautiful old lady she was. A nephew and adopted son of the old Commodore had married my mother's sister, Mary, and was known to me as Uncle Henry Bainbridge, Lieutenant- colonel of the Fourth Infantry - a Mexican war hero, and the object of my intense admiration. Here I met for the first time my wife, Susan Bainbridge Hayes, the granddaughter of Commodore Bainbridge, daughter of Captain Thomas Hayes, formerly of the Navy, and Susan Bainbridge, the Commodore's oldest daughter. Captain Hayes was also the grandnephew of Commodore John Barry, of the Revolutionary Navy.

Mrs. Hayes, as well as all the Bainbridge family living in Philadelphia, received me very cordially. The house in Walnut Street, the home of Mrs. Bainbridge, was always open to me, and there I also met Captain and Mrs. Hoff, she the youngest of the Commodore's daughters.

The "San Jacinto" sailed for Southampton, England on the 10th day of August 1854. I was placed in the watch of Lieutenant Frank Murray, one of the best officers in the service, a fine seaman and a gentleman, to whom I owe much in the way of considerate kindness throughout the cruise.

At this time our navy was composed almost wholly of sailing ships. The "San Jacinto," "Saranac" and the "Princeton," sister ships, being the largest of the screw propellers in our Navy, and the "Mississippi," "Powhattan" and "Susquehanna" being side wheelers of a type that had no superiors in any service. All the steamers - propeller and side wheel, were full rigged ships, heavily sparred and manned by full crews of the old type of sailor.

The propellers were auxiliary steamers, depending mostly upon sails, using steam only on entering and leaving harbors; on gaining an offing, triced up the screw into the well, and cruised under sail. Under steam the highest rate of speed attainable was from six to eight knots. Against sea and wind the "San Jacinto" could just keep steerage way, and in gales not that. Her battery consisted of six 9-inch guns in broadside and 10-inch pivots on bow and stern. Her complement or crew - 250 men and 20 officers. Altogether she was a formidable ship of her class, but defective workmanship, and model of engine, made her inefficient, and constant breakdowns shortened her cruise.

After clearing the Capes of the Delaware, we encountered a strong gale from the Eastward, against which the ship strove for several days, developing such weakness of engine, leaks of hull, and sprung spars, that the ship was headed for Boston, the nearest port for needed repairs. Here they were after delays accomplished, and we again started for our destination.

I made a visit to Springfield of two days, displaying my resplendant uniform of a Middy, which gave me a consequence amongst my acquaintances there, somewhat compensating for the indifference with which it was regarded in the larger sea port towns. I fancy I made the most of it, and strutted about a little, an object of awe  and envy of my old school fellows. Our immediate neighbors and most intimate friends were the John Howard family, Miss Eliza Howard, a tall handsome woman, perhaps overcome by my martial appearance, confided to me a great secret, unknown outside her immediate family: That she was engaged to be married to Baron Stoeckle, the Russian Ambassador, enlisting my sympathies for Russia in the war then existing, and for the theatre of which I boasted I was bound. I fear I made promises of correspondence with her, never fulfilled, rather inconsistent with the proper neutrality of a neutral Middy - when I should cast my professional eye upon the British Fleet in the Baltic, and where Sir Charles Napier was preparing to board with sharpened cutlasses the Chronstadt forts.

Another incident of this Springfield visit was my inroad upon the Howard family circle, in solemn conference, over the astounding revelation just communicated that Miss Marguerite had been married to Charley Swift, the son of Captain Swift, who,as  the husband of Hannah Howard, was her brother-in-law! a mixed-up relationship, truly - I saw at once that I was one too many in that assembly, and without then knowing the reason of the general dismay, I beat a hasty retreat. Once before, while a student at Annapolis, I had displayed my gorgeous habiliments at my sister Susie's wedding, but although I made a rather effective stage impression then, it does not remain so clearly in my memory as to that produced by my person on these two days when I was dressed for war - between other folks.

My dear mother was very proud of me - or of my clothes, but my father, with perhaps a clearer appreciation, seemed rather indifferent and cut my comb now and then with caustic remarks, reflecting upon the dignity of Midshipmen generally.

The "San Jacinto" once more started for England and arrived in Southampton water in the autumn of 1854, and anchored off the beautiful ruins of Netley Abbey. The voyage was uneventful - just the usual amount of good and bad weather, through which we lumbered along under canvass mainly.
My duties as Midshipman in Lieutenant Murray's watch, consisting in heaving the log, marking the log slate, relieving the lookouts, calling reliefs, mustering the watch, running errands and making myself useful. Todd was ill most of the passage, and all the cruise, he grew more and more incapable of active work or exposure. The old Passed Midshipmen, Wilson and Hamilton, occasionally took the deck, but on regular watch were "Masters Mates of the forecastle" as the officer who had temporary charge of that end of the ship was called. I think both were about forty years of age, and had grown gray and bald in steerages. Phyffe and Heileman were "Oldsters" at the Academy during my student days there. Phyffe was on the forecastle in my watch, when I was planking the quarter deck or the waist. Wilson was not a good example, had too great a liking for strong waters and was cashiered for it. Hamilton was a South Carolinian, entered the Confederate service, lived mostly in London and died there. Heileman committed suicide, also a victim of rum.

Phyffe, of whom more anon, was one of the 'characters' of the Navy, and has left his mark in all Naval circles of his time. He was eccentric and original. Should I tell all the queer, funny things he said and did on this cruise, the relation would fill many pages; other stories about him during his career would make a book.

He was tall, robust, with an immense chest, which he could swell out like a balloon; his features betrayed an Indian descent, of which he was proud. With all his peculiarities he was a good officer, attentive to duty, bold and energetic in his rather dramatic way. The only complaint I had against him was, that he insisted upon calling me "Johnny."

The Earl of Fife, seeing his name so spelt in an English newspaper, giving a list of our officers, wrote him, asking as to his forebears in America, as at some distant period one of his family had emigrated to this country. Phyffe read his reply to us in the steerage, in which he gave his pedigree, going back to the Aborigines, and including the names of Indian Chiefs in supposed dialect, which as he feared the Earl was not a linguist, he translated into "Big Painter," "Little Wolf," "He-Didn't-Know-It-Was-Loaded," &c., &c. This ended the correspondence.

Two other of my mess mates in the steerage were Louis P. Henop and Mr. Mitchell, the former Captain Stribling's clerk, and the latter Purser's clerk. Henop, a nice boy, always seasick in rough weather, and who couldn't get rid of the notion that we found time by heaving the log. His daughter, now Mrs. Tytus, is now living in Tyringham, near us in Lenox, and one of my daughter's intimates.

Mitchell and I had early a difference settled by combat in the steerage to the joy of beholders, and for which I suffered a black eye and two days suspension. Lieutenant Carr who investigated the disturbance, thought Mitchell had had enough.

Lieutenant Carr, our first Lieutenant and the Executive, was a chubby, fussy, active little man, always on the jump, good natured and a fair seaman.

Lieutenant Herndon was one of the scientific officers of the Navy, a scholar, and distinguished as an Explorer of the Amazon River, and later for heroic conduct, when in command of the steamer "Central America," he went down in the ship, after seeing that every woman and child were safe in the ship's boats and were finally rescued. A monument to his memory erected at the Naval Academy, commemorates his devotion.

Abey, was our sailing master. "Judge" Abey was a good officer, and most careful and capable navigator. He took great interest in us youngsters, and from him I learned that was of the greatest practical use to me.

Lieutenant Beaumont, genial, jolly and good-natured, looked upon the pleasant side of everything and everybody. Deeply pockmarked from smallpox, it hardly disfigured his handsome face.

Old Purser Buchanan - they were proud of the title in those days - was a brother of Captain Franklin Buchanan of "Monitor" and "Merrimac" fame. I can only say of him that he paid us our stipend regularly, never advanced us a penny, and wore a wig.

Captain Stribling was an old acquaintance, having been Superintendent of the Academy in 1851 - 2- 3, and to his influence I owed my orders to his ship. He was imperious, sharp and nervous to a degree; kept largely to himself and the seclusion of his cabin, rarely appeared on deck, never gave an order aloud, was not a favorite, either forward or aft. Except to reprimand me for some real or supposed dereliction, I do not remember his ever speaking to or taking any notice of me - or of any of the steerage denizens.

The chief engineer was Mr. Joshua Follansbee who attained distinction in his profession, but with whom our intercourse was slight. His first assistant Alban C. Stimers, I have reason to remember. We of the starboard steerage were in rather close contact with the Engineers' mess on the port side. He ultimately acquired national notoriety, if not reputation, in connection with Mr. Ericsson and the Monitor type of ironclads; was at the starting bar in the "Monitor" and Merrimac" fight, and claimed but was not accorded, to be the principal hero of that engagement, after Worden was taken below. This claim and correspondence, added to physical complications, had much to do with the self destruction of poor Dana Green, who actually succeeded Worden in command, and fought the fight to a finish. I didn't fancy Mr. Stimers, nor did any one, but I refrain from comments upon his appearance and character, as my all too pugnacious spirit brought us into a hard fought battle, egged on by his messmates and my own, extending over both steerages, and was the occasion of another interview with Captain Stribling. We never "made up," although we met frequently during the war, but did not speak as we passed by.

Having now polished off the various principal officers of the "San Jancinto," let me go ahead with our cruise.

Southampton water was covered with ships of war, transports and vessels, most of them concerned in the war in the Crimea and the Baltic. After coaling we started for the Baltic Sea, our destination being Copenhagen or Stockholm. It was late in the season. Sir Charles Napier, after great promises of activity had failed to make any impression upon the Russians at Chronstadt, while the combined forces in the Crimea were suffering terrible hardships at the siege of Sebastopol.

On entering the Baltic Sea, we met some of the British fleet, forced out of the Russian waters by inclement weather and ice - amongst them the Flag Ship "Duke of Wellington," the most magnificent ship of war I have ever laid eyes on. I shall never forget the impression upon my youthful mind, when I entered her lower gun deck and carried an official communication to the cabin door of her captain. Her lofty sides, bristling with guns, her towering masts and immense wide-spreading spars, her teeming population filled me with awe, more acute, I think than that of the Sandwich Islanders at the apparition of Captain Cook's "Discovery" - I had clambered up the sides of our old "Pennsylvania," "North Carolina" and "Ohio," not insignificant in their way, but they were dwarfed into coasters, when compared with this wonderful Auxiliary Screw Line of Battle Ship in commission for service.

We did not get the permissions desired: this with the coming winter weather, caused us to put about for return to English ports. Here we encountered a gale and steaming up against it, a heavy shock or concussion, accompanied by racing of the engine, gave token of the loss of one or more blades of our three-bladed screw.

We reached anchorage at Spithead in the midst of the British fleet, and soon got under way again for Southampton waters. It was decided, after some official correspondence with our legation at London - James Buchanan, then Minister to the Court of St. James, and the Admiralty office, that we could go into Dry Dock at Southampton, and ascertain the extent of our injuries. As a condition precedent, we were required to discharge, powder shells and crew, to receive which the Admiralty ordered the British frigate "Fox" named after the famous Statesman, Charles Fox, to be placed at our disposal to receive our ammunition, crew, etc., while the "San Jacinto" should be in Dock. The "Fox" was towed around from Portsmouth, anchored alongside, and the transfer accomplished. This done the "San Jacinto" was docked. One blade of the screw was gone flush with the hub.

Our life on the "Fox" was rather uncomfortable. She was an old teak-built frigate, recently returned from her last cruise in the East Indies, and was infested with vermin. We didn't mind the enormous rats, but the hugh tarantulas or spiders, awakened from torper by the warmth of occupation, were alarming and dreaded. They were as large as the hand, black, with red spots covered with hairy bristles. It gave one a start to see them creep out of their hiding places within a few inches of one's nose, as he lay in his berth.

Doctor Fox secured a few of them, bottled them in spirits, and used to show them to the curious in such things.

While negotiations with shipbuilders were going on, for replacing our damaged screw, certain events transpired which put a stop to that work; the "San Jacinto" was hauled out of dock, received her stores and crew, and made ready for sea. During the intervals, we often saw the steam yacht "Fairay" with Queen Victoria on board, passing to and from Osborne House, Isle of Wight to Southampton and London. She was a beautiful vessel and when she hove in sight, with the Royal standard flying, we would man yards, dip colors and salute in accustomed fashion. I saw her at close range several times on the landing dock; she was a motherly, stout, rather red-faced lady, simply dressed, and hardly what would be called Queenly in general appearance. Prince Albert, who invariably accompanied and stood by her side, was a remarkably handsome man. He was not a favorite with the people, owing to a supposed assumption of some right to meddle with affairs of State - which the people thought were none of his business. He had shown a disposition to interfere, in his advice to the Queen with the conduct of the War.

The affair which abruptly put an end to the repairs to our ship, was the result of what is known as the Ostend Conference, which had under consideration the subject of the purchase of the Island of Cuba from Spain by the United States. Pierre Soule, our Minister to the Court of Madrid, attended this conference, and when he sought to return to his post, he was forbidden by order of Louis Napoleon, Emperor of France, to pass through France.

He came to London to consult with Mr. James Buchanan.  Diplomatic correspondence ensued, the result being the rescinding of the order, with apologies. It was thereupon determined that the "Amende honorable" should be made as public as was the insult; that Mr. Soule, should proceed to Paris, thence to Bordeaux, and there to be received with all honor, after exchange of national salutes, by the "San Jacinto," and conveyed to Coruna, Spain, passing thence to Madrid.


In pursuance of this programme, we left Southampton on the day of 7th Nov. bound for Bordeaux, arriving at that beautiful city after a stormy voyage of 11 days. The passing up the Gironde and Garonne Rivers, was the most delightful experience of the voyage. Our ship was the largest and drew more water than any ship that had ever passed through the narrow upper stream. Our coming was heralded, and the channel staked, and so close did we pass to the shores, that our yards had to be braced up sharp to clear the overhanging limbs of trees, and we looked down from the deck upon the streets, and into the houses of the villagers en route, as we swept slowly by, exchanging compliments with the people assembled in crowds to see the only American man-of-war that had ever visited those waters.

We stopped at Panillac, St. Estephe and St. Julien, great centers of the Bordeaux wine business, and some of us visited the wine vaults of St. Estephe, enormous underground cellars, lined with huge vats filled with wine, but of which we were not invited to taste!

We were in no haste, took several days to reach our destination, communicated with our Consul there, learned of the time of Mr. Soule’s expected arrival, and finally anchored off the quays of the city, moored ship head and stern, as the channel was too narrow for us to swing at a single anchor, fired a salute with full charges of twenty-one guns, the French flag at the fore which was replied to irregularly by a French gun boat lying above us, by a series of shots, of the force and noise of a good sized firecracker -much more suitable to the confined space than our big Dahlgrens - the roar of which brought thousands of the inhabitants to the quays, while the concussion smashed innumerable windows of the warehouses and buildings in our immediate neighborhood -a result that the Frenchmen did not, so far as we knew, complain about, but seemed rather glad of it. Mr. Soule, delayed in Paris, nearly a week, during which time we were the recipients of unbounded hospitality from the citizens - dinners and fetes - opera boxes - theatre tickets were showered upon the officers of all grades, while the ship was invaded by hundreds of visitors of all sorts and conditions of life - men, women and children. Liberty was denied the crew; there would have been no telling what would have happened had we let our sailors loose in that gay city. We had trouble enough to keep them within bounds on board, and only half succeeded in doing that, and Jack had no end of what he called a good time if he didn't have to go ashore for it. Of course in preserving the discipline, we Midshipmen were the most important factors, and our 'liberty' consequently was restricted - and a long day's duty in boats and between decks entertaining visitors gave little opportunity for growling, and subdued our natural desire to indulge in festivities ashore. Still, we did get, each of us, several days and nights to wander about the city, visit the opera and theatres, accept hospitalities actually forced upon every one who in uniform appeared in the streets and cafes - where it was difficult for us to pay for anything.

I attended the opera with several of our mess, occupied a prominent box in the beautiful opera house, and heard with great pleasure "The Hugenots," in which Dejazet, then a very old woman, took the part of a page and looked like a boy of eighteen. I think we all, officers and men, were glad when Mr. Soule, made his appearance. He was received with another thundering and glass-shattering salute of twenty-one guns, then getting under way with the help of tugs, we steamed slowly down the river, out of the maelstrom of hospitality, which for a week had taxed our physical, moral and mental strength quite up to the limit of our endurance.

On passing out of the river into the famous "Bay of Biscay O," we ran into one of those gales and seas for which it is famous the world over, and battled and fought it for several wretched days under close reefed canvass and steam. In my experience never a ship was worse treated or took its treatments so badly as that old tub. During the gale, another blade of our screw flew off, leaving only one blade, which revolved like a watchman's rattle, threatening at each pitch and roll to go the way of its previous companions. Poor Mr. Soule! He was a wretched sailor, and became so desperately ill that, unconscious, he gasped in a cot swung on the half deck, and his life was despaired of. I have seen a lot of sick men and dying ones, but never such a deplorable object, still clinging to a life that was barely perceptible.

We came off Corunna twice, close to the supposed entrance to the harbor, fired signal guns for a pilot, but getting no response stood off again from the threatening rock-bound coast, upon which the surf thundered in great white foam. Heaving to under close reefs all night we stood in after a dreadful night for the third time. Dr. Fox had said that unless Mr. Soule could be got ashore, he could not live through another such a day. Getting no reply to our calls for a pilot, Captain Stribling determined to go into the port without one. Abey, our sailing master, studied the charts, got good bearings and conned the ship, rolling and pitching, to the point where the mouth of the harbor entrance should open - it had been hidden and obscure - and where, had we missed it or been in error, the "San Jacinto" would have piled up, a wreck, or if that watchman's rattle had ceased to push us ever so feebly, we were lost beyond hope. It was all right, however, the bottle-shaped harbor mouth opened, the blade held fast, and we slowly glided under the protection of those beetling cliffs, dropped our anchors, and were in a blissful resting place, compared with the howling sea and storm we left outside.

Once inside, the pilot came to us and the following day moved us out of the inner harbor.

He had never seen an American man-of-war before - was a typical Spaniard, and it took the united knowledge of his language possessed by us Naval Academy middies, to come to any sort of an understanding as to who we were and what we wanted, or wished to do in coming there.

Mr. Soule took a day to recover, appearing on deck sallow and sad, and eager to get his feet on terra firma. I took him ashore - that is, I was the boat officer - in the barge. The ship gave him twenty-one guns as we pushed off, and if such a forlorn, wretched, bedraggled human being could look happy, he put on a faint appearance of it, as he said good bye to the "San Jacinto" and the Bay of Biscay.

The only method of conveyance to Madrid available was by horseback, to Burgos, and thence by diligence to Madrid. Some days were required to make the necessary arrangements when Mr. Soule started with a few officers and a detachment of Spanish cavalry as guard for Burgos, passing through an impoverished, sparsely settled, mountainous country, infested with bandits - A party of French Engineers were then engaged in surveying a route for a railway since, I believe, constructed. They were a jolly lot of young men, very hospitable, lived with some comfort in the dirty town, and we of the steerage had pleasant intercourse with them.

The officers who went with Mr. Soule to Burgos, returned after several days absence, had seen Mr. Soule safe in the diligence with his secretary; they reported that he was a little better horseman than a sailor, and was still wounded in spirit and galled in the seat. Saying adieu to our French friends, who were about the only persons who took any notice of us in Corunna, we slowly pushed our way to sea, triced up our good little rattle, set sail and worked our way under canvass to Gibraltar. Everybody knows everything about this fortress - I won't waste time or ink in description. I got ashore for a day's liberty, and was ashore a half dozen times on boat duty. I climbed the Rock, went through the galleries, rode a jackass, ate a bad dinner and had enough of the place in one day's run. Mr. Sprague, our Consul there, entertained the Captain and some of the Wardroom officers, and there was a general invitation to all the officers to visit the military club or mess room.

Getting under way under canvass, we passed out of the Straits and lumbered along for Funchal Madeira. On anchoring, the Quarantine officer visited the ship, and for some reason best and only known to himself - for we had no sickness on board, he refused us "Pratique," and Captain Stribling, in a huff, immediately ordered the anchor to be got, and we were off again, this time for the West Indies. I had visited Funchal twice before, as had most of us in the steerage in the "Preble," and while I was then of too little consequence to be taken notice of by anybody, the place had left such agreeable impressions, that I had anticipated much pleasure, in renewing acquaintance with the beautiful island in a long-tailed coat, instead of a woolen jumper. We had a most useless growl together, as the island faded from sight, and on ships rations meandered slowly across the vastly deep, minus the oranges, fruits and fresh grub we had looked forward to. I can hardly remember whether our consignment of Captain Stribling or Portuguese quarantine to a warm climate, was the heartier, but I think it was evenly divided. Captain Stribling generally did things of a disciplinary character, in an apparent temper - as in this case - and then would get pleasant for a moment. He would say, for instance, to two men, brought up to the mast for quarreling: "I don't know whether you are fools or knaves, but I think you are both. Put them in irons, sir!" Later he would ask the First Lieutenant which of these fellows was to blame, and in being told, would say: "Let them go this time." His voice was sharp and thin, his manner petulant, his life reserved and solitary. Yet, as the "San Jacinto" had a splendid lot of officers, including myself, and a very good, well behaved crew, she was a happy ship enough.

We sailed and drifted clumsily along, with generally pleasant weather, with the general idea of reaching St. Pierre Martinique, and did fetch up there one bright warm morning, and rested for ten days. St. Pierre now obliterated, and its site covered with cinders and sand, was then the most charming place in the whole West India Islands. Known as Little Paris, it possessed more attractions to a visitor than any other city, not excepting Havana. The scenery was grand, the flora of the island gorgeous, the people bright, lively and hospitable, the hotels and cafes well kept, clean, with a delicious cuisine, a beautiful theatre with capable artists, the streets well paved, sloping to the sea, with running streams of bright, clear water, gurgling down their centers; indeed the island and the town made it as it was often designated, a sailor's paradise. I have visited it several times, always with greatest pleasure, both in anticipation and realization, and always left it with regret and hoping to return. Its awful annihilation seemed a personal loss at the time of it, and it is difficult to realize it now.

We had a delightful sojourn there, although for me there was an occurrence so disagreeable, to put it mildly, that for a while I wished I had never seen the place.

In those days, all ships, even steamships carried their drinking water for all hands in iron tanks, which were filled from time to time at ports where conveniences and good water were to be had. "Watering Ship" was therefore a most important object, had its pleasures and pains, for it took the ship to pleasant ports, and gave hard work often to those charged with it. At St. Pierre, a mile or so, east of the city, there was a famous stream of cold, sparkling, crystal water, which came rushing down from the lofty mountain, and from which ships drew their water supplies.

It was this water which we needed very much that led the "San Jacinto" to St. Pierre.

Immediately after anchoring, and going through the salutes and formalities of the port, watering ship commenced and was carried on daily until the tanks were full. Now, if there is any duty for which Midshipmen are supposed to be created, it is going in boats for water and sand, and it is that special duty which they most decidedly dislike, dispute about, and try to put off upon some other fellow. In due course it became my turn to take the launch with its water casks, hose and full crew to the stream, fill up with its sparkling water and return, get a bite, a smoke, and keep at it all the day long, making as many trips to and fro as daylight permitted. The orders are very strict - no man to be permitted to leave the boat except the hose tender, no one to be permitted to communicate with the crew, and every care taken to prevent the sailors from getting "aquadiente", the fiery white rum, made from the sugar cane, which will make a man drunk as a Lord in smaller portions and in quicker time than any intoxicating fluid I know of. I reached the stream, dropped the kedge, just outside the slight surf. I rode ashore bestraddling the back of a sturdy seaman. The men jumped overboard and ranged themselves on either side of the launch, holding her stern towards the beach; the hose was stretched out and carried up the stream a few yards, its funnel-shaped mouth immersed, and the pure water flowed in constant stream to the launch and into the casks. The hose tender was near me - every man in plain sight. No one came near us. The casks filled rapidly, and in an hour the launch was loaded deep. I stopped proceedings, ordered the hose to be withdrawn, returned to the launch, the crew tumbled half-clad on board, oars were manned, the Kedge hauled up, and we started for the ship, about a mile or so away.

Hardly under headway, I saw to my consternation that every man at the oars was unmistakably under the influence of rum. They "caught crabs," their oars intermingled, their language grew more and more impolite to each other and unprintable; the deeply loaded launch wallowed helplessly in the swell of the sea, our progress diminished, and before we were half way on our return journey it ceased, and we lay a painted launch upon a painted ocean, with most of the crew helplessly drunk, and the others, squabbling, fighting, swearing, and unable to pull a stroke. There were only three persons in the boat sober, myself, the coxswain and the hose tender, and I think the two latter named were envious of the condition of their comrades.

From the ship we were observed by the quartermaster on watch and the officer of the deck, and soon a cutter was dispatched to us, which took the launch and her load of senseless men in tow, and brought us at last alongside the ship. The men were got on board - most of them - by a whip from the main yard and all hands, including the sober coxswain were consigned to the "Brig," while I was consigned to the tender compliments of Captain Stribling, who pacing the quarter deck, tried and convicted me of gross neglect of duty in less than a minute, and sentenced me on the spot to suspension from duty and confinement to my quarters, and accompanied with threats of court martial and other inconveniences. What little I had to say for myself I was not permitted to utter, but scuttled below, mad, disgusted and vowing to myself that I had enough of Uncle Sam's service afloat, and determined to seek my future livelihood in some more peaceful vocation. It was the first time and was the last that I ever received such a reprimand.

While brooding over it and declaiming against its justice to my sympathetic mess mates, Mr. Carr and Mr. Murray called me to the ward room, and I was questioned as to what had occurred on shore to bring on such a catastrophe. I described my proceedings and wound up by stating the fact that I was as ignorant and as innocent as they were of any neglect on my part that had produced such woeful result. All sorts of conjectures were made by everyone who interested themselves in the adventure; the men when sobered were interrogated, the coxswain as well, but one and all professed entire ignorance of any cause for their condition. So it must have been the air, the sweet odor of the flowers, the land smells which overcame them.

Several days later Captain Stribling condescended to relieve me from suspension, and return me to duty at the intercession of Mr. Carr and Mr. Murray, but he did not take the trouble to ask me for any explanation.

When the ship went out of commission and the crew discharged, a ceremony at which I attended as witness to payment of wages by the purser, I asked Fisher, the coxswain of the launch to elucidate the mystery. It was simple enough after all.

He said, touching his forelock:  "You see sir, it was this a way; there was rock sticking out of the water off our port bow, and behind was a nigger, who dove and swam under water to the bows - he had a lot of skins of liquor fastened to him. The men holding on to the gun wales swiftered around, and each in turn took a good swig at the skins - that's how it was, sir! It was awful fiery stuff, although I didn't get a smell of it. When it was gone, he got away the same way as he came."

From Martinique we passed to Havana, and entering that harbor under steam, just inside the Moro, the third and last blade of our propellor flew off. The engine relieved of pressure, raced itself almost to destruction, and would have been reduced to scrap iron but for Assistant Engineer De Luce's quickness at the throttle at which he was stationed in view of the possibility of just such an occurrence. We dropped anchor, and tugs took us to our moorings. Leaving Havana we sailed March 17, 1855 to Philadelphia, where a new screw was ready for us. The ship was docked, the new screw adjusted, the engine repaired, and we were off again for the West Indies, April 12, 1855, with old Commodore McCauley, flying his broad pennant on a special mission to Cuba. We arrived at Havana on the 20th of April, 1855.  Here the mission of Commodore McCauley was executed; I cannot now recall the details of it, but it was connected with the detention of the Steamer "Black Warrior" by the Spanish authorities, for having violated their custom-laws, involving the confiscation of ship and cargo. The "Black Warrior" was released, and given back to the command of Capt. Bullock, U.S.N., the uncle of Ex-President Roosevelt, and later the chief agent of the Confederacy in England, under whose superintendency the Rebel cruisers, "Alabama" and "Sumpter" were built and commissioned, and indeed all the naval operations of the Confederacy abroad were carried on. Captain Bullock has given an account of his agency, in a book entitled: "The Secret Service of the Confederacy in Europe". He also ran the blockade off Savannah in the steamer "Fingal," which was cut down and converted into the Rebel iron-clad "Atlanta" and captured in Warsaw Sound - by the Monitors "Wohawken" and "Nahant." This "Black Warrior" affair almost brought Spain and the United States to the verge of war. But Spain ordered the vessel and cargo to be returned to her owners, paid in some form the damages demanded and the threatened war was averted.

How far our presence in Havana, and the interviews between Commodore McCauley with the Spanish authorities in Cuba had to do with the settlement, I don't know - as Midshipmen were not of much account in such negotiations. All that I can contribute to the history of this once celebrated case, are the facts that while we were there, I went often to the "Black Warrior" and saw her again restored to Captain Bullock who went on his way reluctantly. For the Southern element in politics, as well as the Cuban annexationists were sorely disappointed that this high-handed act of the Cuban authorities had not more serious results.

From Havana we went to Key West, remained there for several days then returned to Havana, thence to Matanzas, then back to Havana, then over to Key West again, sailing thence for New York on the 7th of June, arriving there June 13, 1855. The ship was put out of commission, the crew discharged and the officers detached and placed on waiting orders, and here ended my first cruise as a Midshipman in the Navy. The experience gained had not fulfilled all my anticipations of the charms of the ocean wave, nor had my duties as an officer of the Navy been of that dignified importance or value to the country that I had assumed before my schoolmates. I had been obliged to "go for sand," and do no end of things that required me to pocket my dignity, but while I touched my hat to my superiors, men old enough to be my grandfather touched their hats to me, and obeyed my orders as I did those of others, without murmur or question. Altogether, the voyage and discipline had been good for me, morally, mentally and physically. I had generally behaved myself, had added to my academic knowledge the practical duties of my profession, and from a boy had become a man - strong, robust in health, pretty well fitted for the more serious and responsible work ahead of me, while the petty vanities of life were submerged in great measure by its necessities. I don't know that I indulged in any such philosophical reflections when I bid good bye to the "San Jacinto" and my brother officers, and with my "Waiting orders" in my pocket, started for Springfield, as happy as a boy let out of school. There I pitched in and had a good time for a month, looking every day for orders from the Navy Department which would send me to some remote and unknown part of the earth. I paid visits to my grandmother at Roxbury, went a fishing in the brooks  around the town, rode horseback, spun my yarns to eager listeners, was made a limited sort of a hero by my good mother, was feasted by our family friends, and in a way, had the salt rinsed out of me, grew rather tired of the enforced idleness, so that I was not sorry when the long document bearing the imprint of the Navy Department was handed me, which directed me to proceed to Boston and report for duty on board of U.S. sloop-of-war "Saratoga."

I bade goodbye to home and friends and reported to Commodore Gregory, Commandant of the Charlestown Navy Yard, was turned over to Commander Selfridge, and by him to Commander E.G. Tilton in command of the "Saratoga," on the 29th day of August, 1855. The ship was in process of fitting out for the Home Squadron, then commanded by Commodore Hiram Paulding. We did not get her ready for sea until the 12th of September, when under all sail, including top mast and top gallant studding sails, we passed in gallant style out of Boston Harbor, exchanging salutes with the forts as we swept by.

The "Saratoga" was a beautiful ship of her class - 20-gun-sloop-of-war. Whenever visited by foreign officers she excited their admiration for her fine lines, roomy decks, square yards, and gracefully tapering masts. She was a fast sailor, worked to windward like a top, altogether lovely. Every officer, man and boy on board of her loved and was proud of her.

The officers were a good lot, also - and my life in the "Saratoga" was remarkably pleasant in every way. Captain Tilton was in many respects the best seaman and officer I had yet met in the Navy. I owe much to his kindly interest and his teachings. He had many peculiarities of mind and temper, but take him "by and large,” he was my ideal of the gentleman sailor, of the type that I had dreamed and read of. As no biography of him has ever appeared, I am impelled here to describe him, as I knew and admired him:

He was a very handsome man, with clear cut features, eyes of brilliant blue, spare in figure, graceful in carriage. In his dress he was very "old fashioned," but neat as a pin from truck to keelson, slightly bald; he wore his hair long, turned up as a cue, and fastened on top of his head with a comb, making the afterguard do forecastle duty. At sea, in bad weather, he wore an old cocked hat, the flaps turned down to shed the rain; he wore it nearly athwart - ships, as did John Paul Jones - if his portraits are correct. His voice was thin, sharp and penetrating; the foretop men could hear him in a gale. Never have I seen a man who could handle a ship under all conditions as he could. The hospitalities of his cabin were unbounded; the justice of his discipline were submitted to without murmur by the crew. He seemed to understand a sailor's nature, his weaknesses and strength, and make allowances for the temptations which beset them. He was a disciplinarian, but not a martinet. I doubt if there ever was a smarter crew or a smarter ship afloat - nor a happier one. He was intensely loyal to the country and to his friends. When the rebellion broke out, he, a Southerner and owner of slaves said: "I cannot fight the old flag; I will not fight my friends and relations”, and he shot himself dead rather than do either. His son, Lieutenant-Colonel McKean Tilton of the Marine Corps, gave me the portrait of his father, which is amongst my naval records and hangs on my study walls - copied from a portrait painted by an Italian artist - when he was a Lieutenant, cruising in the Mediterranean.

The other officers were Lieutenant William Rodgers Taylor (First Lieutenant), Lieutenants Francis Winslow, John Wilkinson, Master Greenleaf Cilley, Passed Midshipmen Bancroft Gherardi, George E. Belknap, J.G. Maxwell, William R. Mercer, and I the only Midshipman. Upon leaving Boston we cruised in the open sea with varying weather, exercising the men at the guns and stations, until the 27th September, when we fell in with the frigate "Potomac", flagship of Commodore Paulding; saluted, exchanged visits and for several days sailed in her company, bringing up at anchor off the Highlands of Neversink on the 15th of October, having passed forty-three days at sea, every one of which was marked by constant exercises, with every possible variation of wind and weather, calms, gales and voring breezes which shook us all down into our duties and made us fit for any service. We remained in New York Harbor until November 5th, awaiting orders from the Navy Department. During that time we all had short leaves of absence. I visited my family for a few days, saw much of my uncle's family, John F. A. Sanford, who, married the second time to Miss Isabel Davis, and then living at 104 Fifth Avenue - had two little children, Mary and Jack. Mary later married Count Maurice Sala - in the French Diplomatic Service, and at one time Secretary of the Legation at Washington. Upon my uncle's death all the Davis family, including my Aunt Belle and her children, removed to, and continued to live in Paris.

I should have stated that all of my mother's sisters had, at the instance of my uncle John who was "the head of the family," moved from St. Louis and were now living in Springfield. They had all married army officers, who had died in the service, except Colonel Bainbridge, and he lost his life in 1857 in the destruction of the steamer "Louisiana," in Galveston Bay - by fire.

My Aunt Henrietta, widow of Lieutenant-Colonel Clark, Aunt Irene, widow of Dr. Emerson, U.S.A., the original owner of Dred Scott, and Aunt Mary Bainbridge, were all living together in what was known as the Worthington House, and upon my visit there I came to know them and their children, my cousins. Upon one of these visits I met the late William C. Whitney, whose father, a politician, had lately been appointed the Civil Superintendent of the Springfield Armory in place of Colonel Ripley. "Bill" Whitney was then a law student in the office of Judge Chapman, as was my elder brother, W.H.L. Barnes. They had been classmates at Yale. Mr. Whitney, the political appointee to the Superintendency of the armory, was soon after replaced by a regular army officer. Willilam C. Whitney went West, married a daughter of Governor Payne, became rich through his marriage, moved to New York City, plunged into politics, rose rapidly in importance, became Secretary of the Navy, a speculator in street railways, accumulated a vast fortune through the doubtful processes of the times. My brother went to New York, entered the law offices of Charles O'Connor, later formed a law partnership with Joseph H. Choate, married a daughter of Charles Gould, served a short term in the army at the outbreak of the Civil War as aide to General Fitz John Porter, then moved to San Francisco where he lived until his death in 1904. I shall refer to him hereafter in these "recollections," but now get back to the "Saratoga."

The long delayed orders came at last, and upon the 11th of November, 1855, we sailed out to sea from under the lee of Sandy Hook, having received on board Lieutenant Reed Worden and "Bully" Erben as passengers to Port au Prince, Haiti, whither we were ordered to take possession of the barque "Amelia," a slaver, taken previously into that port after having landed a cargo of slaves in the Island of Cuba. Worden and Erben were sent there to bring the "Amelia" to some United States port for trial and condemnation in Admiralty.

After a passage of two weeks, varied by storms and calms, we dropped our anchor in the Harbor of Port au Prince on the 25th day of November. Communication with the authorities - all negroes - established our right to the "Amelia." We took possession of her at once, warped her out of the inner harbor to a position nearby, and commenced getting her ready for her voyage homewards.

She was a miserable, rotten old hulk, filthy and unseaworthy, having been robbed of nearly everything movable, sails, running rigging, and only fit to be broken up or burned.

Worden protested against being sent to sea in such a vessel, verbally and in writing, but in vain. Captain Tilton's orders were preemptory, allowing of no exercise of judgment in the matter. So we went to work upon her, rove new running and set up her standing rigging, bent new topsails and jibs, caulked the seams of deck and sides that gaped visibly, and after many days work by our crew, under charge of Worden and Erben, she was made as seaworthy as under the conditions she could be made. Worden and Erben moved on board, and with a crew of ten or twelve men, were ordered to proceed on her voyage. Then Worden again "protested" and amongst other griefs, he pleaded that he and Erben, the only officers, could not possibly live, work and navigate such a craft with safety, so Captain Tilton ordered sailing master J.G. Maxwell to join the "Amelia," and appointed me the sailing master of the "Saratoga."

This appointment was duly confirmed by the Navy Department. I took possession of my cabin in the Ward Room, and thereafter all the duties appertaining to the Master's Department were discharged by me, including my regular watch as Deck Officer (we were in three watches) and the entire navigation of the ship.

As I owed this sudden promotion to the "Amelia," I give the further history of this wretched ship. The last article furnished her from our ship's stores, I find from my journal was a breaker of whiskey, which gave some comfort, I hope, to her despondent officers and crew, who bade us goodbye, solemnly, feebly replying to our cheers as she sailed slowly by us, disappearing at nightfall on the evening of December 2nd. Erben would later tell of his experience in her, how she leaked and blundered along, got dismasted, came near foundering, until progress northward was abandoned and under jury masts after much suffering, they put her about and reached the harbor of St. Thomas - as Erben described her - a filthy, rotten, worthless wreck, every one aboard only fit for the sick list. Here she was condemned, towed out to sea, set on fire - as she should have been when we first took possession of her.

Lately when meeting Erben at the University Club, I had only to mention the word "Amelia," to produce from Bully an explosion of wrath with a vocabulary that was unique. Erben was always one of the characters of the old navy, owing his sobriquet to those bluff characteristics which distinguished the sailors of the old school. He lately passed away, peace to his ashes! He was much beloved, a fine sailor and excellent officer, performed good service in the higher ranks, dying a Rear-Admiral on the retired list.

On leaving the "Amelia" to her fate, the "Saratoga" next stopped at San Domingo for a few days, gave the men 'liberty' and after getting them back somewhat the worse for indulgence in the pleasures of the dissolute town, we gladly bade adieu to this wretched collection of human beings, passing the "Cyane," Captain McNiel Fairfax, outside. We experienced heavy seas, stormy winds, at times of hurricane violence, but anchored off Frederickstadt, Island of Santa Cruz on the 27th of December. At this charming town we passed several delightful days. The crew had liberty and we made several excursions over the beautiful island, entertained hospitably by the Danes at several sugar plantations. I accompanied Captain Tilton by invitation to one of the largest, celebrated for the quality of its Santa Cruz Rum. We were feasted at midday dinner at which our host produced some of the rum of great age. A small portion was poured into a deep glass, filled up with pure water and then stirred by the roots of a white shrub - forming the prongs by twisting them rapidly between the palms of the hands, when the mixture would effervesce like a glass of soda water, overflow and then [be drunk]. The quality of the beverage may be best described in the words of Captain Tilton, who said to me in an aside: "Master, if I could get plenty of grog like that, I would be a drunkard with pleasure."

This planter, a Dane, had a large family, all daughters, grown to the premature womanhood of the latitude, all of them, five in number very handsome young women, ranging from twelve to twenty-four years of age. The wife and mother did not appear, but the complexion and other marked indications of physiognomy, showed them to be Quadroons, and I learned later that the mother was a Mulatto woman. The daughters, besides possessing beauty of form and feature, were well educated, refined in bearing, spoke French and English perfectly, and would have attracted attention in any society.

From Santa Cruz we ran over to the neighboring island of St. Thomas - on the passage during the strong trade wind prevailing, when I was officer of the deck, and was taking a reef in the top sails, a seaman fell from the fore top sail yard. I can see him now as sprawling out in the stiff wind; he struck the water - his white face emerging from the foam, with his black hair pasted to his face with wide appealing eyes as we passed swiftly by him. "Man overboard!" that fearsome cry rang out, and the men rushed to the stations provided for each man in that emergency. It was my first experience of that kind, and the responsibility of immediate action rested upon me, and in accordance with my teachings I ordered the helm down, with the intention of heaving the ship to, lowering the lee quarter boat, at same time ordering the life buoy to be "let go!" But before my order was obeyed, Captain Tilton was by my side, took the trumpet from my willing hand, ordered the helm to be put "up," wore the ship sharp around "on her heel," while I jumped into the lowering quarter boat, ready to drop as soon as the ship's headway permitted. The ship came around grandly, we dropped safely into the sea, pulled clear, looked for direction in which to pull, from the ship, when the recall was hoisted, and on getting back found the sailor safe and sound on board, having been hauled on board with a line thrown to him, as he half drifted, half swam to the ice side, as the ship came to the wind after wearing, with her main top sail to the mast. It was the neatest prettiest evolution I ever saw, and taught us all a lesson.

We remained a few days in St. Thomas, a town more noted for yellow fever epidemics than anything else, owing to bad sanitary conditions. Then, once more under way, proceeded on our voyage along the South side of Cuba passing around Cape San Antonio and to Havana.

On the way we entered the harbor of Guantanamo, and grounded upon a shoal in the middle of the channel, not shown upon the chart. We had no pilot. We had difficulty in getting afloat; ran out one of our sheet anchors attached to a big Manila hawser, hove it taught with the capstan, and the shrinkage of the wet hawser dragged us off without damage.

Our original purpose in entering this then insignificant harbor was to make a rough survey of it, but our mishap induced Captain Tilton to abandon his purpose, and we again pursued our course around Cape San Antonio to Havana. Here we fell in with the "Potomac" flag ship and other ships of the Home squadron, and in company cruised at sea, visiting Matanzas, Key West and Pensacola, finally fetching up again at St. Thomas, where the Commodore received despatches, and learning of trouble on the Isthmus at Panama, known as the "Panama Massacre," he set sail for Colon with his little fleet, without entering the harbor. Knowing of his intention and hearing that he wanted an officer to bear despatches to the Department, I volunteered for this service, mainly because my examination for promotion to Passed Midshipman was due me, and the other members of the Advanced Class were supposed to be on hand at home, and I was naturally anxious to be there also. Captain Tilton, appreciating my wishes, very reluctantly consented to my leaving the "Saratoga," and on the 6th of May, 1856, with specific orders from Commodore Paulding, I was put ashore in a fishing boat and landed at the wharf of St. Thomas late in the evening. I found to my surprise that the yellow fever was raging through this dirty town. The harbor was crowded with shipping, more or less disabled by the scourge, business was suspended, the streets mostly deserted, and desolation prevailed. The United States Consul had abandoned his office and moved up to a house on one of the three hills, where with a couple of blacks, carrying my few belongings, I found him before midnight. My instructions were to take passage in the British Mail Steamer due there that week for Havana, and thence to the United States. The Consul was kind and solicitous as to my welfare, thinking that I had better get out of the place at the earliest possible moment. He stated that there was a schooner called the "Hoyt," loaded with flour, bound to Rio, whose Captain and mate and most of her crew had died of the fever. The schooner could not proceed on her voyage to Rio, and he had decided to send her to Philadelphia if he could find any one to take her there. I at once offered to do so if he could get me a small crew to work her.

He found the former cook of the schooner and three or four men, all convalescents and just out of the hospital who were ready and anxious to go; so that by ten o'clock on the forenoon of May 8th, I found myself on board the "Hoyt," in my first command with a crew of five men and two passengers beating out of St. Thomas Harbor, bound for Home! The "Hoyt" was a big lump of a down-east schooner, of 300 to 400 tons burden, loaded heavily with flour in barrels. The only experience I had ever had with a vessel of her rig, had been in the little practise schooner, the "Rainbow," in use at Annapolis, the 'flagship' in our boat sailing evolutions, and always skillfully handed by Captain Craven, with us youngsters as crew. However, I got the "Hoyt" out of the bottle-shaped harbor all right, set my course with a favorable breeze, feeling rather proud of my command and glad enough to leave the pestilence behind me. All went well for two or three days, as with all plain sail set we pushed northwards. The cook, formerly of her crew, served us fairly well. We had potatoes, a few chickens, plenty of beef and pork, coffee, very bad water. The cabin occupied by my two passengers and myself, was dirty and impregnated with a very offensive odor. As the weather was pleasant I kept on deck, sleeping in the "Cock put" at night.

The odor became a stench, and on questioning the cook, and making an examination of the half deck, with which the cabin communicated, it was found as stated by the cook, that when the "old man" [                            ] the former skipper, died, the mate, his nephew, had packed his remains in a cask of rum which he had stowed in the half decked house, in close proximity to the cabin.

We got the cask overboard at once, thus depriving the "old man" of a resting place amongst his ancestors. Soon after I began to feel shaky, a violent fever set in, and I was sure that Yellow Jack had hold of me sure enough. My friend the cook, and both of the passengers, who had gone through the hospital, gave me the benefit of their experiences. I got out the schooner's medicine chest, took a good dose of the prepared doses of calomel and jalap, by the advice of the cook, marked upon the chart the position of the ship, ordered sail reduced, shaped a course for the Capes of the Delaware, wrapped myself in heavy blankets, and coiled myself down in the cock pit near the wheel, giving myself up to the care of the cook and to Fate. I lay there for about twelve or fourteen days, most of the time out of my head, receiving such attentions as the cook could spare to me or thought worth his while. My passengers, so far as I know, simply steered clear of me, for which consideration I was, and am sincerely thankful, for more indifferent specimens of the genus homo I was never in contact with. Coarse, vulgar, profane and indecent, I shrunk from any touch of or intercourse with them.

From time to time I got a meridian altitude of the sun for our latitude, got in with the coast, and we skirted the shore at safe distance. The weather continued fine throughout. I do not remember much of the occurrences of the voyage, but was glad enough when we sighted the Capes of the Delaware, got a pilot who took charge and brought us inside the breakwater. Here, I collapsed, was removed to the hospital; the schooner was placed in quarantine. I never heard more of her except through the Navy Department later.  I received a check for one hundred dollars for my services from the owners of the schooner or of her cargo. I was in the hospital for a week or more. My despatches were forwarded after fumigation, to the Navy Department, and I was ordered to Washington to report to the Department. I might add that an inspection of my person on coming out of this affair was not flattering. I was thin, yellow as saffron, my eyes injected, and I was anything but a beauty. I bought a cheap set of slops at a ready-made clothing store, did not dare to call upon my Philadelphia friends, but went to Washington and presented myself to the Secretary of the Navy, showed my orders from Commodore Paulding, and was told to remain there at the disposition of the Department. I had of course written my father at Springfield, but had no reply, but meeting an acquaintance of his, a Mr. Mehaffey, I learned to my consternation that he and my mother had left the country a month or six weeks ago, for St. Petersburg, Russia, on some important business affairs connected with the construction of a Railway from Moscow to Warsaw.

