As I Remember Part 6

John Jacob Astor's numerous descendants can lay this "flattering unction" to their souls, that every dollar of his vast wealth was acc.u.mulated through thrift while leading an upright life.

An old-fas.h.i.+oned stage coach in my early days ran between New York and Harlem, but the fas.h.i.+onable drive was on the west side of the city along what was then called the "Bloomingdale Road." Many fas.h.i.+onable New Yorkers owned and occupied handsome country seats along this route, and closed their city homes for a period during the heated term. I recall with pleasure the home of the Prussian Consul General and Mrs. John William Schmidt, and especially their attractive daughters. Mr. Schmidt, who came to this country as a bachelor, married Miss Eliza Ann Bache of New York. Quite a number of years subsequent to this event, before they had children of their own, they adopted a little girl whom they named Julia and whom I knew very well in my early girlhood. As equestrian exercise was popular in New York at that time, many of the young men and women riding on the Bloomingdale Road would stop at the Schmidts'

hospitable home, rest their horses and enjoy a pleasing half-hour's conversation with the daughters of the household. Among the fair riders was Mary Tallmadge, a famous beauty and a daughter of General James Tallmadge. During her early life and at a period when visits abroad were few and far between, her father accompanied her to Europe. During her travels on the continent she visited St. Petersburg, where her beauty created a great sensation. While there the Emperor Nicholas I. presented her with a handsome India shawl. She returned to America, married Philip S. Van Rensselaer, a son of the old Patroon, and lived for many years on Was.h.i.+ngton Square in New York.

Alexander Hamilton and family also owned and occupied a house in this charming suburb called "The Grange." It was subsequently occupied by Herman Thorne, who had married Miss Jane Mary Jauncey, a wealthy heiress of New York. He lived in this house only a few years when he went with his wife to reside in Paris during the reign of Louis Philippe. Mr.

Thorne became the most prominent American resident there and excited the envy of many of his countrymen by his lavish expenditure of money.

His daughters made foreign matrimonial alliances. He was originally from Schenectady, for a time was a purser in the U.S. Navy, and was remarkable for his handsome presence and courtly bearing.

Jacob Lorillard lived in a handsome house in Manhattanville, a short distance from the Bloomingdale Road. He began life, first as an apprentice and then as a proprietor, in the tanning and hide business, and his tannery was on Pearl Street. He then, with his brothers, embarked in the manufacture and sale of snuff and tobacco, in which, as is well known, he ama.s.sed an immense fortune. My earliest recollection of the family is in the days of its great prosperity. One of Mr.

Lorillard's daughters, Julia, who married Daniel Edgar, I knew very well, and I recall a visit I once made her in her beautiful home, where I also attended her wedding a few years later. At this time her mother was a widow, and shortly after the marriage the place was sold to the Catholic order of the _Sacre Coeur_. Mrs. Jacob Lorillard was a daughter of the Rev. Doctor Johann Christoff Kunze, professor of Oriental Languages in Columbia College.

Many years ago the wags of London exhausted their wits in fittingly characterizing and ridiculing the numerous equipages of a London manufacturer of snuff and tobacco. One couplet suggestive of the manner in which this vast wealth was acquired, was

Who would have thought it That Noses had bought it.

The suitor of the daughter of this wealthy Englishman was appropriately dubbed "Up to Snuff." Alas, this ancestral and aristocratic luxury of snuff departed many years ago, but succeeding generations have been "up to snuff" in many other ways. The gold snuff-box frequently studded with gems which I remember so well in days gone by and especially at the home Gouverneur Kemble in Cold Spring, where it was pa.s.sed around and freely used by both men and women, now commands no respect except as an ancestral curio. Dryden, Dean Swift, Pope, Addison, Lord Chesterfield, Dr. Johnson, Garrick, Sir Joshua Reynolds, Keats, Charles Lamb, Gibbon, Walter Scott and Darwin were among the prominent wors.h.i.+pers of the snuff-box and its contents, while some of them indulged in the habit to the degree of intemperance. In describing his manner of using the snuff-box Gibbon wrote: "I drew my snuff-box, rapped it, took snuff twice, and continued my discourse in my usual att.i.tude of my body bent forwards, and my fore-finger stretched out;" and Boswell wrote in its praise:

Oh, snuff! our fas.h.i.+onable end and aim-- Strasburgh, Rappe, Dutch, Scotch--whate'er thy name!