As one or two members of my class were absent, on their way home for the examination for promotion, which had caused my return, the Navy Department Officials turned me over to the Treasury Department, for duty on the Coast Survey, which work was then under the direction of the Secretary of the Treasury through the Hydrographic office. I accordingly reported at the Treasury Department, and received orders, signed by A.P. Hill, First Lieutenant, First Artillery, Acting Assistant in charge of Coast Survey office, to report for duty to Lieutenant O.H. Berryman, commanding United States Coast Survey steamer, "Vixen," then lying in New York Harbor. A.P. Hill, afterwards the celebrated General in the Confederate army, thus under the rules of that period, ordered Naval officers to duty. I am bound to say that he treated me with much kindness, invited me to dine with him and listened to my recital of experiences on the "Hoyt" with much apparent interest. This incident brings up another in the same line, that amongst my official correspondence is an order, signed by my "respectful, obedient servant, Jefferson Davis, Acting Secretary of the Navy."

Before joining the "Vixen" a few days were given me to adjust myself, which I employed in a visit to Springfield, where my sister Susan, then Mrs. Henry M. Baker, occupied the family residence on Maple Street during the absence in Europe of our parents. There I had a pleasant "quatre d'heurve," was made a diminutive sort of a hero of by our older friends and relatives, and by my school mates, and returning to the "Vixen," scuttled about the shores of Long Island, with Zeadline compass and theodolite, surveying sundry shoals, and harbors, tedious, but interesting work.


At this time, May, 1856, Cyrus W. Field and other New York capitalists were moving in the matter of telegraphic communication with Europe, and had obtained from Congress an appropriation and directions for a survey of the route, projected by Commander Matthew M. Maury, as forming a soft and safe bed upon which a telegraphic cable could be laid and never be disturbed.

As a result of this legislation, a small steam vessel, which had been employed on whaling voyages in the Arctic seas, was bought by the government, named "The Arctic." Lieutenant Berryman was detached from the "Vixen" and given the command of "The Arctic," with directions to run a line of soundings across the Atlantic on the Great Circle, between St. Johns, Newfoundland, and Lands End, England. Lieutenant Berryman applied for and obtained orders for me to accompany him.

The other officers were Lieutenant Strain, known as the leader of the ill-fated Darien expedition, who was the executive officer, Passed Midshipman Thomas, Mitchell and myself who composed the watch and navigating officers. An Assistant Surgeon and the Captain's secretary formed the Ward Room mess. The "Arctic" was heavily sparred, barkentine rigged, sheathed with iron on her bows and water line. Her engine was auxiliary, consisting of one upright cylinder, like the engine of an ordinary tug boat. In ordinary weather the "Arctic" had a speed under steam of six knots. She was fitted with a huge steam reel placed amid ships, upon which was wound several thousand fathoms of marked lead line. The working crew consisted of about fifty seamen. Loaded with coal in her bunkers, and stowed in bags in her gangways, with her deck almost awash, we steamed out of New York Harbor on the ___   day of May, 1856, bound for St. Johns. It would be hard to find a more ungainly, awkward and unsuitable vessel for the work cut out for her. Although we flew a pennant and claimed to be a "Man-of-war," there was not a gun or other instrument of warfare on board of her.

The engine was a ridiculous machine and had a silly trick of getting and sticking on its center, from which it could only be moved with a crowbar. As an early illustration of its quality, on going down the bay, it was stopped to avoid a schooner with a deck load of lumber, but getting on its center it could not be reversed, and we bumped heavily into the projecting lumber, nearly capsized the schooner and sent her deck load afloat drifting with the tide.

Her astonished skipper, in terms more forcible than polite sung out: "Why don't you back her!" Strain, who was at the bell rope frantically ringing "three bells" in such quick succession that it might have been a Christmas carol, replied suavely: "She won't back!" The skipper's only comment expressed all our views:

"You're a hell of a steamer!" With the aid of the crowbar, the engine again revolved and we crept out by Sandy Hook, leaving the irate skipper to adjust his damages at the Government offices as best he might. We signed some affidavits on our return, and I have reason to believe that the schooner skipper never sold lumber to better advantage. Under sail and steam, getting occasional casts of the lead en route for practice, we reached St. Johns, Newfoundland on the      day of June, 1856. It required all our best uniforms and many explanations to convince the authorities there that ours was a United States Naval ship bound upon scientific voyage in which Newfoundlanders should be greatly interested, so shabby and uncouth was our appearance.

Our experimental work during this passage had developed certain weaknesses in the sounding outfit which it became necessary to remedy. The line used was the ordinary three strand hempen line, the end carried forward from the reel, rove through a block slung from the force yard, and taken thence to the forecastle and made fast to the lead. The ship being hove to, and as nearly stationary as possible, the lead was lowered into the water, the steam reel reversed, the line paid out until the lead reached the bottom. The markings upon the line, for small depths, gave us the depth, but for depths over 100 fathoms, two Massey Indicators, were attached to the spindle, reversed to indicate the descent, also the ascent, thus making three records of depths for each sounding. The leads used were the arrangement known as the Brook's deep sea sounding leads, consisting of a long leaden column, weighing from 100 to 180 pounds, hollowed to receive an iron spindle, fitted with goose quills in its cup-like end. Along the extended upper end, the indicators were attached, and above them a span to which the lead line was fastened was so arranged that upon the goose lined end striking the bottom, the leaden weight was detached, and the spindle with its specimens of the bottom and the indicators was recovered by the steam reel relieved of the leaden weight. While about it, I should complete this description by stating that when we came to the work before us, self-registering thermometers were also attached, to give us the temperatures existing at the bottom of the ocean. It was with this apparatus that we found the depths very accurately over our course to Lands End, only that carefully made linen fish line, braided linen lines and piano wire was in turn substituted for the three-strand hempen line. This last named line, was wholly discarded. On our arrival at St. Johns, the line used and reeled up wet, swelled and forced the side discs of the reel so hard against its bearings that the reel became jammed and useless. To get nearly 300 fathoms off the reel, and key the side discs back to their places was a problem. Some of us mathematicians figured that it would take months to pass the end around, so there was nothing left to do, but to cut it off by forcing a long, sharpened steel rod down to the core, close to the discs - which was done and the 3000 fathoms of line ruined and expended. The discs were then forced back to their places and heavily keyed. In using fish line, or linen braided lines thereafter, care was taken to so reel it, that pressure on the discs could not occur. Of course the finer line of same length occupied less than one half the space than the old line. Being a fishing town, St. Johns furnished the fish lines needed, also the piano wire was obtained. Most of the soundings thereafter were made with wire.

These preparations occupied us for two weeks, when we started on our long voyage. I may add that when the Newfoundlanders became satisfied that we were not on a steam whaler and seal-seeking expedition, they gave us welcome and every assistance.

Our course on the great circle took us well to the Northward. We encountered much ice in floes and icebergs, and in very stormy weather were often driven off our course - obliged to get back upon it - lost thousands of fathoms of line and wire, with sets of leads, spindles, indicators and thermometers. Often the lead and all would be laboriously brought back without evidence of having touched the bottom, although 2000 fathoms had been paid out, or under such conditions the great strain and the heaving and tossing of the ship would part the line and the work would begin over again. An entire day and part of the night watches, would be spent in getting at the right place an accurate sounding. It was laborious work for all hands from our Captain down. He stood a regular watch with us - indeed he was on watch all the time, day and night. Mitchell and myself did the navigating, either working together or on alternate days. Captain Berryman took special charge of the specimens drawn up from the bottom, placing each quill load in vials marked with latitude and longitude of the cast. They were invariably of the same general character, a soft blue ooze, which under the microscope showed to be formed of minute mollusks. The quills were never crushed by contact with rock or hard substance, but the condition of recovered leads and spindles showed a depth of this soft bed which fully proved the feasibility of a secure resting place for the projected telegraphic cable.

The greatest depth found was 2460 fathoms about midway. The average depth was about 2000 fathoms. About sixty successful casts were made, averaging thirty to forty miles apart.

At about 300 miles to the eastward of Lands End we crossed a ridge of harder ground at a depth of 300 fathoms, running from 1500 to 300 fathoms in a distance of thirty miles. We were all rejoiced when after forty odd days of the hardest kind of work we sighted Lands End, and slowly steered our ridiculous looking craft safely into Cork Harbor.

Mr. Field, who had seen us off at New York, and had kindly contributed some stores to our mess, not included in government rations, came over from London to meet us, full of nervous excitement as to the result of our survey. He was so well satisfied that he gave railway tickets to London and return, to any and all of us who desired to visit the Capital. As I had hoped to meet my parents there, I availed myself of his generosity. I also had letters of introduction from my uncle John Sanford, to Mr. George Peabody and Mr. Junius Morgan, and a very small letter of credit.

Dividing the ship's duty we arranged amongst ourselves for absence. Neither Mitchell or Thomas desired to go to London, so with Mr. R.O. Ives, the Captain's secretary, I passed four or five days there very delightfully. My father and mother were still in St. Petersburg.

Mr. Peabody received me very cordially, was greatly interested in my account of our voyage and its result, introduced me to Mr. Gurney - afterwards M.P., then a young man who "knew London," and was very attentive, taking me to various places of interest. Mr. Morgan also received me kindly, asked me many questions, and also presented a junior partner, Mr.  ______              who did the polite for him. I remember that he spoke of my uncle John as "Major Jack" and was amused at my saying that my familiar name was "Jack" also. With seeing London in four days I was pretty well used up - not very sorry to find myself again on the "Arctic" and put in a few days at the lakes of Killarney, and in the milder pleasures to be had at Cork, listening to

          "Those Bells of Shandon
          That sound so grand on
          The pleasant waters of the
           River Lea."

I do not think I heard the bells, but those charming lines were ever in my mind as I passed up from the Cove of Cork to the town.

Lieutenant Strain here left us. He had never recovered from the effects of his disastrous exploration of the Isthmus of Darien, having lost his teeth from eating the beetle nuts, and suffered greatly from other physical disabilities, to which he finally succumbed.

We left Queenstown on our return voyage early in September, passed twenty-four days at sea, sounding at intervals over the same route, to verify previous work with the same average results as to depth, temperatures and character of the ocean bed, reaching St. Johns about the 1st of October.

Here we received visits from the Governor of Newfoundland, the Arch Bishop and many official dignitaries of the Province. On our previous visit little official notice was taken of us, but now, our mission accomplished successfully, the Newfoundlanders awoke to its importance, by the publicity given to the project, and could not do enough in their way to signify living interest in the possibility of their being brought into closer connection with the world.

We reached New York on the 18th of October, discharged our crew; the officers were detached and the wretched little ship was put out of commission and sold, to be used in the whale and seal fisheries for which she was originally intended.

As a general summary of this cruise I can only add that it was replete with personal hardship, some imminent dangers, severe unremittent labor and more than ordinary discomforts. Up to this time while theories were plentiful, there was no actual knowledge of the conditions existing on the ocean's bed upon which a telegraphic cable could be laid and securely repose. The projectors of the enterprise were met by a great many objections to its feasibility as a practical scheme by investors. Mr. Field was looked upon as a visionary enthusiast by many scientists.

They were not in accord as to the physical character of Electricity, which implied the existence of a certain fluid, which produced certain definite effects - mechanical and chemical - that was deposited in a latent state and in unlimited quantity in the earth, the waters, the air and in all bodies upon the earth.

Various instruments had been contrived for evolving the electric fluid, the most efficient being the galvanic or voltaic battery. The distances, over which intelligence by lightning had been sent,  - about 1000 miles over land by underground and overhead wires of galvanized iron or overcoated with insulating material- were being extended all over the United States and Europe, but in 1855 - except over short distances (at the straits of Dover and the Irish sea, rivers and estuaries in various parts of the United States and Europe) no submarine cable had been successfully operated - that between Dover and Calais being the most important where communication had been established over a single copper insulated wire in 1850. This cable became useless by the action of the waves on the rocky bed and shores, wearing off the insulating envelope.

This was only an experiment however, and new forms of cable invested with iron armor, strong, not too heavy or too rigid were made, enclosing several conducting wires. Cables of this character were in use over various streams and bays in the States and Europe, covering a united mileage of about 600 miles, the longest single distance being between New Brunswick and Prince Edward Island, 150 miles.

The difficulties of laying a sea cable were great. There were many failures through storms and the inadequacy of the machinery employed. Miles of expensive cables were lost, and when seventy miles in one unbroken length was laid between the coasts of England and Belgium, in 1852-3, the feat was heralded as the most memorable triumph of the age. It weighed seven tons to the mile and cost  [$] 300,000, and the first message ever sent over a submarine cable of that extraordinary length was on the 6th of May, 1853. Many short submarine cables followed, but until Mr. Field entered into the project of crossing the Atlantic Ocean with the wire, few entertained the possibility of its accomplishment. Eminent scientific authorities doubted their durability, through wave action, friction, corrosive action, slight imperceptible imperfections in manufacture of a wire rope 1200 miles long, the possible and probable accidents in laying it out at sea -all combined - made of Mr. Field's project to put the old world in instantaneous communication with the new, a very difficult and doubtful one.

Some regarded it as a possibility, other ridiculed it, while the men of finance doubted a remunerative result.

I look upon the service in the "Arctic" as perhaps the most important that I ever rendered to the country - humble as it was - and I must be pardoned for the egoism shown, that I dilate upon it, and assert, now that no one lives who can contradict me, that throughout the voyage, no one on that vessel, did more constant, laborious, unremitting personal work than myself, and as no one, expect perhaps, Miss Maury, the daughter of Lieutenant M.F. Maury, in her Life of her Father, has ever given me any credit for it, I assume it myself, and take some pride in inserting Lieutenant Berryman's letter of appreciation:

Washington City,
November 13, 1856.

To the Honble Board for the Examination of the Class of Graduated Midshipmen of the date of 1854.


The honor of presenting you this is given to Midshipman John S. Barnes, who served under my command on board the U.S. Steamer Arctic, lately employed by the Navy Department, in examining a route across the Atlantic Ocean for the purpose of determining the practicability of laying a telegraphic cable between Europe and America.

I have the very great pleasure in being able to assure the "Board" of the superior qualifications possessed by this young officer. His mature judgment, gentlemanly and officerlike deportment, with a varied experience in his profession, and decided talents for literary and scientific knowledge, fits him already for the more important duties of the higher grades which I think him so worthy to hold.

I am Very Respt.

    Yr Obt. Svt.
         O. H. Berryman,
              Lt. Comd.  U.S.N.

Lieutenant Maury, to whom as the head of the Hydrographical Bureau, Lieutenant Berryman submitted his report, made it the subject of an essay, which went far to help Mr. Field's endeavor to enlist Capitalists in his project. He says that:

                     “The survey of the "Arctic" shows conclusively that between Newfoundland and the West coast of Ireland the bottom consists of a plateau which seems to have been placed there for the purpose of holding the wires of a submarine telegraph and of keeping them out of harm's way. It is neither too deep nor too shallow, yet so deep, that the wires but once landed will remain forever beyond the reach of vessels, anchors, icebergs and drifts, and so shallow that the wires may be readily lodged upon the bottom.

                     The depth of this plateau is regular, gradually increasing from the shores of Newfoundland to the depth of 1500 to 2000 fathoms as you approach the other side.

                     This line of deep sea soundings is quite decisive of the question as to the practicability of a submarine telegraph between the two continents, so far as the bottom of the ocean is concerned, and where the waters are as still as those of a mill pond, xxx consequently a telegraphic cable once laid there, there it would remain as completely beyond the reach of accident as if it were buried in air tight cases."

Armed with Lieutenant Maury's deductions, Mr. Field succeeded in obtaining the desired capital, although such doubts were expressed as to the accuracy of the "Arctic's" work, that the British government sent the "Challenger," to re-survey the plateau, and I am happy to say confirmed our work in every essential particular - the soundings not varying more than a few fathoms.

Upon leaving the "Arctic," I had a short leave of absence, which I passed in New York, taking up my residence for the time being, with my uncle John Sanford.

I must here go a little into a matter which has become historic and had a most important bearing upon the future of this country. At this time the whole country was agitated over the slavery question, and particularly the constitutionality of the Missouri Compromise Act which was practically at issue in the famous "Dred Scott case" in which my uncle John was the defendant. Dred Scott had been the slave of Dr. Emmerson, U.S. Army, the husband of my Aunt Irene. Upon the death of Dr. Emmerson he left all his property including Dred to my aunt, in trust for his only child and daughter Henrietta Emmerson, now Mrs. J. Howard King of Ridgefield, Connecticut. He appointed my uncle John his Executor and Trustee. Neither my aunt nor my uncle ever claimed any services from Dred, who was a worthless, ignorant, drunken negro, who had picked up a scanty subsistence in and about St. Louis. He fell into the hands of some shyster lawyers in St. Louis, who claimed that having been freed by having been taken into a Northern state years before, he had still been held in bondage, and that Dr. Emmerson's estate was liable for wages for twelve years that he had been illegally held as a slave. They commenced their action against my aunt, Mrs. Emmerson. Dred knew nothing and cared less about it, but these attorneys got him to sign, with his 'cross', a petition beginning a suit for freedom, claiming damages for technical false imprisonment, assault and battery against his mistress, Irene Emmerson, and it was this action instigated by attorneys, with purely mercenary motives,  that led the way to the celebrated case destined to prove one of the provocations of the civil war. This suit went on, with varying results exciting more or less comment, and Dred was remanded back to legal slavery. It appearing that my Aunt Irene had moved to Springfield, where she had remarried in 1850, Dr. C.C. Chaffee, a free soil member of congress, thus creating an issue between citizens of different states which would carry the case into the Federal Courts. Of course it was embarrassing to Dr. Chaffee, to have his wife appear as a slave owner, opposing his claim to freedom, so Dred was nominally transferred to her brother, my uncle, John F.A. Sanford, and the local federal judge only a few weeks before the repeal of the Missouri Compromise Act so instructed the jury, that a verdict was rendered, declaring Scott and his family the lawful property of my uncle John, from which verdict an appeal was taken to the Supreme Court at Washington in May, 1854.

At the time of the return of the "Arctic," October, 1856, the case was set down for re-argument for the December term. Mr. Buchanan's campaign for the Presidency would have been over, the embarrassment of a decision nationalizing slavery removed.

During the interval public attention was drawn to the full meaning of the Dred Scott case; the newspapers were commenting upon it at length; discussions ensued and some excitement prevailed all over the country.

Living with my uncle during this time, I naturally took a great interest in the case, and heard him express his views and was present on several occasions when the Honorable Reverdy Johnson was his guest at dinner. The object I have in making these allusions to the Dred Scott case is mainly to give a little of the inside history not known and never published, and which may interest our family, if no one else. My Aunt Irene, then Mrs. Chaffee, had distinctly refused to have any hand or part in the suit, and she also had declined to sell him, or exercise any right of property in Dred Scott, who, so far as her legal ownership was concerned, had been absolutely free ever since the death of her husband, Dr. Emmerson. She had only a life interest in him, the reversion being in her daughter, a minor, and for whom her brother John, was the nominal Trustee. She had particularly, since her second marriage to Dr. Chaffee, earnestly desired that Dred and his family should be manumitted wholly and legally, but was advised that this could not be legally accomplished by any act of hers.

Except in his quality as Trustee for his minor niece Henrietta Emmerson, my uncle was not at any time his owner, and was improperly named as the individual defendant. This and other matters connected therewith were discussed in my hearing between Mr. Johnson and my uncle, and as I remember, my uncle, himself a slave owner, relegated the question to the care of Mr.
Johnson and his colleagues most emphatically, moreover disavowing any personal interest, and only consenting to continuance of the case in his name, on the argument that it was his public and patriotic duty to aid in quieting a discussion injurious to the country's welfare. From the first he had refused to bear any part of the expense for lawyer's fees or incidental expenses, and always desired that his sister and himself should be cleared of any further litigation that did not involve the payment of damages by the legal owner of the worthless negro, who retained Mr. Johnson and Senator Geyer, his attorneys of record.  I do not [know who paid them, but I do know] that neither my uncle nor my aunt ever paid them a penny, nor was ever any demand made upon them. More than once Mr. Johnson said: "Now, Sanford, there will be no charge whatever to you or Mrs. Chaffee on this account; the expenses will be provided elsewhere". And it was upon this expressed condition that the suit went forward to its ultimate decision, in which of course, my uncle whose birth, antecedents and his entire sympathy with the Southern view, was in full accord, while my aunt, influenced by her husband, Dr. Chaffee -  a pronounced free soil member of congress - was wholly opposed to being considered as having any personal interest in Dred, or in the question involved in the suit. The final decision, declaring all slavery restrictions unconstitutional, aroused a storm of indignation, and roused the free states to the point of fury. Judge Taney's announcement that a negro has no rights which a white man was bound to respect, focussed public wrath upon him, while the entire South burst out in frantic applause.

The connection of Mrs. Chaffee with Dred cost her husband his home popularity, and he in consequence, failed in reelection, although he had caused the transfer of Dred and his family to a citizen of Missouri, and under the State laws they were officially freed in May, 1857. My uncle died that year. Dred died in 1858, hardly noticed, but the famous case with which his obscure name and identity is linked will outlast any monument, and in the contest over slavery his fame is assured. If there is any fame in being the nephew and namesake of the defendant, I put in a claim to it here! The real owner of Dred Scott, my cousin Henrietta Sanford King, is still living.


I found myself within the walls of my Alma Mater in November, 1856, where were assembled the four surviving members of the Advanced Class of Graduates, Selfridge, Miller, Stribling and myself. Captain John Rudd was President of the board of examiners, and with four other old captains, were to pronounce upon our respective qualifications for promotion to the grade of Passed Midshipmen.

Now occurred the, to me, most serious and untoward event of my life, giving me for a week or ten days more anxiety and bother than I can express. After dancing attendance upon the convenience of the Board, for a day or two, I was summoned before them. With the experience of one or two of my classmates before me as a sample of the general character of the examination, I was in a decided "flunk" when Captain Rudd, after endorsing my orders, said: "Mr. Barnes, please hand the Board your letters from your commanding officers, and your journals of your cruises."

Now, I had letters from all of my commanding officers, of which, to satisfy my children and any others who may be interested enough in my career to read them, I add the copies, with I hope what is termed 'becoming pride'; I don't know any other way of letting people know what sort of a chap I was or was supposed to be. I handed up my letters, but in a cold sweat was obliged to acknowledge that although I had kept journals, more or less faithfully of all my cruises, they had been stolen from me when detached from the "Arctic" and I could not produce them!

There was an ominous silence, as I entered into more extended explanations, which gained significance when Captain Rudd on reading my letters, found that Captain Stribling, in his letter regarding my conduct on the "San Jacinto," expressly stated that "I had not kept a journal, as required by the Regulations, for "which I had no proper excuse!"

I was told to step down and out, while the Board went into secret conclave, at the end of which I was rather sternly told, that they could not go on with my examination. The rule was strict; that I might state my case to the Secretary of the Navy at Washington, and with a few words of rather chilly sympathy, I walked somewhat crestfallen out of the room to my tavern, packed up my scanty belongings and started for Washington. The terrible accusation of old Stribling ringing in my ears, involving my honor, oppressed me, particularly as he so decidedly stated that I had no proper excuse, thereby implying that I had been arraigned for my dereliction, and had properly or improperly given him some sort of an excuse for it, and this in face of the statement that I had kept my journal! It gave me little comfort that in my mind I called him by a short and ugly word. A young Middy's word was of small account in such a case of contradiction as to facts. However, there was nothing left but to face the music, and I duly presented myself at the Department, was shown into the Secretary's presence by the old colored porter, Miers; introduced by the chief clerk, Mr. Welsh - who by the way had been an Assistant Engineer under my father when constructing the Western Railroad. Mr. Dobbin received me pleasantly enough and listened patiently to my tale of woe. First I stated positively on my word of honor, as an officer and a gentleman offering to supplement it by an affidavit, that notwithstanding Captain Stribling's assertion, I had kept a complete journal of the "San Jacinto's" cruise; that Captain Stribling had never asked me about it, nor had I ever given him any excuse for not doing so; that Captain Stribling had left the ship before she went out of commission, and that before that occurrence, I had taken my journal to Lieutenant Overton Carr, who had examined, signed and approved it in writing upon its last record, and that fearing some reflections by Captain Stribling, who had not given me any letter, I also secured the attesting signature of Master Brady (the author of Brady's Kedge Anchor), who as Master had received the ship when she passed into his hands, and placed that record upon my journal in his own handwriting. I also exhibited the letters of Captain Tilton, of the "Saratoga," and Lieutenant Berryman, of the "Arctic," admitting that as to those vessels, that their journals while kept were not wholly in my handwriting; as being the navigating and deck officer, the original ship's logs were kept by me, as would be found upon examining them on the files of the Department, but for the greater part my private journal was kept by me also - in my own handwriting. That when the "Arctic" was put out of commission and hurried over to the Navy Yard, I was absent on a short leave of absence, and on my return to the ship I found her deserted by officers and crew, tied up to the co__ dock [sic], and my personal effects, not locked up, had disappeared, and with them my log book; that I caused search to be made on the Receiving ship, made all possible inquiries but no one took much interest in their recovery, and I had to submit to the loss.

Mr. Dobbin or Mr. Welsh, suggested that Lieutenant Carr who was accessible, be communicated with, and a telegram was sent him, asking his recollection in the matter. A very prompt reply was received by the Department, stating that he had received, examined and approved Midshipman Barnes' log of the "San Jacinto" and remembered the circumstances perfectly!

So there I had old Stribling - confound him - I made a written statement of the log episode which may be on file at the Department, and armed with an order drawn up by my friend Moran, directed to Captain John Rudd, President of the Board of Examiners, I hustled back to Annapolis and appeared with it after an absence of two days - was duly put through my paces in seamanship and navigation, passed triumphantly, and, I was happy to find, above my classmate John M. Stribling, the son of the Captain of that name, to his, and I have reason to believe, his father's discontent. I may as well relate the interesting and surprising sequel to this rather stupid yarn, which but for its sequel would not have place here:

Forty-six years after, in May, 1902, I found in the calendar of documents, in the archives of the State of New York, in the charge of the Regents of the University of the State, the following items of its possessions: -

                                "The Journals of John S. Barnes, of cruises in
                                  the United States Steam Frigate "San Jacinto,"
                                 Sloop-of-War "Saratoga," and Steamer "Arctic,"
                                             during the years 1854-5-6.”

I applied to the Board of Regents, of which Bishop Doane was Chancellor, for their restoration to me as having been stolen from me in 1856, and after some correspondence secured the old volumes. It may be asked, how did my journals find so prominent a place amongst the Archives of my State? Inquiry established the fact that the journals had been acquired by a Mr. Henry Stevens, a bibliophile in London, from a sailor, and by the heirs of Mr. Stevens sold to the Regents of the University with other memorabilia, relating to America for the sum of $2000.00.

Having passed the examination and having received my warrant as Passed Midshipman, I was surprised by orders to report to the Superintendent of the Naval Academy as Assistant Professor of Ethics!, and I duly reported to Captain L.M. Goldsborough on the 30th of December, 1856. I was appointed "Acting Master," on the 25th of April, 1857, and drew the pay of that grade during the remainder of my service in the Navy. I continued as Assistant Professor at the Academy until August, my duties varying from teaching the several classes, from grammar and geography to moral science, during which, I fancy that I studied harder than most of my pupils. I served on Courts Martial, relieved some of the officers in the branches of the "Youngsters'" education, and generally was considered and treated as a man of all work. Many of my pupils were as old and some older than I was, as was Pardee, afterwards Judge of the United States Supreme Court, District of Louisiana, who recited his lessons to me in Moral Science. I made many acquaintances in the town and in Baltimore, became intimate in the families of the Gills, McKims, Latrobes, forming friendships that have lasted all my life. We formed a quiet little literary society, of which Mr. Ford was a leader, and used to meet in the Library of the old State Capitol, read and discuss papers and books upon all sorts of subjects - professional, literary, religious.

It was at this time that I was confirmed in the Episcopal Church, by Bishop Whitingham, and became what may be called rather serious minded and inclined to think that there was a more profitable trade in this world than learning to kill people scientifically, and wandering over it in ships for small compensation, and with the hope that by the processes of long wars and sickly seasons, if I was lucky enough to escape them, I might become a commander of a ship before I would be an octogenarian.

In July I obtained a short leave of absence, visited my uncle John in New York and relatives in Albany. My uncle was very urgent that I should resign from the Navy and go into business. He was then the active partner, in the firm of P. Chonteau, Jr., Sanford and Company, doing a general banking business in New York, mainly connected with railroad construction. They had recently been instrumental in the building of the Illinois Central, and my uncle was a director and a prime mover in that enterprise. He, in association with Alsop & Chauncey, Edward Learned, Charles Gould, David Leavitt, Mr. Manice and others, had taken over the contract of Page and Bacon, bankrupt contractors, for building the Ohio and Mississippi Railroad, and had made a contract for his firm to furnish the iron rails to be imported from England, to complete the railroad. Mr. Charles Gould was the Treasurer of the Association and had a large office in the Seamans' Savings Bank Building in Wall Street. To him I was introduced, and at the instance of my uncle, he offered me a position in his office as Assistant Secretary, mainly to take charge of the Bond issue, the bonds being used in payment for the iron rails under certain restrictions. I consented to take the place if I could obtain a furlough for two or three months, to see whether I suited the business and the business suited me. I had the idea that while I was fairly well fitted by education and temperament for the Naval service, I might find myself totally unfitted for a successful career as a business man, and in that event after a shy at the mysteries of Wall Street, I could resume the career apparently marked out for me.

Mr. Toucey, then Secretary of the Navy, upon my application, granted me a furlough of three months, and one day of August, 1857, I found myself seated at my desk in Mr. Gould's office, doing my level best to fulfill the various and novel duties imposed upon me with more or less satisfactory results. I signed, handled and counted several millions of dollars of Mortgage bonds; checked over contractors' estimates and accounts, ran errands, made deposits, copied letters, performed my own and other clerks' duties when they would let me, butted into anything and everything, and no doubt made of myself a general meddlesome nuisance, in the determined effort to make myself useful, if not necessary to the general business of the office, and to learn all there was to learn in the business affairs.

My brother William was then a law student and clerk in the office of Charles O'Connor and lived with Mr. Joseph H. Choate, in apartments in West 9th Street. I left my uncle's house and took rooms with them. They soon formed a law partnership under the name of Choate and Barnes, "hung out their single," and here commenced a friendship with Choate, which has lasted with increasing intimacy all our lives, both between ourselves and our families.

It was during this period that my brother was introduced by me to Mr. Charles Gould and his family, then living at No. 5 Madison Square, North, where we were both welcomed and very hospitably entertained. The acquaintance thus made, eventuated in his becoming engaged, and married to Miss Mary Gould, the elder daughter.

The time chosen for my first essay as a business man was very unpropitious. Financial affairs were in great disorder all over the country, the great panic of 1857 burst upon us in great fury. We were in the center of the storm, and of course the enterprise of the Associates suffered. Work was temporarily suspended, money to meet its requirements hard to get, and although my humble position did not permit of my being in the councils, the trouble was apparent and caused me to think that the Navy business, while not leading to fortune was not a bad business, after all.

Banks and banking houses suspended payments, excited crowds filled Wall Street, business generally stopped, and men took breath and wondered - What next? I remember seeing old Mr. Leavitt, one of the associates, and President of the American Exchange Bank, clad in his remarkable garb - with white hair, which added to his venerable appearance - standing at the large open window of the Bank, in full view of the howling crowd, deliberately pouring out of canvass bags, handed up to him from below, streams of golden eagles and other coins, into a receptacle, with the idea of convincing the crowd, that although the Bank had temporarily suspended payments, it had money to burn in its coffers. The crowd did not know that as the receptacle was removed when overflowing, its contents were placed in other bags, which in turn were passed up to the venerable old gentleman, and made the rounds many times, receiving in turns the acclamations of the mob.

My uncle John became very ill, partly due to the excitement caused by the worries of his business affairs and the close and unremitting attention given to them. Mr. Gould was despondent, and to tell the truth, I had enough of business, and sighed for the calmer life on the ocean wave.

My father returned from Russia, his business there being so affected by the General disorder at home, that he abandoned its prosecution. I did not consult with him nor with any one, but before my furlough expired, I wrote the Navy Department, requesting orders for sea duty in any part of the world; said goodbye to Mr. Gould and the few clerks in the office, packed up my traps, and cleared out of Wall Street and business as I supposed, forever. I must say, however, that the experience gained during this Kindergarten school was of vast benefit to me in after life and I never regretted it.

The Navy Department did not allow me to rest upon my oars, and while catching my wind in Springfield, I received orders to report for duty as Master of the sloop-of-war "Jamestown;" Commander C.H.A.H. Kennedy then fitting for sea at the Philadelphia Navy Yard. On the first of December, 1857, clad in a new suit of uniform, I presented myself for duty to the venerable Commodore, Charles Stewart, the Commandant of the Yard. He was the last of the heroes of the War of 1812 surviving and on duty, the object of special veneration by the younger officers, so a description of this veteran as he appeared to me when on active duty at the age of seventy odd years, may not be amiss, and I feel rather drawn to it, as later in my life I became somewhat too intimately - for my comfort - concerned in the affairs of his family. He had then every appearance of senility - bent, wrinkled, dim-eyes encircled with red, inflamed eyelids - walked with halting lame gait, with help of crutch or cane - spoke with muffled, almost inarticulate words. Physically he was out of commission, and out of all place in this world's activities. Mentally, however, the old man was bright, cheerful and perfectly capable of the duty imposed upon him; the onerous part of it, if there was any, being readily spared him by his subordinates in the yard. He had changed greatly for the worse since I had reported to him as a Midshipman for duty on the "San Jacinto" in 1854, but his memory was good enough to remember me, and to remark that I was one of the new fledged Midshipman of the Naval Academy, to question me as to my service since, and to remark that too much education for a Navy officer wasn't good for him nor for the service, a little prejudice which at that time existed in the minds of some of the old time officers, whose rank and general qualifications for the naval service had been based upon the instruction received in their early youth, from the ship's school masters, and in the hard school of practical seamanship.

I reported to Captain Kennedy, known as Alphabetical Kennedy because of the multiplicity of his initials,-by him, was turned over Lieutenant George Balch, the First Lieutenant, and was immediately put to work, preparing the "Jamestown" for sea service, again to my disappointment  in my old cruising ground, the West Indies.

While fitting out the ship, although my duties as Sailing Master were absorbing, combining as was the custom of the service, the stowage of water, cables, provisions and all work below decks, as well as the care of charts, chronometers, and all instruments connected with the navigation of the ship, my evenings were passed on shore until the ship went into commission, in the company of my friends, of the Bainbridge family, where I received the most cordial welcome and much hospitality. The acquaintance previously made with the Hayes family ripened into something more than mere friendship, and when the ship sailed for distant seas, I carried away with me rather decided hopes, that I dared not express, for a future domestic life with one of its members, Miss Susan Bainbridge Hayes - now my beloved wife, and companion for the past forty-five years during all its vicissitudes. I suppose that I was prudent, realizing that as a young Naval officer of subordinate rank and small pay, on the eve of a long cruise, common prudence forbade my indulging in such emotions. I had little to offer beyond my general insignificant person, so I smothered my feelings and cleared out with a heartache, tempered somewhat by the hope which 'springs eternal' that some day things might be different.

The cruise of the "Jamestown" was uneventful, but during it I formed lasting friendships. Lieutenant Balch - "Uncle George" as he was familiarly known in the service - was of the kindest, gentlest and most lovable nature, a good officer and seaman, always ready to see the best of every man's nature and find excuses for little derelictions of duty, or faults in the men - sparing in punishments, accomplishing more by kindness than by severity in the discipline of the crew, who recognized the justice of his decisions and submitted without protest when punishments were meted out for misbehavior. He was as thoroughly beloved by them as by everyone of his brother officers. Owing largely to him, the "Jamestown" was a happy ship. The Lieutenant was Stephen B. Luce, then, and all through his distinguished career, one of the most capable officers in our or any other Navy. Besides his professional accomplishments which were great, his courage and tact, his scientific and literary knowledge daily increased by constant study and reading, made of him an ideal Naval officer, fitted to fill any office with dignity and power within the scope of Governmental action. My intercourse with him then and later, I regard as one of the fortunate intimacies of my naval life.

The other Lieutenants were Samuel Edwards, J.W. Bennett and Elias K. Owen - all most excellent officers - amiable, generous mess mates and companions, making of our Ward Room mess a most united and happy family. Owen, the junior Lieutenant and I being nearly of the same age and state, became warm friends. He was of a jolly, happy-go-lucky disposition, deeply marked with smallpox pits; as was my shipmate, Lieutenant Beaumont on the "San Jacinto," both of them stricken with the same dreadful disease in Malta, where both were transferred to the "Lazaretto" and placed in contiguous cots. Beaumont used to say that when he had given up all hope of recovery, he was cheered up constantly by the weak piping little voices alongside of him, saying: -"Keep a stiff upper lip, Mr. Beaumont!" - when his upper lip was so swollen and stiff that he could not utter a word.

As to Captain Kennedy, I have only a few words to say: He was small, very small in stature and with a mind to suit. Like many small men he was apparently always on the watch for personal affronts, lest people should take some advantage of his personal diminutiveness. One had always to be on guard against giving offense to his dignity, which he supported by a constant official attitude in his intercourse with officers and men. Still, he was a fairly good seaman, never interfered unnecessarily with duty, kept closely to the perfunctory duties of Commander, his personal intercourse being mostly with the Doctor Duvall and Purser Callan.

Our cruise consisted in going over the same seas, anchoring for a few days in the same ports, that the ships of the West Indies Squadrons usually do. St. Pierre, San Domingo, Port Royal Jamaica, St. Thomas, Santa Cruz, Havana, then down to Nicaragua, here we entered the obscure port of San Juan, receiving on board the remnants of Walker's filibustering band, landing a party of sailors and marines, and taking possession of the town ad interim, and where I aided in cutting down and burying the body of a filibuster which was dangling from a gallows. We had on board Mr. Lamar, former Senator from Georgia, then appointed Minister to Nicaragua, and some of us made a trip in a little storm wheel steam boat up the San Juan river to the head of navigation, carrying him that far on his ultimate destination. The river was infested with huge alligators, and gave us some sport with muskets as we pushed slowly up the narrow muddy stream. One night we were aroused by cries for help coming apparently from seaward. On sending a cutter in that direction we picked up a canoe in which was a man and woman being dragged out to sea by some invisible power, attached to an anchor line. Whatever the power, the boat's crew succeeded in getting clear of it, and the occupants of the canoe were landed on Punta Arenas where they lived in a 'shack' in the prosecution of their vocation as fisher people. The man explained that the sand flies and mosquitoes being so pestiferous, he and his woman took refuge in their canoe, and had anchored it off the beach, when the anchor rope was embraced by a devil fish and they were being helplessly towed to sea when they shouted for help. Being of a frugal mind, and anchors and rope being scarce, he did not want to cut himself loose.

From Greytown we went to Colon, or Aspinwall, remaining there for several weeks - helping to keep order in the town filled with the going and coming crowds, to and from San Francisco, who on each arrival of a steamer, made a pandemonium of the place. The railroad to Panama had been completed and was in operation in charge of an Army Officer. We all passed over it frequently to Panama, some times on duty and some times for pleasure. The possibility of an Isthmus Canal was often discussed and discussions as to this route and the Nicaragua route being the most feasible were constantly argued. The Panama route generally was most favored, but its execution thought too remote and its cost too great for serious consideration. Of all those on the "Jamestown" at that time, I think Admiral Luce and myself are the only living men who have seen the work actually in process of completion.

Our stay at Aspinwall lasted through the hot, stifling summer months of 1858. We rode out, with all four anchors down, a fearful gale or hurricane which destroyed ships, wharves, lasting two days, during which the "Jamestown" barely escaped shipwreck.

In August a violent malignant fever broke out ashore and on shipboard. Nearly half our crew were down with it, and many died. The ship became very foul, the bilge water black as ink and very offensive. The white paint on gun and berth deck turned black, as had the paint work in the ward room, steerage and cabins. We put to sea for change of air at odd times, until finally orders were received to return to the United States, and after a hard passage we anchored under Sandy Hook with fully one half our crew "on the sick list."

We were refused "Quarantine," and were then ordered to Portsmouth, N.H., as being a better climate for our sick. On arrival, there was a general improvement in the Ship's health; the fever was pronounced not to be contagious, the sick sent to the hospital, the well transferred to the Receiving Ship. The officers went ashore to live, or on short leaves of absence, while the ship was to be broken out down to her Keelson, thoroughly cleansed, fumigated and painted inside and out. With this work done by relays of our crew and with the help of the yard hands, Lieutenant Balch and myself, as Executive Officer and Master, were charged with this duty. Although I lived ashore at the Rockingham House, and my evenings were passed pleasantly enough, I can remember no period of my Naval service during which I was compelled to do, or did more arduous, unremitting and so disagreeable work, as during the five or six weeks that the "Jamestown" half dismantled, lay at the Portsmouth Navy Yard.

It was here that for the first time I met and, under the circumstances, became intimate with Lieutenant David D. Porter, one of the subordinate officers of the yard. He and his family occupied one of the officers' quarters, and were as hospitable then as always after. I lunched and dined and spent many evenings with them. Mrs. Porter was a beautiful woman and never tired of doing kind and gracious acts. Fond of young people she gathered them informally to dances and simple entertainments, at which she danced and enjoyed herself with the youngest of her guests. I shall never forget her kindness to me and her sympathy that within a few hours of my home in Springfield I was kept at my duty on that nasty "Jamestown."

However, the ship was finally restowed, the cleansing and painting completed, the crew replaced, the other officers gradually returned to duty. Captain Kennedy again occupied the cabin, and the regular routine of a ship in commission resumed.

Then I applied for the first time for leave of absence for one week, to visit my parents in Springfield. Captain Kennedy asked if all my requisitions were in and filled, and on my assurance that everything in the Master's department was in order, he forwarded "approved" my application to Commodore Pope, the Commandant of the Yard, who promptly granted my request, and I left immediately for home, arriving in Springfield the evening of the same day. I had hardly finished with the joys of my reception, when my father placed a telegram in my hands from Captain Kennedy, which directed me to return without delay to the "Jamestown!" My annoyance and disgust may be imagined.

My father who was a very strict disciplinarian, inquired as to my course, but after I had stated the facts, he approved of my determination to pay no attention to any such order from Captain Kennedy, as my leave had been granted by Commodore Pope, who alone could revoke it.

It so happened that at the time of my visit, Judge Ira Harris, of Albany, and his wife were visiting us, and perhaps my 'sea lawyer' arguments that night induced him to think that perhaps I might be the making of a land lawyer, for after much talk on this and other subjects connected with a Naval life, and not having a very exalted opinion of its opportunities, he said: "Why don't you give up the Naval and again try civil life; why not study law, enter the law school at Albany, study in my office and take up the profession of the Law?"

I was struck dumb by the proposition. I had always had the notion that some day I would leave the Navy if I could find an opening in business, but to be a lawyer had never entered my head. To my surprise my good father fell into the proposal with - for his calm, quiet and conservative disposition - an enthusiasm that astonished me. My mother, dear lovely soul, proud of my Naval career, my uniform and the certain distinction which her mother's heart foresaw for me, rather objected, as giving up much for an uncertainty. She could hardly bear the idea of her resplendent boy, a Naval officer of rank, coming down in the scale to the humble position of a law student! She had many misgivings. I thought the matter all over, and fixed in my determination to ignore Captain Kennedy's peremptory order, and during the balance of my week's leave weighed it pro and con, discussed it with my father and Judge Harris, without coming to any firm decision. When I left to return to the "Jamestown" I was still undecided, but had the Judge's offer in mind and the full consent and approbation of my father, in case I should decide to resign from the Navy, and launch out into the untried and unknown life, which would then be before me.

I had been eight years learning my profession, had passed through all the minor grades, was fully commissioned "Sailing Master in the Line of Promotion," receiving a salary of $1500. per annum - ample for all my wants - would soon be a Lieutenant, and as things were, likely to remain a Lieutenant until I was an old man. I did not feel assured that I was built for an Attorney and Counsellor-at-Law, had no special aptitude or taste for the profession, while I did know that in which I had been trained, and in which I had met with fair success and achieved a fair reputation. The sea had called me from my boyhood; all my friendships and acquaintances were in its folds, and in my heart of hearts I loved it and was proud of it.

With my mind still adrift I reached Portsmouth, reported my return to duty to Commodore Pope, and clambered on board the "Jamestown," still made fast to the dock, saluted the flag and the officer of the deck, passed below to the ward room, reported my return to "Uncle George," was warmly greeted by my mess mates, visited my cabin, looked over the chronometers, changed my citizen's garb for my uniform, washed and made ready for duty.

Lieutenant Balch, coming below said:

"Master, the Captain wants to see you. He has got his dignity tacks aboard. I don't know what he complains about, but he seems to think that you are at fault, have over-stayed your leave or something."

Now, Captain Kennedy and I had always maintained pleasant relations - official and social. The navigation of the ship had been entirely confided to me without a single instance of any criticism or direction from him. He accepted my calculations and plottings, the courses to be steered day and night; I do not remember an instance when we had any difference or discussion. Thrice during each day at sea - morning, noon and afternoon - I was accustomed to report the position of the ship and plot it upon the chart, always spread upon the table.

Occasionally I would take lunch with him and our intercourse was pleasant enough, although his many little foibles, extreme sensitiveness and assumptions of dignity, were amusing to me as to others. I rather liked the little man, but was not impressed by him.

Announcing my coming through the orderly at the cabin door, I entered the cabin, bade him good morning, saying: "You wished to see me, Captain?"

"Yes sir, did you get the telegram I sent you at Springfield to the care of your father?"

"I did on the evening of my arrival."

"Why did you not obey that order to return at once to the ship?"

"Because I had my leave from Commodore Pope, and the order revoking it should have come from him."

"Well, sir, this was disobedience of orders, and you have rendered yourself liable to charges. I am Captain of this ship, and you are under my orders, not under those of Commodore Pope."

Some further discussion ensued upon this point, during which the little Captain worked himself up into the declamatory condition of excited oratory, pacing the deck of his cabin, gesticulating and raising himself up on tip toes to his full height of five feet, four inches.

I tried to keep quiet. I think I was firm but respectful, but I was really as angry as he was. Finally I said:

"Captain, would you be good enough to tell me the reason of your so suddenly recalling me to the ship, after having that same day approved my application for a week's leave of absence?"

"Yes, sir. When I approved your application, you stated that all the requisitions in your department were filled, and I found on inquiry, that none for the ship's water had been made. The ship was practically without fresh water, and was drawing her supply from the Yard. I therefore demanded your instant return to complete your duty."

The fact was just as he stated. I could only reply, that the Yard hydrant was within a few yards from the ship, that during the time we were at the dock we had drawn all the water we needed without formal requisition, that all we had to do was to turn the hose into our tanks and fill them in a few hours, and that I was wholly unaware of the necessity of any red tape in getting what we needed.

But this time I got on my little dignity stool myself, and in a moment of rising indignation, I said:

"Well, Captain, there is nothing to be gained by further discussion; as I intend to leave the ship and the navy, for I will not submit to the injustice of such treatment for so small an error if it was one."

He stopped short, sat down, and said in a quieter tone:

"Sit down, sir! Take a seat, sir - don't lose your temper, sir!"

I had remained standing during this entire interview. I declined seating myself, and asked if he had anything more to say to me. He seemed confused, and I saluted him, walking out of his cabin in a frame of mind which found vent in going to my cabin, and then and there writing my resignation from the Navy of the United States, addressed to the Secretary of the Navy, against the protests of Messrs. Balch and Luce, who naturally enough thought my action imprudent, done in a temper on the spur of the moment. They used many arguments to dissuade me which, while agreeable to my ruffled mind, were ineffective. I did not then say that the matter had been for some days in contemplation. To tell the truth, I do not believe that I should have resigned, but for the above related interview with Captain Kennedy, and but for him I might have been today a superannuated old Rear-Admiral on the Retired list.

However, my resignation was duly handed to Captain Kennedy, to be forwarded in due course to the Navy Department. He held it for several days, during which he made many overtures for reconciliation, enlisting the active co-operation of Balch and my other mess mates in the effort or to induce me to withdraw it. Commodore Pope also tried to make me reconsider, and Lieutenant Porter and Mrs. Porter also tried to make me reconsider, and Lieutenant Porter and Mrs. Porter were very urgent. Porter was very pronounced in ridiculing Captain Kennedy's idea that any requisition for water was ever required for a ship at the Yard. He said:

"Why, damn the little man, he might as well ask for a water requisition to put out a fire!"

At last, when everything personal was smoothed over, Captain Kennedy forwarded my resignation, which was duly accepted, to take effect on October 1st, 1858, I meanwhile continuing to perform my duties until the reporting of my relief.

The ship hauled out into the stream during the last days of September, awaiting orders from Washington, with her tanks full of fresh water, for which no "requisition" had ever been made.

Having turned over all stores, instruments, chronometers, with new ratings to my successor, I moved out bag and baggage to the Rockland House, with the intention of seeing the "Jamestown" off to continue her cruise. On the 30th of September I settled my account with the Purser, receiving the pay then due me by his book, amounting to about $450. in gold coin, which he kindly enclosed in a small leather bag. Amongst the coins were several three-dollar gold pieces - even then a rare coin, not in general circulation.

In return for the constant hospitality of Lieutenant and Mrs. Porter, we had arranged for a dance on the "Jamestown" for the evening of the 30th of September. The awnings were spread, the quarter deck dressed with flags, fiddlers were engaged. Mrs. Porter had a bevy of young ladies staying with her; invitations were given to the residents of Portsmouth, and to many of the visitors at Rye Beach - a watering place nearby, where all of us had been frequently entertained. Amongst the latter was Miss Fanny Carter, afterwards celebrated as a brilliant beauty, the wife of Pierie Lorrillard Ronalds. Every bachelor on the ship, including myself, had been more or less smitten by her manifold charms and accomplishments. Indeed, she had hosts of admirers everywhere amongst the men; women were rather shy of her, partly because of her great beauty and attractiveness, as well as the reputation she had for accepting costly presents from her numerous admirers.

She came to the ball and as usual created a sensation. McCauley, our Marine officer, was deeply smitten, and I flattered myself that I was the 'runner up' in her favor - dancing myself to a standstill, although I was somewhat handicapped in my graceful evolutions by that confounded bag of gold which, for want of a more secure place of deposit, I carried upon my person. I slept on the "Jamestown" for the last time that night, occupying my cabin in the Ward Room.

On retiring, very tired, I threw my garments in my usual careless fashion, over the chair and chronometer chest, remarking upon the weight of my treasure to some one in the Ward Room, turned in and slept the sleep of the just. On awakening and dressing, to my consternation, the money was gone, and I was practically penniless, at the outset of my new life. There was little to be done, the ship was to sail the following day at early daylight; the thief could not possibly be discovered; although Lieutenant Balch sympathized, and the Master-At-Arms busied himself in the effort by searching men's bags, to no purpose. I made as light of the loss as I could, although I felt it sorely, communicated with my father and obtained permission to draw upon him for a small amount for my expenses. I hated to do this, more than I can express, for I had rather looked to this money as my pocket money, for a few months at least, without calling upon him for anything more than was actually needed during my probation as a law student.

My father was fairly well-to-do - as well-to-do people were in those days - but his business affairs had gone awry, straining his resources to the limit, when he offered to take upon himself the additional burden of my legal education. I am rather vain of the fact, that from the time I entered the Navy in 1851, up to this moment, I had been self-supporting, and had not cost my father a penny. However, there I was, my profession abandoned, a new untried one to be mastered, without any visible means of support, my house and home about to be wafted out upon the sea, leaving me, a rather gloomy male ariadne weeping on the shore. I confess that I was blue, but made the best figure I could in facing the music - as I bade goodbye to my mess mates and to the Naval service, more than half regretting my action. I turned in at the hotel, as lonesome as a marooned sailor on a desert island. Soon after daylight the next morning I was aroused by knocking upon my door. Upon opening it, as I did in a hurry, I was confronted by a man whom I at once recognized as one who had served the "Jamestown," as Bum boat man, dealing out fresh grub and various goods and trinkets to the crew, a smart, thrifty Yankee, well recommended as a man to be trusted not to deal in liquor or forbidden traffic. He came in, seated himself while I partly dressed, saying that he heard I had lost some money on the "Jamestown" the night of the party. I said "Yes," and named the amount. He asked, "Would you recognize the money?" and of course I said "No." He produced a twenty-dollar gold piece, asking if that was one of the pieces I had lost. I couldn't say, as there were many pieces of that denomination in the bag. He then produced a three-dollar gold piece, and inquired as to that.

By this time I began to sit up and take notice, and when I said "Yes, there were several of that unusual denomination in the lost bag." "Well," said he, "I know the thief! Squires the Master-at-Arms is the man!"

I was astounded, he was about the only one who had actively interested himself in the attempt to find the thief, and as Chief-of-Police, had been persistent in searching the bags and ditty boxes on the berth deck, in guessing as to the possible culprit, and loudest in expressions of sympathy for my loss, and regrets that it should have occurred on a ship that enjoyed the blessing of his protection against such crimes. But what was to be done? The ship was to sail that morning, and even then was getting under way.

I was in a quandary; slightly relieved when my friend remarked:

"See here, Mister, I'm a regular constable in this town; if you will go aboard the ship with me, I'll arrest that man. I know he is the thief. He's been owing me for fresh grub ever since he came here. Yesterday when he overhauled my boat he put those gold pieces into my hands - didn't wait for the change coming to him. He has often tried to get me to fetch liquor. He's a darned rascal and I know it. I'm sure he has the rest of your money in his clothes."

We were soon off, I going with him in his bum boat. We got on board, finding all hands at their stations for getting under way, anchor up and down, topsail yards hoisted and braced. Lieutenant Balch was in charge of the deck; Captain Kennedy on the poop. I explained my errand, and Luce was directed to attend to the matter in hand.

While these explanations were going on we saw the Master-at-Arms issuing from the main hatchway on the run, closely followed by my bum boat friend. He ran along the crowded gangway on the starboard side, to and under the topgallant forecastle, into the round house and locked the door. Here, the ship's Corporal, the Constable and Lieutenant Luce corralled him. For a few moments he claimed to be ill, then opened the door, coming out as though in pain, and asking what was wanted of him, as innocent as a lamb.

Luce ordered the Corporal to take him below on the half deck, where he was placed between the guns and the Corporal ordered to search. Meantime, the ship was under way with a tug ahead, to get her around "Pull and be damned" point. The wind was light but fair. The Corporal, assisted by the Sergeant of Marines, felt him all over from stem to stern, he violently protesting and appealing to me, to save him from such indignity; that he had done everything to find my money.

Meantime, the Constable had made a search on his own account in the round house, and joining the group, produced the leather bag in which my money had been, and which he had found over the beams in the round house.

More protests of innocence on the part of Squires; another more careful overhauling by the sergeant, this time making him strip to a girtline - no result, nothing found.

I was beginning to feel queer. The incident had caused some commotion amongst the crew - still at their stations, and the ship slowly gaining the outer harbor. Then the Constable took a hand and asked Luce if he could search the man, and gaining assent, he told him to sit down upon the side tackles of the gun while he should pull off his boots. The Corporal and Sergeant had to force him to do so, and despite his struggles and protests, the Constable got off one boot, tipped it over, and out rolled a handful of gold pieces on to the deck; pulling off the other displayed a similar gold mine. There it all was to a dollar - the three-dollar gold pieces included. Together with the money given to the bum boatman, it made the exact sum paid me by the Purser two days before. At this Squires became dumb, but a wickeder, more crestfallen wretch I never saw. I refrain from quoting Luce's criticism of him, which was not judicial, but the purport of it was clear. Squires dressed himself, the ship's Corporal collared him, and "Jimmy Ducks" was led ignominiously to the Brig, placed in double irons. The Constable picked up my money, restored it to the bag and handed it to me.

To finish this yarn, Squires was tried by Court Martial on the arrival of the ship at Colon, and sentenced to be confined in the State Prison at Albany when I was living there, and was beset with applications to procure some remission of his punishment.

When this affair was terminated, the "Jamestown" was well outside, towing a-stern  the bum boat, also a catboat belonging to the pilot. Captain Pearson of the Navy, who lost his life by a torpedo craft blowing up the "Housatonic" off Charleston during the Civil War, was on the "Jamestown," and together we took passage on the catboat, and returned to shore. The crew, asking permission, gave me three rousing cheers, manning the rigging; and this ended my Naval experience - as I supposed - forever.


I am afraid I felt opulent, for I danced attendance upon Miss Carter at Rye Beach for a week or more, almost forgetting that if I was ever to become a lawyer, I had no time to lose. At last I shook myself clear of this enthrallment, reached Springfield, and then Albany, entered the Law School, sitting down to hard study of musty Law books under Judge Harris' kindly interest and direction. I was officially entered as a Law student in the office of Reynolds, Cochrane & Harris, the latter, Hamilton Harris, a brother of the judge. During the course at the Law school, a branch of the University of the State of New York - I attended the lectures every day, butted in on all occasions in most of the Moot Courts, wrote a number of Theses upon subjects given out, in respect to which I knew nothing, or cribbed from books, involving, of course, necessary study, attended trials of any importance in the several courts, listened to arguments of Counsel before the Court of Appeals, particularly those of the eminent lawyers of the day, Mr. Evarts, Nicholas Hill, Mr. Curtis. In attending trials of cases in which our firm was engaged, I took notes of evidence, etc., looked up witnesses, appeared in minor trials in the Justices Courts, hunted up authorities, did clerical work, ran errands, and in every possible way, tried my level best to be useful. After nine months of this arduous, if not remunerative labor, I presented myself for examination, filed my thesis upon the subject of The Admiralty Jurisdiction of Federal Courts, which I hope is not recorded against me, and was admitted as a full-fledged Attorney and Counsellor-at-Law, my commission being signed by George Gould, Josiah Sutherland, Henry Hogeboone, Justices of the Supreme Court of the State of New York, on the 25th day of May, 1859, and attested by R. Babcock, clerk of the Supreme Court, under its seal. This consummation was indeed pretty rapid work.

The Law regulating the appointments of Attorneys and Counsellors-at-Law permitted any graduate of the Law School of the University, who should pass the written and oral examination prescribed, to be so commissioned. There were few other requirements. All I can say is, that the Law was complied with and I "hung out my shingle" and drummed for practice within one year after I abandoned the Quarter deck of a man-of-war, and again commenced the task of earning my own living.

Amongst my classmates at the Law School were several young men who have attained high rank in the profession, both at the bar and as Judges. Judge Peckham of the United States Supreme Court, and Judge Hand amongst them.

During my probationary studies and work I indulged in little recreation, amusements or social life, although owing to a large family connection in Albany, the inducements for such indulgence were great, and I kept slightly in touch with them.

My mother's youngest sister, Virginia, had married Mr. Samuel H. Ransom, the senior of the well-known firm of S.H. Ransom & Co., large stove founders, an industry then centered in Albany. With a large family of children, my cousins, they lived at No. 6 Elk Street, one of the row of houses, called "Quality Row." My mother's younger brother, Joseph P. Sanford, formerly of the Navy, had married Lydia Ransom, a sister of Samuel H. and was then a member of the firm of Rathbone & Co., also stove founders. Both Samuel and Lydia Ransom were nephew and niece of Joel Rathbone, a wealthy retired merchant. Between the Ransom and Rathbone families with their multitudinous branches, all wealthy and prominent, I did not lack for acquaintances, friendships and interest, and from all I received the most cordial welcome and active interest in my professional life, as well as constant hospitality and introduction into the best social life of the city.

My shingle out, at the entrance of the building, No. 51 North Pearl Street, and my name emblazoned on the door of my office, I waited for victims. Soon I was approached by Mr. Harmon Pumpelly, a very rich real estate owner, with the proposal that his son-in-law, J. Meredith Read, Jr., and I should form a partnership, he insinuating that he would place much business in our way.

Read had been one of my classmates in the Law school; we were rather intimate socially, and I had been one of his groomsmen. I concluded it would be an advantageous arrangement, and the great law firm of Read & Barnes was formed, lasting about one year only, as I soon found that Read, like poor DeLong's famous Eskimo dog, drew a fine discrimination between hunting a live bear and helping to drag a dead one home; in other words, he took his share of the fees, but did not care for the work of our office.

However, we had a most agreeable association. He was punctilious in all social obligations, dawdled in literature and politics, gentlemanly always, even to extreme turvy dropism, and our intercourse up to the time of his death was of the most pleasant kind.

He organized a company of "Wide Awakes" during the political campaign, marched the streets clad with a leather cape, and armed with a great torch, and became so much of importance during the Lincoln campaign, that Governor Morgan appointed him on his staff as Adjutant-General of the State Militia, whence his title so amusingly displayed in all his correspondence with the Royal families of Europe - "Le General Read." He wrote or compiled a book: "A Historical Inquiry concerning Henry Hudson, etc," upon the strength of which he procured his membership to every Historical Society on the face of the earth. He secured his appointment as Minister to Greece, wrote an absurd article on the discovery of the lost arms of the Venus of Milo. He claimed great personal intimacy with all the crowned heads of Europe, particularly with King George of Greece, invited the Queen of England, the Prince of Wales to his entertainments, and only abandoned his post as Minister when the salary and position was ignored by Congress. He was, however, appointed Secretary of Legation at Paris when Mr. Washburne was our Minister during the Commune, and contributed thrilling accounts of his adventures. Finally he took up his residence permanently in Paris, entertained hospitably in handsome apartments, Rue ____,   -where I dined with him in 1891 -- always the same gentlemanly, quiet, self-important individual, with great claims of distinguished ancestry, amongst others, Joseph Reed, the Father of the American Navy, a life size full length portrait of whom with that legend inscribed upon it, adorned his wall in Paris, and which he endeavored to present to the Louvre or Luxembourg Galleries, but the authorities would have none of it. Read was a character for a novel. There never was a man built on his mould before nor since, but with it all he was kind, generous and always and upon all occasions a gentleman without the slightest aptitude for any serious occupation.

The war of the Rebellion coming on, his position as Adjutant-General became something more than picturesque, and the duties something more serious than attending to its social requirements in gorgeous uniforms - he was compelled to resign it. I have been thus prolix about Read because in many ways he attracted public attention during his life and much amusing comment.

During our partnership considerable business fell into our hands, which I am happy to say was conducted in the main successfully to the satisfaction of our clients and to the profit of our purse, so that at the end of the year I was again on my own hook, owed no man a penny, had a small bank account, and as much business as I could reasonably expect or give attention to. I had conducted three or four suits at law before the Supreme Court of some importance, argued one case on appeal - all successfully - had been appointed Referee in some litigations, guardian ad litem for minors in partition suits, mixed myself up a little in politics, particularly when my friend and patron, Judge Harris was running for the United States Senate, made speeches, attended political meetings, and making myself known, was in full tide of a successful career in my new profession, with hardly a back thought of the Navy, when Mr. Lincoln was elected President of the United States and war and rumors of war burst upon the country, and changed most abruptly the course of my life.

During my life in Albany, apart from my business, I had contracted many intimate friendships outside of my family connections, particularly after my position was assured. From Mrs. Crane's boarding house, corner of North Pearl & Columbia Streets - highly respectable and inexpensive - I had in company with Edward Hill, son of Nicholas Hill, - and a partner in the law firm of Hill, Cagger & Porter - and Howard Carroll, rented a house on Hawk Street, where we started housekeeping on our own account. Both Hill and Carroll were killed in battles during the war. Hill, a captain in the regular army was killed at Malvern Hills, and Carroll, at the battle of Antietam. We employed an elderly colored woman and her daughter as housekeeper, cook and chambermaid, and a young fellow as valet and man-of-all work. Carroll, a fine looking man, an Irishman, graduate of the Dublin University, and then a civil engineer on the New York Central Railroad, attended to the finances. We dined out frequently, all of us mixing freely in the social entertainments of the city.

I had some sporting tendencies, and with Dexter Reynolds and John Rathbone, made frequent trips West after grouse and in the vicinity for woodcock, partridges, snipe and quail, with invariable good luck. Upon one of these excursions with General Rathbone to Lenox, Massachusetts, where he rented and occupied the cottage known as "The Perch" from Fanny Kemble Butler - we, together, shot in one day  twenty-eight woodcock, a bird now almost extinct in that region. This, my first visit to the Berkshire Hills, the scenery so impressed itself on my mind, that later I bought the property adjoining Mr. Rathbone's estate, and built the place now owned by me called "Coldbrooke," where I have passed the summers for thirty years.

           "There is a destiny that shapes our ends
             Rough hew them as we may."

Perhaps those little long-billed birds, victims to our guns, on that one day's shooting, were the cause of my residence amongst those beautiful hills.  Also, on a trip with Dexter Reynolds, to the then distant and sparsely settled prairies of Illinois, in the neighborhood of Logansport where we camped out in the log cabin of a settler, we were held over at Cleveland with our dogs and met there in the little tavern, Jack and Dan Casement, who insisted upon our taking a day with them after snipe and woodcock.

Later again when the Secretary of the Government Commissioned General Warren, Mr. Blinkensdoffer and my father, for the inspection of the Union Pacific Railway, I met the Casement Brothers contractors, at end of track at Deep Run, laying the astounding amount of seven miles daily of iron rails in the race with the Central Pacific for a point of juncture which was finally made at Ogden.

In 1860 I was commissioned a First Lieutenant of the National Guard of New York. Mr. Frederick Townsend had organized the Albany Zouave Corps, became its Captain and I its First Lieutenant. Here my old Naval Academy training came into play. I drilled the men, established rules, becoming very much of a soldier in my fez cap and baggy breeches, modeled after Ellsworth Zouaves, which were exhibiting themselves all over the country in their fanciful costume and machine like drill.

Of course I would often run over to Springfield for a Sunday's visit to my parents; during one of the visits I again met Miss Susan B. Hayes, a meeting which again set me to thinking of what might be.

My mother's sisters and their families were then all settled in Springfield. My cousin, Julia Clarke, had married Abel Chapin, son of the richest man in Western Massachusetts, Chester W. Chapin. And her sister, Mary Clarke, had married William Harding, the son of Chester Harding, the celebrated portrait painter. My aunt Irene Emmerson, had also remarried to Dr. C.C. Chaffee, and her daughter, Henrietta Emmerson, the real owner of Dred Scott, passed her time alternately with her mother and our Aunt Virginia in Albany - with whom I was constantly in company. She was a beautiful girl, much sought after by various suitors; was engaged for a time to Edward Corning, son of Erastus Corning, but for good reasons the engagement was broken off on the eve of her marriage, and soon after she married J. Howard King of Albany. As this period of my life was perhaps the happiest part of it, I dwell upon it somewhat tediously to others. I was young, strong, contented, wholly independent in means, surrounded by good friends, without a care in the world, an agreeable occupation, full of ambitions for the future, received everywhere and regarded as a likely young chap sure to make his way.

The Navy had become a tradition, although I kept up a desultory correspondence with some of my old Naval friends, watching with momentary interest the movements of ships as contained in the newspapers, the occasional departure for the Beyond of old Naval acquaintances, I became as entirely separated in thought and feeling from the service as though I had been a private citizen all my life. A return to it never entered into my mind as amongst the possibilities, although there must have been some sort of a salty flavor left in my bearing and conversation, a kind of a Quarter deck mannerism, which I am told still clings to me. As a boy, I had learned to strum upon the piano and twang a guitar in accompaniment to ditties which amused my hearers. I had been one of the boy choir at Annapolis, and during my service at sea had picked up a lot of Sailors' songs, which I could roar out with some effect into the uncultivated ears of audiences. One of them, "The Battle of the Baltic," was my "Chef d'oeuvre," and rarely was I at a social gathering of intimate friends, but I was called upon to administer a dose of this famous song to uncritical hearers, pounding out my own accompaniment on the piano. Mrs. Townsend, one of the intimate friends and near neighbor of my Aunt's, had considerable musical talent and improvised a rattling composition based upon my very irregular rendering of the music, whereupon in response to encores, many a time, in tones from falsetto to deep base, I would shout myself hoarse, over the brave hearts, who died on the deck of fame by the stormy Elsinore. I think my reputation as a sailor was chiefly owing to Campbell's grand poem - which, by the way - I had picked up by ear, as it was sung by a British Lieutenant at a dinner given to the ward room officers of the H.B.M. Line of battleship 'Immortal' at Colon. Although not much of a dancer, like most Naval officers, I had learned to skip about to music with considerable agility, if not grace. Balls and dancing parties were frequent, and as young dancing men were rather scarce in Albany, my talents in this direction were in requisition, giving me plenty of exercise.

Speaking of exercise, I joined a gymnasium, where for an hour or two I lifted weights, swung dumb bells, skinned the cat, boxed and otherwise distorted my frame and joints. I held the championship for heavy weight lifting, raising from the floor with the lifting machine upwards of 700 lbs. In the attempt to beat the record I strained the muscles of my back, keeled over, was cared for by Dr. S. Oakey Vanderpoel, laid up in ordinary for a week or more, and have ever since, all my life - suffered from lumbago at intervals. This put a stopper on my gymnastic performances. Every town of importance then was provided with gymnasiums. A man named Winship was going about giving exhibitions of strength, lifting 2000 lbs., and physical exercises were the rage.

During the excitement following the nomination of Mr. Lincoln for the Presidency, I had a visit from my old class mate and my most intimate friend at the Naval Academy, Philip Porcher of South Carolina, who was attached to a ship then in New York harbor. He was very despondent and down-in-the-mouth as to the situation, declaring that from the advices he had received from his family in Charleston, he was positively sure that his State would secede from the Union, if Mr. Lincoln should be elected, and that he would be compelled to leave the United States Navy, to which he was devotedly attached. I remember my saying to him jocosely, "Well, Phil, if you do, I will have to take your place and go back to it!," never dreaming that such tremendous events as were breeding, would come to such results. The next and last time I saw poor Phil was on a flag of truce boat, off the harbor of Charleston, while I was on the "Wabash" blockading that port, we looked at and nodded to each other, but did not speak. Soon after, on a blockade runner, he perished with all hands on his boat in a gale off Bermuda. I have a portrait of him in my collection, a daguerreotype of him and his room mate, Graham, who died from Yellow Fever on ship-board in 1858. Porcher was really one of the loveliest, gentlest, dearest fellows I ever knew.

Saratoga Springs in those days, was the resort not only of those seeking benefit from its waters, but in the season the scene of gaiety and pleasure. Its proximity to Albany made it an easy and inexpensive trip, so that I was occasionally invited to, and attended the grand balls given at the United States Hotel where Albany lady friends were visitors. At one of them, seated in the great dancing hall, rather winded from exertion, with Miss Forsythe by whose invitation I had come there, she ejaculated: "Oh, Mr. Barnes, do look at that beautiful woman!" and who should I see but Miss Fanny Carter, of Rye Beach memory, entering the ball room on the arm of her father. I named her at once and immediately joined her, she receiving me with manifest pleasure, and on her father's surrendering her to my care, we promenaded the room, joining in the waltz, landing her by the side of Miss Forsythe, to whom I introduced her. Her beauty and graceful dancing had attracted attention; she was absolutely unknown, was for the first time at Saratoga, coming there with her father who sought the benefit of the waters. I introduced a number of young men to her, and she became unconsciously the belle of the evening. She was certainly the most beautiful, and with her charming manners, the most attractive young woman, with many cultivated talents.

Amongst the men who sought an introduction was Peter Lorillard Ronalds, a homely, rather awkward man, reputed of large wealth, as one of the Lorillard heirs - who attached himself to her train, followed her to Bellows Falls and to her Boston home, and a few weeks later I received a letter from Miss Fanny, informing me of her engagement to him, and asking me to "say nice things about her" to Mr. Ronalds' guardian and trustee, Mr. Augustus Conklin, then a member of the legislature at Albany, who did call upon me, having been told by his ward that I knew the Carter family and could tell him all about them. Of course I spoke of her in terms of admiration.

As Mrs. Ronalds has, for many years, occupied very brilliant social positions, first in New York, and later abroad, always prominent for her great beauty and manifold attractions, as well as for a very romantic career, and such intimacies with sovereigns, princes and titled gentry as to fill many pages of comment, I relate here my very trifling connection with this remarkable woman; today, it is said, one of the intimate personal friends of the Queen of England - not connected by duty with her official household - and the leader at the age of nearly seventy years, of one of the most fashionable circles of London.

She visited Lenox a year ago - still beautiful and charming. I was ill and did not meet her, but she met my son, and on learning his relationship, remarked that she hoped to see me, and told him that his father "was a nice boy."

Throughout the Lincoln campaign I was as ardent a Republican as any, and in my small way at Albany, worked as hard for his election as I knew how to do. At the same time my law business was increasing in amount and importance. Amongst my friends and one of my classmates at the Law school, a fellow student in the Law office of Reynolds, Cochrane & Harris, was Henry Rathbone, a stepson of Judge Harris. On the election of the Judge to the Senatorship, Rathbone had succeeded to some of the business of the Judge, and it had been arranged that at a proper time, Rathbone and I should join partnership, and with the Senator as Counsel, conduct our law business together. This arrangement was never perfected, as the impending troubles put a most decided end to the consideration of all plans for the future. It is impossible and it would be useless to go into any particular description of the situation of affairs at Albany during the summer and fall of 1860. The city had a large democratic strength. There were assemblages in streets and halls, resulting almost in riots, and frequently in fights and threats, in the violent discussions of hot-headed patriots and copperheads, which became intensified after the election of Mr. Lincoln in November, 1860. Naturally, I became more or less mixed up in these side shows, and became personally interested in the development of the war spirit all over the land. States seceded one after the other; Naval and Army officers followed suit, joining their several States and the Southern cause; the bombardment of Fort Sumter occurred and the War was on. Enlistments of volunteers under the first call progressed, and as First Lieutenant of the Albany Zouave Corps, Captain Frederick Townsend having succeeded my former partner Read as Adjutant General, I fell into the command of the Corps, and my first regular duty was to receive and conduct to a camping ground, established where the Park now is, the train loads of volunteers from 'up State' which poured into the rendezvous at Lanby - a pretty tough lot of roistering young men they were, who acted as though going on a picnic. We crowded them together in heaps as they dismounted from the trains, surrounded them in groups and marched them, singing, shouting and straggling to the camp, many escaping to the sidewalks, drinking in the saloons, and notwithstanding our efforts, doing pretty much as they pleased, but always bent upon having a good time - their officers as well as the rank and file . At the camp, consisting of tents placed without much regard to military order, they were under the guard of some companies of the State Militia, but there was little or no attempt to maintain discipline, although under the orders of General Rathbone, assisted by some army officers, the organizations of the recruits into companies and battalions went forward with good results.By the 1st of January, 1861, I made up my mind that the Military service was not for me, and that if I was to take an active part in the forthcoming unpleasantness, the Navy was the more appropriate place for me. Indeed, it was a simple impossibility for any man who had been in the Naval or Military service, particularly graduates of West Point or Annapolis, to remain aloof and not offer his services to the Government in its time of need. The boys would have thrown mud at him on the streets, besides I was thoroughly alive to the consequences of a disruption of the Union, enraged at the attitude of the South, and bound to do my little endeavor to force them to return to their allegiance to the old and now glorified flag. During the month of January, 1861, I composed an eloquent address to the Secretary of the Navy, setting forth my opinions, relating my previous services, and offering my valuable aid to the Government in the suppression of the wicked rebellion, in case it had need of them. I did not retain, or if I did it is lost to history, a copy of my patriotic proffer, but the reply of the Secretary will be found in my personal records, and was rather a cooling sedative to the fever. In effect it was that if the Government wanted my services, they would let me know. Such a crowd of Naval officers, including almost without exception everyone who was born in or hailed from a Southern State had "gone South," but it is a remarkable fact that not a single ship of the Navy had been surrendered to the Confederacy, but those on foreign stations had been brought to Northern ports and given up to the existing Government before their Southern officers abandoned the service, which in almost every instance, they did with great reluctance and regret.

Navy men were never politicians, never voters, had no firm location or place, few if any were slave owners. The questions which had disturbed the public mind and created intense feeling, they had no lot or interest in. The glory of and honor to the flag which they had carried to distant seas and lands as the emblem of their nationality was always uppermost in their minds and thoughts, and they hated the idea of warring against it, under colors yet unknown to them, yet the ties of kindred, the natural love of the soil upon which they were born and raised, the importunities of friends at home made it impossible for them to do otherwise than to resign their commissions, eventually to enlist in the common defense of what they came to consider the evasion of their homes and firesides by the Northern hordes. A few sought service abroad; several, as did my old Commander Tilton, preferred to die than fight on either side. A few like Farragut, Upshur, Corbin and others, remained loyal and true, attesting their faith by their works in many a contest.

During the winter of ‘60 and ‘61 the majority of my Zouave company enlisted in the army and my military talent was not greatly needed. I retained my commission, but sought other fields than the Camp ground for recruits, in which to display it. I continued to work out the law cases con-fided to me, but declined to take on new business; indeed, everything not connected with Government business was slack. People forgot to quarrel over their petty affairs, when the greater one was absorbing attention. By April, 1861, I had nearly closed up my law business, the remnants I turned over to Mr. Rathbone, and I determined to go to Washington, see the Secretary of the Navy in person, and demand some sort of employment connected with the Naval Service.

Senator Harris, then in Washington, had taken great interest in the matter, and offered to introduce me to the Secretary, and urge upon him some action in regard to my application, as well as that of my uncle Joseph P. Sanford similarly situated as myself.

At about this time Washington was threatened; the fight with our troops going there through Baltimore took place; General Butler had seized the ferry boat at Perryville and Havre de Grace crossing of the Susquehanna river, and had taken possession of the Naval Academy at Annapolis. Regular communication with Washington was interrupted or broken entirely. General consternation and hurried military operations prevailed all over the country, North and South.

On reaching New York City, where I was met by my brother Will, I called upon Mr. Gould, his father-in-law, who was a member of the Union Defense Committee of the Citizens of New York, who said I was just the man they were looking for to carry despatches to Washington. I jumped at the proposal, was taken to the Committee's rooms, No. 10 Pine Street, introduced to Mr. Prosper M. Wetmore, Secretary of the Committee, who at once appointed me "Dispatch Agent," and before nightfall placed with me despatches to Mr. Lincoln, General Scott, Mr. Seward and others, with orders for their delivery into their hands at Washington. I secreted them about my person, left in the train for Philadelphia, packed myself to Perryville during the following day. All communication South of this place was broken, except by way of Annapolis by vessel. Colonel Dare with a regiment of militia held Perryville, and from him I secured an order to take passage to Annapolis in a steamboat just leaving with troops for that place, where I arrived the following day. My old Alma Mater was in a sad state of disorder. Butler was rampant, strutting about, issuing all sorts of practicable and impracticable orders; the grounds once so neat were strewn with the debris of camps, the barracks filled with soldiers, as were the recitation halls, chapel and buildings. The Midshipmen were corralled on the practice ships. Militia officers, as the men, totally unused to such conditions, seemed to be in a maze of confusion. Some of the dandy Seventh Regiment of New York were wandering about seeking shelter and food, both of which were scarce. I sought General Butler - every one seemed to be seeking him - explained the urgency of my errand, showed him my orders and my despatches, and asked to be forwarded to the Annapolis junction with the Baltimore & Washington Railroad, whence I would work my way to Washington. While talking with him in the recitation hall, where he had established his headquarters, the Seventh Regiment boys addressed him, asking him where they could sleep? His reply was immediate and forcible:

"Damn you sir, sleep where you can; do you take me for a chambermaid!"

A small locomotive had been rescued and put in working order on the little one-horse railway to the junction, and upon this I reached the junction then held by Colonel Carr with a New York regiment. Getting the loan of a horse, as no train service to Washington from Baltimore existed, I got forward to a point on the railway, where meeting a train out of Washington, I finally reached the Capital.

I could mention that my progress was facilitated by the active interest in the object of my journey by T. Bailey Myers, the Acting Adjutant General at Annapolis, the father of Theo Mason of the Navy, with whom this was the commencement of a long and pleasant intimacy and friendship. On reaching Washington, after ablutions and repairing damages due to the incidents of a very rough journey, I hastened to the State Department and delivered my despatches to Secretary Seward, taking his receipt for them, as directed by my orders - fairly glad to be delivered of my task and burden. I had only a few minutes with Mr. Seward, and with his son Frederick, Assistant Secretary of State, both of whom were up to their eyes in a sea of papers. My despatches to Mr. Lincoln and General Scott they undertook to deliver, sending them at once to their addresses.

I thence passed to the Navy Department, and learned that a few days before the outbreak at Baltimore, an appointment as Acting Lieutenant on temporary service had been sent me at Albany, with orders to report for duty as navigating officer of the Steam Frigate "Wabash," then fitting out at the New York Navy Yard. There was no time to lose but I waited a day or two, rested, looked about at the unusual sights in and about Washington, while traffic was being restored between ___________ Baltimore and beyond. I was compelled, however, to go first to Annapolis, where Joe Miller of my class was left in charge of the Naval property there; on my arrival he took me in, fed me and made me at home in his quarters. I found Mr. Abram Hewitt wandering about the grounds, homeless, hungry and not well or strong. Introducing him to Miller, he also looked out for him, I surrendering the cot assigned to me,  sleeping that night on the sofa. He was a friend of my father, a son-in-law of Mr. Peter Cooper, was later Mayor of New York, Member of Congress, always a prominent and influential citizen.

The acquaintance thus made brought about a correspondence later in my life upon the subject of my entering into business in charge of the Trenton Iron Works, controlled by the Cooper interest, which amounted to nothing, but our families have always been intimate.

Communications being re-established, I went to Baltimore, thence via Harrisburg to Philadelphia by the Northern Central Railway, as the direct line by the Philadelphia, Wilmington and Baltimore road was so obstructed by trains crowded with troops, munitions of war, provisions, camp outfits, that regular passenger service was abandoned. I think that journey was about the toughest experience I ever had on land. Finding no seat or other accommodation, I got into a freight car, partly loaded with coffins, containing bodies of soldiers who had even then given their lives to the cause in the Baltimore riots, and had been awaiting transportation North. The line was overcrowded with trains, long waits ensued at every side track, the night was hot, the air oppressive and foul, the cars filled with all sorts of rough people, many noisy and drunken, so that as I dozed seated upon a coffin, I wondered if this was War. The thought of that night makes me now fully agree with General Sherman's often quoted sentiments on this subject.

We lumbered along all that blessed night, getting to Philadelphia some time the next day. I was about as used up an individual as can be imagined, and without thought of anything but a bath, a bed and grub - I found all at the hotel - and turned in and slept like a log until the following Sunday morning.


As this day was the turning point of my life, the incidents which led to it and the day itself are never to be forgotten. There seems to have been a fate in it all to which everything had led with that mysterious invisible force which controls our lives. To state in a brief and practical manner, what happened on that bright, clear Sunday seems best. Before the day was over I was formally engaged to be married to Miss Susan Bainbridge Hayes. I came to the city the night before, worn out, dirty and hungry, with no earthly possessions to speak of beyond a few dollars in my pocket and the contents of a handbag. I had no idea of marriage or of contracting an engagement to marry. So far as my future lay before me it was dim, misty, uncertain in any way I looked at it. My recent profession abandoned, my former one resumed, a War impending, the end of which no one could pretend to foresee. I was only an Acting Lieutenant on temporary service, with the very smallest chance for any distinguishment, and an absolute certainty of so small a remuneration, should I be lucky enough to escape the dangers of the sea floods and combats, that I would have enough to do to support myself in all reasonable conscience.

When I awoke late that morning, I found that I should have to wait for the afternoon train to New York, where the "Wabash" was in waiting to swallow me up for an indefinite time, and it came into my mind that I would call upon the acquaintances formed years before, when fitting out the "San Jacinto" and "Jamestown."

Perhaps, lingering in my mind like the almost forgotten strains of a pleasant tune, was the agreeable recollection of Miss Hayes and the moments passed in her society, and the charming hospitalities extended to me by her mother and all the Bainbridge family, when as a boy I needed just such kindly interest at the outset of my career.

Whatever was the inducement, the determination took form that I could not better employ my idle hours in Philadelphia than in the renewal of the acquaintance. So I brushed my clothes, had my shoes polished, submitted by shaggy head and face to the barber, made myself as presentable as my circumstances and limited wardrobe permitted, looked up the address in Spruce Street, and at about church time rang the bell at No. 1344, and inquired very casually if the ladies were in? Had they not been at home I would in all probability left a card, wandered away, taken the evening train and - well, I don't know what my future life would have been. They were, however all in, and ready for church. I will not say more than I was immediately made at home, and responding rather reluctantly to the invitation to join in the procession to the church, that of the Reverend Dr. Morton, I marched by the side of Miss Susan, sat by her, listened to her devotional murmurs, more than to the fervent patriotic prayers and sermon, returned to the house with her, in rather a disturbed state of mind - requiring some self-communing before action. I declined staying to dinner. I just wanted to think a little all by myself, went back to my hotel, which seemed a hateful, barren place and the hungry strangers there vulgar nomads.  Before leaving the delightful home life of Mrs. Hayes, I intimated that if agreeable, and they had no engagements, I would return there for tea. Mrs. Hayes urged me to come, and Miss Susan joined in the wish, and I was given to understand that four or five o'clock would find her at home and very glad to see me.

Wireless telegraph is called a new invention, and I suppose it is - for commercial purposes - but the wireless intelligence which passes quicker than the electric fluid, in a single glance of the eyes, conveys to a man and woman a mutual understanding of a reciprocal feeling which is known the world over as love! I knew from that moment that I was a gone coon, and that if she would take me, my destiny was fixed, and that she should be informed of my state of mind that very afternoon and decide my fate. If I were writing a love story for the magazines I could make it fairly interesting to the young folk who delight in such things; how Claude stood before Claire, proclaiming his poverty and devotion, and spreading his pocket handkerchief carefully on the floor at the feet of his idol in economic effort to spare the knees of his best trousers, threw himself frantically into a praying posture and awaited his doom. I did the poverty act all right, and if we had passed the rest of our lives in the poorhouse, Sue could not have complained that I had deceived her.

At all events, my poverty, the war and its dangers, the certain separations, the impossibility of any immediate fulfillment of engagements - these and all other contingencies fled like dew before the sun, and - well you expectant listeners, just imagine what happened!

Sue and I (I called her Sue then and always thereafter) communicated the news to her family that afternoon, whose objections, if they had any, were not apparent, and we walked off that evening to spread the intelligence through the town, and particularly to Mrs. Rogers and Cornelia, Sue's most intimate friends.

I am inclined to believe, that had news of a battle, the capture of Washington, the blowing up of the Capitol and the enemies approach to our vicinity been promulgated, we would have regarded the intelligence as a trifle, not worthy of our consideration. Mrs. William Rogers, living in a fine house on Rittenhouse Square, was wealthy, handsome and wise. I had a very slight acquaintance with her and her daughter, Cornelia, but I knew that they were of Sue's dearest and most intimate friends. She did not express surprise at a condition that was so great a one to me, and by some process of divination, said she knew it was coming.

However, there was little time at our disposal for receiving congratulations and best wishes, and I left Philadelphia the following day  for Albany, reaching there on the 6th of May, found my appointment and orders to report to Commodore Breeze, commanding the New York Navy Yard, on the 22nd of May. I took the oath of allegiance, and with my acceptance of the appointment, forwarded the same to Washington, packed up my books, papers and superfluous belongings, closed up as far as possible outstanding business affairs, working like a beaver every waking hour, bade goodbye to relatives and friends, astounded many by the announcement of my engagement, rushed over to Springfield, where I created the same astonishment, and perhaps consternation amongst my family. I rushed to New York, bought some semblance of a Naval uniform, and on the day named in my orders, reported for duty to old Commodore Breeze, and was immediately directed to report to Captain Mercer, commanding the "Wabash," as the Navigating officer. She was still at the dock, nearly ready for sea, so that at four o'clock that afternoon, I found myself again on the deck of a man-of-war, in charge of anchors and cables, bawling out orders, and responding "Aye, aye, sir!" to those from the Quarter deck, as the huge frigate hauled out into the stream, and slowly pushed her away to an anchorage off the Battery. It did not seem queer to me, this transformation - I fell into it as naturally as a duckling into water. My experiences as a young pettifogger vanished from mind and memory as completely as though they had never been. It was just as if I had passed the last few years on leave of shore duty. I knew just what I had to do and how to do it, without advice or assistance from any one. The work assigned to the Navigating officer by the practice and customs of the service was as familiar to me as though it had never been interrupted since I resigned and left the "Jamestown." What one learns in his youth, I fancy is the best learned, and I am sure that after all said and done, I was better fitted for the Navy than for the Bar or any other occupation.

I can here "clap a stopper" on this long spun yarn, and refer for a recitation of my Naval exploits and experiences during the long, bloody and disastrous war which followed, to the letters written by me to Sue, and to her as my wife during the four years of its continuance. Those letters which she preserved, numbering several hundreds, she was unkind enough to bring out against me, many years afterwards, when, with our grown-up children, seated by our fireside, induced by some references to our young life, she produced several and read aloud to them. They are only remarkable for the egotism which naturally enough appears in what may be called "Love letters," although that particular phase of mental condition, was suppressed or only intimated by my wife when she read them - by mutterings of 'so - on, so - on' to which the irreverent children would cry out, "Give us the 'so-ons' mother!"  Also, naturally I did not hide my little light under a peck measure, and perhaps my sweetheart and wife was ready enough to construct a Naval hero out of the scanty material I gave her, and thought my criticisms of leaders of armies and oracles of Senates so just and true, as to be worth preserving for future historians; perhaps she then thought them marvels of composition. Whatever she thought about them, she kept every one, and asked for more of the same sort, as I have abundant proof in her answers to them, also preserved in the archives of the Maison de Barnes.

My elder son, James, who was at the time these particular effusions were brought to light, a magazine and book writer upon naval subjects, thought them of some commercial value in his line of business, so I spliced them together in consecutive form, sent them to Appleton's Magazine, which produced them with numerous illustrations, as one of the personal relations of the last month of the life of President Abraham Lincoln, and for this contribution the publishers paid me $400.00. I would like to sell the entire lot at the same price. Such as they are, omitting the "So-ons," they have been typewritten, illustrating with prints, portraits and autographs, bound by Bradstreet in three heavy portentious volumes, and if any curious persons wish to know how I lived, what I did, what I saw, what I thought, when and where I fought; the great and little men I knew, or was associated with, my opinions of them; how I would have managed things to end the Civil War instantly - like another "Mickey Free," all they have to do is to borrow those books and wade through them.

The "Wabash," commanded by Captain Mercer, with Lieutenant Corbin as executive officer, went at once upon the blockade off Charleston, where she laid mostly at anchor within plain sight of Fort Sumter now flying the stars and bars, all that summer a beacon, lighthouse and guide, to any blockade runner desiring to enter or come out of the harbor. Her huge hull and lofty spars made her a conspicuous object day or night. Still, her presence, sometimes alone, constituted a legal but ineffectual blockade. Had the federal government a real, instead of a sham navy, I know that it could readily have assailed and driven out the defenders of every fort and battery then on the Atlantic seaboard. We were daily surrounded by fishing boats manned by negroes, but did not molest them - there were no contrabands during the first few months - nor did we communicate with them as they passed and repassed, bowing and scraping. We almost grounded on our beef bones, occasionally getting under way, moving in a little closer for a better view of Sumter and its detestable flag, but never near enough for an exchange of shot. An occasional flag of truce on some frivolous errand would come out, on one of which I met Phil Porcher. We fished for edible fish, and also killed sharks, which in great numbers, and of immense size, attracted by the ship’s offal swarmed about the ship. One of our crew falling overboard was torn to pieces and devoured by them, in plain sight of us. Lieutenant Luce and a seaman, bravely but uselessly, jumped overboard to attempt his rescue, but clinging to the life buoy had a narrow escape from the same fate. It was a tragic scene, fully related elsewhere.

We managed to stop several sailing vessels who almost ran into us, bound into the harbor, and sent them home as "prizes," but many passed out unmolested at night. The "St. Lawrence," another big frigate, fell in with a privateer,the "Petrel", that got to sea past us and sunk her with a broadside. This was the first hostile shot exchanged, for the impudent little craft actually blazed away at the "St. Lawrence" before sinking.

However, the war was progressing, and plans for its prosecution projected on the coast, which took form in an expedition for the capture of the forts at Hatteras Inlet, the troops all new recruits under the command of General B. F. Butler, and the fleet under Commodore Stringham.

Of course the "Wabash" jointed the fleet, and after about as bungling an affair - hardly to be called a battle - as ever occurred in any war, the forts were captured, occupied and held throughout the war. This was heralded as a Great Victory, and as the first joint operation of the army and navy, comforted our friends and greatly disheartened our foes, causing the rebels to practically abandon their defense of the inlets to the sounds as untenable. There is no doubt, had the affair been followed up, every town and place of importance on the coast of North Carolina, and the rivers of that State, including Wilmington, could have been taken possession of without resistance. Parker, in his "Recollections" in summing up the account of this event, in which he figured on the rebel side, says:

"The enemy made a great mistake in not taking complete possession of the sounds immediately after capturing Hatteras. There was nothing to prevent it; two of the small steamers under Stringham could have swept the sounds, while a small force could have occupied Roanoke Island; had the Federals seized their opportunity, but they failed to make use of it." In this connection he further says:

"Another striking instance of this occurred when Butler landed at Bermuda Hundreds in 1864. Had he advanced promptly and boldly he could easily have taken Fort Darling and even Richmond itself."

But whoever knew Butler to do anything boldly. He played to the galleries ever. He never  landed at Hatteras until it surrendered to the fire of the fleet, made a hasty visit to it, with Stringham, and embarking on what he called his flagship, went off home to receive the plaudits of the country amidst a flourish of self-blown trumpets.