Powder celestial! quintessence divine New joys entrance my soul while thou art mine; Who takes? who takes thee not? Where'er I range I smell thy sweets from Pall Mall to the 'Change.

While the spirit of patriotism was as prevalent in early New York as it is now, it seems to me that it was somewhat less demonstrative. The 4th of July, however, was antic.i.p.ated by the youngsters of the day with the greatest eagerness and pleasure. It was the habit of my father, for many years, to take us children early in the morning to the City Hall to attend the official observances of the day, an experience which we naturally regarded as a great privilege. Booths were temporarily erected all along the pavement in front of the City Hall, where substantial food was displayed and sold to the crowds collected to a.s.sist in celebrating the day. About noon several military companies arrived upon the scene and took their positions in the park, where, after a number of interesting maneuvers, a salute was fired which was terrifying to my youthful nerves. Small boys, then as now, provided themselves with pistols, and human life was occasionally sacrificed to patriotic ardor, although I never remember hearing of cases of lockjaw resulting from such accidents, as is so frequently the case at present. Firecrackers and torpedoes were then in vogue, but skyrockets and more elaborate fireworks had not then come into general use. I do not recall that the national flag was especially prominent upon the "glorious fourth," and it is my impression that this insignia of patriotism was not universally displayed upon patriotic occasions until the Civil War.

The musical world of New York lay dormant until about the year 1825, when Dominick Lynch, much to the delight of the cultivated cla.s.ses, introduced the Italian Opera. Through his instrumentality Madame Malibran, her father, Signor Garcia, and her brother, Manuel Garcia, who by the way died abroad in 1906, nearly ninety-nine years of age, came to this country and remained for quite a period. I have heard many sad traditions regarding Malibran, whose name is certainly immortal in the annals of the musical world. Mr. Lynch was the social leader of his day in New York, was aesthetic in his tastes, and possessed a highly cultivated voice. He frequently sang the beautiful old ballads so much in vogue at that period. I have heard through Mrs. Samuel L. Hinckley, an old friend of mine, who remembered the incident, that during a visit to Boston when he sang Tom Moore's pathetic ballad, "Oft in the Stilly Night," there was scarcely a dry eye in the room. In referring to the introduction of the Italian Opera into this country Dr. John W. Francis in his "Old New York" thus speaks of Dominick Lynch: "For this advantageous accession to the resources of mental gratification, we were indebted to the taste and refinement of Dominick Lynch, the liberality of the manager of the Park Theater, Stephen Price, and the distinguished reputation of the Venetian, Lorenzo Da Ponte. Lynch, a native of New York, was the acknowledged head of the fas.h.i.+onable and festive board, a gentleman of the ton and a melodist of great powers and of exquisite taste; he had long striven to enhance the character of our music; he was the master of English song, but he felt, from his close cultivation of music and his knowledge of the genius of his countrymen, that much was wanting, and that more could be accomplished, and he sought out, while in Europe, an Italian _troupe_, which his persuasive eloquence and the liberal spirit of Price led to embark for our sh.o.r.es where they arrived in November, 1825." Stephen Price here referred to by Dr. Francis was the manager of the old Park Theater. Dominick Lynch's grandson, Nicholas Luquer, who with his charming wife, formerly Miss Helen K. Shelton of New York, resides in Was.h.i.+ngton, and his son, Lynch Luquer, inherit the musical ability of their ancestor.

The great actors of the day performed in the Park Theater. I also vividly remember the Bowery Theater, as well as in subsequent years Burton's Theater in Chambers Street and the Astor Place Theater. When William C. Macready, the great English actor, was performing in the latter in 1849 a riot occurred caused by the jealousy existing between him and his American rival, Edwin Forrest. Forrest had not been well received in England owing, as he believed, to the unfriendly influence of Macready. While the latter was considered by many the better actor, Forrest was exceptionally popular with a certain cla.s.s of people in New York whose sympathies were easily enlisted and whose pa.s.sions were readily aroused. During the evening referred to, while Macready was acting in the _role_ of Macbeth, a determined mob attacked the theater, and the riot was not quelled until after a bitter struggle, in which the police and the military were engaged, and during which twenty-one were killed and thirty-three wounded.