This was my first "battle," and so little corresponded to my ideas of what a battle was or should be, that I confess that I was somewhat chagrined that it was so absolutely a commonplace target shooting match with no one hurt on our side, although the constant roar of our heavy guns and the very apparent destruction of the enemy's works by the bursting shells and sure loss of life within them, was dramatic and to a notice highly exciting. We were all novices in those days. I find in my letters such scathing denunciations of the conduct of this affair, the management of the fleet and the conduct of Butler, that I won't further discuss it, than to say that while I worked my gun division as steadily, took as careful aim, and hit our enemy as often as any, if this was a "baptism of fire," it was a very rose water christening. I do not think there was a man scratched in the fleet, except perhaps, on the little "Monticello," ordered by Stringham to enter the inlet when he thought the fort had surrendered, but had not, and got a peppering when close up to Fort Clarke, and Braine had a tight squeeze to get out again.

Immediately after the surrender, proud of one or two shots embedded in our hull, we were signalled to proceed off Charleston and resume our monotonous and ineffectual blockade.

The "Wabash" was a grand ship, had a fine set of regular officers, a splendid crew in perfect discipline. The ship was in perfect order and condition for any war-like purpose suited to her class.

Captain Mercer was a very small man in stature, but a thorough gentleman, although his advanced age made him timid or rather cautious in taking responsibilities or initiative. As navigating officer, my personal relations became intimate and my contact with him close and of daily frequency, and I had his complete confidence. As others did afterwards, he rather leaned upon my experience in civil life in his official correspondence, in dealing with prizes, and flags of truce, etc., as well as upon my skill as a navigator, consulting me often as to the questions arising, and trusting my computations in navigation completely. Corbin, the first Lieutenant, one of the few Southerners who stuck to the old flag, was as fine a specimen of the gentleman sailor and as rigid a disciplinarian as ever trod a deck. The other ward room officers had no superiors in any service. We had a happy ship, although we all growled, sailor fashion, at our enforced idleness. It was soon ended by orders North to receive on board Rear-Admiral DuPont and staff, who was to take charge of the South Atlantic Squadron, a new division and ostensibly for active operations supposed to be against Charleston. On our way North, we fell in with the "Seminole," and came near blowing her out of water, mistaking her for one of the rebel cruisers, which were already playing havoc amongst our merchant fleets on the coast, she corresponding in appearance in the darkness, to descriptions of them.

The "Seminole" had not responded intelligently to signals nor to hail, as we drew nearer and nearer to her with the crew at quarters, guns loaded and trained upon her, awaiting the command, to give her a broadside which would have annihilated her. She changed her course suddenly, someone singing out lustily: "This is the United States Ship 'Seminole'!" and in a minute we were crashing together, boats smashing, yards breaking and falling, as we rolled in the swell, fortunately slight and the sea very smooth. We cleared her after a few moments of chaos, and I was sent on board of her to ascertain her condition. The "Wabash" was not materially impaired. I found her Captain almost dumb and overwhelmed with apprehensions. He was just out of port, had a green set of volunteer officers, had a green crew, and complained bitterly of his helpless condition. However, his ship was not in any danger. We lay by him and helped repair damages that night, and he went on his way, not exactly rejoicing, although had he known it, he had cause for it. The "Seminole" had another commander very soon after.

The day following this scrape, we fell in with a brig off Frying Pan Shoals, chased, fired at her from our bow pivot, and finally brought her to. I was sent as boarding officer, and as we pulled up under her stern, saw painted on her stern "Mary Alice - New York." Her people were not active in giving us a line, but I clambered on board, met her skipper, demanded and received her sea letters - finding that she was ladened with sugar bound from Ponce Puerto Rico to New York - everything seemed "en regle," although the general bearing, sullen and rather uncivil answers to my questions by the skipper had made me suspicious, and caused me to make a more thorough examination of the brig's crew.

I had everyone mustered on deck in a line, and calling out the names found on her shipping list, I compared their persons with the descriptions of each name, finding discrepancies in height, colors of hair, eyes, etc. I was framing some conclusions in my mind when my attention was called to the staring eyes, frightened face and wistful look of a negro, rated as cook on the muster roll. He stood next the skipper who had a scowling, threatening bearing or attitude towards him. I called to the darky to step out of the line, which he did with wonderful alacrity as though for refuge. Turning to the skipper I taxed him with deception and demanded the truth, whereupon another man who had claimed to be a passenger came forward saying: "Well, I suppose the jig is up, this brig was a prize to the Confederate privateer 'Dixie,' captured on the 25th; all of us except that nigger belonged to the 'Dixie,' and I am in charge as prize master."

Meantime, Captain Mercer, getting impatient at the delay, sent another boat with a message that the "Wabash" could not be longer delayed, and if I was doubtful about the brig, to let her go, but I finished the examination as above, and in an hour or two we transferred the privateers men to the "Wabash," substituted a new prize master and crew, and sent her to her original destination. I think she was the first prize or recapture at sea of the war. Every officer and man later received his share of the prize or salvage money, paid him in person by me, under a proceeding in court never after followed, as all questions of prizes thereafter were through the regular decrees of the admiralty court and the moneys disbursed through the Treasury Department. The most interesting feature of the affair was the conduct of that poor darky. He told me that had I passed the brig, he had determined to jump overboard as my boat left her; that the real skipper had sworn that he would kill him if he made a sign to me, even if he hung for it; that he was an escaped slave, and knew they would return him to his old master, etc. But he had promised to keep quiet and had told them he would be glad to get back South; that he hated the Yankees, etc., and apparently he had gained their confidence. If ever there was a happy and grateful man, it was he, when I left him.

During this affair the "Wabash" had been drifting about, hove to or working in circles about the brig, and it was noon before we parted company with her. Owing to my protracted seance on the "Mary Alice" no one had thought of taking the meridian altitude sight at noon, so that in plotting the position of the ship and shaping the course, I had to use the log writings for the reckoning with the uncertain allowances for drift, leeway and erratic courses during the three hours and more that the "Wabash" had been dancing attendance upon the brig. However, I gave the prize master his positions, and shaping a course well clear of the shoals, we had hardly got straightened out upon it, when another sail hove in sight, another short chase, another prize, this time a schooner just out of the sounds of North Carolina with a cargo of turpentine and rosin bound for England. Again I boarded her - Captain Mercer impressed with my handling of the "Mary Alice" case, selecting me. There was no trouble here. She was a clear case, and the "Sarah Starr" was soon with a new skipper and crew, sent home a genuine prize. She had only been one day out of New Inlet. While transferring her crew, the "Rhode Island" supply ship, came up, and from her we took much needed supplies of fresh meat and vegetables to which we had long been strangers. It was nearly dark before we got free from our second prize, and the "Rhode Island," and again by Dead Reckoning shaped our course northward. I made large safety allowances, enough I thought to carry us at least 15 miles east of the point of shoals, but owing to currents, drifting, faulty steering, irregular hourly records on the log slate, and the excitements of the day causing the watch officers to be rather careless in noting her run and drift during the ten hours we were knocking about and my absence at noon, my allowances were insufficient. The ship had got inside the Frying Pan Shoals more than the 15 miles I had allowed her so that the N. E. by E. course given her, fetched her up on the extreme eastern point of the worst and most dreaded shoals on our coast, and there, but for what the religious people would call the kind care "of that sweet little cherub who sits smiling aloft," the bones of the stout old "Wabash" would be resting and those of her crew would be awaiting the final call of "All hands!"

I was tired but supremely contented with my day's work, had a first rate dinner upon the "Rhode Island's" fresh meat and trimmings and was forward on the gun deck, smoking my pipe, and chatting with Corbin and  Mr. Monroe, a very gentlemanly Southerner, taken out of the "Sarah Starr." The sea was smooth, no wind to speak of, the night dark but clear, sails all furled, yards pointed sharp, speed the ship's best, about 6 or 7 knots - hour about 9-30. My intention was to keep the course until midnight, when I would haul her up to N. N. E. I remember being particularly interested in Mr. Monroe's views of the conflict between the North and South from a Southern standpoint. He was intelligent, well educated and reasonable for a slave owner in his views of the great question; when suddenly a tremor seemed to pass through the ship, then a slight thud, another, a little heavier. Like a flash I knew we were on those shoals. With a rush up the fore hatchway, followed by Corbin we were on the bridge; the engine stopped, but the ship was forging ahead bumping on every swell of the sea! Reversing the engine, she kept afloat, but continued to strike the bottom; her head slowly paid around to the eastward, and when, on watching the compass I found her head pointed to the south of east, I insisted upon going ahead full speed with helm a port, with some faint objection on the part of Captain Mercer, who did not think we had gone far enough astern. The argument was short, and the good ship faithful to her helm, glided off with only one or two more bumps, and was soon in deep water safe and sound. Of course there were reports and correspondence, but I may add that so far as I was concerned, there was never any unpleasant criticism. but it was a 'close shave' and taught me a good lesson on the reliability of Dead Reckoning, which, all said and done, is only guess work at best, and which had its fruits when later in the same ship I navigated her at the head of the big fleet of Admiral DuPont around the projecting shoals of Cape Hatteras in a furious gale on our way to Port Royal.

On October 7th, 1861, the "Wabash" was in New York harbor, and Captain Mercer left us and Rear Admiral DuPont and his staff, consisting of Captain C.R.P. Rogers and Lieutenant Preston came on board, the "Wabash" hoisting the broad pennant of the Flagship of the South Atlantic Squadron.


It was evident that something more than blockade service was contemplated. Preparations commenced in New York, were carried forward on a heretofore unprecedented scale at Hampton Roads, where the "Wabash" dropped anchor on the 18th of October. I still continued as the navigating officer. I was impressed most favorably by the remarkable personality of Admiral DuPont. He seemed the embodiment of all the elements that make of a sailor and gentleman, an Admiral of a fleet. Handsome, dignified, yet affable and courteous, learned in his profession, competent in all its branches, exact in the strict performance of his own duty, equally so in exacting the same attention from his subordinates, quiet and observing, just and impartial, he attracted faithful and earnest men to him with affectionate and respectful regard - I know he did have mine. Subsequent events confirmed my early impressions, with an admiration for his personal courage - physical and moral - that has never been lessened or turned by the criticisms of him following the first attack by his fleet upon Charleston.

It was not until the 28th of October that Admiral DuPont's fleet, after manifold delays, convoying a large army under General Timothy Sherman, set sail from Hampton Roads - the grandest, most imposing maritime sight I, or any one this side of the sea, ever witnessed. Upwards of fifty ships, men of war and transports studded the sea in close order of three columns, the "Wabash" leading the center column. Captains John Rogers and Charles Henry Davis had jointed DuPont's staff, and General Sherman and his staff also took passage with us. Amongst the latter was Horace Porter, and as he has taken occasion in his voluminous contributions to Magazine history of the war to comment upon my horsemanship, I take this occasion to remark that he was just the worst sailor I ever saw, succumbed at the first ripple, and was dog sick the entire voyage - and funny always, he seemed to be proud of it when well!

All went well at first, as the fleet had to conform to the sailing orders, keeping pace and place with the slowest, the flagship. I was specially careful in the navigation, giving plenty of room for the inner column to clear the projecting shoals. In this of course, Captain Davis, a noted astronomer, took part in advice over courses, but the observations and computations were wholly done by me and results accepted without question. On rounding Cape Hatteras, giving it a wide berth, the threatening weather turned into a furious gale, and the fleet was dispersed in all directions, each ship looking out for its own safety. Looking to such an event, each ship had been provided with sealed orders to a rendezvous off Port Royal, although it had been generally given out by newspaper correspondents, those fertile spies upon all movements - that Charleston was our destination. On the 4th day we found ourselves with forty of our consorts off Port Royal. Six of the transports had been lost, or had wandered, with loss of life on several which foundered after rescue of most of the troops on board.

A whole day passed in surveying the shoals and buoying the channel, which work was done by a little surveying steamer, the "Bibb", on which I was engaged with Captains Davis and Rogers, during which Commodore Tatnall with a mosquito fleet attacked us, but was driven back by our gun boats under Captain Ammen. That evening and the next morning saw the fleet, including the troopship and transports, safely within the shoals which stretch out some miles beyond the inner harbor and form a perfect breakwater in time of storm. A gale suspended the attack the next day, but we improved it by a reconnaissance of the defending forts, drawing their fire, and by the formulating the order of the attack by the Admiral. It seems a waste of time and ink to describe the battle of the following day, and I should confine myself to the part I played in it - small as it was. I am not writing a history of the war nor of the navy, but only the adventures of one of the millions of youngsters who, old men today, are amusing themselves with the music of their self-blown horns.

In addition to my duties as "navigator," I had command of, and drilled the third division of great guns, ten 9-inch Dahlgrens - the after division on the gun deck. I had also the command of the rifle brigade of blue jackets, to be employed at need, for landing parties with the marines. In the five circles made by the fleet between the forts, Beauregard and Walker, each circle coming nearer to Fort Walker, I worked my battery first starboard, and alternately the port guns for all they were worth, personally passing from gun to gun, sighting and firing in the "fire at will" order - from 10-second fuses we came to five-second fuses at distances from 1200 to 500 yards. The constant roar of the guns, the clouds of smoke drifting through the open ports, the half-naked sweating bodies of the stalwart men laboring at the gun tackles, the rushing about of the powder monkeys and shell men, the cheers and shouts of command, the occasional passing of wounded men through our division and lowering them to the sick bay established on the orlop deck, the lulls in our firing on the turns, and the view of our close following consorts, pouring in turn their streams of shot and shell upon the enemy's works, responding only at intervals, while spouting sand, bursting shells and flying fragments attested the accuracy of their aims, all contributed to the excitement of the hour, and banished even the idea of personal harm. Jackson, Captain of the forecastle, a splendid handsome sailor, mangled by a heavy shot, as he was placed in the cot to be lowered below, touched his forelock to me, feebly whispering "Hurrah!" He died before the surgeons could touch him. A man of one of the forward divisions came hopping along like a frog, stark mad; three men seized him and carried him howling, below. At one of the turning points, firing ceasing, I took a turn on deck where I could see better than through the port; as I stood on the starboard "horse block" a rifled shot from Fort Walker passed clean through the main mast, just missing Admiral DuPont and his staff on the bridge, and throwing a shower of splinters over him and all on the quarter deck. Corbin waived his hat at me, while the Admiral never moved his binnacles from his eyes. On coming before Port Walker the last time - not 500 yards away, it was evident that the rebels had enough. The "Wabash" dropped her anchor. I went aloft to the main top, and could see the garrison flying out into the woods in all directions - the log of the "Wabash" says that I so reported it. Captain John Rodgers went ashore under a flag of truce, ostensibly to receive the surrender, but there was no one to meet him; the entire position was deserted. My rifle brigade was called away, landed immediately in front of the works, and rushed into the forts. Captain Rodgers had previously, searching for some one, hoisted his boat's flag on a flag pole near the half demolished barracks. I had brought with me a large ensign, which with Captain Rodgers and old quarter master Dennis, we hoisted over Fort Walker. Meantime, the transports came rushing up from below, the troops landed, our rifle brigade was with some difficulty collected, re-embarked on tugs and to the ship. Sailor-like, except those posted cut on picket, they had the first chance at the camp and looted it extensively, bringing to me swords, pistols, a double-barreled shotgun, and curiously enough several articles of feminine adornment found in the deserted tents and barracks, one of which, a really beautiful fan I accepted, and it is now doing duty at the opera in the hands of my daughter, while the dress sword of the Captain of the Washington Artillery Company of Charleston, hangs on my wall at Lenox. There were many dead men lying about, many guns were disabled, and the interior of the fort a wreck. The body of Dr. Buist, a celebrated surgeon of Charleston I found in a bomb-proof - lying on his back half stripped, uncovering a frightful wound from a shell fragment. It was afterwards sent under a flag to his friends, together with his trunk intact as we found it. Captain Raymond Rogers came ashore, and gently read a part of the funeral service, as we buried the dead. By his order I made a rough sketch of the fort, describing its battery, etc., which will be found in the Naval Records. Late that evening, while getting my men off to the ship, I met Horace Porter, then a Lieutenant on Sherman's staff, with his trousers off wading ashore, who sung out: "Hello, shipmate! Here we are!" Lively as a cricket, he evidently rejoiced that his contact with salt water did not extend much above his knees. When I have seen him gravely presiding at meetings as President of the Naval League, I have recalled his wretched seamanship exhibited on the "Wabash," and his joyful skipping ashore on the sacred soil. Fort Beauregard on the opposite side of the bay was evacuated without a shot, as were all points and places bordering on those waters. Had any energy been shown, we could have also taken Savannah and perhaps Charleston that week. They were practically defenseless from attack by land, and their people in great consternation and panic. The garrison at Hilton Head fled through the woods, meeting Commodore Tatnall's little fleet on Scull creek and, being given ample time, passed to Savannah. Had Sherman pushed his army in pursuit he could easily have captured the entire lot, and had our gun boats followed Tatnall's, they could have taken him and cut off the retreat of what was simply a disorganized frightened mob; all the rebel reports show this was not only feasible, but they wondered why we did not make a request for a surrender which they were fully prepared to grant. However, "hind sights are better than fore sights." Our army settled down and made itself comfortable, contenting itself with little fruitless expeditions in conjunction with gun boats, made easy by the practical abandonment of the defenses of all the bays, rivers and harbors on the coast from Charleston to Florida, the only one held being Fort Pulaski at the entrance of the Savannah river, which in its turn was battered to pieces and surrendered later; Charleston and Wilmington, N.C. remained the only ports where an outside blockade was to be maintained on the Atlantic Sea coast.

In the course of duty I surveyed the Savannah river and Mud creek, in company with Captain John Rodgers and the present General James H. Wilson, then a Lieutenant of Engineers, going close to Savannah, had a perilous night in a canoe, manned and piloted by negro fishermen, establishing beyond doubt in Wilson's and my mind, that our gun boats could readily pass above and out off Port Pulaski, if not capture the city itself. Captain Rodgers, however, differed in his report, which Wilson and myself declined to sign, so nothing came from it.

Our fleet took possession, in turn, of Ossabaw and Warsaw Sounds, New Brunswick bay, the St. Johns river, Fort Macon, Jacksonville and Mosquito Inlets, without serious opposition. In all of the expeditions I may say, without exception, I took part either with my "Rifle brigade" of blue jackets on shore or, in command of one of the armed launches of the "Wabash," having most interesting experiences sometimes under fire, but ordinarily our processes of occupation of abandoned forts and rebel positions were rather peaceful.

One reconnoissance was accompanied by an introduction to a musketry fire of our foes, which led me to prefer my natural element - the sea - as a field for practical expressions of my patriotism.

With General James H. Wilson on my launch, and a company of soldiers on small tugs, we passed up Wilmington creek, a small stream encircling Tybee and Wilmington island, and connecting the Savannah river with Warsaw sound. Coming quite near to the suburbs of Savannah, the soldiers landed in the swamps. I put on shore my boat Howitzer, and we slowly pushed ahead, encountering what is called a sharp fire from a force concealed in a clump of live oaks and shrubs. Wilson thought it best to fall back to the boats. Tatnall's little fleet were passing in the river quite near. We had seen all we wanted, and with a few wounded soldiers we retreated, firing, while my little 12-pounder boat Howitzer on wheels helped to keep our enemy from being hasty.

Wilson, brave and energetic, had armed himself with a new-fangled repeating gun called a "Burnside" rifle. We were in a ditch together, seeking some shelter. His rifle had a jammed cartridge which effectually arrested its machinery; he pulled and pulled at it, uttering exclamations at each failure, consigning its inventor and the gun itself to perdition in language unparliamentary, making "the air blue." I remarked: "Wilson, don't swear so!" with no effect. We left a few poor fellows stark in the marsh, carried to the boats the wounded, embarked in good order, and were soon  [          ] beyond further attack. Swords on such occasions are of no use except as cumbersome badges of office, nor are Burnside rifles.

The effect of the Port Royal affair upon the Confederates was so great, that every fort and battery erected with great pains and engineering skill, at any place accessible to our gun boats, was abandoned in great haste; they did not wait for us to assail them.

At St. Mary's, as we approached, the inhabitants and the soldiers fled. The long train of cars loaded with furniture and personal effects pulled out as we came near the town. On it was a Mr. Yulee, a famous Southern politician, and the rear guard of the Confederate Troops. Our gun boats fired at the moving train, when the little locomotive with two or three cars was detached and made for the bridge, crossed it in time and disappeared in the woods beyond. A small sidewheel stemboat with "Darlington" painted on its paddlebox also was winding about in the muddy narrow stream, making for the upper shallow waters. In our launches we pursued and overtook her hard aground, and filled with a shrieking, hysterical lot of women, old men and children whom we had difficulty in pacifying. I was left temporarily in charge of the prize. I don't know what they expected, but such a pandemonium of terror stricken people made the job no easy one. The engineer was half drunk, very sullen, and I noticed that roaring pine wood fires were blazing in his furnace, and the steam guage showed high pressure. We had no engineer with us, so putting him in charge of a sailor, I said to him: "You let the steam off, open your doors and obey orders, and if you don't, you (addressing the sailor), blow his brains out!" "Yes sir!" said Jack, pulling out his pistol, cocking it and edging up close to the fellow, who concluded instantly, and well he might, to do his work. The "Darlington" was loaded to its capacity with household goods, amongst them a large black bear, which later was shipped on the "Wabash," and became a funny and grotesque pet of the crew, until she came to a tragic end. Evans, in his "Sailors Log," tells some stiff yarns about poor "Bess" who was the heroine of many an escapade, and made lots of fun, but became so mischievous - but never vicious -  that Corbin determined to send her ashore and let her roam at will on the deserted islands at Port Royal.

She was induced by Foley, the boatswain's mate and her particular friend and chum, to enter the launch, and on reaching the shore had to be dragged out of the launch. On sniffing the long-forgotten odor of the soil, she commenced turning somersaults, rolling over and over, until she disappeared from my sight as I watched the landing with my glass from the ship, the launch's crew following her. Foley reported almost in tears on his return that poor "Bess" rolled until she died. I could fill a page with accounts of her amusing tricks and cunning.

I got the "Darlington" afloat and moored her to the wharf, and her pacified passengers went back to their deserted homes, taking their goods with them, and the army folk took possession of the boat. I went ashore, visited the train at which I had fired from my boat Howitzer, and saw a ghastly sight. Seated upon an old sofa placed on a flat car with piles of chairs, bureaus, etc., were the decapitated bodies of two soldiers, guns between their knees, both evidently struck by the same shot. I hope it was not from my gun.

The taking possession of Jacksonville was an interesting proceeding, and the "Wabash's" launches playing an important role, as we were towed up the St. Johns River by the light draft gun boats, we raided the shores, took possessions of and spiked the guns of the several abandoned forts. In one of them we found a solitary and not unhappy prisoner who made haste to surrender. I had a talk with him. He said his battery - a very well built one, with four heavy 32-pounder naval guns, pointing directly down the stream -  was commanded by the Reverend Mr. Smith, a Baptist preacher of the neighborhood who, upon seeing our gun boats, said: "You boys stay here and fight, and I'll go back here a piece and pray for you" and that was the last they saw of him, so they concluded they would do likewise.

Jacksonville was in flames as we anchored off the town, the large lumber mills, cotton storehouses and warehouses sending up dense masses of smoke. It was useless to attempt to extinguish the conflagration, but we landed in the town, were met by some of its officials - who were promised protection. I was ordered, with my boat guns and men, to the outskirts, and went into camp, having three howitzers and about fifty bluejackets to hold the bridge. There were several alarms during the night, but nothing happened to greatly distract my slumbers, stretched out on the soft side of a plank, except the knocking down, with the butt of my pistol, a crazy drunken sailor who "ran a-muck" through some negro cabins and our camp creating a great disturbance, almost in the presence of the enemy a few hundred yards away, on the other side of the bridge. He was later on in the hospital and sick bay for some weeks; and on recovery he came "to the mast" and hat off thanked me that I did not shoot him. The troops coming up that night, the sailors were relieved of shore duty, and I took up my quarters on the "Ottawa" with Captain Thomas H. Stevens. It is a somewhat interesting fact that Judge Fraser, in whose office at Jacksonville I wrote a line to my wife, afterwards was my next door neighbor at Elizabeth, New Jersey, and his son Philip, a clerk in my office. The Judge claimed to have been a Union man and persecuted for his stand against the rebellion.

While at Jacksonville, we were told that the famous yacht "America" had run the blockade into the St. Johns river, and was now secreted in the swamps above. An expedition was started to find and recover her. The steamboat "Ellen", with the launches, found her, sunk in deep water, her masts betraying her location. The "Ellen," under Acting Master Budd was left to raise her. Her sails and some rigging were found secreted in the nearby swamp. A sailor, by diving into her hold, succeeded in placing long tapered pine plugs into auger holes, bored along her keelson; Captain Budd built a coffer dam around her hatchway, and with his steam pumps and tackles raised her. She was sent North and by some process best known to him, General B.F. Butler got possession of her as a yacht, but she finally came back to the navy, sailed in one of the big yacht races, upholding her fame, and was used as a practice ship at the Naval Academy. All I had to do with raising her was in her discovery.

The "Wabash", collecting her launches and men, proceeded to Mosquito Inlet, where the insignificant, improvised gun boats "Penguin" and "Mary Andrew," under another Acting Master Budd and Acting Master Mather had forced the entrance and lay inside. Arriving off the Inlet late in the afternoon, we saw the vessels inside were in trouble. A sailor was seen making frantic signals on the sea beach. On fetching him on board he told a startling story of a fight with guerillas - the killing of both Budd and Mather, with many of their crews, his escape and fear that both ships were in the possession of the rebels. Our launches and cutters were called away, armed with double crews, and with myself in command of the party, we crossed the bar and boarded the "Mary Andrew" pell mell on both sides. I had doubted the sailor's yarn as to the vessels having been captured, but nevertheless arranged the programme upon the basis of the fact, and it was a mercy that no one was hurt as we clambered in upon her low decks, cutlasses and pistols in hand. They were without commanders and much demoralized, the purser of the "Mary Andrew" being about the only officer who had not "lost his head." A number of wounded men were lying on her decks, amongst them poor old Dennis, the quarter master who had helped raise our flag on Fort Walker, and who died soon after I distributed my men between the "Mary Andrew" and "Penguin," got things into shape, and waited for dawn, despatching a cutter to the "Wabash" at anchor in the offing with a note to Captain Raymond Rodgers, explaining things. It seems that Budd and Mather the day of our arrival had gotten up a boat expedition to visit large accumulations of live oak timber belonging to the Government when the war broke out, and known to be some four or five miles up the Inlet. They reached the timber and set it on fire, unmolested, but on their return in the narrow stream were opened upon by a murderous rifle fire from the bushes at close range. Budd and Mather were killed outright with most of their boats’ crews. Many were killed or wounded in the boats following them. Budd's and Mather's boats drifted ashore and were taken by the rebel guerilla bands; the men in the other boats jumped overboard and floated down stream, holding on to the gunwales until out of range. Some swam to the opposite shore, as had the sailor whom we had picked up off the sea beach. When daylight came, I moved both vessels up opposite a plantation house, in the midst of a beautiful orange grove, fired a few shells into the grove and at the house, where some ununiformed but armed men were seen. A white flag was raised, and I sent a boat to communicate with the bearer of it. He was a very decent sort of a chap, the owner of the house and grove, also the Captain of a guerilla band raised in the neighborhood.

He had the bodies of Budd and Mather by him, rolled up in matting; also the bodies of the killed sailors; his wounded prisoners were in the house, and he offered to let me take the dead and wounded if I wanted them, and handed me Captain Budd's and Mather's watches and other personal effects taken from their bodies. I took the bodies of the Captains, buried the other dead, and removed the wounded to the vessels. While the parley was going on some of his men appeared, and filled our boats with delicious oranges! Such is war! The bodies of Budd and Mather were later sent to their families with their trinkets.

New commanding officers were sent to the "Mary Andrew" and the "Penguin," and Mosquito Inlet remained in our posession to the end of the war, without further disturbance.

Up to this time I had, as other officers of the "Old Navy", been serving as "Acting Lieutenant on temporary service" under an irregular appointment by the Secretary of the Navy, being thus distinguished from the Acting Masters and Ensigns appointed from the Merchant Marine. The Navy Department had recommended to Congress the reinstatement of the officers of the old navy to the regular navy, and to the same rank they would have held, if they had not resigned. The President had endorsed the recommendation, but up to this time Congress had not acted upon it.

Admiral DuPont had constantly, since commanding the Squadron, urged this measure, for reasons amply set forth in his letters to the Navy Department, of which he kindly gave me copies, which with the recommendation of the Secretary, Mr. Welles, will be found in the collection of my official correspondence. On the return of the "Wabash" to Port Royal from these Southern expeditions, finding that Congress had failed to act in the matter, he determined to give me a command of my own. The old fishing companion of my youthful days in Springfield, and our neighbor, Commander Albert G. Clary, was then in command of the converted gun boat "Dawn," stationed in Ossabaw sound. Clary, well advanced in years, not very active and in poor health, desired to be relieved of his duty, so after some conversation with me, the Admiral ordered me to relieve Commander Clary, and I soon found myself the Captain of this tidy craft - my first independent command of a ship-of-war. Important alterations were made in her accommodations and battery, building me a spacious, snug and comfortable cabin, adding to her armament a 100-pounder rifled Parrott gun, and I resumed her station in Warsaw and Ossabaw sounds, as proud of my ship and the duty confided to me, as much as if she had been a Line-of-Battle ship. I held this command and station from the 19th of August, 1862 to the 31st of March, 1863, during which time the "Dawn" was engaged with the batteries at Bulah, Fort McAllister, and participated in the attacks upon and destruction of the Confederate steamer "Nashville" in the Ogeechee river, as well as in numberless expeditions ashore and afloat in those and contiguous waters. Several other vessels, the "Wissahickon," Commander John L. Davis; the "Connemaugh," Commander Reed Worden; the monitor "Montauk," Commander J. L. Worden, and various other vessels from time to time made up the force, and formed a happy little pugnacious society of our own, our squabbles with our opponents being interspersed with days off, hunting over the deserted sea Islands for the wild cattle and hogs, which supplied our crews with fresh meat; fish and oysters were abundant and delicious, and the waters and lagoons were covered with wild ducks, affording good sport, which a captured double barreled shot gun enabled me to indulge in frequently. On one of my excursions in search of fresh meat, our landing party were following a small drove of cattle, when out of the woods came a little dried-up wrinkled, young-old man, armed with a gun. He turned his weapon, muzzle-down, leaned upon the butt and stood in a thoughtful attitude, hat off, motionless. We surrounded and took him in. His name was Murphy, a former fisherman and pot-hunter, and claimed to be a good pilot in the inner waters of Georgia. He had resisted being drafted into the rebel army, and taken refuge on the abandoned sea island, where he had supported himself for some time with his shot gun and plunder of abandoned houses. I took him on the "Dawn," got him rated as a pilot, brought his shot gun, and he turned out one of the best of pilots, the best sportsman, thoroughly informed of every turn, twist and trail of the region, and withal the bravest little chap that I ever knew. I turned him over to Pendergrast who relieved the "Dawn," and he it was, who thrust a boarding pike through Lieutenant Pelt, the commanding officer of the boarding party from Savannah, which captured the "Water Witch" in Warsaw sound, and made Pendergrast and nearly all his crew prisoners. Poor little Murphy, at the same instant was shot dead and fell by the side of Pelt, almost the only one who put up a stout resistance on that occasion and fought like a demon. I keep that old shot gun of his as a memento of him and the many pleasant hours, at off moments, passed with the wild fowl and game, whose habits and haunts he so well knew.

One incident may serve to show the sort of spirit which found home in his little weazened frame. We were after ducks on Raccoon Key; a big brilliant cock mallard rose from a muddy branch, and fell to my gun on the opposite side. I gave it up reluctantly as a "lost bird" - not so, Murphy. Although bitter cold, he stripped, and taking a header plunged into the muddy stream. The water where he struck was barely a foot or two deep and the bottom soft mud or ooze, and there he stuck head down, his skinny little legs waving desperately a few feet from the bank. I got hold of them, hauled him ashore, gasping and nearly dead, plastered with mud to his chest. He cleared his eyes, face and hair, and notwithstanding my expostulations, threw himself again into the stream, flat on his chest and paddled himself across, retrieved the duck, scraped off the mud, put on his clothes; when shivering and teeth chattering we got back to the “Dawn,"  a stiff hot toddy was administered and completely revived him. This may not be a war incident, but I relate it in memory of this brave little fellow who gave his life to the cause, but like another is unwept and unhonored and his deeds unsung.

The Privateer "Nashville," with a cargo of munitions of war had succeeded in getting into the Ogeechee after depredations on our commerce before our occupations of the inland waters. Our blockade was therefore more important, to prevent her escape to sea, a possibility which gave great concerns to DuPont and the Powers at home. She was a powerful ocean sidewheel steamer, heavily armed and equipped, and lay plainly in sight but above Fort McAllister - out of range of our guns.

Our little wooden fleet had made several attempts to get at her, but our fight with the fort, as well as torpedoes and obstructions prevented our reaching her. Her presence, and constantly threatened attacks like that of Pelt, caused extra vigilance and precautions at night; my nights were passed on deck, our positions shifted after dark; men slept at the guns, steam kept up; picket boats with signals stationed up the streams and steel nettings spread against hoarders. The work was tedious and wearisome. Admiral DuPont determined to bring things - so far as the Nashville was concerned - to an end. The monitor "Montauk" under Captain J.L. Worden, the famous commander of the original "Monitor," and one of the first improved duplicates of her class, joined our little fleet at Ossabaw, also one of Porter's mortar flotilla, which had put into Port Royal in distress. With these additions, we delivered ineffectually several attacks upon Fort McAllister, kicking up clouds of sand, dismounting a gun or two, and being forced after several hours bombardment to drop down and out of range; on one occasion the "Montauk" was much hurt by striking a submerged torpedo, compelling her to run upon a mud bank while the leak was stopped at low water. During these scrimmages the "Dawn's" 100-pounder rifle did its duty, but it was not a strong gun, and we were cautioned against its excessive use. These repeated attacks, however, determined the Confederate commander of the "Nashville" to make an effort to get to sea, but on a dark night following our attack the "Nashville" grounded, and the morning showed her still aground, but quite near the fort. Our fleet moved up promptly; the "Montauk" took position regardless of the fire from Fort McAllister," and firing her big guns across the strip of marsh within easy range of the "Nashville," soon set her on fire and she blew up with a tremendous concussion; fragments of her wreck came floating down to us with the ebbing tide.

That Mortar boat! As her commanding officer hardly knew the difference between a 13-inch mortar and a shot gun, Worden asked me to show him how to load train and fire it. Great things were hoped but not expected from it. My experience with mortar firing was limited to the occasional practice with them at Annapolis. The schooner was anchored close under the rank marsh grass and from her mortar I myself fired, all the shells used; few reached the target and few exploded. After the war, at Thomasville, Georgia, I saw one of them placed as an ornament in the front garden of Dr. Hopkin's, who told me that he was the surgeon at Fort McAllister during our engagements, saw one of the mortar shells bury itself in the sand, marked the spot, dug up the shell and transplanted it to his garden as a specimen of the things "you Yankees flung at us."


Meantime, preparations were made for the attack on Charleston, the only remaining stronghold on the coast of the South Atlantic. The "New Ironsides" and monitors were assembling at Port Royal in numbers warranting the attack in the opinion of the Navy Department, which had an overweening confidence in their power to assault and demolish the forts defending Charleston and capture the city itself without the assistance of any army in taking and holding it. Much against his judgment, based largely upon the ineffective work of the "Montauk" at Fort McAllister, unable to obtain the active and earnest assistance of General Hunter, DuPont decided to make the attack with his fleet alone. In accordance with his promise to me, he kindly ordered me temporarily to the "New Ironsides," upon which he hoisted his flag, and the attack came off on the 7th day of April, 1863, failing most signally.

I am not going to give any detailed account of that affair. The best unprejudiced and unofficial relation of its principal features will be found in Captain George E. Belknap's contribution to the "United Service" of January, 1879, entitled "Reminiscent of the 'New Ironsides' off Charleston," which gives minute particulars of the preparations for, and plan of attack, the incidents of the battle, the description of the ships engaged, and discusses very cleverly the reasons of its failure of results.

Had I room I should quote the entire article with the comment "Them's my sentiments." There is, however, one incident to which he refers that I am vain enough to quote:

        "The vessels were not fairly under way until fifteen minutes past one, then

                    ‘There was silence deep as death
                     And the boldest held his breath
                     For a time!'

One of our comrades, Lieutenant-Commander Jack Barnes had sung Campbell's stirring  ode the night before in a sympathetic way to the accompaniment of a guitar and the refrain of the heroic verse danced in many a brain at that moment."

It may be remembered that my civilian friends in Albany based their estimate of my Naval prowess upon my howling of this heroic verse and here again almost the only recognition of my distinguished presence at this memorable action is also based upon my musical acquirements.

As I am an unassuming individual, and as this is my book, I venture upon a more extended account of the circumstance, remembered and related by Belknap. On joining the "New Ironsides" temporarily on Admiral DuPont's staff, I had no special duty or station at first assigned me. I slept in a cot or anywhere, messed in the Ward Room, making duty for myself in any and every way practicable, but was through courtesy, given command of the third division of the gun deck battery, consisting of four 11-inch Dahlgrens on each broadside. The evening before the fight, the "New Ironsides" was stripped of masts, boats, and upper tackle, her weak decks covered with sand bags and stinking green cow hides, her sides thick with slush. She was slippery, dirty, and a foul-smelling iron floating box. The hatches were left open for necessary ventilation. After supper, everything ready for, and all expecting, a hard and certainly a bloody fight on the morrow, a lot of the Ward Room officers collected under the main open hatchway for air, suggested music to while away the time and a distraction. Some one sung a ditty, and inspired by the occasion, in turn I gave them the "Battle of the Baltic" with more than usual force and disregard of musical rules of rhythm and scale, but as Belknap prudently expresses it, sympathetically.

The Admiral, Captain Rodgers and others, pacing uneasily the deck above, stopped and listened; a number of the crew also gathered around the hatchway. I was compelled to repeat it, some of the fellows joining in the refrain, and we received an ovation of applause as I closed my performance with my deepest possible bass:

                "On thy wild and stormy steep

I think if there had been any 'nosegays'  about other than those foul-smelling hides, I would have got one or two.

As to the fight the next day, I saw but little of it, cooped up and only getting a glimpse of daylight through the portholes, as the shutters were triced up for firing. The much vaunted monitors were soon more or less disabled; the "Keokuk" sunk, riddled by the enemies’ fire; the "New Ironsides" became unmanageable in the narrow channel, and had to anchor over an enormous submarine mine which fortunately failed to explode, and the fleet having been exposed to a very heavy concentrated fire was compelled to retreat; the attack was abandoned, the monitors returned to Port Royal for repairs which they sadly needed, and Admiral DuPont came under the most undeserved criticism from the Navy Department, which resulted in his being superseded by Admiral Dahlgren.

I do not fancy that my opinions as expressed at the time were of much value during the sharp and acrimonious debates, accusations, aspersions with which the official correspondence was replete, as well as absurd criticisms of the Monitor clique in the Department and out of it, but I give them all the same:  First: that the monitors were irresistible against any other ships then afloat in any Navy; Second: their offensive qualities against well constructed earth works, were nil; Third: that DuPont erred in giving away to the clamor for taking Charleston by means of them alone, when his own judgment was firm that without co-operation from an army, the task was impossible; Fourth: Believing this, his plan of attack, should have had for its only object the demolition of Fort Sumter, not the capture of Charleston City. This was feasible or had promise of such success in whole, or in such part, as would have redounded to his credit and that of the really experimental Monitors, upon which the Department and the Country had based such enthusiastic hopes. The shock of this self deception was somewhat relieved by the taking of the Confederate States Ironclad "Atlanta" in a few minutes' fight with the Monitors in Warsaw sound.

I returned to the "Dawn" with my laurels as a songster clustering around my brow, and the only trophy of my uncomfortable experience. Her snug clean cabin and its bathtub seemed a floating palace. Changes in the flagship, however, caused my being ordered to Port Royal, where I was transferred to, and became the executive officer of the old "Wabash," a promotion not sought or coveted, but accepted at the request of the Admiral and Captain Raymond Rodgers, and urged by Corbin, her commander.

Admiral Dahlgren assumed command on the 6th day of July of the South Atlantic Squadron, bringing his own staff and hastened to carry forward the preparations for a renewed attack upon Charleston, well under way by DuPont, but this time in co-operation with a largely increased army under General Gilmore. I was almost the only so-called "DuPont man" left on the “Wabash." The ship left Port Royal and anchored off Charleston bar. Her draft made her useless in the constant attacks upon Sumter and Wagner. Dahlgren shifted his flag to the "Dinsmore," and the "Wabash" shorn of her dignity, served as a hospital, store, ammunition reserve ship, and furnished relief crews to the monitors and vessels actively at work inside the bars. With her launches and boat guns, she also covered the flanks of the working parties, sappers and miners, digging trenches and zig-zag approaches to Wagner preparatory to the assault.

I was frequently left in command of the ship and more frequently passed the night in command of the launches, lying close to the beach of Morris island, where we could, of a still night, hear both our soldiers at their work, and the voices of the defenders of the fort. It was a trying, hard, but exciting service, and why we were not attacked, captured or driven off was always a wonder to me.

Later a small rebel gun boat under command of my dear old friend Phil Porcher, did attack these flanking launches, ran one of them down, capturing her crew, a number being killed or drowned. I am glad that our aquaintance was not renewed under such circumstances.

In April 1863, I received the following communication from the Navy Department:

"Navy Department
18 April 1863


 The President of the United States, by and with the advice and consent of the Senate having appointed you a Lieutenant Commander in the navy on the Active List from the 16th of July 1862. I have the pleasure to enclose herewith your commmission dated the 10th of March 1863.

I am, very respectfully
your obedient servant,

Gideon Willis
Secretary of the Navy"

This Commission signed by President Lincoln hangs on the wall of my den -- and is transmitted to my children and to their children as a precious relic of my service -- and the President's autograph -- as are my father's Commission as Brigadier & Major General of volunteer -- also signed by Lincoln -- all the officers of the "old navy" who like myself, had volunteered their services at the outbreak of the War, were at the same time restored to the regular service taking the same positions in line as though they had never left the Navy -- my uncle Joseph P. Sanford among them -- There had been much opposition to this measure on the part of friends in Congress of the line officers, who did not wish to be pushed down the list by these restrictions -- I refer to the message of the President transmitting to Congress the Secretary of the Navy's recommendation, to be found in my official Correspondence Book, for the reasons of our restoration --

I saw the assault delivered by the negro regiment under Colonel Shaw at close quarters, but it was hours before we knew the result of it. Changes were going on every day -- the bombardment of Wagner by ships and shore batteries was incessant, with many casualties. The ship received the wounded; her crew in gangs took turns on the monitors, whose regular crews became worn out with the strain and needed rest, and what with the work, and excitement of witnessing the operations of Navy and Army, and being unable to take a more active part, I was not sorry when on the 23rd of July, I was ordered to command the double-ender "Paul Jones," relieving Rhind, who relieved me in temporary command of the "Wabash." The 100-pounder rifle of the "Paul Jones" had burst with havoc a few days before, leaving her with her 11-inch Dahlgren her only effective gun for the daily bombardment.

Rhind said to me as I relieved him: "Barnes, she is a beast of a ship!" However, with her big gun, I took my designated place in line, and kept up a constant fire for several days, going out at nightfall to lie in the North channel. She would not answer her after helm, and we steered her from the other end, practically stern first. She had hard, severe usage and strains, leaked badly, so that as some vessel was needed to take home cripples and sick, I was filled up with them and ordererd to New York.

Fleet Captain George Rodgers, brother of Raymond, one of the best beloved officers of the Navy, wrote me a kind note on my leaving the squandron, which I value highly, and a few days later, while temporarily in command of his former Monitor "Catskill," was killed, almost severed in two, by a detached fragment of her pilot house cover, struck by a solid shot from Fort Wagner. Carpenter, her commander, a classmate and initimate friend of mine, never quite recovered from the shock and ghastly sight of poor Rodgers, his mangled corpse hanging down into the turret, and jammed there in the revolution of the turret, and later he described the circumstances to me, with dreadful details and evident horror, and a few days after he committed suicide. He came from Greenfield, a few miles north of Springfield, and we were acquainted as boys.

I was both glad and sorry to leave my comrades, at such a time. I was a well known and earnest admirer of Admiral DuPont, and resented, as far as I decently could, the treatment he had received. I was not very favorably impressed with Dahlgren's personality, and could but contrast his operations in concert with the army, with DuPont's single-handed and compulsory attack. Discussions and arguments were rife amongst all of us juniors at mess, and elsewhere, creating some personal enmities and unpleasantness. I never was very prudent in my expressions, and what may be mildly called a row between me and a pronounced critic of DuPont, I was told, reached the ears of Dahlgren. Insignificant  as was my work and duty, I think he was willing to let me serve the country elsewhere than in his command. Apart from the matter of earnest loyalty to DuPont, my admiration and affection for him, I must add that Dahlgren was a brave, conscientious and determined officer, and his work at Charleston -  although he didn't capture the city -- was ably and thoroughly done.

Soon after my arrival at New York with the "Paul Jones, " I was detached from the command, and with three weeks' leave of absence was ordered to report for duty on board the steam frigate "Niagara," fitting for sea at the Boston Navy Yard.

Although right in the midst of the disturbance -- between times as it were -- Sue and I made up our minds to take advantage of my leave of absence, and on the 23rd day of September, 1863, we joined partnership for life at Philadelphia.

As during the time we were together, the epistolary correspondence ceased, this "Egotistigraphy" may properly have some referrence to the happy days.

My father, then a Brigadier-General of Volunteers, came on to our wedding, with one or two members of his staff, also officers of his brigade, amongst  them Colonel Vincent, killed at Little Round Top at the battle of Gettysburg. My friend, Henry Rathbone, then a Captain in the army assisted. He it was, who was with President Lincoln in the theatre box when he was assassinated -- together with Clara Harris, his stepsister and later his wife, and who still later, in a moment of dementia, shot, stabbed and killed her at Hombourgh, and is now a prisoner there in the prison for the insane criminals. Mr. Samuel Randall and Sue's brother, R. Somers Hayes, were also of the "best friend" assistants. Rev. Mr. Morton tied the knot, and we went off to the train amidst the usual showers of rice and old shoes. Passing several days in New York City at the Brevoort House, I don't know what induced us to visit my birthplace, West Point, but we went there and ran into a crowd of my old Albany acquaintances, who of course made our honeymoon visit not exactly a seclusion. My cousin, Alexander Clarke, was Adjutant of the Corps of Cadets, and Will Rogers, a son of Sue's friend, Mrs. Rogers, was a plebe, and a very disgruntled plebe at that. We cleared out from West Point very soon, going to Albany, where we passed a few days as guests of my Aunt Virginia Ransom, and I proudly introduced my prize to my Albany friends. From Albany we went to Springfield, where we were welcomed by my good mother in the old house on Maple Street.

Now, during all this time I was under orders to report for duty on board the Steamer Frigate "Niagara," on the 21st day of September, and duly presented myself, and from that date until the 19th of November, was busily occupied as the Executive officer in fitting this beautiful but most worthless ship-of-war for sea, my wife living ashore in Boston and in Gloucester during the process.

The "Niagara" was constructed upon the plans of George Steers, a somewhat famous builder of clipper ships, and modeled upon clipper lines, almost identical with the steamer "Adriatic" of the Collins line of steamships. Great performances in speed were expected of her, but she was an utter failure as an efficient war vessel, although magnificent in appearance.

Intended to cruise in pursuit of the "Sumter," then ravaging the seas, she was armed with 10-inch Dahlgren guns in broadside, with two 100-pounder rifled parrot guns at bow and stern - the most formidable battery then afloat on a single ship. Heavily sparred as a full-rigged ship, requiring a crew of 750 men, she was splendid to look at, but a very bad ship in every respect for the proposed service. Under steam alone her speed in favorable weather was barely seven knots, but with propeller triced up, and favoring winds and all sail, she was fast, but she labored so heavily in a sea way, that her masts would be almost rolled out of her. The only voyage I made in her, from Boston to Gloucester, where we went to recruit seamen from the returning fishing fleet, we came very near capsizing, rolling boats under, almost dipping her yard arms into the sea, obliging every one to hold on for dear life, until she was brought up head to sea. Captain Craven thought her dangerous, and openly expressed his fear of her, and I shared his feelings and dislike. At Gloucester, the hardy fishermen - mostly 'blue noses' - whose industry was supported by the Government, as a school for seamen, by large bounties, turned up their blue noses at her, and no enlistments were made. They passed us daily, crowded in schooners, bound for their homes in Nova Scotia - Newfoundland, with unmistakable signs of derision.

Sue came to Gloucester, and we had rooms and board at the house of the Misses Whittemores, three old maid sisters, as thin and dry as the codfish of the town, but very kindly and attentive. I worked hard in getting the ship in order, Captain Craven leaving everything wholly to me, while he passed most of his days in fishing, letting me go ashore for the evenings. We both knew that the ship could never prosecute the voyage contemplated without material reduction of her battery and spars, while getting a full crew seemed impossible within any definite time. However, my wife and I had nothing to complain of and enjoyed our Gloucester life. She visited the ship; I was often ashore. My mother paid us a visit; we made trips to Boston, negotiated the sale of my Grandmother's old house in Roxbury, which upon her death, a year or more before, had been left in her will to my mother. While matters were thus in 'Statu quo', I was astonished one day to have placed in my hands by Captain Craven, orders from the Navy Department that upon the reporting of my relief, Lieutenant-Commander Henry Erben, Jr., I should proceed without delay to Hampton Roads, and report to Rear-Admiral S.P. Lee, for duty as Fleet Captain of the North Atlantic Squadron. Here was a pretty kettle of fish! as our Gloucester friends might exclaim. Captain Craven was good enough to say that he was sorry to part company, and I assured him that I had not applied for this special duty. In fact, I was glad to get out of the "Niagara," and had no particular fancy for the wandering, uncertain work laid out for her, in the search for such a Will o' the Wisp as the "Sumter," and not at all sure of her performances in case we should be lucky enough to come in contact with her.

I may as well finish up this episode, by the statement that after alterations in battery masts, yards and spars, she finally got to sea, did encounter the "Sumter" in the port of _________________  where Captain Craven, conscious of her inability to successfully fight her, refused a proffered combat, for which he was tried by General Court Martial, presided over by Admiral Farragut and sentenced.


I awaited for some days the arrival of Lieutenant-Commander Erben, who like myself was enjoying his brief honeymoon. He reported for duty, took with his bride the quarters occupied by us at the Misses Whittemores, and having turned over to him the "Niagara," we packed up our traps and left for Philadelphia. There my wife resumed her residence with her mother, and I left for Fortress Monroe to join the Flagship "Minnesota," then lying in the roads. My old friend and shipmate, Upshur, was the Commander, and amongst her officers, most of whom I knew, was Lieutenant-Commander Joseph P. Fhyffe, whom I had sailed with in the "San Jacinto," both of us then "Steerage Officers". On going on board to report, I discovered he was in charge of the deck, with much ceremony, four side boys, prolonged boatswains whistle, and salute from the marine guard on deck.

I was ushered into my new dignity as Fleet Captain, Fhyffe formally lifting his cap in the most approved style in answer to my salute to the flag and himself. I was slightly overcome by such unaccustomed honor, endeavored to make light of it - but no - Had I been Lord High Admiral of a Fleet, Fhyffe's official seriousness could not have been more excessively formal, and to me, oppressive, as coming from an old friend and mess mate, with whom I had been on most intimate terms. Bowing, bare-headed, he said: "You are welcome on board, Fleet Captain”, with emphasis on the title. Now, Fhyffe was really my senior in rank by several years, but owing to some of his pronounced peculiarities had suffered some setbacks in the promotions of the War period. Embarrassed by his formality, I proceeded aft to the cabin to report to the Admiral, when Fhyffe, the reception ceremony over, joined me, hooked his arm in mine, and whispered audibly in my ear:

"Johnny, won't you appoint my father one of your clerks!”

Upshur, by this time put in his appearance, welcomed me cordially and ushered me into the Admiral's presence and introduced us. I had never met or known Admiral Lee, and had been at a loss to understand why he had picked me out as his Chief-of-Staff - a young officer, but recently restored to the Navy, whose qualifications for so important a duty must have been unknown to him, unless someone had suggested me to him to fill the vacancy created by the resignation of the duties by my predecessor, Pierce Crosby. The Admiral received me very cordially, we talked over the situation, the scope of the duty which he hoped I would find agreeable, invited me to join his mess and take up my quarters in his cabin and make myself thoroughly at home there.

The mystery, if any there was, of my selection as the Admiral's Chief-of-Staff, was explained by him as resulting from my supposed legal attainments, acquired during my civil life, and supposed familiarity with business methods, not usually found in Naval officers. The Admiral explained that legal questions and Courts Martial were constantly arising in the administration of the business affairs of the large squadron, in the intercourse with foreign officers, as well as questions regarding prizes and their condemnation, while the organization of a proper business office for the conduct of the daily routine had become indispensable, and was then in great disorder and confusion. He was good enough to say that he had heard from Admiral DuPont and from Mr. Fox, that probably I would fill the bill better than a naval officer who had no other training than that of a seaman, had talked the matter over with my father, then Brigadier-General commanding the division of Norfolk, and with whom he had  very pleasant official relations, and had ascertained from him that such a position as Fleet Captain, was suited to my abilities and would doubtless be acceptable to me and with the approval of the Navy Department obtained beforehand.  He had applied to have me designated for this service, to which I was not at all entitled, either by the customs of the Navy, nor by my inferior rank in grade.  However, “customs of the service” were being more or less disregarded by this time, and there I was in a position which was usually regarded as only to be filled by an officer of the rank of "Post" Captain.

I took a survey of the conditions as I found them in the so called office of the squadron. Letters unanswered, requisitions for officers and men, stores, ammunition and supplies and official documents of every conceivable character, charges of misconduct, demands for courts martial, requests for temporary leaves of absence, reports of surveys upon ships, machinery and stores, all were piled up in confusion, on the desks and in the pigeon holes. There was no order or system established, and the task before me to bring order out of the chaos seemed insurmountable with the small force at my command.

The Admiral had, with the assistance of his Secretary, endeavored to keep up with the routine work since Captain Crosby had left him, was worried over the accumulation, was not well and strong, working far into the night, and so hampered with detail that the larger operations of his fleet were not so well attended to as they could have been, had he an efficient working staff.

Before 'taking my job' with the Admiral, I went to Norfolk in our tug boat, calling upon my father who was installed in a fine house, known as the 'Selden House', as his headquarters, over which floated the flag. He was well, very busy, glad to see me, said he expected my mother soon, and hoped my wife could come there and make a visit, and thus in the midst of the war-like preparations and scenes, we could have some of the pleasures of domestic life. This pleasing prospect was eventually realized and in his temporary home, with my mother, wife, sister Emilie, and others, I had passed many a delightful hour when my duty permitted my absence from the "Minnesota," but for several weeks the work was absorbing. New clerks were employed, amongst them a stenographer. Typewriting was not then employed in correspondence. Gradually the routine work was reduced to some sort of system, but still suffered for want of room and adequate clerical force, which kept both the Admiral and myself scribbling from morning till night. I am not going to spread the daily work in which I was engaged for more than a year upon these pages. My letters will give more of it than any one would care to read, and it is dull enough to be wearisome even to think about, and created in my mind a most intense desire to be freed from it, and once more tread the deck in the legitimate pursuit of a Naval officer in time of war. Still, it had great compensations. I was in daily touch with my family, met officially and socially men of prominence, Generals of armies, leaders of parties and oracles of Senates, who at one time and another came to Fortress Monroe on duty or pleasure or seeking information.

My father was relieved of the command of the Department of Norfolk by General Butler who, established at Fortress Monroe, ruled the Department with ruthless hand. I had finally succeeded in getting the "Malvern" transferred to us as the Flagship office, in place of the useless frigate "Minnesota," and her ample accommodations for clerks enabled us to organize the squadron work upon a satisfactory basis. In the "Malvern" we made frequent visists to the blockade off Cape Fear River, making new disposition of the fleet there, resulting in a much more efficient blockade, and the capture or destruction of numerous blockade runners, which carried on a risky trade between Bermuda, Nassau and Wilmington, furnishing the Confederacy with stores, munitions of war, medicines and articles which had become luxuries in the South, the dearth of which finally, as much as the force of arms, led to the final result. I might mention that one of the perquisites of my position as Fleet Captain - which went far to reconcile me to the duties - was the prize law, which gave to a Fleet Captain, as well as to the Commander of a Squadron, a share in all prizes taken by the ships of the Squadron. Under this law I became entitled to and ultimately received upward of $20,000, while Admiral Lee received over $100,000 - a pretty fair recompense in addition to our yearly pay, and made quite a Nabob of me. Of course we took a lively interest in the blockading business, in which we were the side partners, apart from the constant urging to make the blockade effective and the criticisms of the Navy Department if some lucky vessel, escaping the vigilance of our ships got safely to port, or escaped with their cargoes of cotton on return voyages. These steamers built in England for this special business were low in the water, without top hamper, painted lead color, swift and officered and manned by bold adventurous men, willing and ready to take all possible risks for large compensation for successful trips. Several firms in England engaged in the business, and if one out of three of their ships made a successful voyage the profits were immense. We had no vessels in the squadron that could begin to keep pace with them in a fair chase. Many were run ashore under the guns of the batteries at or near the entrances to Cape Fear River, and were there destroyed by the gun fire of our ships; some succeeded in landing their valuable cargoes on the beach protected by the shore batteries, and many, I am glad to say, were caught in the act with the goods upon them as they attempted to slide by of a dark night, and found themselves surrounded, when they would surrender with ill grace.

During my Fleet Captaincy, no less than 170 British built steamers, specially constructed for blockade running, were engaged in this business, between Bermuda, Nassau, N.P. and Wilmington; the names, minute descriptions, and particulars as to their outfits, being made known to us, through statements of men captured, consular despatches, deserters and refugees. From such sources I compiled a tabulated list, now in my possession, which if space permitted would be an interesting record. I doubt if a correct list has ever appeared in the various books treating on the subject, emanating from writers on either side of the question. Wilkinson, Soley, Hobert Pasha, Captain Roberts, Captain Maffitt, Captains Bullock, Scharff and others, all of whom deal with individual experiences and personal narrations, while the official records of the Union and Confederate Navies published by the Government, are teeming with the reports of officers engaged in the blockading service. From these sources a complete history of the Blockade of our Southern coast, which had so tremendous an effect upon the war operations has yet to be written. I can only here give what I personally knew about it.

While the blockade runners occasionally made Charleston, Savannah and Mobile their points of entry and departure, the Cape Fear River with its two entrances; one north, the other South of Cape Fear, the heavy forts and batteries commanding those entrances, the short and practicable bar channels and choice of entrances according to the prevailing winds, the proximity of the outfitting ports of Bermuda and Nassau, all combined to make Wilmington the most accessible and safest port of entry into the heart of the Confederacy.

Although our Squadron was lacking in suitable vessels, we had a great number of them of all sorts and descriptions, for the most part converted steamers, tugs and nondescripts - hardly better than moveable armed buoys - without speed, and many commanded and officered by volunteer officers, although the several divisions were commanded by regular officers of rank. Apart from the zealous and patriotic performance of their duty, every officer and man engaged in this service was naturally enough animated by the hope of prize money reward. "Soldiers for loot, sailors for prize only," was then as ever an exciting stimulant for rank and file in all armies and navies and in all wars. No doubt this hope kept eyes, ears and senses vigilant on watch and guard during dark and stormy nights while rolling and tossing off that dreary coast, peering into the mists and darkness, listening for the beats or throbs of engines, alert at gun or signal, wide awake and obedient. I think I was as patriotic as any, but I confess that when a good fat prize fell into our hands laden with cotton, I cast a look at the cotton market quotations, and made a few figures on my own account, as did the Admiral. Cotton, the real currency of the Confederacy, sold as high as $2.00 per pound. The Confederate Government seized or bought it with their worthless paper money, shipped it in blockade runners [bound for] England, and, selling the cotton for gold in England thus formed the financial base of their operations in Europe. Every blockade runner owned by private firms were compelled to take a certain percentage of their outward cargoes for the account of the Confederacy. The money value of the outbound cargoes greatly exceeded that of the inbound, which although composed of necessities to the Southern armies and people, had comparatively little value to the North. As every vessel in sight at the time of capture was entitled to share in the prize, the chases after those runners which succeeded in gaining the open sea were exciting. Coming out loaded to their guards, and with cotton piled upon their decks, it was often by heaving overboard their deckloads only that they could avail of their superior speed. Like the travellers we have read about, pursued by packs of wolves, who throwing over some portion of their freight to attract and delay the pack, the sea would be dotted with cotton bales, upon which, in smooth water, the slower pursuers would drop a sailor; he, sitting astride, would substantiate the claim of his ship in its prize value, while the swifter ships would continue the pursuit of the runner, almost invariably in vain. Compelled to use soft coal in their furnaces, the smoke often betrayed them, streaming out of their funnels, leaving a black, slender cloud over the horizon, while the vessel itself was out of sight.

Many of the runners were paddle wheel steamers, having feathering wheels of great diameter, which entering the water and leaving it, as they revolved perpendicularly, besides giving more direct effort of propulsion, were comparatively noiseless. Still, the beating of the paddles on a dark or misty night betrayed their proximity when they could not be seen, and shots would have to be aimed at the sound for a target as they dashed by at top speed within easy range, either untouched or but slightly wounded. It was like shooting swift birds on the wing, with many misses. The going out of, was easier than the coming into, port. The runner would of course choose his weather; dark, cloudy, foggy nights were awaited, the runner loaded, and resting under the protection of the forts and batteries, would bide his time, sometimes three or four going out in a flock. I have counted no less than nine of these long, low, swift steamers, lying cozily at anchor, near the bar at sunset, and after an all-night disturbance, guns firing, rockets streaming, and hot pursuits, with an occasional capture or beaching of an unlucky one, or futile pursuit in the open, the whole lot would be gone and on their successful voyage to Bermuda. They never hesitated to take risks that under ordinary circumstances would not be thought of or carefully avoided, cutting around points of the dreaded Frying Pan Shoals or over them, their light drafts and speed enabling them to pass in shallow waters forbidden to our more cumbersome and slower vessels. Once clear of our inner and outer line of blockade, dodging and turning like a skillful foot ball player, the odds were greatly in their favor of making a safe touchdown and scoring a run. Our rocket system, which our vessels were instructed to use to point out to the fleet the direction of their chase, they learned to imitate to our confusion, so that it became useless. There were many sea tragedies - men killed and wounded, ships wrecked, burned and destroyed, while upwards of forty beautiful steamers were captured by the blockading fleet off Cape Fear River, and twenty-seven run ashore and destroyed. The shores - both North and South of the river entrances - were lined with their wrecks. Smart fights frequently occurred from the efforts of our men to destroy or get afloat a runner which had been beached in the attempt to run the blockade. The records show many feats of daring, which have been untold and unsung. It is somewhat remarkable that during the war, maintaining a legally strict blockade all along the dangerous coast from Chesapeake Bay to Florida, summer and winter, in storms and all weathers, few if any of our fleets suffered loss of ships by shipwreck, although many of them would hardly pass inspection as perfectly seaworthy craft. In heavy blows the practice was, and the orders were, to hold on to the places assigned them, riding to long, single cables at anchor, steaming up to their anchors. So successful was this practice that during all the winter service not a vessel foundered or was lost through stress of weather. In our frequent visits to the blockade, we encountered many gales, and weather in the "Minnesota" or the "Malvern," the anxiety for the safety of the ships gave us sleepless nights, filled with apprehensions for the safety of some of the known weaker vessels that, at nightfall, were struggling for existence in a smother of seas. Our own discomfort, if not peril, was made light of, when the day breaking, we found them still on top of the sea, holding on for dear life. There has been some carping on the part of writers and newspaper men upon the subject of prize money in which Naval officers have been arraigned before the public as having mercenary objects connected with the performance of simple duty. But as the Government promptly takes one-half of the proceeds of prize sales, and allows the captors only one half of the conation it would seem that they are not overpaid for their vigilance, and that the Government is the principal gainer by it.

At all events, it is the law, and for one, I am thankful to have been one of the beneficiaries of it!

The prizes fully occupied me at times, as their papers - when they had any - their passengers, who were generally many, were subjected to my examinations and dispositions. The place for their adjudication was selected; prize officers and crews were ordered to take them North;several of her original crew were  retained on board as temporary prisoners of war and as witnesses; well-known Confederates, natives of the Southern States, were sent to prison camps. There were frequently diplomatic questions to be answered as to the treatment of neutrals: Englishmen who made complaints to the British Minister as to unnecessary hardships and ill treatment after capture, as well as to illegality of seizures, misappropriation of personal effects, and other complaints involving correspondence with the State and Navy Departments, affidavits and investigations, the details of which the Admiral turned over to me on the score of my supposed legal erudition, and which I made the most of, slight as it was.

I may say here, that our good Admiral's principal concern was his official correspondence which he elaborated and dreaded, lest he should be indiscreet and inaccurate as to facts or opinions upon given subjects, and have his letters brought up and criticized. They would be written and re-written, by him or by me, altered in phraseology and not in meaning, signed and sealed, and reopened and re-read, criticized and discussed, repunctuated, sometimes to a wearisome minute. However, that was what he wanted me for, rather than for my brilliant naval experience or ability, and I have no reason to complain of it.

A few words as to the system established for making the blockade effectual - a number of the larger and faster vessels cruised at sea upon the routes taken by the Blockade runners, going from and returning to Bermuda, which kept the sea as long as their coal lasted. The fleet was divided into two divisions, one to the North, the other to the South of the Frying Pan Shoals. During the daytime they lay more or less extended, but as near the shore as convenient, generally at anchor. At nightfall the smaller vessels would creep close to either channel bar at appointed stations, where, with lights extinguished or hidden, they kept their positions as nearly as possible during the entire night under steam. Around them and encircling them, also in assigned beats, the larger vessels moved about, guarding the approach from sea, and on the watch for signals from the inside line that announced the coming out of the cotton ladened runner, generally by gunfire and throwing up rockets in the direction of her course, when the chase would commence in the discretion of the commanders of the one side divisions, taking care that the blockade should not be so opened that when coming out or entering in numbers, while attention was drawn to one, others would slip in or out. The inside line never gave chase off their beats, but through their efforts many were captured, turned back or run ashore. They had much the harder work, and our successful blockade was more due to their vigilance and daring than to the outer line. The runners generally adopted, after experience with our method, the plan of falling in with the coast some miles to the North or South of the bars, and coasting along it, just clear of the surfer breakers, feeling their way with lead line, communicating with the shore with prearranged signals, the surf drowning the noise of the paddles, all of them steered by pilots familiar with the bars. When the flanks of the inside line was turned, and the range signals in line, they would dash across the bars and in a few minutes were safe under the guns of the shore batteries, skillfully placed for their protection. Wilkinson, an officer of the old Navy - and by the way, a former ship mate -  relates with much particularity, his adventures and many successful runs made by him. He was always successful and always followed this plan, both in entering the river and escaping from the blockaders on his outbound voyages. Captain Roberts, also a very successful blockade runner did the same. There were many failures, but it was the most perplexing course to us.

The Navy Department never failed to express censure whenever a successful run was reported, and finally we took up our station at Beaufort by its orders, and gave our entire attention to the blockade.

The naval co-operation, with the army movement up the James River, resulting in the occupation of City Point and the siege of Petersburg by General Butler, had absorbed our attention for several months. Indeed, all through the summer of 1864, our squadron or the fighting portion of it, held the James River from Trent's reach to Newport News; at the former place, at the urgent demand of Butler, obstructions were placed to hinder or prevent possible raids of the Confederate fleet, which were assembled at, or just above, Chaffen's bluffs below Richmond, consisting of several powerful ironclads and improvised gun boats, upon the vast assemblage of transports, lying above and below City Point. Floating Torpedo devices of various and ingenious construction, were from time to time sent down upon us in the current. The river above Trent's reach was known to have been strewn with enormous torpedoes with electrical connections. One of these containing 2000 pounds of powder was successfully exploded under the "Commodore Jones," an old converted ferry boat on the advance to Bermuda Hundreds. She was literally annihilated with the loss of nearly everyone on board of her. A full description of this disaster will be found in my work, "Submarine Warfare," as well as in my letters. I happened to be a close eye witness to it, passing through the fleet in a boat, giving precautionary orders to the vessels in the advance, engaged in sweeping the channel with Grapnels and chains, and was within a hundred yards of the fated victim to this comparatively new system of harbor and river defense, and was for a moment struck dumb with the horror of it - as I saw her lifted almost bodily, and fall a crumbling mass into the muddy stream, while through and above her towered a column of seething foam.

The Perpetrators of this act - by many then considered barbarous, and contrary to the usages of civilized war - were captured, one killed as he ran from the pit in which he and his comrades with the electrical batteries were concealed.

My friend, Fhyffe, then in command of the "Commodore Morris," took charge of the prisoners, and placing them in an exposed position, on the forward deck of his vessel, steamed up alongside the "Malvern," saying as he went by us to take the lead of the searching vessels: "Johnny, they'll talk now." Confound the dear old fellow, he never would call me other than "Johnny," utterly regardless of my dignified rank. His present command was in a way due to my regard for him, and perhaps a desire to be free from this affectionate appellation. He had addressed a formal application for examination for promotion, which in regular course of official correspondence, passed through me to the Admiral, and through the Admiral to the Navy Department, in which he had stated that if "through past offenses, and present immoral conduct, he should be judged unworthy of a command, he might have time to go home and hire out for the fall ploughing." His 'past offenses' were really slight, being mainly improper correspondence with the Department, in which he suggested with many injurious comical criticisms of the ship he then commanded on Western waters, that her name be changed from "Clara Dobson" to "Preposterous and Outrageous," one name on each paddle box, so that the enemy on either side of the river would see a different name, and the government get credit for two gun boats instead of one. He also remarked that if a company of soldiers he was transporting deserted on board of the "Clara Dobson" it might take a week to find them! He also painted her like a brick house. All this was considered facetious and so highly improper that Fhyffe was passed over in the promotions as an eccentric.

I induced the Admiral to laugh at Joe's letter, got him to address another in more official style, and, the vacancy occurring, the Admiral consented to giving him the "Commodore Morris". He was really a bold, determined officer, did fine service all through the war, married a minister's daughter, as he told me"Just to shock ‘em" and died a Rear-Admiral, full of honor, in command of the Charlestown Navy Yard.

With this digression I go ahead with this desultory narrative:

On the third of April, 1864, General Grant, Mrs. Grant and their family visited Fort Monroe. The General was then in supreme command of the Eastern armies and proposed to take a personally conducted tour to Richmond. Of course the Admiral, with his Chief-of-Staff made his official visit to him, when I made my first acquaintance with the famous General.

Although he was rather slovenly dressed, and had little of the air of a military chieftain, I was greatly impressed by his quiet reticent manner, his few, but practical, questions and observations regarding the general situation in our department, from which we inferred that serious work was contemplated from our station up the James river, and greatly rejoiced at it. Mrs. Grant, a plain, but very sensible little woman, had known several of my mother's sisters at Fort Leavenworth in old army times, and we became quite intimate as a result of her inquiries about them.

On the night of the ninth of April occurred the attack upon the "Minnesota," lying off Newport News, surrounded by transports, by a torpedo boat commanded by Hunter Davidson, an officer of the old Navy, well known to all of us. That the ship was not sent to the bottom was owing to the torpedo being exploded not closely in contact with the ship's side. Considerable internal damage resulted, smashing of beams, ruin of ships' stores, disabling of guns, etc. The night was dark, the tug lying astern of us inactive, and Davidson escaped unharmed. Later I had a good view of this boat, made a sketch of her which was forwarded to the Department, being the first reliable information we had of this sort of a war weapon. This sketch with description of her is in the Naval Records. I am rather proud of this specimen of my skill as an artist. All along I had a great idea of the future of Submarine Warfare - now that ships were being made invulnerable to shot and shell fire -  which developed into my book, it being the first treatise on the subject published, since Fulton's Torpedo War in 1810. It was republished in France, England, Germany and Spain, and later on used as a text book at Annapolis and has been extensively quoted from.

About this time there came to us the French frigate "Tisiphone," commanded by Captain de Marivault, who, with commendable faith in his dictionary, requested, on account of "an occasional discomposure of his machine," to come within our lines for repairs. He really came to get some tobacco, claimed by the French government and lying in warehouses at Richmond.

The presence of the ironclad "Albermarle" in the sounds was giving us great concern. We had no vessels fit to meet her, notwithstanding repeated warnings of the rebel activities in the construction of various ships of the Merrimac type. The Department, wedded to the "Monitor" form, caused to be built a lot of worthless light drafts, under the superintendence of Stimers, which wouldn't float. The regular Monitors were of too great draft to maneuver in the Sounds, so the wooden craft were at the mercy of the really insignificant "Albermarle". General Hoke laid siege to Plymouth, and with the co-operation of the "Albermarle," re-took that town, driving our wretched little fleet out of the river. The loss of the town was of no great importance, but the Navy lost one of the most gallant officers, Flusser, who fell dead on the deck of the "Miami," the lanyard of a gun in hand. He was killed by the rebound of a shell fragment from the ironclad sides of his antagonist. I knew Flusser quite intimately, and a fine fellow he was, a Southerner by birth, but as loyal and true as the best. Commodore Milancton Smith was ordered to take his place, a spunky old gentleman, of whom Fox wrote us that he would "take care of that little ram." He also had a fight with her, in which my friend Roe, in command of the "Sassycuss," distinguished himself and got five numbers advance for ramming the ram ineffectually, and to his great damage.

The "Sassycuss" was a double ender, with a rudder at each end, about as formidable as a Ram as a wheelbarrow. The "Miami" was of the same class, but unlike the "Sassycuss" which had two bows, the "Miami" had two sterns. These "Double enders," of which class a large number were built, did good service in river work, but were very vulnerable, their boilers and machinery being exposed. The 'Paul Jones' was one of them, and in command of her I came to the conclusion that a more unwieldly, awkward vessel could hardly be contrived for sea service. We had a number of them in our squadron. In the James river they performed good service, but could not be exposed to battery fire without danger of destruction by a single lucky shot. I also later commanded the "Lenapee" during the operations in Cape Fear River, but was lucky enough to escape a shot through her vital parts, although struck by several of heavy calibre. In service, on rivers and inland waters, they were efficient, carried heavy batteries, had commodious quarters for officers and crews, steered from either end like a ferry boat.


At Trent's reach that summer, we had many unimportant actions, with the batteries at Howlett's, situated at the head of the reach and several encounters with flying batteries of the enemy, placed between the reach and City Point, also with bands of sharp shooters, which would place themselves during the night, and open fire upon the open decks of transports and gunboats passing in the mornings, and then scatter into the woods upon the high bluffs. We lost one or two small gun boats or armed tugs from field artillery attack, and a number of men fell under the fire of the sharp shooters.

As these are personal recollections, I relate one of these incidents in which I figured and which illustrates the sort of warfare attending river work. I had given orders for the "Malvern" to go to City Point early the next morning. Leaving the fleet at Trent's reach at six o'clock, we turned, and passing down the river close to the left bank, swept slowly under the bluff at Carl's Neck. I was up and on deck, seated in a camp chair, close to the chart room aft. The "Malvern's" deck was 'flush' - without bulwarks, the only projections above her deck being the huge paddle boxes, the bridge and pilot house and the small chart room, in which were piled on end, boxes of charts, used for distribution to the vessels on the blockade. Seated, and for the moment occupied with my toilet, preparatory for breakfast, as we swung around the bluff, I happened to cast my eyes to the edge of the overhanging bluff, and looked into the muzzles of what seemed a hundred rifles, pointed down upon our deck not thirty yards away. I could see the eyes of the men, their caps at different angles on their heads, the hitching of their shoulders as they adjusted their aims.

I didn't stop to expostulate, or ask for quarter, or hold up my hands in token of surrender, to this highway men's method, but flinging myself flat on my stomach shouting "Rifle men!" a perfect hail storm of bullets flew over and by me, cutting the deck, the chart room and making splinters fly in all directions. I crawled without unnecessary delay into the chart room, seeking refuge behind the chart boxes. It was the closest call I ever had during the war and the only time that I ever looked into the eyes of the enemy, or was under rifle fire at close range. I do not much mind artillery fire; one can dodge a shot or shell, but bullets are "undodgeable," and as deadly as an Eleven-inch shell, if they hit you in the right place. Fortunately our pilot house was protected by heavy sheet iron plates, so that the pilot at the wheel kept the "Malvern" in the channel. When we reached a proper distance, the crew, then at breakfast, rushed to the guns - brass 24-powder Howitzers, all loaded - and we opened upon the Rebs, who after a few volleys, scattered in all directions, with our shells bursting over their heads as they ran. I think we hurt a few of them. Our crew escaped with only two or three men forward being wounded. Had the crew, then below at breakfast, been engaged in their usual occupations on deck, no doubt we would have lost many of them.

At Trent's reach we established a crow's nest, perched amongst the upper branches of a tall pine tree on the right bank of the river just within the right flank of Butler's army resting on the river. From this observatory we could look over Dutch Gap, and observe the movements of the rebel fleet, at Chaffen's bluff. Here we kept a quarter master with a telescope. One day he reported that the enemies' ships were moving, and being at the time on board the "Agawam," Captain Rhend, Lieutenant-Commander George Dewey, the executive officer, I proposed to Dewey that we should ascend to the Crows Nest and have a look at them. We climbed the ladder and were soon in plain sight of the enemies' fleet, and with the aid of our glasses could readily distinguish every movement on board of them.

It was apparent that on one of the foremost vessels they had made up their minds to take a shot at us. We witnessed the loading and training of the forward pivot gun in our direction, recognizing the officer commanding the gun, by his peculiar limp and appearance to be an old Naval friend, Oscar Johnson. He squinted along the gun sights, lockstring in hand, threw himself backwards, oldtime style, a cloud of smoke issued from the rifled Brooks 100-pounder; the roar followed and with it went hurtling by us, not many feet away, the huge projectile, crashing through the trees and bursting just beyond us, sending a storm of fragments in all directions. Dewey and I both remarked that it was a pretty good shot. The gun was rapidly reloaded, again fired with the same precision, and while they were reloading, both of us concluded that we had seen enough of the rebel fleet, that while we didn't mind the chances at our five feet and some inches, as we were virtually a target 60 or 80 feet high, it was hardly a fair war risk. We had a few words as to the order of our retreat, but claiming superior rank, I insisted upon following Dewey; a third, still closer, shot, stopped arguments and accelerated our descent, which was accomplished amidst the laughter of our people on the Monitors below which were snugly ensconced under the opposite bluffs. In a letter from Dewey, after his victory at Manila, he recalls the incident, with the remark that no shot during that engagement came so near to him.

The Howletts house battery, was thrown up mostly at night. It commanded Trent's reach so effectually that wooden craft could not safely lie there, but with the Monitors we were frequently engaged with it. Once after a protracted engagement, they hung out a white flag, boats were sent up, the crews landed, some of the guns spiked, and a few prisoners brought off. On their return the boats were bushwhacked, several men killed and wounded, amongst them some of the prisoners. Most of the men escaped by jumping overboard, and clinging to the sides of the boats floated with the current out of range, while our ships opened upon the bush whackers and drove them out of the woods. As usual the prisoners were turned over to me for examination. One of them a lank, raw-boned specimen of a North Carolina company, when asked why they had surrendered, gave his reason that, "he didn't mind 'ornery' shots, but when we fired a whole blacksmith's shop at them, he thought as did his comrades, that it was about time to quit fightin'." The placing of our obstructions in the river was followed by similar action by the rebels, so that both fleets were practically put out of commission; we couldn't reach them and they couldn't reach us. Butler, to whose superior Generalship and military genius [!]  it was owing that Petersburg was not seized a day or two after the landing of his army at City Point - when it was practically defenseless - occupied his army with spades and shovels, and in various little skirmishes, and absurd trivial expeditions, repelling false attacks by night, with useless expenditures of ammunition, all of which were magnified into desperate combats by the hordes of newspaper correspondents which infested his camp and were his guests. Everything settled down to monotonous routine. The enemy increased their strength, new lines of fortifications grew up on both sides - gradually coming nearer to each other - both on the defensive. I visited Butler in his camp several times - on duty and from curiosity. My previous acquaintance with him, when lying in the "Minnesota" off Fortress Monroe, had impressed me most unfavorably - as a smart unscrupulous lawyer, in disguise as a Military Chieftain. He was surrounded by detectives, spies and newspaper men, always suspicious, looking for traitors; arresting people with or without cause, imputing failures of his ill-organized and badly conducted raids, to information given by traitors within our lines. His bombastic style, pettifogging ways and extreme care of his own private person, made of him a most repulsive character as a Military leader or hero to all regular officers of either army or Navy - by whom he was most thoroughly detested, a feeling he heartily reciprocated, taking little pains to disguise his antipathy towards "West Pointers" or regular Naval officers; the latter he declared in one letter to Admiral Lee, to be "as leaky as their own vessels."

In this communication he charged Commander Upshur, the Commander of the flagship "Minnesota," with having frustrated his movements on Richmond by betraying his plans to rebels in Norfolk, basing his charge upon information derived from his detectives.

A Court of Inquiry was demanded by Upshur, of which I was appointed Judge Advocate; a long trial ensued. Butler refused or ignored a summons to appear before the Court, sent only one witness, a notorious woman employed by him as a detective, who passed her time in various boarding houses in Norfolk, reporting to Butler conversations with the boarders. Upon her statements, wholly untrue, of a conversation overheard by her, between a Mrs. Watson, a boarding-housekeeper and Mrs. Nottinghame, Commander Upshur's mother, Butler based his charges. He had Mrs. Watson arrested and confined for a week in a deserted bath shanty, on bread and water, with the purpose of compelling her to confess that Upshur's mother had stated that her son had told her that he, Butler contemplated a movement on Richmond. He sent a long, written argument to the Court, expressing his belief in the statements of his woman detective who was shown to be the mistress of another of her trade by her own testimony, and whose actions and bearing sufficiently attested to her utter unworthiness.

Upshur, justly indignant at the outrageous attack, pleaded his own cause. The proceedings of the Court and its findings completely exonerating him were sent to Butler, but he neither acknowledged their receipt nor offered any excuse for his conduct.

Later, upon some official occasion, he came on board the "Minnesota" in full rig as a Major-General, advanced to Upshur with outstretched hand as to a valued friend, when Upshur had the satisfaction of turning his back upon him, refusing to salute him, a little circumstance however, which apparently did not in the least disturb him.

While the official communications between Butler, commanding the Department of Virginia and North Carolina, and my father, commanding the division of Norfolk was pleasant enough, it was disturbed by a trifling incident, of which I was witness. Butler wished to inspect or review the troops in Norfolk. They were assembled and made a fine showing. My father provided me with a horse, and after a little entertainment, the respective staffs, including myself as visitor, mounted our steeds, and awaited the coming of Butler and my father - their horses being held by orderlies. My father mounted his and Butler attempted to bestride his big chestnut pacer which, quiet as a lamb, easy in gait as a rocking horse, stood before him. Butler advanced boldly to the starboard side of the animal, put his left foot in the stirrup, seizing his mane with his right hand, he hitched a little confusedly, and had he mounted it would have been with his face towards the beast's tail. The orderly bent over the assist, there was an awkward pause, when my father quietly remarked: "The other foot, or the other side, General!" There was an audible grin. Butler went to the other side, was hoisted into the saddle all right, but he never forgot this display of his horsemanship, and the review passed off in silence. Butler was a most awkward, ungainly specimen of an equestrian, and his feats of horsemanship would disgrace a sailor.


In the winter of 1863, no one could pass to Baltimore on the Bay line of steamers without formal pass from Butler's headquarters at Fort Monroe; even Admiral Lee was compelled to apply for one. Having occasion to visit Washington on duty, I applied in person to General Butler, explaining my purpose perfunctorily and was peremptorily refused in loud coarse tone and language. I backed out of his presence saying: "All right, General, I will get my order from Washington." He sung out as I was at the door: "Come back here, sir, I'll give you the pass, on the ground that - that I'll never do it again."

It seems to me I could fill a book with this gentleman's grotesqueness, which were so constantly the subject of comment, and in these random reminiscences I may again refer to this hero of the Civil War - but sufficient for the day is the evil thereof.

Our army under Butler was successfully placed at City Point and Bermuda Hundreds in May 1864. Our fighting fleet covering the right flank of Butler's army lay all that Summer at Trent's reach as has been described. The rebels completed their ironclads unmolested at Richmond, while both sides barricaded the river, rendering active operations on either side impracticable. Grant, meantime was pushing forward into the Wilderness and preparing for the campaign which should result in the transfer of the army of the Potomac to the South bank of the James.

During the interval, besides the little incidents of my personal experience already related, my time was occupied in official correspondence with the Department, with General Butler, with the concerns of the Blockading fleet, the detail of officers, the coal, ammunition and general supplies. To meet the daily requirements of ninety odd ships, scattered from Trent's reach to the entrances of Cape Fear River, including the Sounds of North Carolina, was no small job, when everything for their maintenance from a pump tack to a hundred-pounder gun had to pass through our office involving no end of red tape. Courts martial - summary and general - for all sorts of misdemeanors - were constantly being demanded; questions regarding prizes and condemnations, were annoying and persistent.

Admiral Lee, at my suggestion, suggested the office of a Judge Advocate General for the Navy - with an office at Washington, corresponding to a similar office in the War Department, and under whom an officer should be detailed for each squadron. He interested himself in having me selected for the post of Judge Advocate General, the Navy Department, apparently approving the idea, summoned me to Washington, where I prepared the rough draft of the plan, and of a bill to place before Congress, creating the office and its emoluments of rank and pay. I had an interview with Mr. Fox, submitted my papers but nothing came of it as events of greater importance were crowding upon us.

In June Grant was fighting his way through the Wilderness. The sound of his guns at the battle of Cold Harbor was borne to us on favoring winds, creating great anxiety as to the result. We had reports of the terrible engagements fought by the army of the Potomac and the immense losses sustained, and we knew that he expected to cross the James in our vicinity, and lay siege to Petersburg and get behind Lee's army and take Richmond from the rear. On the 12th and 14th of June, 1864, the advanced corps reached the river and crossed on Pontoon and other bridges at Charles City. General Grant himself came by boat from below, and soon the army of the Potomac was mainly encamped around Petersburg and rested, burrowing in the ground, digging tunnels and mines, making and repelling assaults, each day getting nearer and closer together; the Confederacy daily growing weaker, the Union stronger, until the end of the conflict seemed nearer, even to the least hopeful.

The heat and close confinement during the months of June and July, cooped up in the narrow, malarious swamps of the river, told upon the health of officers and men, and upon the nerves of the Admiral. Our forced inaction, save in the many trivial engagements, was depressing. In many letters, the Admiral had urged upon the Government authorities the feasibility and urgency of joint operations of Army and Navy upon the forts at the entrances to Cape Fear River.

We had, through spies, refugees, and reconnaissances, obtained full and accurate knowledge of these defenses, but General Hallock had passed an unfavorable opinion upon our plans so far as army co-operation was concerned, and up to the time when General Grant became Commander-in-Chief nothing was done, and the more or less effectual blockading service, with inadequate means and half worn out, improvised vessels, went on unsatisfactorily. The status quo, around Petersburg remained unbroken; the Admiral and I made visits to the various headquarters of the different divisions - one to General Burnside, where I met Henry Rathbone and Will Harris, both on Burnside's staff.

The General's headquarters tent was pitched in a grove within rifle shot of the rebel works, the trees bearing many marks of bullets. The General received me very hospitably, seated on the ground which was covered with bear skins. He made us seat ourselves also, saying it was safer not to stand erect or use stools. Picket firing was constant, and the General's precaution was justified, as during the half-hour or so that we were exchanging the compliments of the day - the Fourth of July - several of these little missiles went singing through the canvass. I was amused to see General Burnside roll over to his grog preserve, a small box containing flasks and glasses, and producing the where-withal, we all drank a small snifter lying on the skins, in honor of the day. General Ayres who commanded the light batteries of the division, came in on all fours, and we had a jolly time, in the positions of the ancient Romans at a banquet.

Mr. Lincoln paid Butler a visit, and we were invited to meet him at Headquarters.

Butler had received a Gatling or some other rapid firing gun, with which he was enamored. He had it brought out to show the President how it would saw the top off of a board fence, trained it himself and commenced turning the crank by which it was operated. I don't know whether it was the obliquity of the General's natural vision, or that Butler was an all-around 'bad shot', but the bullets fell amidst a lot of soldiers bathing in the river, causing them to scamper wildly up to the bank. I do not affirm that any of them were killed or maimed, but they had a close call, and the spectators all agreed that if Butler was the operator of that death-dealing machine, the safest place would be upon his target. In all these land excursions I rode upon some beast provided by the army quartermaster, and became, in my own opinion at least, a skilled horseman, in sticking on, if not otherwise a graceful cavalier; being chucked only once by a raw-boned brute that no one would give five dollars for; it was amusing to others, if not to me. "A sailor on horseback" has worked itself into a proverb, as a model of insecurity.

It was apparent at about the end of July that some larger movements were in contemplation by General Grant, which were to give more serious work for our squadron, and under another command.

Admiral Lee was quite worn out, was nervous, slept badly and was a dyspeptic. He was an Acting Rear-Admiral only, and had been in command of the squadron since August, 1862, and had reaped large remuneration in prize money. Some envious people attributed his long command under an Acting appointment, to the influence of his brother-in-law, Mr. _____Blair, a member of the Cabinet and an influential politician. It was pretty certain that he would soon be relieved by Foote, Farragut or Porter; they were fully entitled to the emoluments of the position, while their reputation as fighting Admirals was very great. Lee had, at the commencement of the War, brought his vessel "Vandalia" home without orders, went at once on blockade off Charleston; from her he commanded the "Oneida" in all Farragut's battles in the Mississippi with honor to himself and loss to the enemy. His appointment as Acting Rear-Admiral in command of the North Atlantic Blockading squadron, may have been due to the influence of Mr. Blair, but he had fairly earned the distinction. It was not his fault that co-operation of the army to capture Wilmington had been repeatedly refused him and he had, by his conduct of the Blockade, fairly enough won his spurs, and should have been promoted to Rear-Admiral before the time of which I am writing. I do not know of any printed sketch of his life, but I feel that my close intimacy with him - on duty and socially - as his only mess mate when Chief-of-Staff, entitles me to speak of him with some authority.

Admiral Lee - and I give him his nominal title - was a Virginian, bred and born; of that branch of the Lee family known as the White Lees - in contradistinction with the Dark Lees, blondes and brunettes. Of medium height, spare in frame, handsome in feature. His manner was like all of his tribe - distinguished, rather formal, always correct and always a gentleman. I do not think he was the material of which great naval heroes were made. He was too modest and retiring, careful and conservative in his views of duties, never expressing himself, or giving his opinions impulsively or emphatically, but generally with reservation, taking time for reflection. His mature judgments were sound, while he never posed, or sought notoriety through reporters, as did many. He was nervously sensitive to criticism or censure. His work was performed with extreme conscientiousness, and he gave himself up to it unremittingly, working far into the night, taking little exercise and without care for his none too strong constitution. He was intensely - so far as he could be intense - loyal, true and earnestly desirous for opportunities for distinction in the greater operations of war. His personal courage was undoubted. In the few occasions when he might be considered as 'under fire,' he was as calm, quiet and collected as a man should be. Take him all in all, he was a wise, careful and supremely honest servant of the cause. I think I was useful to him in many ways, and I know I had his confidence, as he had my respect and esteem; although I was accustomed to growl at his meticulous and painful elaboration of letters, despatches, and orders, which I submitted to him (and which I would write in a few minutes) and he would take an hour to weigh words, and correct phraseology without changing their intent, and then come back to the original, saying: "Well, Barnes, let it go as you put it."

He was very amiable. I never knew him to lose his temper, even when there was plenty of occasion for it. He thoroughly disliked General Butler, but his denouncement of his manners and ways was always courteously expressed, and he contented himself by avoiding contact with him as he would any disagreeable thing. Butler was rude to him often, in his letters and personal relations, so that I was often the intermediary in his correspondence with Butler, he declining to answer Butler's often hastily scribbled, short and unofficial notes, that frequently contained sharp and uncalled-for criticisms of some of the actions of our ships.

Notwithstanding my eagerness, too great impulsiveness and impatience, I grew to be very fond of Admiral Lee, and believe now as I did then, that had he been entrusted with the operations against Wilmington and Richmond, which later fell to Admiral Porter, supported by the army, he would have conducted them as successfully, and made as good a record as any of the great Naval Commanders of the War.

On or about the 26th day of July, 1864, the Navy Department, criticizing the effectiveness of the Wilmington Blockade, and attributing it in some measure to the continued absence of the Admiral with the James river fleet, directed him to turn that division over to Commodore _______ Smith, and to take personal charge of the Blockade with headquarters at Beaufert, North Carolina. We arrived there in the "Malvern," inspecting en route the fleet of New Inlet and the Western bar, on the 31st of July. The North Atlantic Blockade Squadron, by a careful report drawn up by me, then consisted of eighteen vessels off New Inlet, 51 off the Western bar, 24 in the Sounds, 51 in the James river; in all 110  [144] vessels of all descriptions from Monitor to tug boat. To keep these vessels supplied with coal, provisions and ammunition, to make repairs demanded, was no small undertaking, so that our staff equipment on the "Malvern" was somewhat inadequate, and the vessel herself so bad a sea boat that office work at anchor in the heavy seas, off the Cape Fear River bars, was anything but pleasant. Her high bulwarks also made her conspicuous, while her slow speed made her useless in a chase.

We contented ourselves, therefore, with occasional trips to the bars,  making our headquarters at Beaufert, North Carolina, a wretched collection of houses which we rarely visited, but the Admiral and I would land on the beach, and take a stroll for exercise, avoiding the town. During August the blockading vessels became slower, needing extensive repairs, while the blockade runners increased in numbers, in speed and general efficiency for the work for which they were speedily constructed. The facilities afforded them were greater than ever before. They were low in the water, had great speed, were painted a dull lead color, so that their wakes were only to be seen in dark nights. Lights were so placed at each inlet in range, signals were established with the shore, and each blockade runner carried a signal officer. Many of them were commanded by officers of the British Navy, and the business was brought to a high state of systematic effort. It was plain to us that the only remedy would be the capture of the forts and occupation of the inland waters, if blockade running was to be effectually stopped. We could not renew our fleet, while the shipyards of England were turning out splendid craft by scores, against which it was impracticable to make a perfect, but only a legal blockade.