In consequence of this unfortunate rivalry and its b.l.o.o.d.y results, Forrest became morbid, and his domestic infelicities that followed served to still further embitter his life. In 1850 his wife inst.i.tuted proceedings for divorce in the Superior Court of the City of New York, and the trial was protracted for two years. She was represented by the eminent jurist, Charles O'Conor, while Forrest employed "Prince" John Van Buren, son of the ex-President. The legal struggle was one of the most celebrated in the annals of the New York bar. There was abundant evidence of moral delinquency on the part of both parties to the suit, but the verdict was in favor of Mrs. Forrest. She was the daughter of John Sinclair, formerly a drummer in the English army and subsequently a professional singer. James Gordon Bennett said of her in the _Herald_ that "being born and schooled in turmoil and dissipation and reared in constant excitement she could not live without it."

I have heard it said that one day John Van Buren was asked by a disgruntled friend at the close of a hotly contested suit whether there was any case so vile or disreputable that he would refuse to act as counsel for the accused. The quick response was: "I must first know the circ.u.mstances of the case; but what have you been doing?" Dr. Valentine Mott, who for many years was a resident of Paris, gave a fancy-dress ball in New York in honor of the Prince de Joinville, son of Louis Philippe. At this entertainment John Van Buren appeared in the usual evening dress with a red sash tied around his waist. Much to the amus.e.m.e.nt of the guests whom he met, his salutation was: "Would you know me?" It will be remembered that he was familiarly called "Prince John,"

owing to the fact that he had once danced with Queen Victoria prior to her ascension to the throne. One day Van Buren met on the street James T. Brady, a lawyer of equal ability and wit, who had recently returned from a visit to England. In a most patronizing manner he inquired whether he had seen the Queen. "Certainly," said Mr. Brady, "and under these circ.u.mstances. I was walking along the street when by chance the Queen's carriage overtook me, and the moment Her Majesty's eye lighted upon me she exclaimed: 'h.e.l.lo, Jim Brady, when did you hear from John Van Buren?'" I recall another amusing anecdote about John Van Buren during my school days. Mustaches were at that time worn chiefly by the sporting element. Mr. Van Buren, who was very attentive to Catharine Theodora Duer, a daughter of President William Alexander Duer of Columbia College, and who, by the way, never married, adopted this style of facial adornment, but the young woman objecting to it he cut it off and sent it to her in a letter. Prince John Van Buren's daughter, Miss Anna Vander Poel Van Buren, many years thereafter, married Edward Alexander Duer, a nephew of this Catharine Theodora Duer.

It was my very great pleasure to know f.a.n.n.y Kemble and her father, Charles Kemble. She was, indeed, the queen of tragedy, and delighted the histrionic world of New York by her remarkable rendering of the plays of Shakespeare. In later years when I heard her give Shakespearian readings, I regarded the occasion as an epoch in my life. In this connection I venture to express my surprise that the cla.s.sical English quotations so pleasing to the ear in former days are now so seldom heard. It seems unfortunate that the epigrammatic sentences, for example, of grand old Dr. Samuel Johnson have become almost obsolete. In former years Byron appealed to the sentiment, while the more ambitious quoted Greek maxims. The sayings of the old authors were recalled, mingled with the current topics of the day. It would seem, however, that the present generation is decidedly more interested in quotations from the stock exchange. Edmund Burke said that "the age of chivalry is gone, that of sophists, economists, and calculators has succeeded."

Upon her return to England f.a.n.n.y Kemble published her journal kept while in the United States, which was by no means pleasing in every respect to her American readers. It is said that in one of her literary effusions she dwelt upon a custom, which she claimed was prevalent in America, of parents naming their children after cla.s.sical heroes, and gave as an example a child in New York who bore the name of Alfonzo Alonzo Agamemnon Dionysius Bogardus. The sister of this youth, she stated, was named Clementina Seraphina Imogen. I think this statement must have been evolved from her own brain, as it would be difficult to conceive of parents who would consent to make their children notorious in such a ridiculous manner. f.a.n.n.y Kemble married Pierce Butler, a lawyer of ability and cousin of the U.S. Senator from South Carolina of the same name, and they were divorced in 1849, when the Hon. George M. Dallas was counsel for f.a.n.n.y Kemble and Rufus Choate appeared for her husband.