The rebel ram "Albermarle" was still giving us concern in the Roanoke river, where she had control of adjacent waters, but was disinclined to make an attack upon our fleet assembled there. We were informed of the terrific explosion of a rebel torpedo at City Point, killing forty persons, and doing a vast amount of damage to stores, vessels and buildings.

From the reports made to Admiral Lee, this disaster was brought about by a clockwork torpedo placed near an ordnance barge by a rebel spy employed as a laborer on the wharf. We were also informed of the commencement, by General Butler, of his famous Dutch Gap canal, upon which he put some 1500 men at work on the 10th of August, promising to finish it in three weeks. An army court martial three months after, sentenced a culprit to "work for life" on Butler's canal, and thereby incurred the General's severe censure, as a reflection upon him and his scheme. I believe now the main course of the James runs through this ditch.

Lieutenant-General Grant, during August, made his headquarters at City Point, generally directing operations on the James, although Butler was the divisional Commander, but it was rumored that Grant would be pleased to get rid of him. About the 1st of September Commodore Rowan was ordered to the command of the fleet in the Sounds, which thus made a separate and distinct command. This change and other indications, pointed to a conclusion which had been uppermost in our minds for the last month, that the Department intended to supplant  Admiral Lee by one of the prominently successful Commanders in the Gulf or Western waters, who had in the course of their services been more or less associated with General Grant, who now was the real Commander-in-Chief of the army.

We were confidentially advised on or about the _____ of September, that it had been determined to place Admiral Farragut in command of the Squadron. A series of specific questions were propounded by the Department as to the channels, approaches, forts, and defenses of Cape Fear River, looking to operations to effectually close it to blockade runners. These interrogations, sent to us at Beaufert by special steamer, confirmed the private information that a combined army and naval attack was seriously contemplated. Admiral Lee, on the 6th of September, again urged the necessity of the attempt, and asked that he be allowed to confer personally with General Grant upon the subject, and at the same time we prepared long and very minute replies to the specific questions above referred to. I do not want to claim any undue credit for this document, but the long hours by day and night, given by both the Admiral and myself to its composition, corrections, alterations, the searches through our papers for reports, as well as the expressions of plans practicable, impracticable, necessary or important, the landing places, the forms, strength and locations of the forts and batteries, the value of the monitors and larger frigates, in an attack from seaward, the best time of the year for attack and landing of troops; these and a multitude of other subjects were treated of at great length. I can only say that I was used up and weary when the document was finally finished and despatched to Washington.

It was not, however, until the date of the 17th of September, that the previous rumors were officially confirmed, by the order of the Navy Department, by which Admiral Farragut, then in command of the West Gulf Squadron, was ordered to relieve Admiral Lee, who was at the same time directed to take command of Farragut's fleet in the Gulf. Although this had been a foregone conclusion, and was not a surprise, Admiral Lee felt it keenly, but gentleman always, met the blow quietly, and with only expressions of regret that he could not have led the naval attack, and been a factor in the accomplishment of the work that he had so often urged upon the Government.

We were directed to continue at Beaufert until the arrival of Admiral Farragut, supposed to be on his way North in obedience to orders given him some time before, the rumor of which had confidentially reached us. Meantime, the Department, in conference with Grant to whom our answers to the "Specific questions" had been transmitted, and who had promised to send to Cape Fear River a suitable force to co-operate with the Navy, assembled every vessel within reach, including a large part of Admiral Dahlgren's fleet at Port Royal.

Admiral Farragut, however, declined to take the North Atlantic Blockade squadron, although informed that he had been selected to lead the Naval attack on the defense at Cape Fear River, alleging that his health was giving way, and that he must have rest for several months before thinking of conducting further operations.

At once, Admiral David Porter was selected to Admiral Lee's relief, Farragut being ordered North and put on waiting orders.

On October first the formal orders were received to repair to Hampton Roads and there turn over the Squadron and all our official papers to Porter. Lee had requested to be allowed to take the "Malvern" to Washington with his personal effects, but this was denied him. On the 12th of October, 1864, at Hampton Roads, Porter came on board; Lee's flag was hauled down and saluted, Admiral Porter's was hoisted, and this ended my duties as Fleet Captain, and I must say that I was heartily glad that they were finished and done for. As Admiral Porter had brought with him from the Western waters, his own staff as well as a number of officers who had served so long and faithfully under him, there was no possibility of his wanting a continuance of my services. Kidder Breeze, one of the finest and best equipped men in the service, took my place as Fleet Captain. It was an honor to be relieved by such a man. Porter, whom I had incidentally met before when he was on his way to join Farragut in the attack on New Orleans remembered me kindly and cordially, recalling the time I had with that "little fellow, Kennedy" at Portsmouth, with the facetiousness that was inseparable from his familiar conversation. He asked me if I had any plans, what he could do for me at the Department, expressed a wish for me to continue in his new command, and was otherwise pleasant.

Now, one of the last blockade runners captured off Wilmington, the "Bat," had excited my admiration, for at the time of the capture, Admiral Lee had urged her transformation to a gun boat, to be employed on the blockade, as had been done with a number of prizes found suitable for the purpose. Knowing of the impending changes, I had made an application to command her through my friend Senator Harris who had seen Mr. Fox, who stated in reply, in a note now in my possession, that "The Department appreciated the value of my service and that a suitable command would be found for me when my duties as Fleet Captain were ended.  I told Admiral Porter of my wishes and he said he would, and I believe he did, second my application for the “Bat”.

The "Bat" loomed up in imagination, visions of more prize money were in my dreams, and freedom from the interminable clerical work seemed like an emancipation.

Kidder Breeze joined the"Malvern" on the 13th. The orders returning me from my duties as Fleet
Captain were delivered to me by Admiral Porter, and I started for my home in Philadelphia, on Waiting orders, after turning over to Breeze the papers and paraphernalia of our office, amongst them the reports and answers to the Specific Questions which had been intended for and were addressed to Admiral Farragut.


From the 14th of October until the 3rd of November I passed in the bosom of my family - for I had a family by that time - a daughter having been given us, born on the 20th of August. Those days were so happily passed and so quickly that I can hardly remember them. Times were full of events. I was getting nervously anxious to be in at the death of the rebellion, when my orders came to report without delay to Commodore Stringham at the Charlestown Navy Yard for the command of the coveted ship "Bat." I reported on the 5th of November, was busily engaged for several weeks in the conversion of this beautiful craft for service on the blockade, which involved more work that I anticipated. When nearly ready, decks strengthened, guns mounted, and a lot of volunteer officers found for her, and with only half a crew, for seamen were scarce, I was ordered to take on board a cargo of powder, some 200 odd tons, and deliver it off Wilmington for General Butler's powder boat, with which he expected to blow up Fort Fisher or the whole State of North Carolina. It was not a comfortable cargo, and the idea struck me as one of Butler's expedients to accomplish the capture of the Cape Fear defenses by some trickery rather than by fighting in which his precious person might be exposed. The somewhat ridiculous failure of this mighty endeavor has become a matter of history. Rhind & Preston took the powder boat upon the New Inlet bar, where she was exploded with about as much effect upon Fort Fisher as would have resulted from a fire cracker.

The powder in casks was finally, with great precaution and great discomfort, placed below decks in the hold and large vacant cabin, bringing the "Bat" down to her bearings. We were preparing to get out from the dock, the shore fastenings singled, steam up and pilot on board, when suddenly, without orders, the huge feathering paddles revolved and the poor little "Bat," true to her name, dashed blindly into the dock, smashing her stem and bow steel plates like cardboard. The engineer in charge said he simply tried "to blow out the cylinders," had no knowledge or experience with such sensitive engines. I got rid of him and another engineer was found -- not much better informed, but it was not until another week had passed, working night and day, that our injuries were so far repaired that I got to sea. We encountered a heavy south eastern gale off Gay Hood, were dismasted; the deck house took fire in the gale, the steering gear broke down, and the "Bat" came near laying her bones on Long Island shores.

Altogether, it was a trying time, both for the frail, over-ladened little vessel and for me. The gale lasted for three days, accompanied by snow, sleet and tremendous seas, but she rode it out bravely, her engines worked as smoothly as a watch, and as the wind hauled to the northwest and the weather cleared, I was enabled to lay my course for Hampton Roads where I arrived safe, minus my foremast and other little necessaries. I was too late with the powder, as that scheme had been tried and had failed most signally. Rhind & Preston had, on or about the 22nd of December, taken the "Louisiana," a steamer loaded with 235 tons of powder partly furnished by Butler, placed her on the New Inlet bar, fired her, escaping in boats to the escorting vessel, with no perceptible effect. The story of this powder boat scheme is too long to have further mention. Both Porter and Butler endeavored to place its paternity upon each other, both apparently ashamed of it. A review of the correspondence, which is voluminous, would show that Engineer, Ordnance, Naval and Military authorities, were divided in opinion as to the effect of such an explosion, and Admiral Porter repeatedly asserted that Butler would never had risked his precious person in the first attack on Fort Fisher had he not believed that the Torpedo boat would have levelled the forts and permitted him to walk into them undisturbed.

I found on my arrival at Hampton Roads that the first attack on Fort Fisher, which occurred on the 25th of December had failed, so that the blockading business still was open to the "Bat." I discharged my powder most gladly at the Naval Magazine and passed up to Norfolk for repairs and to get a new foremast. I tied up to the dock, and was getting the first quiet "night in" that I had enjoyed for many days, when I was turned out summarily by Captain Rhind and Lieutenant Preston during the mid watch, who brought orders for me to take them to Washington as bearer of important despatches from Admiral Porter, then holding on with his fleet off Cape Fear River, while General Butler and his army had ignominiously fled, Butler declaring that Fort Fisher was impregnable. From Rhind and Preston I learned that Porter was determined to stay, was urging that another army or another Commander of it should be sent to him, and had pledged his honor and reputation that Fort Fisher could be taken by the same army under a competent General in command of it. Preston stated that Butler was on his way to Washington with his tale of woe, and that Porter most earnestly desired to get his own report of the attack, the reasons of its failure, and the conditions then existing off Wilmington before the Secretary of the Navy, before or at the time of Butler's arrival in Washington. Steam was ordered in haste, and although the night was dark and threatening we were soon under way, threading our course out of the Elizabeth river, past Fort Monroe to the Potomac, up which we steamed, the "Bat" forced to her utmost speed, passing en route the steamer bearing Butler and his fortunes. Unfortunately we grounded, and for an hour or two were struggling in the embrace of a mud bank, which enabled Butler's boat to get the lead, so that our vessels arrived with a few hours of each other; Butler's a little ahead.

Admiral Porter's dispatches were, however, before the President and the Secretary of the Navy when Butler's statements were promulgated.  Rhind and Preston, both of whom had participated in the powder boat affair, from which some had expected great results, bore competent testimony as to the situation off Cape Fear River, in addition to the indignant protests of Porter's hastily prepared despatches.

Many of Butler's statements were denied, and branded as falsehoods. He declared that nothing less than a regular siege could reduce the forts, that Porter's bombardment left them uninjured, that tempestuous weather hindered and made it possible only to land a small part of his army, that nothing further could be done by the land forces, so he ordered them reembarked and to return to Hampton Roads.

Porter, on the other hand, stated that the bombardment by his fleet on the 24th and 25th nearly demolished Fort Fisher and surrounding works, and silenced every gun; that Butler made no attempt to take possession of them, that they were so "blown up, burst up and torn up," that the rebels had no intention to fight longer; had the army made even a show of attack, it would have surrendered; that only a few troops landed and reconnoitred when they were ordered by Butler to be reembarked, and they sailed off for home, leaving 700 men on shore without food or water, where they remained two days unmolested, whom Porter had to take off and care for. Porter added that if a competent General be sent, Fort Fisher could be taken at any moment, the men could walk right into the fort, that he was tempted to land his sailors and take it himself. He urged the Department not to give up the attack - to get Grant to send fresh troops under another General, that Fort Fisher couldn't be held an hour against a simultaneous army and navy attack; that it could have been taken on the 25th without the loss of a soldier. He said he felt ashamed that men calling themselves soldiers should have fled so ingloriously, deplored the employment of such an incompetent man as Butler in such undertakings; that he came there only to reap the credit, on the supposition that his powder boat explosion would sweep the forts off the face of the earth; had he thought of fighting he would never have thrust himself into the command. Porter added that if this failure succeeded in sending Butler into private life, it might be called a success. With a few more gentle criticisms upon Butler's military accomplishments, Porter implored the Government not to abandon the attack until he says he can't get into Fort Fisher and stop blockade running, "when the Confederacy can't live a day" - Porter further stating that he is aware that what he says may be impolitic, but he has always said what he thought and intends to do so until the end.

I dilate upon this Porter-Butler controversy because upon our arrival in the "Bat," and during my stay there it was the constant subject of conversation in hotels, at the Departments and on the streets, in which I became inevitably mixed up, although I knew only what I had learned from Preston and Rhind, apart from the published statements. I met Butler in Willard's hotel, who greeted me as an old and warm friend, although he must have known that I had no respect or regard for him. He had a host of admirers about him, had great political influence and ambitions, was feared by the parties in power, and believed he could put Porter down without trouble. Should any one desire to know more of the charges, countercharges, criminations and recriminations, let them read the official records, and the reports on the conduct of the war.

Until the 17th of January the "Bat" was kept at Washington. Her repairs completed, I took a short run to Philadelphia, and on the 17th took Mr. Jeffers with despatches to Admiral Porter, and reported at last to him for duty. He was in the "Malvern," lying safe and sound in the Cape Fear River, having, with General Terry in command of the same troops (formerly under Butler) after a three-days' fight, captured the forts at the mouth of Cape Fear River on the 15th of the month. The Admiral was in high spirits and grand form, received me most cordially, invited me to lunch with him, and naturally enough the conversation was mainly upon the comparisons between Butler and Terry, the first fight and the second and successful one, in which my experiences while in Washington, following the attack on the 25th of December, were matters of intense interest to him. The result of the recent victory was not known when I left. Indeed, I had passed Upshur in command of the "Advance," carrying the despatches two days before, who had announced the victory to me as we passed within hailing distance of his beautiful ship; like the "Bat," a captured blockade runner, steaming swiftly by, a perfect picture.

I might mention that General Butler was before the Congressional Committee, explaining how it was impossible to take Fort Fisher with his troops, when the newsboys were shouting an Extra: "Capture of Fort Fisher!" Well, here I was at least, inside those bars, off which I had passed so many anxious, watchful days and nights. Here I viewed those tremendous forts and earthworks which for years had barred our way, and to whose protection the Confederacy owed the bread of life and the power to continue their struggles for independence.

The Stars and Bars were supplanted by the Stars and Stripes, their discomforted garrisons were corralled as prisoners of war. Blockade running was at end, and with it the Confederacy was doomed. Porter gave me a day to go ashore and see things, but directed me to move down with the "Bat" off Smithville, as a decoy duck for such blockade runners as might, unaware of the change, be induced to run into the trap. Two did so - the "Stag" and "Charlotte". Another, the "Owl," a sister ship to the "Bat," commanded by Captain Maffit came in, but Maffit, cunning as a fox, scenting danger, turned about and got safely back to Bermuda. The capture of the "Stag" was somewhat dramatic. She was chased in, passed over the Western bar, came to anchor, and her officers and some passengers were celebrating their safe arrival in the cabin, with copious flowing bowls; the toast "Jeff Davis, and success to the Confederate arms" was interrupted by the appearance of Cushing at the cabin door. On seeing him the toast master stopped, gazed with eyes popping out of his head, his full glass extended, ejaculated: "Sold by God!"

This was Glassel, an officer of the old Navy, who passed a night with me on the "Bat." He was very down-in-the-mouth, but remarked that like the old lady misused at a cornhusking, he didn't pity himself much as he had no business to be there.

I went ashore the next day but my time was so short that I could only take a hurried view of the interiors of the Mound battery, the Torpedo Station and Fort Fisher. It was a scene of desolation, ruin and havoc. The ground was literally covered with fragments of shells, the parapets torn and burst, the guns dismounted or useless, the scorched and blackened remains of quarters and buildings attested to the severity and accuracy of the fire of the ship's heavy guns. Temporary hospital tents were filled with wounded men.

New-made graves marked the spots where many were buried. The explosion of one of the magazines, after the fort was occupied by our men, had killed many, and its results added to the general ruinous aspects of the interior. I made my way to the sea front of Fort Fisher, the point of assault by the detachment of sailors from the fleet, which under the command of Kidder Breeze had attempted with revolvers and cutlasses to carry the fort by "boarding", and Breeze, who was my companion, pointed out to me where poor Preston and Porter [?]  died, and Bob Evans was wounded. Here and there, thickly scattered, were the resting places of the poor fellows who were mowed down as they charged, on the run, the high parapet, which undefended would tax the strength and agility of most men to ascend, as did mine as I scrambled up the slopes. That they could have got, under such murdering fire, as far as they did, seemed to me, impossible. Burial parties from the fleet had placed boards on the graves of their fallen shipmates with the names of the men written in pencil upon them.

Breeze explained to me the reasons why his sailors failed to enter the fort, blaming the marines somewhat for not performing the part assigned them, which was to cover the assaulting columns of sailors by rifle fire, but he agreed with me that the sailors' assault was a forlorn hope, a desperate chance, which steady resistance made impossible of success. Nevertheless, he claimed, and later investigations found, that the sailors' assault had much to do with the final result; that the confederates thought it was the principal attack, and drew off a large part of the garrison to repel it, thus making the attack of the troops on the enemy's left, by which the fort was entered and taken, easier - so that the sailors had not fought in vain. We paid our respects to General Terry, for whom Porter could not say enough of praise for his admirable work and hearty co-operation.

At this time, General Sherman, having accomplished his march to the sea and occupied Savannah, turned to Charleston, and was supposed to be marching Northward. Porter was desirous of course to communicate to him the conditions in and about the town of Wilmington, still defended by batteries, torpedoes and obstructions. On the 23rd of January he ordered me to cruise down the coast as far as Georgetown, S.C., with the purpose of opening communications with Sherman, and at the same time to look out for blockade runners who might endeavor to go into Georgetown. I was soon there, received a letter from Sherman, returning with it at once to Cape Fear River, reporting the situation of Sherman and his army, operating steadily through the State of South Carolina and laying waste the country. Sherman's letter was characteristic. He declared his objective was Newberne or Goldsboro, and urged Porter to hold those places with all tenacity. He remarked after, discussing the general situation, that "I am glad that the current of events has carried Butler back to Lowell where he should have stayed and confined his beli-cose operations to the factory girls. He is a mighty man of words, but little in deeds of valor."

Having delivered Sherman's letter, I passed several days cruising along the coast, out at sea on the lines of Blockade runners between Bermuda and the coast, encountered some heavy weather, which the "Bat" rode out with the ease and grace of a duck. She was indeed a wonderful little vessel, most admirably adapted to the purposes for which she was constructed. But her usefulness was at an end. Blockade running was a thing of the past. Every port was now sealed and closed; their wrecks strewed the beaches. The large fleet of these swift little thoroughbreds still afloat in various British ports, had to seek other employment, and for the "Bat," there remained only the fetching and carrying of despatches and such odd jobs as the Navy Department or the Admiral might select for her. Running short of coal, I returned to Cape Fear River for orders. The situation there was interesting. General Schofield was in command on shore. Porter had moved his fleet higher up the river, and operations were active for the reduction of the forts and batteries and removal of obstructions and innumerable submarine mines which barred our way to Wilmington, a place now really of no great importance. I crossed the Western bar, ran up close to the flagship, anchored and made a verbal report to the Admiral.


He [Admiral Porter]  was in very high spirits, full of fun, kept open house for officers of his liking; had several captured saddle horses on shore, one of which he placed at my disposal, and which I used to my great personal discomfort for several days, after a long ride in and about the abandoned works. Here, I met Selfridge, one of our "Advanced Class," in command of the _____________________ as well as a great number of regular officers, whom Porter always had with him Clitz, Beaumont, Davis, Weaver, Walmough, Cusing, Chandler, Young, Stone, Braine, Temple, Caldwell, Sicard, Walker, Ramsay, Harris. He kept them all busy, edged a mile or so every day further up the river, engaging batteries, making night expeditions ashore. The "Bat" was of no sort of use; I was a mere looker-on, but kept up with the fleet, complaining and grumbling that there was no work cut out for me. On the third day I was lunching with Porter; a brisk fight was going on at the head of the line, during which the Admiral had good cause to criticize the movements and fire from the "Lenapee" a splendid double-ender, one of the latest and best specimens of her class. I was standing near Porter, watching the firing. He exclaimed: "What the devil is the matter with that man, McGaw!" and he ordered a signal to be made to the "Lenapee" to drop down and come within hail, and turning sharp around he said: "Barnes, I'll have you in charge of that ship before sundown." Sure enough, as I was leaving the "Malvern," Breeze came up and handed me orders to take command of the "Lenapee," and for Captain McGaw to go on board of the "Bat" without delay. I had to "hustle," packing up my belongings; in an hour I was alongside the "Lenapee," found poor McGaw playing a guitar, with a darky rubbing his head, a bottle of stale beer before him. I gave him his orders, showed him mine. He seemed half stunned or stupefied, called his executive officer, who, with the assistance of his steward, packed him off in less than an hour to the "Bat," leaving me in command of a vessel to which my rank did not at all entitle me, as there were a number of regular officers in the fleet, my superiors in rank who commanded much inferior ships.

The first thing I did was to have the crew called to quarters. There was no regular quarter bill, the men were green, the volunteer officers greener; they just went to the several guns as a mob - being told to take such positions at the guns as came handy. The executive said they had not been drilled at quarters since the ship went into commission, that it was his first service, and he had done the best he could or knew how, that Captain McGaw had been ill ever since he came on board, etc., etc. From stem to stern the vessel was in a state of confusion and everything had gone on in a happy-go-lucky sort of fashion. I kept the men at quarters all that afternoon, got things into some order, reporting her condition to Admiral Porter late that night, requesting another day for preparation for service. All the next day was steadily employed in stationing and drilling the men at quarters. Officers and men were willing enough, and before night they knew something. And the "Lenapee" was ready to do fairly well in the work ahead of her. The fleet was pushed up in echelon the following morning to a point below Fort Anderson, the 'double enders' leading, the "Lenapee" fourth or fifth in the line, the smaller gun boats in echelon to the right. Several days passed in a constant fight with Fort Anderson, while Schofield's army abandoning the attempt to turn the left flank of the Confederate army, by landing on the sea face, charged over the West bank of the river, and moved up and to the rear of the fort. This movement took several days, during which the "Lenapee," moving gradually up stream with the fleet, was daily engaged until the 19th, when the Fort was abandoned by the enemy. My men fell into their traces with a will. We were constantly under fire. On the 18th it was very severe. All of the vessels were struck several times, a number killed and wounded. When the action was at its height, the double enders were pushed up one after another a few ships' lengths ahead, were anchored with springs on the cables until the line was extended to within one or two throws and yards of the Fort. The "Lenapee" was the last ordered up ahead, and as I passed Clitz in the "Osceola," the then leader, he sung out cheerily: "Go ahead, Barnes, there's a Captain's commission waiting for you up there!" I went ahead, dropped anchor and blazed away. Of course few of us had pilots; the tide was ebb, running strong; our bow pivot was the only really effective gun. I had come up with the headgear, and could use it directly ahead, the broadside guns could only be [engaged] occasionally as the spring on the cable could hold her but for a moment. In this position, finding the ship could not be swung, I found that she had grounded, stuck fast with the tide ebbing like a mill race. Ammunition for the pivot gun was wanting, night coming on with shell from Anderson and Fort Lee high up the river dropping and exploding on and near us.

One big fellow just skipping the rail forward burst immediately over our pivot; every man fell to the deck, a fragment whizzed by my head as I stood on the forward edge of the bridge. I thought the guns’ crew was swept out of existence, but only two were slightly wounded, and until nine o'clock the artillery duel went on, our vessels firing slowly in reply. The heavy rifle at Fort Lee had the range of us; I could see the flash of the gun, and for ten or fifteen seconds trace by its burning fuse like a bright star the approaching missle. The reserve ammunition vessel came up as the firing ceased, and all of us at the head of the line replenished our magazines and shell rooms. Many men were killed and more wounded, but the "Lenapee" escaped injury and none were killed.

I ran a hawser out to the ammunition boat, warped our launch out to her, and took in several boatloads of 100-pounder shell. During the last trip the launch was capsized and several men lost. All that night until the turn of the tide the "Lenapee" rested a-ground, and it was not until towards daylight that we succeeded in swinging her broadside towards Fort Anderson, so that our guns would bear upon it. It was all hands all night for every soul on board. As we were heeled over to port, I had to cut away the upper sills of the side gun ports to bring the guns to bear, and as daylight came we were all ready to renew the fight with the pivots and port battery. We had been cautioned by the Admiral to look out for our troops, known to be working up to the rear of Anderson. Before opening fire as the day broke, we saw a body of soldiers, charging on the run and close to the Southern flank of the Fort, and in a few minutes they mounted the parapets unopposed, waving the old flag. Anderson had been abandoned and Schofield was in possession. I confess I was glad for many reasons.

Porter, with the vessels in the rear, came ploughing by me, just as the rising tide put me once more afloat. He was good enough to signal "Well done, 'Lenapee'." and waved his hat at us as he passed. I don't know but that his signal was in ironical praise for getting aground, but I didn't care, and in obedience to his general signal to follow him, I moved up and anchored a half mile above and close to the shore. I jumped into the gig, and met him and many of the officers inside the fort. We went to work at the submarine mines which were plentifully distributed all through the channels, took possession of the electrical machines - exploded many - raised and hauled up on the shore several hugh torpedoes, this work taking the whole of that day before the channel was safe. I seized, and with Admiral Porter's permission, appropriated one of the beautifully constructed magnetic electric batteries, the first ever seen by any of us, but Tom Selfridge, finding it where I had hidden it, took it off with him, and I saw it again at the Naval Academy and made the drawing of it to be found in my "Submarine Warfare."

I might mention that during our occupation of Cape Fear River, every night scores of floating torpedoes of various devices were sent down upon our thickly clustered fleet, and the night before the capture of Anderson, upwards of 200 of these infernal machines were set adrift above us, doing some damage to our vessels and killing a number of men, who in boats were detailed to steer them clear or sink them by rifle fire.

One exploded near the "Lenapee". A number were shoved clear of her - and one I succeeded, after drowning it, in hoisting on board. The fall of Anderson soon brought the abandonment with little effort of forts Lee, and Strong, and other fortifications about Wilmington. The fleet moved up to the town and the army took possession of this wretched but famous port of entry for the past four years of the English blockade runners. Of course I got ashore and looked over the town, filled with negroes who were extravagant in their boisterous welcome. One old negro was particularly demonstrative, shouting as I passed by: "Whar you horns? whar you tail - how fat you look!" with dramatic gestures that would have commanded a big price in a negro minstrel troupe.

(Illustration to be printed)

We took possession of Wilmington on the 22nd of February, Washington's Birthday, firing a national salute in commemoration of the event, although, heaven knows, we had been making noise enough and burnt enough powder during the past week to satisfy the patriotism of any ardent country lover.

As I had anticipated, Captain Ralph Chandler, several years my senior, claimed and was ordered to relieve me on the "Lenapee," and I was not sorry to turn her over to him in fine shape, and go back to my dear little "Bat." There was no more work for gun boats in those waters, nor for blockade service anywhere. It was plain as a pike staff that the Confederacy was crumbling to pieces. Sherman was striding Northwards. Charleston was occupied by Dahlgren; Grant was pushing vigorously at Petersburg; Lee was despondent. The Southerners were starving. Military resources exhausted, it was a mere question of days when the end would come, and it was believed without more serious fighting and increased losses.

I had no sooner regained the deck of the "Bat," than with a big letter bag and despatches for Washington, I steamed off for Hampton Roads. On my arrival at Washington, Mr. Fox, with his friends, Mr. Green and Mr. Sturges, (the former later the husband of the famous Mrs. Hetty Green), came on board and took passage with me to Fortress Monroe and City Point, making a hurried visit there and to Norfolk, returning with them to Washington on the 3rd of March.

Mr. Fox was very much pleased with the "Bat”, he and his guests were very comfortably berthed, she ran like a deer, sometimes 18 knots per hour. I fed them with all my delicacies, and although spirits were forbidden, I noticed that the medicine on the sideboard, in those old and beautiful decanters of my grandmother, escaped his official censure, and suffered from an ebbtide, when I was not below. On the trip Mr. Fox told me that Mr. Lincoln wanted to visit City Point, and that he thought it would be a pleasant wind-up if I would undertake to carry him there and look out for him. Of course I was delighted at the idea, and Mr. Fox telegraphed the President that the "Bat" would be at his disposal on her arrival at Washington. I think I should say here that Mr. Fox sent me a check for $100. for the "delicacies" and "medicine" consumed by him and his friends while my guests.

Soon after our arrival I was brought into communication with Mr. Lincoln, and was ordered by the Department to get the "Bat" ready to receive and care for his comfort and safety, upon his proposed trip to visit General Grant at City Point. Commodore Montgomery at the Navy Yard was directed to make all needed changes for this service, which took ten days more, during which I took a short run to Philadelphia and had a delightful visit to my wife and little daughter.

On my return to the "Bat" I found that Mrs. Lincoln had determined to accompany the President to City Point. I had interviews with him and with her, consulted with Mr. Fox, the result of which was that the "Bat" could not afford proper accommodation for ladies and maid servants. Mrs. Lincoln insisting and much against the very apparent wishes of the President, that go with the President she would, the large, fine river steamboat, "The River Queen" was chartered for the family, and with my armed yacht I was ordered to convoy her to City Point or elsewhere, to have special care for the safety of Mr. Lincoln on the water and to be subject wholly to his directions.
The "River Queen" closely followed by the "Bat," left Washington on March 23rd, 1865 at one o'clock.


In my letters to my wife, my services with Mr. Lincoln during his memorable visit to General Grant during this month and until his return to Washington, and his assassination, are related with more or less particularity. These letters are those which she first produced, and which led to the publication in Appleton's Magazine, for May and June, 1907, of the more precise narration heretofore alluded to as my first essay as a Magazine Contributor. I hesitate about rehearsing this most interesting episode of my war experiences but as few persons of my acquaintance have ever seen the articles, and as no one outside of my immediate family will ever read the letters, I venture to repeat as briefly as I can, the principal events of those eventful days:

We reached Fort Monroe the following morning, stopped a half hour for telegraphic communication with Washington and General Grant and pushed up the James at top speed for City Point, where we arrived the evening of the 24th. Communication was had with the General, and it was arranged to have a review of the troops besieging Petersburg the following day. General Grant and his staff paid their respects to Mrs. Lincoln on the "River Queen" made fast to the wharf. I breakfasted by invitation with the President the following morning, escorting Mrs. Lincoln to the saloon on the lower deck. 'Thad' and a Captain Penrose were the only others present. While at breakfast Captain Robert Lincoln, who was temporarily on Grant's staff as an aide, came in with the news that a serious fight was going on at the front, that the Confederates had pierced our lines; that reports were meager, but the enemy had been repulsed with heavy loss, that the fight was still going on, and of course the proposed review was abandoned. Mr. Lincoln wrote a telegram to Mr. Stanton, saying there was a "Rumpus at the front," making light of it, that he intended to go there if possible. Admiral Porter and other officers called and we all walked up to Grant's headquarters.

Grant was rather opposed to the President' s proposed trip, but later news from the front was more assuring as to its propriety; a special train was provided about noon time, and we set out over the rough military railroad between City Point and the front, to General Meade's headquarters. The serious nature of the fight that day was apparent, as we passed through a portion of the battlefield. The Confederates, under General Gordon at early daylight, had made a sudden attack upon our lines of investment, captured Fort Stedman and other batteries, with many prisoners, including one of our general officers, driving our men back and over the railroad embankment upon which our train was halted. The ground about us was covered with dead and wounded men, federals and confederate. The whole army was under arms and moving to the left, where a desultory firing, both musketry and artillery was to be seen and heard. Mr. Lincoln was taken in charge by General Meade, and on horseback was taken to a place where a good view of the scene could be had. Saddle horses had been sent on the train. One was given to me. We passed over the ground where the fighting had been most severe, where numbers of dead were still lying, with burial parties at their dreadful work, while surgeons and men of the sanitary commission were attending to the wounded, and distributing bread and water. We passed through a body of 2,000 rebel prisoners of war, who had been captured within our lines only a few hours before. They were as sorry and dirty a lot as can be imagined. Mr. Lincoln was quiet and observant, making few comments, asking few questions, listened to explanations, betraying no excitement, but showing sympathetic feeling for the suffering about him.

When we returned to the train Mr. Lincoln looked worn and haggard. He remarked that he hoped he had seen the last of the horror of war, that this fight was the beginning of the end. The fight that he had called a "Rumpus" was a most sanguinary battle, almost the last of the war, our losses being over 2,000, while that of the Confederates upwards of 5,000 in killed, wounded and prisoners.

On reporting to Mr. Lincoln on the 26th , I found him recovered from the fatigue of the day before, full of confidence that the war was drawing to a close. He called me in to his office, read me a lot of dispatches from Mr. Stanton, one expressing anxiety as to his exposing himself, and drawing contrasts between the duties of a General in the field and the President Commander-in-Chief of the army and navy,  to which he replied that he would take care of himself. Admiral Porter, General Ord, General Sheridan came on board with others, and a programme was arranged for the President to see Sheridan's cavalry force then crossing the James at Harrison' landing, then pass the Naval flotilla in review, and then review General Ord's division, encamped on the left bank of the river near Malvern Hills. Mrs. Grant and Mrs. Lincoln were to accompany the excursion. Horses and ambulances were placed on the "River Queen." Horace Porter kindly loaned me his favorite beast with some jocular remarks as to "Sailors on horseback." We witnessed the passing over the Pontoon bridge of Sheridan's men in a constant stream, while the bank was lined with them, bathing, watering their horses and having a fine time. They cheered the President vociferously, as we laid by for a few minutes, then turning, stood up between the naval flotilla, dressed with flags and cheering as we passed, Mr. Lincoln waving his high hat in reply, as happy as a school boy. The Admiral had prepared a good lunch on the "Malvern," and going alongside of her we all enjoyed it; Mr. Lincoln making fun of the luxurious living of an Admiral as compared with that of a General. Indeed, it was a wonderful feast for the time and place, but Porter always managed to do such things with lavishness and unbounded hospitality regardless of expense. Luncheon over, all reembarked on the "Queen," and we proceeded to Aitkens Landing. Here the ambulances and saddle horses were put ashore; a great number of officers and their staffs were awaiting our arrival, and the cavalcade after some delay started for the reviewing ground. General Grant and General Ord leading on each side of Mr. Lincoln; Mrs. Lincoln and Mrs. Grant following in the ambulance, escorted by Horace Porter and Badeau of Grant's staff.

Mrs. Ord, wife of the General was on horseback. The General introduced me to her, saying that he placed her in care of the Navy, but intimated that she would take care of me. "Sailors on horseback" were again referred to. The road to the camp was tortuous, corduroyed, through swampy ground and thick underbrush, connecting Ord's camp with a Pontoon bridge at Aitkens landing. The president was in high spirits, laughing and chatting alternately with Grant and Ord. He rode with some ease upon a gentle horse with a pacing gait, clad in a long-tailed black frock coat, unbuttoned, a low cut black vest displayed a rumpled white shirt. He had no straps and his black trousers worked up showing some inches of white socks. With his high hat of a bygone fashion, which looked as if brushed the wrong way, he was rather an ungainly horseman.

We arrived late. The division had been several hours under arms awaiting the President. Mrs. Lincoln and Mrs. Grant had been delayed and the President decided to go on with the review, without waiting for them. The President, Generals Grant and Ord, followed by a brilliant array, proceeded to the right of the long line and passed in front, the bands playing, colors dipping, the soldiers at present arms. Mrs. Ord asked me whether it was proper for her to accompany the reviewing party. I didn't know, but one of the staff, said "of course, come along!" and we fell in to the rear. Half way down Mrs. Ord exclaimed: "Oh, Captain, there come Mrs. Lincoln and Mrs. Grant; I think I had better join them," and running out of the crowd, we galloped over to the side of the ambulance, where Mrs. Ord attempted to express regret at their delay. I saw there was trouble. Porter and Badeau were glum. Mrs. Lincoln was simply furious with anger; Mrs. Grant silent and unhappy. I will not repeat Mrs. Lincoln's remarks, levelled at Mrs. Ord and at me. They can only be attributed to an unbalanced mind. Mrs. Ord was petrified, only uttering painfully, "Oh, Mrs. Lincoln, what have I done!", and as Mrs. Lincoln said she would have me dismissed from the Navy, we both backed out of hearing absolutely dumb with astonishment. There were other victims of her displeasure after the review ended. Mrs. Ord jointed the General, and I made my way back to City Point on horseback, sore and discomforted, Mr. and Mrs. Lincoln returning to the "River Queen."

I visited the "River Queen" as usual, got the countersign, saw everything in order, and turned in very tired on the "Bat," laying close aboard.

At about ten o'clock I was aroused by Captain Robert Lincoln coming on board with a message from his father, that he would like to see me. I was soon on the "River Queen," and going to the upper cabin, met Mr. and Mrs. Lincoln both standing, Mr. Lincoln the saddest man I ever saw.

The conversation which ensued will not bear repeating. The general purport was that Mrs. Ord had, to Mrs. Lincoln's mind, very improperly conducted herself on the review, had made herself too conspicuous, had tried to pass herself off as the wife of the President. Mr. Lincoln said he hardly noticed her presence, a remark not received kindly. Mrs. Lincoln appealed to me to corroborate her impressions. The interview lasted some twenty minutes, with all shades of argument and assertions. It was extremely painful to the President, and I think I discovered the cause of that vein of sadness which so often was observed in the expression of the features of this gentlest and most affectionate man.

I asked permission to retire, backed out, the President bidding me good night sadly.

The following day, the President, through Captain Robert, asked me to go with him to the Point of Rocks, to visit the supposed scene between Poccohontos and Captain John Smith. I did so of course. Mrs. Grant was of the party, gotten up especially for Mrs. Lincoln. A curious scene occurred in which Mrs. Grant and Mrs. Lincoln had an argument, and I again came under Mrs. Lincoln's displeasure for an attempted act of politeness, suggested by Mrs. Grant in the hopes of reconciliation, simply pushing out upon the forward deck where Mrs. Lincoln sat alone, a comfortable armchair in place of the Life preserver deck stool. She refused it most abruptly, arose and turned her back upon me. I retired respectfully, returned to Mrs. Grant, who had witnessed the failure, when she was summoned by gesture to join Mrs. Lincoln. Mrs. Grant, sweet tempered, gentle and winning in her womanly ways, obeyed the beckoning gesture and joined her. I witnessed the interview between these two women, and saw that it was exciting; Mrs. Lincoln talking excitedly; Mrs. Grant gradually but in a low, gentle voice and quiet dignified manner, becoming for her, emphatic. As she joined Mrs. Lincoln she sat upon one of the stools, Mrs. Lincoln standing; whereupon Mrs. Lincoln accused her of want of etiquette, in sitting in the presence of the President's wife, without being invited - that such action was not respectful - contrary to White House usage, that if Mrs. Grant ever came to Washington she would learn what etiquette demanded. Mrs. Grant who repeated to me the conversation, replied that if Mrs. Lincoln was the wife of the President, she was the wife of the General in Command of the armies of the United States, who could be President of the United States if he wished, and that she would sit down anywhere if she thought it more agreeable than to stand in any one's presence. Whereupon Mrs. Lincoln asserted that she had observed Mrs. Grant and me "laughing at her," and directed her to say to me that she desired me to leave the boat and never come near her again.

We reached Point of Rocks. Mr. and Mrs. Lincoln and Thad wandered ashore. Mrs. Grant and I remained on board, discussing the situation, the result being that I got the skipper to put me ashore at the Quartermaster's depot opposite, borrowed a horse, and made my way back to City Point. There was only one conclusion: My personal situation became impossible.

I was not the only one who had come under Mrs. Lincoln's displeasure, and her mental condition was a matter of discussion; the general conclusion being that her mind was unbalanced. She was at no time well, the mental strain upon her was excessive, evidenced by hysteria, misapprehensions, extreme sensitiveness as to supposed slights or want of politeness or consideration on the part of others about her. I had great sympathy for her and greater for Mr. Lincoln, who I know felt great anxiety for her. His manner towards her was always marked by the most affectionate solicitude, that no one seeing them together could fail to be impressed by it, and on his account made every allowance for the frequent eccentricities, marking her intercourse with the distinguished officers and civilians who every day visited the President.

The great catastrophe a few days later proved the breaking strain in this poor lady's mind. Who can wonder and who will not find a reason for it? Few women there are, who ill and nervous, could have passed through such an ordeal and retained their reason.

The evening of the Point of Rocks trip, General Sherman arrived at City Point from Newberne or Goldsborough in an army transport. I met him on the "River Queen," early the next day, going as usual to make my rounds of the vessel, where he and General Grant were in conference with the President. A great number of Generals, amongst them Sheridan and Meade, also Admiral Porter, were present, and after their private conference, all assembled in the lower cabin. I was present, hearing many relations of war events and discussions of the general situation.

Mr. Lincoln expressed considerable solicitude and nervousness as to Sherman's absence from his army, and it was evident that others shared in his feeling, to such an extent that it was determined that he should return at once to his command. Later I was summoned to Grant's headquarters, where I met Sherman, Admiral Porter, also Mrs. Grant. The interview with the President was gone over. I remember Mrs. Grant asked Sherman if he had asked for or seen Mrs. Lincoln on the "River Queen." Sherman replied "No"; he hadn't thought about it, and Grant hadn't spoken of it. She replied that Mr. Grant and he were a pretty pair. This brought up the condition of Mrs. Lincoln, and Mrs. Grant's and my experiences, and the purport of my being called was explained, when Admiral Porter, placed the "Bat" at Sherman's disposal, as being faster and better suited than his transport, to take him back to his army.

As Sherman had a number of his officers with him I had a few preparations to make for their sustenance, and it was arranged for Sherman to leave the following day at an hour convenient to him.

Meantime, Sherman was to again call upon Mr. Lincoln, and vowed he wouldn't forget Mrs. Lincoln and get himself into the scrape that I was in. I know he did expressly ask for Mrs. Lincoln the next day, but she would not see him.

General Sherman and his officers, General Leggett, General McClernand, General Sharpe and Colonel McCoy, came on board on the 28th of March, and we steamed rapidly down the James, stopped an hour at Fort Monroe, where we took on board Senator John Sherman and Mr. Stanton, son of the Secretary of War, and proceeded to Newberne. This large list of passengers taxed my accommodations and my cuisine, but I managed to make them all fairly comfortable, giving up my own berth to the General and killing my fatted calf. In fact, I was delighted to be thus intimately thrown in company with the General, and to be relieved of the duty which my relations with Mrs. Lincoln had made so unpleasant. General Sherman's wonderful march and its incidents were gone over; his marked powers of vivid description made his talk most fascinating, interspersed with amusing anecdotes and more serious relations of the battles fought, particularly at Atlanta, where he rapidly sketched a plan of the forts on both sides, Hood's attack and McPerson's death marking the spot where he fell. I kept that sketch, asked him to affix his autograph upon it and have it now. He told many amusing stories that I cannot remember, many of which have appeared in his memoirs, in which, by the way, he makes mention at some length of the "Bat" and her commander. One I do not find there. He said:

"The army was marching through the woods with occasional clearings - and farms. It was nightfall and according to my custom, on passing a rather comfortable-looking house, I knocked at the door and asked hospitality for the night. Getting no response, I entered, and found in the rear room an elderly lady, washing clothes in a but; no men in evidence. As politely as possible I stated who I was and my object. She went on with her work, saying she didn't mind if I stopped a while, but hoped I wouldn't bother her. That Mr. Wheeler had been there some time before with his Crittur Company, had upsot her ash barrel, which she wouldn't have had happened for any money."

Sherman added that 100,000 men were streaming by her door, but she never once spoke of or looked at them. Her husband and sons were all in the Confederate army, and she didn't know whether they were alive or dead, hadn't heard of them for months, and all the opinion she had of the war was confined to General Joe Wheeler's upsetting her ash barrel, by which she made soap.

We were off Cape Hatteras on the 29th. I made a short cut across the shoals, got into Pamlico South through Hatteras Inlet, then up the Neuse river to a few miles below Newberne, when through undue pressure to attain high speed, the engine came to a stop. As it would take some hours for repairs, I sent the General and my guests up to Newberne in my boats and went up to the town the next morning. There at General Sherman's request I again received Senator Sherman and Mr. Stanton on board, and with a big mail and despatches, returned to City Point in hot haste, dropping Mr. Sherman and Mr. Stanton at Fort Monroe, arriving at City Point April 2nd, having been absent about five days. General Sherman wrote me an exceeding pleasant and appreciative letter delivered by his brother, and the acquaintance thus formed continued with considerable intimacy all his life. I regard him by far the ablest General on our side developed during the war, and the criticisms passed upon his treatment of Johnston by Stanton and a portion of the rabid press is most unjust, unreasonable and abominable, but above which he rose more esteemed and honored than ever by all persons whose opinions were valued.

Comparisons may be out of place here, but as I had opportunity in my humble position to see and judge of the two men as they impressed me then, I feel constrained to express them. Intellectually, in his study and knowledge of Military science, as a strategist, as a leader of men and in all the various qualifications which are needed for a man of independent thought and action, Sherman was the superior of Grant. The same mental condition which made of Grant the favorite of political leaders, and caused them to submit to the popular demand for his elevation to the Presidency as a reward for being at the head of the army to which the exhausted Confederacy surrendered - was not in Sherman's composition. The politicians thought they saw in Grant a man of a temperament that could be molded and made subservient in the devious paths of politics.

They knew that Sherman would think and act for himself. Grant accepted the nomination to a place and duties of which he was profoundly ignorant, apparently willing or ready to be guided. He did not court popularity; neither did Sherman, who would have declined the nomination for the same reasons that induced Grant to accept it, that is, ignorance of its duties and responsibilities and a sense of unfitness. Grant,as a General, was cold, phlegmatic, reserved, obstinate - great qualities, which served great ends. He never calculated losses, or was moved by his sensations or those of others. He stuck to his intimates through thick and thin, was utterly devoid of sentiment, but resolute, bold and undemonstrative, he pushed his way sturdily to his object without looking beyond its immediate execution, leaving future events to time.

He assumed command of the armies in the East, when all eastern men had failed, but found his enemy, Lee's army, almost helpless, without food, clothing, short of munitions and the implements of war, dispirited and forlorn, but desperate like a wounded dying animal. He waded through the bloody fields in the Wilderness to the sough bank of the James, and there the great rebellion ended, and the Confederacy fell and expired after a few dying struggles from pure exhaustion, and Grant reaped the harvest of glory, as the instrument by which the result was achieved, while Sherman's more wonderful and greater, although comparatively bloodless achievements - were comparatively lost sight of. Both men were great in their respective ways, but Sherman as a man and a General was the greater.


With this divergence I come back to the insignificant little "Bat," which flew back to City Point on the 2nd of April. Great changes had taken place during her absence. First to my great relief, Mrs. Lincoln had returned to Washington on the "River Queen," leaving Mr. Lincoln and Thad the guests of Admiral Porter on the "Malvern." Grant's army was moving around Petersburg and Richmond. Grant's headquarters at City Point were abandoned, and the place was filled with prisoners, guarded by the sailors and marines of the fleet. I reported my return to Mr. Lincoln and Admiral Porter on the morning of the 3rd, gave them an account of my trip with Sherman and delivered despatches addressed to them. Mr. Lincoln expressed satisfaction that Sherman was again at the head of his army. He had just received a despatch which he read, from Grant, that Petersburg was in possession of our troops, and that he was there and would be glad to see Mr. Lincoln there also, and would send an escort for him at Patrick station. A train was made up at City Point, and the President, Admiral Porter, Thad Lincoln, and several others unknown to me, proceeded to the nearest point to Petersburg, about one and a half miles from the town. An escort was awaiting the President, with an ambulance for his use. The Admiral, I think, borrowed a horse from one of the mounted escort, but I chose to go afoot, as I was curious to see the rebel works that had so long defied us, and made my way into the town, passing through a perfect labyrinth of trenches, breastworks, batteries, rifle pits, zig-zag connections and approaches dug deep into the ground. The federal and rebel lines were not fifty yards apart, at the point called Fort Mahone, and known by the men as Fort Hell. The ground intervening was so thickly strewn with the half covered bodies of soldiers, that one had to be careful in stepping amongst them. I came across the body of one of our men, lying prone on the ground, twenty yards in front of our line, half sheltered by a slightly raised furrow; he was dressed completely in his uniform, his musket cocked, loaded and pressed against his shoulder. On lifting his cap a bullet hole was squarely placed between his closed eyes, coming out at the back of his head. He had evidently been caught out there at daylight, and himself a sniper, had been sniped as he lay behind the little furrow. I called a soldier's attention to him, who examined his garments, took down his Regiment and Company, and said he would put him under ground. Reaching town at last, I found Mr. Lincoln and Admiral Porter with General Grant, and after a few minutes gazing about the place, made my way back to the train, my only trophy being a bag of Lone Jack Smoking Tobacco, pillaged from a warehouse nearby, given me by one of our men.

We returned to our train after an hour passed in Petersburg, Mr. Lincoln going on board the "Malvern," the "Bat" was at anchor close by. I passed the evening on the "Malvern" until eleven o'clock. General Weitzel telegraphed the President that Richmond was evacuated, confirming the rumor that had reached Grant that day at Petersburg, that Lee was retreating and Davis had fled from the city. All the night a lurid glare lit the sky in that direction. Heavy explosions followed in rapid succession, which Admiral Porter rightly interpreted as the blowing up of the rebel fleet. Before leaving the "Malvern", Mr. Lincoln determined that if the way were clear he would go to Richmond the next day with the Admiral in the "Malvern," and orders were given to the vessels ahead to clear a passage in the obstructions and the channel of the torpedoes and mines. At eight o'clock the following morning the way was reported as open, and the channel fairly clear. The "Malvern" got under way, the "Bat" being ordered to follow. We pushed slowly up the river, through the gap in the obstructions at Trent's reach, upon which the "Bat" lightly touched, and was delayed a few minutes. A number of vessels had joined the procession with flags flying at each masthead. Although the channel had been reported cleared of mines, and a number had been removed, or the wire connections cut, still I could not help feeling anxious for the "Malvern" which was steaming rapidly ahead, past Chaffen's bluff, the wrecks of the rebel fleet, the remains of the rebel obstructions, and their now abandoned forts. Coming up with the "Malvern" which had run aground just below the city limits, I found that the Admiral, taking the President, had embarked in his barge and was then pulling up to the city. I manned my gig, and pulled after him with all the speed possible, landing at Rocketts soon after Mr. Lincoln and the Admiral. I saw them some distance off, surrounded by a dense mass of people, mostly negroes, the tall hat of the President looming up above the crowd. A few sailors with carbines were their only escort. Not a soldier was in sight, while the mob seemed frantic, edging up and rushing against the little party, shouting and praying aloud in negro fashion. Although General Weitzel had been in possession of the city since the evening before, there was no attempt made to patrol the streets, and in the quarter where we landed, the streets, at first deserted, soon became impeded by the dense crowds, as the rumor was circulated that President Abraham was there in his own person. I confess that I was greatly alarmed for his safety, and wondered then as I always have, that Porter should have permitted such an exposure. Nothing could have been easier of accomplishment than his assassination by some rebel fanatic, for fully an hour, practically unprotected, he stood amongst and struggled with that promiscuous crowd, actually in touch with them. I endeavored, in company with the "Bat's" surgeon - my only companion - to reach him, pushing the negroes aside, claiming passage and fairly fighting my way. The excitement was intense, increasing every moment, as we slowly progressed towards - I knew not, nor did Admiral Porter - some point where our army should be in evidence. The day was sultry; the great warehouses in flames, the streets filled with dust and smoke. I don't know who guided the Admiral, but our general direction was toward the Capitol site. By dint of effort and appeals I succeeded in reaching a point quite near him. Of course Porter supposed that Weitzel was in full possession of the city and that communication would at once be made to him of the President's arrival and a proper escort provided for him. In fact a half dozen rebels could easily have destroyed the whole party without possibility of effectual resistance. But "All's well that ends well."

As the situation became almost unendurable, Mr. Lincoln nearly exhausted by the heat, the excitement and physical effort, looking pale, haggard, but calm and silent, we came upon a solitary cavalry man posted at the corner of the street, the warehouses on the corners still smoldering. He looked at us doubtfully, cleared the way to our group, and when his astonishment at recognizing the President was over, galloped off for assistance, and in a few minutes a small squadron of mounted men in blue, came clattering to us. They cleared the street without ceremony, pushing and striking out right and left at the crowd. I do not remember seeing a white face amongst them. The negroes were willing enough to give way and were kept at a respectful distance, as we moved more rapidly under escort to the Confederacy "White House," in this instance a square brown unpretentious building, close to the Capitol. General Weitzel had established his headquarters there.

The President, with the Admiral, followed by me and Dr. McLean, entered the front door, and were ushered by some one into the room on the right, evidently the office or reception room of Mr. Davis. It was square and plainly furnished, an office desk over by the window opposite the door; a table against the wall, a few plain chairs scattered about and one large leather-covered, somewhat worn arm or easy chair near the desk. The walls were hung with prints and photographs of Confederate ironclads, and one of the famous Sumter, that I coveted greatly had looting been possible.

Mr. Lincoln walked over to the easy chair as his natural resting place and sunk down into it, worn out by the fatigue and excitements of the past hour; a few of us gathered about at the door. Little was said by any one. It was a supreme moment. The house of the fleeing President of the Confederacy, invaded after years of bloody contests for its possession, now occupied by Abraham Lincoln, seated in the chair - almost warm and bearing the imprint of the body of Jefferson Davis! What thoughts were coursing through the mind of this great man, who can tell? He did not live to relate his own impressions, but what he said remains forever in my memory - "I wonder if I could get a drink of water?"  He did not appeal to any particular person for it. I can see the tired look out of those kind blue eyes, over which the lids half drooped. I can hear his gentle soft voice. There was no triumph in his gesture or attitude. He lay back, crumpled up in the big chair, limp and awkward, a big tired man, seeking only rest and a drink of water. Very soon a large squadron of cavalry came noisily to the door. General Weitzel and General Shipley came in with other officers and the room filled. A frugal soldiers' lunch was served, a general conversation ensued, congratulations exchanged. Carriages were procured and under escort Mr. Lincoln was driven to places of interest about Richmond. I wandered with curiosity over the lower floor of the house, which was just as it was when Mr. Davis hurriedly fled from it. Then seeing a lot of soldiers, apparently looting the Capitol, I walked over to it. There was a scene of indescribable confusion. Bonds of the Confederate States of the denomination of $1,000 were scattered about, so numerous and worthless that no one seemed to care for them. I picked up several and put them in my pocket. Bundles of papers and documents littered the floors of the assembly chambers, chairs and desks upset, and every sign of indiscriminate looting. I tried to enter the State library, but a sentry was posted there; elsewhere free access was permitted to every one. No citizens were visible and the seat of government was invaded by soldiers bent upon plunder, or, gratifying as I was, their curiosity.

I returned to Mr. Davis' house and finally secured a rickety wagon, drove about the town and back to the landing place, where I found my gig surrounded by negroes, and quite used up, was glad to get back to the "Bat." Dropping down the stream I anchored near the "Malvern." Mr. Lincoln and Admiral Porter came down in an army tug boat, and the President remained on the "Malvern," off Rocketts that night. The following morning he had interviews with Judge Campbell, former Justice of the United States Supreme Court, and with other prominent citizens of Richmond, which have passed into history. With Porter's permission I descended the river and anchored off City Point.

There I found that Mrs. Lincoln had returned from Washington with a large party of guests, including Mr. Seward, Secretary of State, Senator Sumner, Mr. Colfax and others. Mr. Lincoln came down on the "Malvern" and joined Mrs. Lincoln on the "River Queen." I went on board as my duty called, and found a large party engaged at lunch in the after cabin. As I passed the door Mrs. Lincoln saw me, and shouted: "You Captain Barnes, get off this boat!" I passed on, but in a few minutes Captain Penrose came to me with the same request from Mrs. Lincoln. I told him to say to her in reply, that I was there in performance of my duty and would leave when it was done. This was simply to see that proper sentinels were posted, and as far as possible to prevent unauthorized persons to enter the "Queen." Although while the President was supposed to be under Military protection while she was fast to the wharf at City Point, no real means were taken to guard the vessel, and I considered that under, my orders from the Navy Department, I could be held to some responsibility in case of any ontoward event happening which endangered his safe conduct, so that the moment Mr. Lincoln left the "Malvern" and again took up his residence on the "Queen," I placed an officer and some armed men on board, and stationed them where they were within call. Before the lunch was over Mr. Sumner happened to remark to Mrs. Lincoln that he had heard that a beautiful young woman had saluted the President in Richmond the day before and presented him with a nosegay. Mrs. Lincoln resented his remark, saying: "How dare you, sir, say such a thing to me!" And the lunch party was made uncomfortable, as well as by her loudly expressed order to me. Poor woman! I think all made the proper allowances for her, and I know that Mr. Lincoln was saddened and did what he could to pacify her. I saw Mr. Lincoln for a moment that day, when he told me that he would certainly return to Washington within the next two days. On the 7th of April Mrs. Lincoln went to Richmond on the "River Queen" with her guests. Mr. Lincoln did not go - he had seen enough of the place. He passed the day with Admiral Porter, the "Queen" returning that night. News was received of Sheridan's victory over Lee's army, and that proposals for Lee's surrender were being negotiated by Lee and Grant. The war was over at last.

Notwithstanding the situation here and the impending surrender, plots were reported as rife in the Chesapeake Bay, which caused the authorities in Washington to have some concern for Mr. Lincoln's safety on his return in the "Queen." Admiral Porter, who had been criticized for his part in the exposure of the President during the trip to Richmond, realized the imprudence of it, and rather conscience stricken, deemed it necessary that unusual precautions should be taken. He summoned me to the "Malvern," and exhibited great concern for the President's safe conduct. As a result of his solicitude two officers and a squad of sailors were domiciled on the "Queen;" a careful inspection of her crew was made, their names and records taken, and minute instructions for guarding the person of the President were issued. The Admiral also desired that the "Queen" should be accompanied by additional vessels and with more ceremony, but the President was in haste to reach Washington. The "Queen" was very fast, and there was no vessel in the fleet that could begin to keep pace with her but the "Bat."

We left City Point on the morning of the 8th of April, stopped a few minutes at Fort Monroe for telegrams, mails and pilots, and flew up the Bay at top speed. While off the Fort I bade goodbye to Mr. Lincoln. It was the last time I saw him. He was just as kind and pleasant in manner to me as he had always been, was good enough to thank me for what little I had been able to do for his comfort, wished me good luck, and was in the haste of the moment, exceedingly cordial.

Mrs. Lincoln was ill and confined to her private apartments. I must say here, that throughout this experience, Mr. Lincoln's manner and bearing towards me had been more than kind, notwithstanding the unhappy portions of it. He treated me almost affectionately, several times taking me into his confidence, reading to me his telegrams from Mr. Stanton, writing before me and reading his replies. I heard him tell several anecdotes, witnessed his enjoyment of Admiral Porter's sea yarns, the salty flavor of which was new to him, but real Joe Miller stories to me. Short and exciting were the daily events of those days; my respect for him grew into most affectionate veneration.

I kept up with the "Queen" until we entered the Potomac, the Queen's skipper doing his level best to distance me. The "Bat's" boilers under high pressure had a trick of foaming on passing from salt into fresh or brackish water, so that the "Queen" got ahead of me and reached the 6th Street wharf some hours in advance of the "Bat." On going on board I found that the President had been met by his carriage and been driven to the White House. I reported at the Navy Department, saw Mr. Fox for a moment, and received verbal orders to return to Hampton Roads. This was on the 10th of April, the day following Lee's surrender to Grant.

I left Washington on the 11th, stopping at Point Lookout to visit my father, then in command of the district of St. Mary's, which included the camp for rebel prisoners of war, where his headquarters were established.

I had a most interesting visit to the camp. Many thousands of rebel prisoners were confined there. The intelligence of Lee's surrender, the capture of Richmond and the downfall of the Confederacy had just been announced to them, and the prisoners were wild with delight at the prospect of their release and return to their homes. My father, after taking me around the extensive enclosure, came on board the "Bat," much interested in seeing one of the best specimens of the British blockade running fleet.

He dined with me. We had a delightful reunion that evening, going over our several experiences, particularly my intercourse with Mr. Lincoln the past few weeks.

I could but see that my father was not in good health, suffering from the after effects of the "Chicohominy fever" contracted in the swamps of Virginia, and still lame from the wound received at the battle of Gettysburg, where he commanded the first division of the 5th army corps.

The next day I sailed for Hampton Roads. The weather was thick and stormy, and being my own pilot I deemed it prudent to anchor some thirty miles from Fort Monroe, and did not anchor there  until the 12th. Commander Rockendorf, the senior officer, informed me that he had received a telegram from Admiral Porter at City Point, that he would be down the next day, and to hold the "Bat" if she had returned from Washington, to take him to Washington immediately on his arrival.

He came on the 14th on the "Tristan Shady," also a fast little converted blockade runner, but concluded to go on with her. He was glad to know that Mr. Lincoln had reached Washington in good shape, said there was nothing more for the Navy to do but "Clar up decks," that he should give up active service afloat, seek rest, or shore duty at the Naval Academy, and promised his interest to get me duty there with him. He steamed off after a few hours stop, and left us there to twirl our thumbs and wonder "What next?"

Early on the morning of the 15th I was awakened by the orderly, saying that the flagship had hoisted her colors at half mast, and signals were flying for commanding officers to repair on board. It was an unusual hour for such a distress signal and so peremptory a summons, so I was sure that a serious occurrence must be the occasion of it. I dressed in haste and was soon on board the flagship. Commodore Rockendorf received me at the gangway. He made no reply to my anxious inquiry, but taking me by the arm, led me to his cabin, and there placed in my hands this telegram from Mr. Welles, Secretary of the Navy:

"President Lincoln was assassinated last night in Ford's theatre and is dead."

I read it over and over. It seemed as thought the dreadful fact could not find lodgment in my mind. I was shocked to dumbness, and when the realization of the meaning came to me, I am not ashamed to say that I gave way to the sorrow which overwhelmed me.

As may be imagined, my personal interest in this dire catastrophe was somewhat intensified by learning that my friend and partner, Henry Rathbone, and his step sister, Miss Clara Harris were in the box with Mr. and Mrs. Lincoln when the murder was accomplished, and Rathbone wounded by the assassin!


Admiral Porter fulfilled his promise. I was soon ordered to Washington, there detached, joined my family in Philadelphia, passed a few days in delightful idleness there and in Springfield, and on the ____ day of June was ordered to report to Commodore Blake for duty at the Naval Academy, then located at Newport, Rhode Island, but in process of removal back to Annapolis. Commodore Blake assigned me to the command of the School Ship "Marblehead", and I passed most of the summer in the sound and on the coast, and wound up the practice cruise at Annapolis in September. There delightful quarters were assigned me -- one of the row of double houses facing the Parade ground.

Admiral Porter was in command, Luce was Commandant of Midshipmen.   Breeze, Ramsay, Selfridge, Miller, Phythian, Meade, Phil Johnson, Wallace, Greene, Farquhar, Green, Stanton, Sicard, Mathews, Alec Crosman, W.W.W. Wood, were brought together and constituted the Academic board and officers and professors at the head of the various departments of instruction. With the exception of the Professors of French, Spanish and drawing, there were no civilians on the board, but there were a number of civilian assistant professors. Admiral Porter's aim was to have all the instructors regular Naval officers. Our life at the Academy was exceedingly pleasant. My duties ranged from assistant to the Commandant, to head of the Department of Ethics and English studies. I made one cruise in the School Ship "Savannah," an old time sailing frigate in the summer of '66, during which my son James was born. The Admiral maintained his repu-tation as a generous open house keeper. Mrs. Porter was foremost in the social life of the Academy; Governor Swan, living in the beautiful old Colonial house just outside the gate, was also profuse in his hospitality. I had much leisure time on my hands; wrote and published my book, "Submarine Warfare;" shot quail in the season; kept fine setter and pointer dogs; shot wild ducks in the winter; fished in the bay and river, and exhibited my prowess on skates; met a number of former Confederate Naval officers, amongst them Hunter Davidson who blew me up with his torpedo boat, and had a most amiable talk with him, disabusing his mind of the damage done us.

Speaking of torpedo boats recalls a serious disaster: The Admiral had the launch used by Cushing in destroying the "Albermarle" raised and brought to the Academy where she was overhauled, rigged as a miniature full-rigged ship, manned her with a lot of boys from the practice ships, and proposed to use her about the harbor, both as a practice ship and for pleasure trips. Engineer Hoyt had charge of her engine, and when she was ready the Admiral was to take a trial trip in her, and invited me with others - some ladies - to accompany him. I was about to join him, when we were startled by a tremendous explosion. Mr. Hoyt had thought best, after getting up steam, to take a short run from the upper wharf into the Severn, and had barely reached the middle of the river when the boilers burst and the little craft was blown to atoms, killing Mr. Hoyt and nearly everyone on board of her. Poor Mrs. Hoyt who lived next door to us, rushed to the riverside, and I had to take her sobbing and hysterical, to her desolate home - the hardest duty I ever performed. Thus was the former destructive machine "hoist by her own petard!"

Speaking of Cushing and his torpedo boat, I am led to relate my impressions of this remarkable young man, with whom I had an intimate, official and personal acquaintance while Fleet Captain of the North Atlantic Squadron. The first time I met him was in January, 1864, when he reported for duty in command of the “Monticello" and at once was sent to join the blockade off Wilmington. He had entered the Naval Academy from New York in 1857 - graduated in 1861 - seen some service, and was then twenty-one years of age. He was the brother of Captain Cushing, who in command of a light battery, had won fame and heroic death at the battle of Gettysburg, always a great grief to him, and incitement to reprisals and the seizure of every opportunity for personal revenge for his loss. Cushing was very youthful in appearance, beardless, with long blond hair, rather wild, staring blue eyes, medium height, abrupt in manner, impulsive and rather injudicious in speech, and deemed reckless in unnecessary exposures of himself and ship. Even then his reputation for audacity was great, as well as for general disregard for the ordinary rules of the service, and independence of movement and actions.

He had been only a few days on the blockade when, without consultation or orders, he projected a boat expedition up the Cape Fear river, passed the forts and landed at Smithville, passed the barracks containing one thousand men, entered General Herbert's tent, and finding the General absent, captured the Chief Engineer and brought him off, the only trophy of his daring adventure. Cushing was officially admonished that such private ventures were not approved, but unofficially, all of us applauded his pluck. Its only effect was that the rebels redoubled their vigilance to prevent a recurrence of future efforts which might give us really useful information.

Fox had written Lee that it was a pity that Cushing's undaunted bravery and good luck could not be put to some useful purpose, to which Lee replied that he had a good feeling for the youngster and didn't know what he could do now, and that he wondered that the enemy had not taken him and his boats, and returning in them, surprised and captured the "Monticello." Fox explained later that what he meant about Cushing, was while such a daring dash had not brought fruits equal to the risk, he believed they should be encouraged, although people might say Cushing was a damn fool, the Department didn't, and if he had succeeded in taking a prize they would have given him thirty numbers up.

Cushing proposed an expedition to capture the Confederate States ship "Raleigh," an iron-clad built at Wilmington, in a letter to the Department  full of daring, and wished to lead it. The Department approved of the plan, and encouraged such efforts if "well arranged and entrusted to good officers", implying that Cushing was somewhat injudicious.

Cushing's next exploit was ramming the "Peterhoff," a converted blockade runner, and sinking her. Following this, on the first day of July, he got himself into trouble by overhauling the English ship "Hound," bringing her Captain on board the "Monticello," examining his papers, detaining him unnecessarily and subjecting him to such treatment that complaint was made to the Government by the English Ambassador, and Cushing received a most stinging letter of rebuke, in which he was admonished to be more cautions, that such conduct could not fail in bringing upon him the serious displeasure of his Government, and result to his injury and regret; that while the Department recognized valor, it would punish when disapprobation and punishment were deserved. I have little doubt but that this lashing was more intended to assuage the threatened ire of the English, than to humiliate Cushing who, to tell the truth in talking over the matter with me, at some length, snapped his fingers and said he didn't care a copper for it. Indeed, it made no impression upon him nor influenced his conduct in the least.

Cushing's proposed attempt upon the "Raleigh"  having been encouraged, he asked that he be permitted to make a reconnaissance to determine her position. This was rather discountenanced - as we had information that the "Raleigh" had been wrecked inside and was no longer a factor in the defenses of the river. We also had at that time very full and complete information as to the forts, batteries and obstructions. Operations against them were in contemplation, and Admiral Lee thought that the reconnaissance would be of little value compared with the risks. We had quite a long talk upon the subject, and Cushing left, leaving the Admiral to suppose that his expedition was abandoned. Nevertheless, he started in one boat with fifteen men, passed over the Western bar, by the forts and up Cape Fear River, to within a few miles of Wilmington, landed in a marsh, and secreted his boat and crew along the bank. Steamers passed him, gun boats and fine blockade runners. That night he continued his explorations close to the town, making surveys of the obstructions. Hiding again in the swamps he crossed to the main post road between Fort Fisher and Wilmington, captured the mail carrier and his letters. Out of grub, he looted a store, securing ample provisions, destroyed the telegraph lines, seizing canoes and boats, he put his too numerous prisoners in them and set them adrift without oars - and started down the river - but first visited the wreck of the "Raleigh," almost wholly submerged. The story of his escape to the squadron is a romance. News of his presence in the river had reached the confederates, and every effort was made to prevent his escape. Numerous boats were manned and armed, at and about both entrances; at one time he was completely surrounded. The moon was bright and no less than nine boats opposed his passage, filled with soldiers. By incredible skill and good luck he managed to dash through and by them without loss, dashed into the breakers on the 'Caroline Shoals', where his pursuers dared not follow, and finally reached the "Cherokee" just at break of dawn, having been absent from the "Monticello" two days and three nights! This exploit, received of course the heartiest commendation, although unauthorized. Coming as it did, while Cushing was apparently under the condemnation of the Department for the "Hound" affair, the reflections of the Government upon Cushing written later, should be paralleled with their commendations for this most gallant affair.

The "Raleigh" being out of the way, Cushing next turned his attention to the "Albermarle," lying at Plymouth, and proposed to destroy her. He had frequently urged upon Admiral Lee to be permitted to attack her with torpedoes, but his ideas seemed so crude and the attempt so impracticable, that while recognizing his courage and good luck in all his adventures, we had contented ourselves with mentioning his ideas in our dispatches with small faith in his plans. However, the "Albermarle" was such a menace to our holding the sounds, and her destruction so desirable, that Mr. Fox, who was a hearty enthusiast as to Cushing's valor and luck, determined to give him a chance, and had Cushing ordered to Washington for a personal interview, detaching him from the "Monticello" at the end of July.

All through August Cushing was in New York, fitting two steam launches with the torpedo apparatus, invented by Chief Engineers Wood and Lay - crude enough in the light of more recent inventions - and finally appeared in Hampton Roads with his boat in October following, reporting to Admiral Porter who had relieved Lee a few days before, and ignoring the very full information given him by Lee of the Ram "Albermarle," her form, power and weaknesses, as well as the results of the fights with her, also Cushing's ideas of attacking her. He took up the subject as though the "Albermarle" was a subject never before considered. He sent Cushing to the Sounds, saying that he had no confidence in his success, but directing Captain McComb, in command there, to give him assistance and keep boats in readiness to pick him up in case of failure. He also gave McComb his ideas of how the "Albermarle" was to be attacked and asked for a description of her when her plans, armament, etc., were already in his possession.

It is hardly necessary to go into the detailed statement of Cushing's most gallant attack with his crude and untried implement of war. Everyone who has read the history of brave, individual endeavor in war, here and all over the world knows all about it: how he moved up the river past pickets, guard boats and forts - found his enemy protected by booms, soldiers and artillery, lighted up by bonfires on shore, was fired upon at close range, dashed into her at full speed, the torpedo extended, mounted the pen of logs protecting her, pulled the lanyard, exploding the torpedo fairly under the bows, and at the same moment receiving a shot crashing into his boat while the descending column of water thrown up by the torpedo explosion filled his launch, completely disabling her. Refusing to surrender, Cushing plunged into the stream and swam into the middle of the river. Most of his party were killed, captured or drowned. He and one other escaped, and after great hardship and passing through great perils in the water and swamps, reached a vessel of our fleet below, leaving the "Albermarle" a useless wreck at the bottom of the river! The exploit has few parallels in war's history.

The Navy Department, in its acknowledgement, ascribed to Cushing the exclusive credit for its conception and achievement, stating that his judgment and daring redounded to the credit of an officer only twenty-one years of age. President Lincoln recommended him to Congress for vote of thanks and promotion; a resolution to that effect was passed December 20, 1864. The newspapers here and abroad were filled with the accounts of the event and unbounded praise of Cushing. Chambers of Commerce united by resolutions in the chorus of unlimited adulation. Cushing was the hero of the day. Mr. Welles could not refrain from a little moral admonition, concluding his congratulations, by saying it was for Cushing to determine whether he should by careful study and self discipline, prepare himself for a wider sphere of usefulness.

Poor Cushing! His usefulness was over - Whether heredity, or the success and praise was the cause, the more or less previously pronounced peculiarities of his character increased, and after some slight further service, he became violently insane, had to be controlled, and he died in an asylum. Peace to the ashes of his turbulent, brave, restless spirit, and honor to the memory of the youth that knew no fear.

My personal contact with him was constant for the year he served in our squadron; we never met but that he had some daring scheme to propose; he was difficult of restraint, rather regardless of orders, in sight or out of it one never knew what he would attempt to do. He was sometimes troublesome in his unauthorized and independent activities, but for all that, his superiors never failed to admire, wonder, and wish that there were others like him.

I continued in my duties at the Naval Academy, serving in a variety of capacities - as an instructor in seamanship and Naval tactics, assistant to the commandant specially charged with the discipline of the school, Librarian, and finally Head of the Department of Ethics and English studies.

My father and mother and relations of my wife made us visits from time to time. Mrs. Hayes, my wife's mother made her home with us; as the daughter of Commodore Bainbridge of the War of 1812 fame, she was naturally the object of much interest and attention. My wife and I visited Washington, attending the impeachment trial of Mr. Johnson, also to hear Mr. Charles Dickens' readings, at one of which, a dog barking through the window, threw him and the audience into such paroxysms of laughter, that the reading was suspended for several minutes. Dickens relates the incident as the most amusing of all his reading experiences in America.

Henry Rathbone, then living in Washington with his stepfather, Senator Harris, also made us a visit, with his stepsister, Miss Clara Harris, during which they confided to us the then secret information of their engagement.

After making the practice cruise in the "Savannah," finding my family increased by the birth of my son James, and an approaching end to my tour of shore duty impending, I began again to look about me for some other employment, more remunerative, and not involving forced separations. I could not afford to give up a certainty, however small, for uncertainties. It seemed that to resume my law practice, after so long a separation from it, was unwise, and I cast about in many directions for a "rise" to my fly - fully determined if successful to again leave the Navy - for civil pursuits. My father's health had become precarious - suffering from his wound and that old swamp fever. He had been retired from the army with the rank of Major-General of Volunteers, and was absorbed in the care of his business interests in Springfield, when he was selected by the Government as one of the Railroad Commissioners, to examine and report upon the condition of the Union Pacific Railroad as constructed, to determine whether the company had complied with its contract sufficiently well, to authorize the issue of the Government 5 - 20's promised in aid of its construction. General Warren and a Mr. Blinkensdoffer were his associate commissioners, and my father accepted the appointment provided I could accompany him as an unpaid attache, or Secretary of the Commission.

I obtained the necessary leave of absence and made the journey in a special train, most luxuriously appointed, to the end of track then at Deep Run - a hundred miles or so beyond Cheyenne. It was a most interesting and valuable experience for me, during which through the minute examinations of road beds, machine shops, iron rails and fastenings, their quality and sizes, the station houses, bridges, grades, drainage, the plans and surveys, making memoranda, copying reports, and the constant interviews with contractors, superintendents of construction, keeping my eyes and ears wide open, I felt at the end of the month's experience, that I was a full-fledged, competent railroad engineer and builder.

Jack and Dan Casement were the contractors. I had met them before in Cleveland - small in stature, but active and amusing. They employed a host of men, pushed their track-laying with wonderful speed and system, in a race for extending the Union to meet the Central Pacific at a point as far West as possible, and thus secure the greater part of the Government subsidy.
It was there that I first met H.M. Hoxie, Superintendent of construction, whose widow - my wife's brother, Somers, married years later; this connection growing out of this casual meeting with Hoxie - who impressed me then with his blustering activity, here, there, and everywhere, sleepless and indefatigable. Going and returning our train was twice impeded and brought to a stop by herds of bisons. Long files of antelope ranged alongside the track or strung out over the distant slopes. The Sioux Indians were on the warpath, so that our safety was secured by a company of soldiers occupying the rear car of our train. At one place we were joined by the Pawnee squadron under Colonel North, armed with lances to which scalps were streaming.

At one deserted station we found the station master and his family murdered, mutilated. stuck full of arrows, while a band of Sioux were galloping about at a safe distance, drunken and with long streaming yards of calico attached to their ponies, the plunder of a wrecked freight train. Upon deploying our company they scampered off, disappearing in the distance.

My father's health was not improved by this journey, and on our arrival in New York, at the instance of Dr. George Humphreys,who was then engaged to my sister, Emily, Dr. John T. Metcalfe, a prominent physician was called in consultation. He had been a Cadet at West Point when my father was an officer there - and if you believed his own statement, rather an unruly one - and had been brought to book by my father in the course of discipline. He found my father suffering from the intermitting chills which used to cause him to say: "Well! whatever may be said of me, they can't say I am no great shakes of a man!" Dr. Metcalfe came to his bedside, cheerful and sunny as a May morning and saluted him: "Ah, General, I've got you now, and I'll pay you off for those reports you made of me!" and he examined him so gently, so kindly, was so cheerful, that my father said that his manner did him more good than his prescription. Here commenced an intimacy with the good doctor which lasted all his life and has continued since with his son and daughter, and our families up to the present time.


During the past few months I had several overtures made me for going into business, one from Mr. Abram Hewitt, who proposed that I should take a position in his Trenton Iron Works; another by Mr. Lord, who offered me a place on the Cincinnati, Hamilton and Dayton Railroad, which resulted in my declining both.

My sister Emilie's marriage with Dr. Humphreys took place; it was the last time my father was out of his room or bed, and he soon after succumbed and passed away most peacefully, with all of his children by his bedside, except my brother Will, then in California; a noble life well spent, leaving behind a most cherished memory. His business affairs were in some confusion. He left me with my dear mother, his executor, and gave me another reason for desiring to return to civil life.

Getting a leave of absence from the Academy, upon the plea of the necessity of looking after my father's affairs, I visited my sister Susie, Mrs. Henry M. Baker, then residing in Elizabeth, New Jersey, and there met Mr. John S. Kennedy, Mr. Baker's brother-in-law, a successful man of business, who had just severed his partnership with Mr. Morris K. Jesup, with whom his personal relations were decidedly unpleasant - so much so that personal contact was impossible in the adjustment of the partnership accounts of the firm in liquidation. Mr. Kennedy was ill, and a trip abroad was advised. Old Mr. Cornelius Baker, his father-in-law was ill at Mentone, and Mrs. Kennedy was anxious to join him. My smattering of legal knowledge appeared to impress Mr. Kennedy in discussions over his affairs with Baker and me, and resulted in his offering me a salary, and relegating to me the winding up of the affairs of the late firm of M.K. Jesup & Company. This offer I eagerly accepted. Mr. Kennedy left for Europe. Baker and I took an office in the Trinity Building, and under Powers-of-Attorney from Mr. Kennedy, I introduced myself to Mr. Jesup. This business and my father's estate matters, kept me busily employed. My salary, together with my leave-of-absence pay, and the income from my invested prize money was ample, so that when my leave expired, and I was ordered to the Brazil Squadron for duty on the flagship "Guerriere" - Commodore C.H. Davis - I was quite prepared to again resign my commission as Lieutenant-Commander, signed by Abraham Lincoln. A further leave was however granted me, on my stating that compliance with the order was impossible, but finally in February 1869, I sent in my formal resignation, which was accepted, and I was again a citizen. Meantime, my family was moved to Elizabeth, New Jersey, where I rented a small house, and I settled down to business, and for many years became a "Commuter" on the Jersey Central, getting up early, coming home late, running to catch trains and working steadily in my office, and often at home, until late at night.

In my very pleasant interviews with Mr. Jesup at the commencement of our relations, I found amongst the unsettled accounts, one with the firm of Quilter Ball & Co. of London, liquidators of the bankrupt Aberdare Iron Co. This firm had deposited with M.K. Jesup & Co. several hundred thousands of dollars of First Mortgage Bonds of the Texas and New Orleans Railroad Co. The bonds had been taken by the Aberdare Company in payment for iron rails, delivered in Texas just before the outbreak of the rebellion. Mr. Jesup considered them worthless, proposed that a charge for their keeping and the firm's services should be made, and Mr. Kennedy's account credited with his share of the charge. As no report or information as to the condition of this railroad was obtainable, I packed up my traps and went to Texas, to look the ground over. The only way to Texas was via New Orleans, Charles Morgan's railroad to Brashear City, and thence by steamer to Galveston. I found on arrival at Houston, that there were only fragments of the railroad in existence, broken by streams over which no bridges passed. The fragments were laid with rails on rotting ties; the roadbed overgrown with weeds and shrubs - in many places impassible through swamps; no cars or locomotives. Many of the iron rails delivered by the Aberdare Company had been seized by the Confederates, and used in their extemporized gun boats and batteries for armor plating, and a large portion had sloughed off into the Trinity river, undermined by floods. A carpet bagger named Barr had practically squatted upon what there was of a railroad, and with a hand car, mules and canoes, was running the mails with occasional passengers and light merchandise from Houston out to Sabine Pass, making the round trip about once a week. He did not have, nor claim any rights or authority. It was a simple private venture, and he readily assented to take me over the right of way, upon my paying the expenses of the trip. It was the toughest journey I ever made, occupied me a week in going as far as Beaumont where I gave up going further. The prairie country was absolutely unsettled. We passed several unburied bodies or skeletons of men; pushed, in canoes, through swamps alive with big alligators; saw flocks of wild turkeys and grouse and many herds of deer.

At Trinity river there was a small settlement, the houses mere shanties, and at Beaumont, a harder looking lot of citizens cannot be imagined, nor a community having a harder struggle for life. I believe I could have bought for a few dollars per acre, the whole of the vast prairies thereabouts, where have since been developed the valuable oil fields of Texas; the presence of oil at that time was not suspected. On our return to Houston, satisfied that as a railroad, the property in sight was of little worth, I examined the Charter, had a conference with Mr. Gentry, the nominal President of the company, and finding that the liberal land grant of lands owned by the State had nominally lapsed through failure to complete and operate the line within a prescribed period; still, if it could be revived or renewed, our bonds which were a lien upon the lands, might be valuable. It was furthermore the opinion of some lawyers, that as the lapse was caused by the rebellion, and that Texas had been an active party to it, the years of the civil war could not operate to deprive the company or its bondholders of its chartered rights, so that if the road should be built within a reasonable time the land-grant would hold good.

On my return to New York I made my report to Mr. Jesup, who expressed surprise and satisfaction at my journey and conclusions, and offered to pay my expenses, which I declined.

I went at once to the Cunard steamship office and bought my passage to London on the "Scotia," sailing the next morning early. I kept myself in my cabin until outside Sandy Hook, when going on deck I encountered Mr. Strang, Mr. Jesup's partner in his new firm, a pleasant, amiable gentleman, with whom I had agreeable relations. I surmised his, or no doubt he surmised my, errand. Our intercourse was agreeable throughout the voyage, without exchange of confidences.

On arrival at Queenstown very early on a Sunday morning, I bundled into the mail tug boat alongside, followed at the last moment by Mr. Strang. On reaching Cork, instead of going as he did to a hotel, and awaiting the regular night train to Dublin, I drove at once to the railroad station, where I was informed a special mail train was to be made up for Dublin, whence the mails were to be transshipped to Holyhead and London. By dint of persuasion, etc., I induced the station master to permit me to accompany the mail bags, and without stop was carried at seventy miles the hour to Dublin. Taking the steamer to Holyhead I was in London that night, and the next morning at an early business hour, I gained entrance to the presence of Mr. Quilter by sending in my card and a short note, explaining my errand. Mr. Quilter was a short, stout irascible Scotchman, afflicted with gout, his swollen foot resting on a stool. I recalled the Texas and New Orleans bonds business; stated the present relations of the former partners; gave him a verbal and written report of my trip to Texas, and after a discussion of the situation in all its bearings, came to the real object of my call, which was of course that the bonds be turned over to the keeping of Mr. Kennedy as his agent. Mr. Quilter assented, and directed me to write a cable message to Mr. Jesup, requesting the transfer of the bonds to Mr. Kennedy. This cable was sent, and I was preparing to leave, when Mr. Strang's card was placed in Mr. Quilter's hands. I had previously told him that Mr. Strang had crossed with me, probably on the same business. Mr. Quilter told me to go up a spiral stairway, leading to offices above his private room, saying: "You can hear what I shall say to him." I did so. Mr. Quilter greeted Mr. Strang cordially, as he presented his credentials, looked them over, and said: "Oh! you have come over about those Aberdare bonds; why, I have just ordered your firm to turn them over to my friend, John Kennedy, to whose direction I originally gave them." Some further conversation ensued Mr. Quilter saying that he had already seen a Mr. Barnes, representing Kennedy, and Strang withdrew. I go into the details of this, my first essay in a business matter of importance, because as "there is a destiny in our ways, rough hew them as we may," the results of it formed the foundation of my future business career, not unsuccessful.

I returned home immediately, having been absent in all about three weeks. The bonds were transferred to Mr. Kennedy; the entire issue were subsequently acquired by him through purchases made by me at very nominal prices. Mr. Hayes, my brother-in-law, was employed to go to Texas and take charge as Receiver of the road. Foreclosure proceedings were instituted, legislation renewing the land-grant obtained, and finally I sold all the bonds to Governor E.D. Morgan and a Syndicate for so good a price, that from what was thought a worthless, turned out one of the most valuable of the Aberdare Company's assetts, while Mr. Kennedy's profit on the outside bonds bought for his account, was very large.

Mr. Kennedy's idea of my usefulness to him was soon after my return expressed, by his tendering me a partnership in a new firm to be formed of J.S. Kennedy & Company, in which he should furnish the capital, retaining one half interest, the other half to be divided, one quarter to his and my brother-in-law, Baker, and the other one-quarter to me. Kennedy also offered me a handsome sum for my services which I declined. The partnership seemed the "ultima thule" of my ambition. I bought - what to me, with my very reasonable ideas - was a beautiful residence in Elizabeth, on North Broad Street, and for upwards of twelve years, lived there, where all the other children were born and brought up - busy, travelling all over the country on business connected with the firm's affairs, and living a happy, contented and prosperous life.

Of course, the Texas and New Orleans Railroad occupied my special attention, taking me frequently to Texas. I also became the General Manager of the Cedar Falls & Minnesota Railroad, of which Mr. Kennedy was President, built the greater part of the road, negotiated its lease to the Dubuque & Sioux City, in its turn leased to the Illinois Central Railway. These railways, through the leases, became valuable properties, adding largely to the fortunes of Kennedy, James Roosevelt, Willis James, George Forrest and Charles Frost, their principal owners. Railroad building enterprises in those days were financed by the issue of bonds for the entire cost and dividing the stock as a bonus or profit. Seldom was a penny paid for it. My frequent trips to Texas brought me into contact with the Texans, who owned, controlled and were building the Houston & Texas Central Railroad; House, Rice (afterwards murdered by Patrick), Baker, and other notable men, identified with the state awakening from the stupor following the war. They had enlisted the interest and financial aid of Messrs. Phelps, Dodge & Co., of New York, and Mr. William E. Dodge was largely interested in the enterprise. I sold to the Railway Co., five thousand tons of English Rails, to be delivered at Galveston, taking payment in their first mortgage, 7 percent Land-grant Bonds. There were no railways in Texas then except the road between Galveston and Houston and the Texas Central line to Bremond, but projected and under construction to Austin and northward without precise objective.

In pursuit of legislation, I visited Austin, met Governor Edmund J. Davis, and was encouraged by him to seek Capitalists interests in the construction of a grand International Railway, which should transverse the State from Arkansas to Mexico. To such a railway he promised his influence, to have the State grant a subsidy of $10,000 per mile in five percent State bonds. A Texan, one General James W. Barnes, had already taken the project in hand, and with him I had constant intercourse on the subject, brought him with me to New York, introduced him to Mr. Kennedy who quickly interested a number of Capitalists in the enterprise: Mr. Dodge, Mr. James, Mr. Roosevelt, Mr. Moses Taylor, Spofford Teleston & Company and Henry G. Marquand, the latter then engaged in financing the Cairo & Fulton Railroad, now the Iron Mountain Railway, part of the Missouri Pacific System.

I drew up the proposed charter of the International Railway myself without assistance of lawyers, just as it is today, went again to Texas, and at Austin, after a hard fight with the opposing interests of the Missouri, Kansas & Texas Railway and Texas people, which cost our friends much money in hard cash, secured the passage of the Act incorporating the International Railway of Texas, with a subsidy of $10,000 per mile in State bonds. A picture of the Texas Legislature of that period, composed of negroes, carpet baggers and impecunious natives, all openly demanding pay for their favor, and votes, their exaggerated ideas of northern capitalists, and their want of any possible moral views upon the questions involved in legislation desired for their profitable exploitations, would be interesting, if not edifying. Such men as Mr. Flannigan, the "what are we here for Senator", Mr. Parsons implicated in the Chicago riot and murders and executed there, with a number of men utterly without civic virtue, were the leaders, orators, and heads of legislative cliques which controlled the representatives and senate. All of them bargained and put a price upon their favor of any bill before them, not secretly but as a matter of course, and a bill for giving a subsidy to a lot of rich Northerners without their share in what they euphoniously called the "Chicken Pie", was simply ridiculous.

I was staggered by the openly made demands, which, justified by their previous experiences, seemed to them perfectly reasonable, pure and honest, while to me, unused to such things, I was disgusted when my arguments as to the great benefit to the State and its citizens, the philanthropic efforts of my noble friends, in taking such risks in forcing an iron pathway through the vast unsettled wilderness, and other glittering generalities of like nature, would be laughed at. Old General Barnes - no relative, I am happy to say - figured extensively in lobby, committee rooms, taverns and grog shops. He was furnished with a few hundred dollars for expenses; spent it liberally in treating, ran up bills when his money gave out, and would have exhausted the treasury of the nation in promises, had the noble army of legislators accepted them. They knew him of old; he was one of them, kindly disposed towards ex-confederates like himself without a surplus dollar to his credit any where. They all derided his promises, carpet baggers and negroes as well, but would take a small percentage of his promises in hard cash. The Speaker of the House - a carpet bagger, but the only really honest man I knew - Ira H. Evans, kept me pretty well posted as to the conditions, which he deplored, but could see no way out of. He was a bright, clever, and a remarkably good parliamentarian, ruling as disorderly heterogenious a crowd as were ever assembled in the guise of statesmen.

Used up by the heat, the exciting rows and fights, I abandoned the job, returned to New York, and my place was taken by a gentleman when I made my report to the associates, [who said] that he knew those people and how to deal with them, and he did. The charter was granted at last, and if the books of that company are accessible, they would show a charge to "Charter Privileges" which might require explanation if submitted to the modern inquisitions.

The company was formed, bonds and stock issued, and I was elected President of the Company, and for the next year or two, passed much of my time in Texas. Remembering the activities of Mr. Hoxie on the Union Pacific Railroad, and learning from General Granville Dodge that Hoxie was out of employment, I telegraphed him, offering him the superintendence of the International Railroad if Texas was not too hot a country for him. He replied briefly that it was not too hot for him, and I appointed him General Superintendent.

My brother-in-law, Somers Hayes, still running the disjointed Texas & New Orleans road, then under the control of Mr. Morgan's syndicate, I selected as the first assistant engineer, under a Mr. Evans, who was recommended by General Dodge as one of his best locating engineers on the Union Pacific. I also, with the approval of the Directors, let a contract to the firm of Reynolds & Brown, for the building of the first fifty miles as it should be located. I had known them as the contractors for the Cedar Falls & Minnesota road. They had a large plant "in being", and at once started it through Kansas to Texas, for some objective not decided upon, and with Evans and Hoxie I was soon in Texas.

We fixed upon Hearne, a cluster of a half dozen shanties, as the intersection of our road with the Houston & Texas Central. Evans & Hayes started on the location, the Contractors plant, and gangs of workmen arrived like an army of invasion; work commenced and the fifty miles was completed to Palestine within the time prescribed by our charter, was inspected by a commission appointed by the Governor, was reported upon favorably as to its quality. I had the coveted Texas Bonds engraved and printed by the American Bank Note Company in form approved by Governor Davis, and went with them to Austin, handed them over to him - $500,000 of them - for his signature. This he promptly gave, and the precious lot was sent by him to the Comptroller of the State to be countersigned. The Comptroller and the Governor were at odds over political questions, and he with equal promptness utterly refused his countersign, alleging that the issue was illegal and void, having been procured through corruption and bribery and other wickedness, issuing a most scathing pronunciamento against the governor, the company and everybody connected with the enterprise. Of course, we never received the bonds, but the legislature, possibly with some qualms of conscience, later substituted a grant of State Lands, in place of the bonds, which many years later proved more valuable than the original subsidy. The road passed through many tribulations before completion - foreclosures, receiverships, reorganizations.

I got out of it as President, my brother-in-law becoming successively Receiver and President.  It was merged with the Great Northern, becoming the International and Great Northern Railway. Honorable Galusha Grow was President of the Great Northern Railway, employed by his intimate friend, William Walter Phelps, who with Mr. William E. Dodge, Sr., were the principal promoters of that enterprise, and both roads finally became merged in the Missouri Pacific system by Mr. Jay Gould, who bought us all out, "hook, bob and sinker," but employed Hayes, Hoxie and Dr. Smith, as Vice-President, General Superintendent and Treasurer of his entire South Western system, they all moving to St. Louis, where Mr. and Mrs. Hoxie opened a house, and all of them lived together there very comfortably for some years.

The business of J.S. Kennedy and Company increased by leaps and bounds. Our small office was exchanged to a larger one. We transacted a banking and foreign exchange business, generally based upon Railway affairs, dealt in bonds, stocks and loans. We imported large amounts of new and old rails, selling the new to railroads; the old doubleheaded rails to our own manufacturers to be worked over. Our importation of Bessemer and Scotch pig iron were also large and profitable. We took on a number of agencies: The Bowling Steel Company, The Cambria Iron Company, The West Moreland Iron Company, The Scottish-American Investment Company, and others. Our London Correspondents were Robert Benson & Company. Mr. Kennedy was an active director in banking and managing railway companies, and I, also, in several, including the Rome, Watertown & Ogdensburg, the Central R.R. of New Jersey, the Lehigh & Wilkes-barre Coal Company, the St. Louis, Alton & Terre Haute Railway Co., in which Mr. Samuel Tilden was the leading man, and with whom I had pleasant, and for me, profitable lessons in railroad and corporation law and practice. We were principals in the management of several railroad re-organizations, and besides those attending the re-organizations of the International & Great Northern Railroad, managed several foreclosure suits, and I think I acquired a fair reputation, not only as a business man, but as a Railroad lawyer. Indeed, it was owing more to the smattering of law gained before the war in Albany, rather than my attainments as a Naval officer, that I owed my reputation and success, although my education at Annapolis played its share.

In a suit by the liquidators of the celebrated bankrupt Glasgow Bank in which we had been their agents, Mr. Kennedy, as will be seen in the printed testimony-- preserved by me - as a witness testified regarding some disputed point, that the course adopted was advised by me, whom he "considered as good a railroad lawyer as could be found in the city." This may not be a particularly modest quotation, but the quotation is correct if the fact is dubious, and when my testimony was asked, I had to assert my regular admission to the bar as an attorney and Counsellor-at-Law.

During this period I made a number of trips to Europe on business, always short but full of rest and pleasure. Mr. Kennedy's health, at no time very robust, called him away frequently for short rests abroad with his family in Edinburgh and Glasgow, where invariably he took on some new business for the firm. Mr. Baker ran the office detail, oversaw the books, attended to the exchange business, bank loans and accounts, and with able bookkeepers the internal machine ran smoothly and accurately; while I had charge of the general correspondence, the negotiations and outside work. We made money and some losses, but on the whole the business was very profitable, so that at the end of each year I found my capital account credited with a considerable profit which accumulated to a sum far beyond my expectations. My father's death, and later, my dear mother's, also placed a considerable patrimony in my possession, so that I felt myself pretty well off, and for those days, I might have been justly called a "wealthy-male-factor," and retired at my ease; indeed, I should have been satisfied to do so had it been possible. The material things constituting a comfortable, if not a luxurious life, I had. I owned my pretty residence in Elizabeth, bought additional land there, increased the size of the house, built a stable, had horses and dogs. My children - increased in number to six -  had all possible advantages of education. I bought a farm in Vermont, remodelled the little farmhouse upon it; I had few and short vacations which I passed there, fishing Coldbrook and the trout streams in the region; joined the Carrolls Island ducking Club, shot birds at odd times when West on business, worked hard early and late in my office; commenced making the collection of Naval and Marine memorabilia, which has become the joy and pleasure of my present life. As I review those days and years, now that my activities have come to an end, filled as they were with labor, anxieties and responsibilities, compensated for most amply, I can truly say that fortune was kind to me, and my life at home and outside of it a very happy one.

The panic of 1871-2, however, worked some disastrous changes. Robert Benson & Company, our London correspondents failed. We had sight and 30-days bills out, drawn on them for a large sum, nearly a million dollars. Mr. Kennedy was recuperating in Switzerland. Duncan Sherman & Company failed, owing us large amounts, as agents for one of our foreign clients, so that Baker and I were put to it to maintain our credit. somewhat shaken by Robert Benson's failure. Owing to Mr. Kennedy's most energetic work in England whither he went, revived as he always was, by any real emergency, and a free and unlimited use of the contents of his personal strong box, we tided over the emergency with flying colors, but I found, on making up our balance sheet, and re-valuation of our assets, that my capital account was sadly reduced, and my visions of independence somewhat dimmed. All our bills of exchange were not only met at maturity, but Mr. Kennedy advertised in London, that the sixty-day bills would be paid at sight by Messrs. Glynn, Mills and Curry. Our account with Duncan Sherman & Company was settled by Mr. Alexander Duncan of London, who came to the temporary relief of his son's firm, and we were once more on our feet with increased business pouring in upon us from all quarters; some of it became the absorbing interest of our career. On Mr. Kennedy's return he, for reasons best known to himself, became dissatisfied with his brother-in-law, Mr. Baker, which brought about unpleasant relations, and Mr. Baker retired from the firm. A new firm was created, consisting of Mr. Kennedy and myself, share and share alike for the new business. Kennedy offered to make the name Kennedy & Barnes, but the former firm name was so well known, that I declined the honor of my name being so prominent, and always have regretted it.

At about that time there came to us, with letters of introduction, a tall, handsome courtly gentleman named Wilmar, a Belgian, speaking little English and that badly, so that my equally indifferent French was useful in our interviews. He came as the representative of a banking firm in Amsterdam, who had bought from the Litchfield Brothers, and sold to their clients, a series of mortgage bonds of the St. Paul & Pacific Railroad in process of construction in Minnesota. The bonds had been sold in advance of construction; the proceeds wasted, the road only partly built, in disjointed fragments, the coupons unpaid for more than a year, and Lippman, Rosenthal & Co., the Amsterdam Bankers, had formed a committee of bond-holders, received deposits of their clients' bonds, of which they were the managers, issued Committee's Certificates against the deposit of bonds, and employed Mr. Wilmar to go to America and see what could be done. Mr. Wilmar had been largely instrumental in negotiating the bonds for the Litchfield Brothers, who now, the owners of all the stock issue of the Company, were directing its affairs, a Mr. Becker being their agent and nominal President of the Company at St. Paul.

Of course I had to go there in company with Mr. Wilmar, and after some mishaps through which Mr. Wilmar got into the wrong train at the passing point where supper was served, and was carried back to Chicago to his great consternation. He joined me the following day at St. Paul in a bewildered state of mind.

I put myself at once into communication with Mr. Becker, Mr. Litchfield's agent and President of the Company, and for a week or more endeavored to get all possible information regarding the actual condition of the property. Nothing could be more deplorable for the bond-holding interests.

There were a few miles running out from St. Paul, spasmodically operated to a village called Litchfield. A short piece ran northerly to no place; most of the iron rails sent out by Litchfield from England, bought with bond-holders money, had been appropriated and sold by Litchfield to the then bankrupt firm of Jay Cook & Co., and used in the building of the Northern Pacific. The road was hardly earning the expenses of its intermittent operation. The contractors for the grading - miles of which, half constructed, stretched out over bald, desolate and uninhabited prairies -  were unpaid and were suing the bankrupt company in the local courts. There was practically no property in sight which the bond-holders could look for any fractional return for their investment except the value of the large land-grant, only partly earned, pledged for their security. Foreclosure of the mortgages, re-organization, receiverships, raising large sums for the completion, seemed the only and inevitable course. Even the land-grant was thought to have lapsed and been forfeited, by the lawyers I consulted.

Old Mr. Wilmar, I found, had an interest in the contractors' claims, through a son, a settler on a large tract near the end of the finished line, where a little village named Wilmar was established. We met DeGraff and Colonel Crook, the contractors. Mr. Wilmar had an idea that the money should be raised to pay their claims, and with a new contract, the construction should go on, under the existing regime, he to secure from the Dutch Committee such postponement of their claims, or abatement, as would enable the money needed to be secured by a preferment on the road built and to be built. This idea was instigated by the advice of Becker and his lawyers, representing the Litchfields’ interests in the stock and also holding a large line of second mortgage bonds wholly owned by Litchfield, which he had caused to be issued to himself, for no consideration whatever. I returned to New York, leaving Wilmar in St. Paul. Following my report and upon consulting with Lippman, Rosenthal & Co., proceedings in foreclosure of all the mortgages were commenced, resisted at every point by the Litchfields. We succeeded in having a Mr. J.P. Farley appointed Reciever by Judge Dillon, obtained authority for the issue of Receivers' debentures, the proceeds to be applied to construction of important links. We obtained legislation by which the land-grant was kept alive, and for more than a year were plunged in law suits and work which entirely absorbed my attention, almost to the exclusion of other business. Mr. Litchfield finding that a decree of foreclosure and sale was impending, opened negotiations for a settlement of his claims as Stockholder, proposing some modification of the plan of Re-organization we had in view, and in furtherance of it offered to turn the management and control over to us. This was done and I was appointed the President of the Company, went to St. Paul and took possession of Mr. Becker's office. Mr. Wilmar had retired, indignant that his views had not obtained, and we heard no more of him. His contractors' attachments and suits were set aside or abandoned; another plan of re-organization was under consideration, but when Mr. Litchfield's claims were formalized they were so preposterous that we rejected them in toto. Pending their negotiations, the foreclosure suits, instituted by the several trustees, under the different mortgages, deeds of trust were held up, but the agreement, under which I had been made President of the Company, had a stipulation that in case we did not come to an agreement with Litchfield, the management of the road should be restored to Mr. Becker. I was prepared to do so, and go ahead with the foreclosure suits, when acting under a clause in the mortgage deeds, the trustees demanded possession of the property, and Mr. Farley, the Receiver, without consulting me, turned the property over to the trustees, who took possession of the offices and records of the company. As Mr. Kennedy was one of the trustees, having been appointed to fill a vacancy by the bond-holders represented by our firm, at a meeting regularly called at which Mr. Baker and myself alone were present; the chairman, and I the bond-holders, under our Power-of Attorney from the Dutch Committee, also as the actual holder of the bonds which were all in our possession in our vaults,  the company was in the legal and actual possession of Mr. Kennedy, Trustee, and his partner, myself, as President. Mr. Litchfield naturally complained, called it "a trick," and otherwise expressed himself, but submitted to the rather singular proceeding, and the foreclosure suits were resumed and went on with resistance, delays and the resort to every expedient to postpone the final decree.

When I went to St. Paul, as President of the Company and took possession of the office, I appointed Mr. Farley, then Receiver, also the General Manager. Going one day to the terminus of the operated road, between the village of Litchfield and St. Paul - there was no station house, the trains being unloaded and receiving freight on the open wharf, I found a gang of laborers shifting freight from the cars to a steamboat, and heading them a man who seemed to me particularly bright, active and a leader. He was dressed in a woolen shirt, had a letterpad upon which he checked the packages and barrels handled, occasionally lending a hand. I asked Farley who that man was; he called out "Jim, come here, I want to introduce you to our new President", and I then and there became acquainted with Mr. James J. Hill. He had a contract with Mr. Becker for transferring freight. Hill explained his contract, said he was making a little money out of it, as well as from a contract for supplying his St. Paul customers with fire wood, cut and delivered on the cars at Litchfield. His real business was a coal and wood dealer. He offered at once to give up his contracts if I wished it, expressed the hope that the St. Paul and Pacific road would go ahead and complete its lines, and generally impressed me favorably as a stirring, energetic individual of the better sort. Farley told me more about him - what a pushing, driving, busy sort of a fellow he was, ready to do anything that came in his way; that he had been a pioneer in the northwestern part of the state, a mail carrier, was interested with Mr. Kittson, agent of the Hudson Bay Company in trading with the settlers and Indians, in the Red River of the North country, and Manitoba, adding some further statements of his general usefulness.

On one of my subsequent visits I again came in contact with him. The Princess Louise, daughter of Queen Victoria, came to St. Paul with the purpose of reaching Winnipeg, then an advanced settlement of the British Provinces, to hunt the game then so abundant. She was a devoted sportswoman, had fished for salmon, and hunted for moose and deer in the Province of Quebec, and under the auspices of Donald A. Smith, the manager of the Hudson Bay Company, was determined to see the wild regions in Manitoba. She was accompanied by the Duke of New Castle, Lord Elphenstone, Colonel McNeal of the British Army, Mr. Donald A. Smith and George Stephen of Montreal. Mr. Kittson was consulted; he took into his confidences, his intimate friend, Mr. Hill.

A train was made up, consisting of our best cars, which took the entire party to the nearest point, on our completed road, to the Manitoba line, whence they proceeded under the guidance of Mr. Kittson and Mr. Hill - who knew the country thoroughly - to their destination. During that trip Mr. Hill succeeded in impressing upon Mr. George Stephen and Mr. Donald A. Smith the prospective value of the St. Paul and Pacific Railroad, the enormous value of the vast unsettled country in Minnesota, if immigration could be directed to it, as a wheat-growing country - the ultimate value of the liberal land-grant - also the very nominal prices then ruling on the Amsterdam Exchange for the mortgage bonds of all denominations, as represented by the committee's certificates.

On the return of the party to St. Paul, there was with us a visitor, Mr. Johan Carp, a member of the Dutch Committee, a bright, clever young man, sent to us as a special representative of Messrs. Lippman, Rosenthal, with the request that he be permitted to inspect the property, and generally to advise with us as to the condition of the business and its prospects. He was thoroughly posted as to the Amsterdam Market, the prices of the several issues of bonds, as well as to the general feeling of discontent and desire of the bond holders' committee to close up the business and turn it over to some others, to work out its future; in other words the committee were anxious to sell out their holdings ‘en bloc'  if any responsible party or company could be found to purchase their holdings. Indeed, for some months, this desire on their part had been made known to us, and some overtures and negotiations had taken place with the Chicago, Milwaukee & St. Paul, and the Chicago and Northwestern people looking to such a transfer of the bonds, but they had come to nothing definite. Mr. Carp, it seemed, had this object specially in mind as the principal object of his visit to America.

After several interviews with Mr. Hill and Mr. Stephen, who remained in St. Paul while the Princess Louise and her retinue continued on their journey east, at which Mr. Farley and Mr. Carp were usually present; Mr. Hill, basing his figures upon Carp's statement of the market prices of committee's certificates, made a cash offer for all the bonds in the committee's holdings on an average of 3 to 5 percent higher than the then market or Exchange quotation. This offer, signed by Hill and Kittson, was simply marked "Approved, George Stephen and Donald A. Smith." Hill and Kittson were well known to be without means or credit. Mr. Stephen was President, or rather chairman of the Board of Managers of the Bank of Montreal, and supposed to be a capitalist; Mr. Smith as agent of the Hudson Bay Company, was thought to be a man of large means, and had a high reputation. Besides his influential position in the Bank of Montreal, Mr. Stephen had gained some influential consideration from the fact that his adopted daughter had married Mr. Harry Northcote, the eldest son of Sir Stafford Northcote, then Chancellor of the British Exchequer, a relationship which was not without weight, in the value ascribed to his endorsement of the offer of Messrs. Hill & Kittson, in the estimation of Mr. Carp, as well as his apparent intimacy and connection with Royalty in the presence of the Princess and the noblemen of her train.

A long cable message was concocted by Mr. Carp and myself, sent to our New York office for transmission to Amsterdam, conveying the terms of the offer. I communicated with Mr. Kennedy and left at once for New York with Mr. Carp. On arrival, I found there a return message from Messrs. Lippman, Rosenthal, in effect that if we approved, and the offer was genuine, from thoroughly responsible parties, they were disposed to accept it, and that the offer should be formally drawn, under legal advice, signed by Mr. Stephen and Mr. Smith as principals, together with a number of other requirements suggested by the astute minds of Lippman & Rosenthal, which if followed would make of us practically the guarantors of any contract. I remember the cable as the longest and most costly of any I had ever known.

Amongst them, we were requested to inform ourselves and the committee as to the personal and pecuniary responsibility of the parties making the offer. As no precise information was obtainable in New York I went to Montreal and passed several days. Mr. Stephen had called Mr. Hill there. I made inquiries, and so far as I could learn, Mr. Stephen who was a drygoods, or woolen merchant, personally had no means beyond his salary in the Bank of Montreal. His commercial business was embarrassed owing to ventures in the Picton Coal Mines, but his store or warehouse was in evidence, still a going concern, doing a profitable business. He was an exceedingly pleasant man, of fine appearance, rather distinguished manners, jovial and greatly esteemed, a Scotchman from Aberdeen, bold in enterprises and proficient in business affairs, notwithstanding the unfortunate condition of his Picton mining interests. He was very popular in Montreal, and his reputation for fair dealing most excellent. Mr. Donald A. Smith, also a Scot, stood very high in the community, not as a capitalist or man of large means, but as a man of the highest personal character, and of the first order in his business capacity. Of course I knew that Hill and Kittson - beyond Hill's individual force and energy - amounted to nothing in the matter of financial strength, and probably had not a dollar to spare from the result of their daily work, which afforded them only a modest livelihood. I think I also was impressed by Mr. Stephen's high connections abroad and his probable influence in the Bank, and possible backing from that institution and his numerous friends, while his and Mr. Smith's personality had a great and favorable effect upon me. Mr. Hill privately assured me that behind Mr. Stephen stood an array of capitalists who could, and would surely stand by him in this venture.

At all events, a formal contract was made for the purchase of the Dutch Committee's bonds, signed by Stephen, Smith, Hill, Kittson and by myself, for J.S. Kennedy & Company as agents, subject to ratification by the Dutch Committee, and with it I returned to New York, after a really delightful visit. This contract was transmitted to Amsterdam and ratified by the Dutch Committee, and in due course of mail returned in triplicate, and thereafter our intercourse with Stephen and associates became close and intimate; Mr. Kennedy especially forming a close intimate friendship for his brother Scots, Mr. Stephen and Mr. Smith.

By the terms of the agreement, payment for the bonds at the prices stipulated, was to be made within two months from its date, with interest, either in Sterling Exchange on London at New York, or in Sterling in London, the total sum being about $1,250,000. The bonds themselves had been sent to us, as agents for the committee and were deposited in a special vault, to be delivered to the associates upon payment.

As the time approached for this, it became apparent that Stephen, upon whom the task of raising the money rested entirely, was unable to do it on this side of the water. We were anxious that it should be done, and helped all in our power. The times were unpropitious for all new railroad enterprises. Many defaults had occurred and were occurring. The money market everywhere was disturbed, rates of interest high. The reputation of our securities abroad, as well as that of our railroad financial men, was not favorable. The schemes of Jay Gould Fish; the failure of Jay Cook & Co., still hung about with an unsavory odor. There was never a more unfortunate time to launch such an enterprise, while the disastrous St. Paul & Pacific bond matter had made the railway itself a notoriety amongst financial circles at home and abroad. In this plight, Mr. Stephen came to us, announcing his inability to raise the money, and asked that I go to London, see some of his friends there, explain the situation, describe the present condition of the property, its prospects, the country through which it ran, and was projected, the land grant, etc., etc. He thought I was the only one thoroughly enough informed to do this satisfactorily. There was no time to lose, and furnished with proper letters of introduction to various banking houses in London, and personal friends of Mr. Stephen, I sailed from New York, and in due time was in London, presented my letters and did my best to enlist the interest of several banking houses in Mr. Stephen's scheme, which was - avoiding details - the practical pledge of the Dutch Committee's bonds and the sale contract, for the advance of the money required for the first payment due in London within the next thirty days. I was also authorized to offer a share in the result of the contract.

I interviewed Morton Rose & Company, the Barings, Glynn, Mills & Curry companies, and met a number of bankers interested in American investments. Sir John Rose, an intimate of Mr. Stephen, during a long talk over the matter exclaimed: "What! George Stephen, expects to raise 250,000 pounds? Why, he hasn't 1000 pounds to his name. It is impossible for him to raise a shilling upon such a scheme." Old Mr. Russel Sturges of Baring's, also, but in a dignified way rejected it. There was no encouragement anywhere, and I abandoned all hope for it, and returned to New York, after a short trip to Amsterdam, where I endeavored to secure a postponed date of settlement from the committee, on the score of the prevailing disturbed money conditions in New York and London. Lippman, Rosenthal & Co., were very considerate, but could promise nothing, felt that they must stand to the agreed payment and evidently counted upon the powerful aid of the Sir Stafford Northcote influence, actually of no possible account, but an idea which I did not think it proper to disabuse their minds of. Indeed, I had met Sir Stafford, residing in Government house. He was in utter ignorance of his son's father-in-law's circumstances and projects. Harry Northcote was then the private secretary of Lord Beaconsfield, a fact well known to the Amsterdam people, and also contributed to their confidence.

On my return home the impossibility of raising the sum required became a fixed fact. During this time we had been busy in forming a scheme of reorganization of the St. Paul & Pacific Railway, to be put in operation after decree of foreclosure, sale, and purchase for account of the bond holders, who were to be George Stephen and associates. It provided for the issue of new bonds and stock, the former of course to be sold, and the proceeds devoted to the cost of the Dutch bonds. The outlines of this plan I had of course shown to and explained to the London bankers, with additional offers of participation if they would make the necessary advances. The time for the first payments came and passed. The Dutch committee were indignant at the failure, declared the agreement void, and directed us by cable to commence suit against Mr. Stephen and associates for damages for a large amount. We succeeded in pacifying them for the time, knowing full well that a suit for damages would be useless.

I do not wish to take any special or undue amount of credit to myself, but as this affair had, to a great extent, been my personal charge, nearly all the negotiations, correspondence and contact with both parties having been conducted by me, I took hold of a new reorganization plan, rewrote and newly modeled it into the form in which it now stands, and was, after some months of negotiation, during which I made repeated visits to Amsterdam, accepted by the Dutch committee.

This plan provided for the payment of an increased price for each of the several issues, in the first mortgage 7 percent  land grant sinking fund bonds, with a bonus of 7 percent preferred stock; the issue to also provide payment for the Receivers' debentures outstanding, of which Lippman & Rosenthal held a large amount, all the expenses incurred by them, our commissions and charges, the lawyers' and trustees' fees and the estimated cost of a settlement with the Litchfields, which would enable us at once to secure our decree and carry out the reorganization of a new company, to be called the St. Paul, Minneapolis & Manitoba Railway Company. Although I consulted with and discussed with Mr. Kennedy and Mr. Stephen, the various provisions of this plan, I can truthfully assert that nearly every line of it and the entire scheme was drawn by, and generally originated from, me. Mr. Kennedy had little belief that it would be acceptable to the Dutchmen; Mr. Stephen also doubted it. Neither Mr. Hill, Mr. Kittson nor Mr. Smith were consulted, nor so far as I know had anything to say or do about it. When it was perfected and after some revision as to the technicalities by a Mr. Scott, a lawyer of Mr. Kennedy's, who had from time to time been employed in some of the phases of the litigations in which we were involved, I went to Amsterdam, had long interviews with Messrs. Lippman & Rosenthal and with the committee, explaining its features, and urging its acceptance.

Lippman, Rosenthal & Co., who on account of the committee, had advanced large sums for the expenses attending the litigation, had taken a large part of the Receivers' debentures, were tired of the business and anxious to be relieved from further commitments, and being fully advised of the situation, urged the acceptance of the plan, which was finally with a few changes, accepted and formally executed by the committee. I should here state that throughout this business, from the beginning to the end, this firm impressed me most favorably from every point of view - shrewd and clever in business, generous and appreciative of our work, devoted in their efforts for their clients, having a proper regard for their responsibility in having bought out the disastrous loans of the Litchfields, and placing the bonds on the Amsterdam market. To them personally, I owe much for their uniform, cordial receptions and kindnesses and attentions, both in a business way and socially. I dined, lunched and passed many very delightful evenings with each partner, in their magnificently furnished and decorated residences in the Herringstrasse. Mrs. Rosenthal was a charming, exceedingly handsome, intelligent woman, presiding with dignity and grace over a household and family, remarkable for elegance and refinement. She had that indescribable manner which placed me at once as amongst friends; informed herself of all my antecedents, my family, my wife, my children, their names and ages; appeared interested in my previous naval career, asked many questions regarding the civil war and my connection with it, showing an intimacy with the war events that surprised me. She interdicted talks on business in her presence; corrected - laughingly - my errors in French; showed and described to me the very beautiful and valuable collection of the paintings of the old Dutch and Flemish artists; the magnificent collection of Oriental and Delft porcelains and priceless bric-a-brac with which her house was filled. She offered me the free use of her carriage, often sending it to me at my hotel with a note, placing it at my disposal for the day. Altogether, she made of my frequent visits to Amsterdam - outside of my business hours - a delightful sojourn, and I retain of her the most charming recollection.

The business methods prevailing in Amsterdam were peculiar. The Banking offices were placed in large, commodious buildings, in the rear of their residences, reached by a special corridor or passage from their residences, reached by a special corridor or passage from their fronts, the facades of which were simple brick without ornamentation. Business was conducted on the Exchange during the forenoons, after which the men returned to their residences and offices, attended to their correspondence and closed up the business initiated on the Exchange. This system gave me my forenoons to myself. A room and desk was placed at my disposal at Lippman & Rosenthal's office, where I wrote my letters and dispatched my cables, the latter being frequent and costly, while long letters were sent to my firm on the business matters entrusted to me.

I found time, however, to visit the picture galleries, the Zoological Garden, the diamond polishing works, the old book shops, notably that of Frederik Muller & Son, where I found numerous, rare and interesting memorabilia connected with early American history and discovery - commencing, or rather adding to the important collection now owned by me. Of course I visited the Hague, and made short trips to Dortrecht, Rotterdam and Antwerp, during the several visits in those years - lasting from one to several weeks each - and although on business bent, I had always at Amsterdam, a truly delightful time, increased of course by the uniform successful results of the business part.

I returned home with the assented agreement which gave intense satisfaction to all concerned, all the more because of the doubts held by Mr. Kennedy and Mr. Stephen as to its acceptance. Matters now progressed rapidly. Negotiations with Litchfield were reopened, ending in promising to pay him the sum of $250,000 for all his stock and second mortgage bonds, upon the reorganization of the company. Decrees of foreclosure and sale under all the mortgage deeds were entered by consent, and on the 28th day of April, with Mr. Stephen, I went to St. Paul, taking with me, packed in a valise, almost the entire issue of the $2,800,000 issue of bonds upon the Branch line, and on the 10th of May, 1879, the only bidder, I bought at public auction on the Court House steps, the railroad and property covered by these bonds for the sum of $200,000, paying in cash into the hands of the sheriff, the sum of $25,000, for which, and expenses I drew at sight upon my firm. I bought the property in the names of George Stephen, Donald Smith, James J. Hill, Norman Kittson and John S. Barnes. The Court allowed $17,436 [?] for expenses, chargeable to this mortgage. Altogether, I drew upon J.S. Kennedy & Company upwards of $50,000, with which I settled all claims of trustees, lawyers, sheriffs fees for every and all services connected with this mortgage, presented to the court and received our distributive shares of proceeds of sale as bond holders, thus closing to a point all matters connected with the "Branch Line”, leaving the branch in the ownership of the purchasers, absolutely free from all incumberances and debts to outside parties, save to the very few bond holders whose bonds had not been deposited with the Dutch committee. As to these, nearly all, except a few held by unknown parties, had been bought at very nominal prices by my firm on joint account with Mr. Stephen during the course of the proceedings. I remained in St. Paul, busily occupied in these details, throughout that month. The St. Paul, Minneapolis and Manitoba Railway Company was organized on the 23rd of May; George Stephen, President, Norman Kittson, Vice-President, James J. Hill, General Manager, Mr. Sawyer, Secretary & Treasurer. Its capital stock was fixed at $15,000,000, of which five shares each was issued to Mr. Stephen and associates, and the balance 19,965 shares to me, as trustee; only $2,000,000 being issued at this time - $13,000,000 to be issued upon the acquisition of the entire line, after sales under the other mortgage deeds. The stock issued to me as trustee was to be held until the payments to the Dutch committee were completed. The future purchases under the other mortgages, were to be made by the St. Paul, Minneapolis, and Manitoba Railway Company. All these and other points were covered by a formal agreement.

In due course, the programme as arranged, was carried out, and the entire line of railroad, as projected and constructed, of the former St. Paul and Pacific, with its great land-grant, passed into the possession of the St. Paul, Minneapolis & Manitoba Railway Company, and upon this property was duly issued $5,000,000 of seven-percent land-grant sinking fund bonds, of which about $2,500,000 went to the Dutch bond holders, the balance of the issue being sold and the proceeds used in payment of the expenses of the previous proceedings, the Receivers' debentures, and the advances made by the firm of J.S. Kennedy & Co., which on July 1, 1879 amounted to $116,121,148  [?] , including interest at seven-percent, for which our notes were held by the Bank of Montreal. The Bonds and preferred stock due the Dutch committee, having been transmitted to them, and the agreement in all respects fulfilled and full and satisfactory settlements made with Lippman, Rosenthal & Co., and the committee, the total stock [of] $15,000,000 was distributed; $3,000,000 each to Mr. Smith, Mr. Hill, and Mr. Kittson, and $6,000,000 to Mr. Stephen, he to take and hold for the time being, one-fifth  of the two-fifths coming to him, for account of J.S. Kennedy and Company, an agreement to that effect having been made by him with us, and covered by the original articles of the agreement between George Stephen, Norman Kittson, James J. Hill and Donald A. Smith.

The seven-percent preferred stock issue, small in amount, was an embarrassment, and all desired to withdraw and cancel it; few of the Dutch bond holders had elected to take the part of their pay in this stock under the option given by the agreement. Although there remained in the Treasury, about one million of the seven-percent Land-grant bonds, new money was needed to prosecute construction as proposed by the active Mr. Hill, now the manager in fact, as in name, and his schemes were hindered by this preferred stock, which had some additional security by some of the provisions attending its issue, which might possibly be construed as preventing a legal and desired issue of second mortgage bonds.

Again I left New York for Amsterdam, with the purpose of inducing the preferred stock holders there to accept, in lieu of their stock, the seven-percent Land-grant bonds, or failing in this, to buy their stock outright for cash at the best price obtainable. I picked up young Oliver Northcote (who later married Miss Edith Fish of New York) in London, and at Mr. Stephen's request, took him with me to Holland - a quiet, gentlemanly youth of no possible use or service beyond the prestige of his name. Lippman, Rosenthal & Co., apparently greatly pleased at the termination of their and our mutual labors, received me most cordially. The seven-percent bonds and the pre-ferred stock had been distributed to their clients and their advances and expenses paid; they held a contingent account open against a settlement with J.S. Kennedy & Company for our services, for which we had made claim of $100,000 - quite moderate we thought - but which I settled readily for $80,000. The fact that we were or would be interested in the future manage-ment of the company, was very agreeable to them, and had been one of the reasons - so they alleged - that had caused the committee to accept the second argument. I did not of course go into any particulars regarding our interest with Mr. Stephen, but they knew that we had come under large advances, like themselves, and congratulated me upon the outcome. I then brought up the real object of my coming, the substitution of bonds for the preferred stock, or its purchase, representing the necessity of new capital, and the obstacle of the preferred stock. They fell in with my views, offered their good services, and after consultation with others, consented to put an advertisement in the finance column of the principal newspaper in Holland, explaining the offer and advising its acceptance; the matter to pass through their office as a regular piece of business, for which of course they were to be compensated. The result was successful, for in due time all of the preferred stock was retired. My mission thus accomplished, I took a short holiday, visited Paris, and spent a few days in London, where I was entertained at dinner by Harry Northcote and others. Mrs. Northcote, Mr. Stephen's daughter by adoption, was a charming, enthusiastic woman; young, pretty and graceful; her house small, but prettily furnished. I gave her Mr. Stephen's message, that if all went well she should "set up her brougham." At the dinner the gentlemen waited on the table; there were no servants visible, and after dinner all sat on rugs, including the ladies, smoking cigarettes. There were several titled men and women present, and the evening was the most "free and easy" one that I had ever been a guest at - full of fun, personalities, anecdotes and games, during which my repertoire of anecdotes of Yankee flavor was in request.

I went to Edinburgh and Glasgow to see Mr. Kennedy's relatives - his father and brothers - also his brother-in-law, Mr. Todd, the father of a numerous family, who had a small tobacco shop in Glasgow, with a gorgeous wooden Highlander taking a wooden pinch of snuff from a wooden 'mull', keeping guard at the door. The worthy gentleman served me with a cigar, and remonstrated at my extravagance at paying a six pence for it, when a "thripenny" one was just as `gude.' Mr. Kennedy's father was a "Conveyancer". All were in very moderate circumstances, and I gathered that John S. was the real head of the family, whom they looked upon with grateful awe. Mr. Walter Kennedy kept a stationery shop, was very bright and cheery. From him, our firm had, for some time, purchased our office stationery in block - very excellent it was too, but not cheap. I also visited Mr. Menzies, our correspondent, as agent for the Scottish-American Investment Company, in which our firm was a stock holder, and was a very successful going concern; met at a lunch at the Edinburgh Club, all the directors of the company, including Sir George Warrender, a wealthy Scot, very bumptious and overbearing, got into rather a heated argument with him over the merits of some investments made by him and the company, during which he made so bold and untruthful statements, that I felt called upon to politely question their accuracy. The others remained dumb, and it was evident that Sir George was too big a gun for them to stand against. They were very subservient, but Menzies and another remarked to me later that they all knew he was wrong in his assertions, and that I was not to mind him - it was his way. However, Sir George's frothiness subsided, and he invited me to visit him and dine at his magnificent country place in Morning Side, where I was taken all over one of the best specimens of a very old ancestral house - park, gardens and stables - to be found in Scotland, and had a very pleasant visit with his charming daughters, both admirable horsewomen, who took me through the stables, and showed the paces under the saddle of their favorites.

On my return to New York Mr. Kennedy was absent. He had attended the last foreclosure sale at St. Paul, and had there bought in the name of the St. Paul, Minneapolis & Manitoba Railway Co., the last fragment of the old road, completing the title to the entire line, and had made the present journey to attend to some details connected with the purchases, and some law suits commenced by a certain Sahlyard et al., outside holders of bonds not embraced in the Dutch committee's holdings, and who were dissatisfied with their small distributive share in the net proceeds of the sales under foreclosure suits of the mortgages, in which Mr. Kennedy had been substituted as Trustee. The suits were against him personally, as well as against George Stephen and associates, charging constructive fraudulent collusion, in that he, Kennedy, was interested as a co-partner with George Stephen as a purchaser, being a Trustee. The plaintiffs asked for injunctions, resale and other relief. Edmund Rice of St. Paul, a former Trustee, also commenced suit, in behalf of himself and other bond holders similarly situated, alleging similar complaints and asking similar relief. Of course, the object of the suits was to so embarrass matters, as to compel the purchase of these few outstanding bonds, at prices that the holders demanded - no less than par and interest. Of all the “outstanding” bonds, we had already acquired possession, except the few now held by the plaintiffs in these suits, either by direct purchase, on joint account, or by fresh adhesions to the Dutch committee's holdings since the signing of the sale agreement of March 13, 1878.

It being the fact that of the total issues of bonds of all classes by the St. Paul & Pacific Railroad Company amounting to $28,000,000, there were less than $300,000 outstanding and not controlled and owned by the associates.

Mr. Kennedy was much disturbed mentally, and as a result, physically, by these suits, not allayed by advice of prominent lawyers in St. Paul and New York who were consulted, that it was not `de facto' illegal for a mortgage trustee to be a holder of bonds under a mortgage in which he was a Trustee; that a Trustee with an avowed interest was compatible with the law, nor did the earnest statement of Mr. Stephen, that if it should be necessary, or desired, we would satisfy the suits by paying in full the price demanded. He seemed to think his personal and business integrity had been attacked and dwelt upon the phrase "Constructive fraudulent collusion" as an insult, and was deeply concerned, going to St. Paul to give his personal attention to the suits.

Meantime, indeed before this phase of the business developed, the new bonds for the Dutchmen were despatched to Amsterdam, and the provision for payments to them completed, leaving in the Treasury of the Company, a large surplus of these bonds, which were sold to a syndicate under a subscription contract. The preferred stock being retired, an issue of $8,000,000, Second Mortgage Bonds was made. Under Mr. Hill's energetic lead, construction progressed rapidly. Emigration, largely from Norway and Sweden flowed into Minnesota; the enormous tracts of land belonging to the company advanced rapidly in value. Settlements and town sites were laid out, business on the railroad increased to such extent, that the prospects of the company grew brighter with every mile of track laid during the first six months of the reorganized company's life. At the latter part of the year 1879, the situation of the enterprise was this:

The St. Paul, Minneapolis & Manitoba Railway had been extended -  its fragments connected - and was in full operation, throughout its originally contemplated length, from the proceeds of sale of surplus seven percent bonds and new bonds issued at the rate of $12,000 per mile as per agreement with the Dutch plan upon new road.

The $8,000,000 Second Mortgage Bonds were divided as profit, $1,000,000 to each associate, reserving $3,000,000 for subsequent disposition. The entire $15,000,000 of capital stock was divided, 28,000 to each associate, 10,000 shares being given to Messrs. Angus, Smithers & Watson, Agents of the Bank of Montreal in consideration of their services.

Thus, without ever advancing a penny, without the payment or risk of a dollar, Messrs. Hill, Stephen, Kittson and Smith, received at one fell swoop, each of them, $3,800,000 and J.S. Kennedy & Company who had practically financed the enterprise - their obligations all repaid with interest-  received a similar sum in stock and bonds, and thus were born the great fortunes of the men which have become famous!

I remember my sensations at this reward for all our labors, as dividing our stock and bonds in the proportion agreed between Mr. Kennedy and myself in our Articles of Co-partnership, as to this particular and specified interest, which was in the proportion of our former partnership agreement. I tucked the bonds and certificates of stock into our respective vaults at the Safe Deposit Company; I was tolerably well off before this dividend was declared. Our business apart from this venture had been very profitable; an important sum stood to the credit of my capital account; I felt ready to retire from business altogether.

The only disturbing elements were those Sahlyard & Rice suits, which annoyed and disturbed us, particularly Mr. Kennedy. In the late fall he went to St. Paul on business connected with them and other matters, returning much upset by occurrences there. Our contract with Stephen he destroyed, declaring that we should consider that it had never been made.

I objected to the act, or his conclusion. Mr. Stephen was called in and asserted that, contract or no contract, he considered himself our Trustee for our one-fifth interest, and upon Mr. Kennedy's insistence and Mr. Stephen's acquiescence, I turned back to him our share of bonds and stocks already in our possession, on Mr. Stephen's assurance that he had or would make such arrangements regarding them, that if anything happened to him, our property in them would be provided for. It is needless to go into the details of events, which produced a rupture of Kennedy's and my relations as partners and friends, growing out of this affair. My refusal to accept his views and the contrariety of testimony given by each of us under the interrogatories addressed to each by the court in the suits at St. Paul - our intercourse became strained and our views so different that separation was inevitable, and desired on both sides, and by mutual assent was severed in February, 1880, I starting in business on my own account, while Mr. Kennedy formed a new firm, composed of his nephew, J. Kennedy Todd and young Ollie Northcote. Our firm business was promptly settled, leaving out entirely our interests in the St. Paul, Minneapolis and Manitoba Railway, which each of us was free to settle with Mr. Stephen as an individual affair on the basis of our Articles of Co-partnership: five-eighths to Mr. Kennedy and three-eighths to me. Many negotiations followed, the result of which was that I sold out my entire interest to Mr. Kennedy for a sum in cash, and withdrew from all further business connections with the Railway and its owners. The Sahlyard & Rice suits were so adjusted that judgments in favor of the defendants were rendered, thus freeing Mr. Kennedy's mind; in fact the plaintiffs were paid the full amount of their bonds and interest, as had been proposed; the slight cloud upon the proceedings were cleared away and all was serene, except that old Mr. Farley instituted a suit against Mr. Hill personally, claiming that he had a joint interest in his share of the profits, in which he was nonsuited on the score that as a Court officer, Receiver, he had no right to make such a contract with the purchasers at the foreclosure sale.

This suit developed some interesting conditions, which an examination of the court records would show to any one curious in such matters. Of course my testimony was called for, but as this affair is not pertinent to my story, I drop it.

The future conduct of the affairs of the Railway now rested almost wholly upon Mr. Hill, who pushed construction, issued millions of new securities, bonds and stocks, and finally crossed the continent with his railroads and became the "Railway King" of the West, with a fortune which must reach much over the $100,000,000 limit.

The old bankrupt St. Paul & Pacific Railway, changed to the St. Paul, Minneapolis & Manitoba Railway, again absorbed with its numerous branches and extensions into the Great Northern Railway, capitalized at nearly $500,000,000, manipulated and owned by a few individuals, who in the vast financial deals, connected with the control, and management of competing and connecting companies and landed properties, is a notable example, in its way, how out of nothing the world was created. I am not far out of the way, when I assert with some confidence, that the millions of stock issues of the Great Northern Railway, has not cost its principal owners a penny, nor has the railway itself received into its treasury a penny from its stock issue. The original issue of $15,000,000 divided as profit sold later on at $368.00 per share [!], the premium representing extra stock and cash dividends. The original seven-percent bonds were all retired long before maturity through proceeds of sales of only a part of the land-grant, while the $8,000,000 second mortgage bonds divided as profit, after selling at 130 percent have come due and been paid, and four percent consolidated bonds now constitute the funded debt to the amount of $250,000,000. It is doubtful if the cost of the entire line with its equipment equals that sum.

Truly, "Tall oaks from little acorns grow!" However, hospitals, museums, eleemosynary institutions, churches and colleges, come in at last and share in these profits; the money goes back to the people through them and sometimes spendthrift heirs; the men and their works are forgotten, and the world moves on.

Mr. George Stephen, with Mr. Smith, launched out into the Canadian Pacific enterprise, much against the advice and wishes of Kennedy and Hill, who took little or no part in it, as rather conflicting with the extended Manitoba projects. They worked it out under the paternal government of Canada to a successful end, were knighted by the British government, and again raised to the Peerage under the titles of Lord Mount Stephen and Lord Strathcona, abandoned Canada as their homes and took up their residences in England. Old Mr. Kittson, who from first to last, was a silent and utterly useless partner of Mr. Hill, overcome by his sudden accession of wealth, branched off into horse breeding, racing and wilder schemes, died later on, leaving several separate and contesting families for his estate, and his interests were acquired by Mr. Hill.

Mr. Kennedy continued for thirty years in close connection with all Mr. Hill's great enterprises, and his great fortune recently distributed to charitable public institutions and relatives, had its principal source from the operations of the business herein sketched and his intimate association in all Mr. Hill's projects and enterprises.

I have dwelt upon this Railway venture at some length, and somewhat exclusively so far as my business career is concerned: first, because it was the principal event of it and from which I derived the major portion of my fortune, such as it is; secondly, because it is an exposition of the methods, ways and conditions existing at the time, by which large, individual fortunes have been accumulated in the manipulations of corporate properties.

That four unknown and - so to speak - penniless men, all foreigners (if Canadians are such), should within the space of two or three years, without the payment or investment of a dollar or risk of any sort, except that of possible failure of success, been converted into multi millionaires, seems incredible. They had nothing to lose; everything was gain. Hill saw his opportunity and eagerly embraced it, bringing to his aid men nearly as poor as himself, whom accidental circumstances threw in his way, and rapidly grew out of his humble occupations, and without previous education, training or experience, soon reached the very top of the ladder, as a practical Railroad builder and expert, known all over the business world.

While we have another and similar example of individual effort and attending results, in the career of the late Mr. Harriman, as well as in those of a number of the immensely rich men and families whose fortunes are marvelous in extent and methods of acquirement, I believe that none of them are more wonderful than those of the five men herein named, nor so easily traced to their immediate source.

I naturally carried with me, on separation from Kennedy, considerable business with which I had been particularly concerned. I had ample capital and many friends. I bought a seat on the stock exchange, but rarely visited the floor, confining my business to bond investments, not stock speculations.

I bought a house in New York City, 22 East 48th Street, where we resided for twenty-five years. It was during this year that our great grief came to us, in the death of our eldest child and daughter, Susie, who died suddenly at New London, Connecticut on the 26 day of August 1881, where we were passing the summer months.

My father's death was followed by that of my dear mother, who had passed away after a brief illness in Springfield, on the __  day of  _____   1879.

For some years we had passed our summers at our little mountain home "Coldbrooke," in Vermont. In 1881, after making a winter visit to Lenox with my wife, we bought a farm there, and built our present summer home, naming it after our little Vermont place. There we have lived during the summer months ever since, and there all our children have grown up to manhood and womanhood, and our lives have passed with great domestic happiness ever since, going there in the early summer, and returning to the city in the late autumn.

There also our daughter Edith was married to Mr. S. Warren Sturgis, of Boston and Groton, and her three charming children cause us to renew our youth. To Edith I have given our Vermont farm, where she is going through the same happy experiences with her little ones that we have with ours.

With the family we visited Europe in 1890-1, and with that exception our mutual lives have rolled on without break or incident, alternating between town and country.

I gradually withdrew from active business, although keeping an office downtown for some years, during which I was uniformly successful in various undertakings which were not absorbing or demanding great labor or attention on my part, giving me ample time at my command for indulging my taste for sports and out-of-door exercises and amusements; shooting in the South and West; fishing in Canada; riding, golfing, and having what may be called a good time generally; free from care, or the anxieties of money grubbers in Wall Street, and with a wholesome pity for men who keep at it, never satisfied with enough, but stretching out for more for the mere satisfaction of an appetite for a gain that they have no use for, and has to be left when their time comes, to be scattered, and oft times squandered by others.

In my present dwelling in New York, we are all living together, except Edith who resides in Groton, happily married, and fulfilling with eagerness and enthusiasm the duties of a wife to one of the Head Masters of the Groton School.

In building our house, completed October 1903, we made provision for the comfortable housing of my four unmarried children; they are all busily engaged in their social and eleemosynary work, but we are a united and happy family, always company for each other, with mutual hopes and wishes, and as my life draws to a close, I have little to complain of and few regrets.

The world has treated me kindly, and is beautiful in all its aspects, but I shall not be sorry to leave it, as most of my old friends have done and are doing almost daily.

Another generation is rapidly coming to the front, to work out their own fortunes under new systems, new laws, while wonderful inventions, discoveries and new ideas in religion, governmental policies and intricate social problems perplex the thinkers of the old school, and one wonders what will be the status of the world fifty years hence, and are unable to form any opinion about it.

One thing strikes me clear, that the new laws and government policies in regard to corporate management will forbid, and make impossible hereafter, such railroad exploitations as I have only sketched, and the sudden accumulations of vast fortunes, which owe their source to the issue of securities, which of comparatively small value at first, increase in value with the development of the country with such amazing personal results. Still, as an offset it may be true, that for every dollar of personal gain the country at large has benefitted ten fold, from the personal work of the few fortunate and able minds who have been the instruments of progress.