f.a.n.n.y Elssler, a queen of grace and beauty on the stage, delighted immense audiences at the Park Theater. She came to this country under the auspices of Chevalier Henry Wikoff, a roving but accomplished soldier of fortune, who pitched his camp in both continents. Upon her arrival in New York the "divine f.a.n.n.y," as she was invariably called, was borne to her destination in a carriage from which the horses had been detached by her enthusiastic _adorateurs_, led by August Belmont.

She was, indeed,

A being so fair that the same lips and eyes She bore on earth might serve in Paradise.

At this distant day it seems almost impossible to describe her. She seemed to float upon the stage sustained only by the surrounding atmosphere. In my opinion she has never had a rival, with the possible exception of Taglioni, the great Swedish _danseuse_. I saw f.a.n.n.y Elssler dance the _cracovienne_ and the _cachucha_, and it is a memory which will linger with me always. The music that accompanied these dances was generally selected from the popular airs of the day. Many dark stories were afloat concerning f.a.n.n.y Elssler's private life, but to me it seems impossible to a.s.sociate her angelic presence with anything but her wonderful art. She was never received socially in New York; indeed, the only person that I remember connected with the stage in my early days who had the social _entree_ was f.a.n.n.y Kemble.

We attended the Dutch Reformed Church in New York of which the Rev. Dr.

Jacob Brodhead was for many years the pastor. My aunts, however, attended one of the three collegiate churches in the lower part of the city, and I sometimes accompanied them and, as there was a frequent interchange of pulpits, I became quite accustomed to hear all of the three clergymen. The Rev. Dr. John Knox, who endeared himself to his flock by his gentle and appealing ministrations; the Rev. Dr. Thomas De Witt, a profound theologian and courtly gentleman; and the Rev. Dr.

William C. Brownlee, with his vigorous Scotch accent, preaching against what he invariably called "papery" (popery), and recalling, as he did, John Knox of old, that irritating thorn in the side of the unfortunate Mary Queen of Scots, made up this remarkable trio. During the latter part of his life Dr. Brownlee suffered from a stroke of paralysis which rendered him speechless, and his Catholic adversaries improved this opportunity to circulate the report that he had been visited by a judgment from Heaven.

There were many s.h.i.+ning lights in the Episcopal Church at this time in New York. The Rev. Dr. William Berrian was the acceptable rector of St.

John's, which was then as now a chapel of Trinity Parish. The Rev. Dr.

Francis L. Hawks was the popular rector of St. Thomas's church, on the corner of Broadway and Houston Streets. He was a North Carolinian by birth, but is said to have been in part of Indian descent. I recall with pleasure his masterly rendition of the Episcopal service. During the Civil War he made it quite apparent to his paris.h.i.+oners that his sympathies were with the South, and as most of them did not share his views he moved to Baltimore, where a more congenial atmosphere surrounded him.

The Rev. Dr. Stephen H. Tyng, senior, was the rector of St. George's Episcopal church in the lower part of the city. He was a theologian of the Low-Church school and was greatly esteemed by all of his colleagues.

His son, the Rev. Dr. Stephen H. Tyng, junior, was in full sympathy with the Low-Church views of his father, and will be recalled as an evangelical preacher of exceptional power and wide influence. In the summer of 1867 he preached, in defiance of the canons of the Episcopal Church, in St. James's Methodist church in New Brunswick, N.J., thus invading without authority the parishes of the Rev. Dr. Alfred Stubs and the Rev. Dr. Edward B. Boggs of that city. His trial was of sensational interest, and resulted, as will be remembered, in his conviction. The att.i.tude of the Tyngs, father and son, was humorously described by Anthony Bleecker, a well-known wit of the day, in these verses:

_Tyng, Junior._

I preach from barrels and from tubs, In spite of Boggs, in spite of Stubs; I'll preach from stumps, I'll preach from logs, In spite of Stubs, in spite of Boggs.

_Tyng, Senior._

Do, Steve; and lay aside your gown, Your bands and surplice throw them down; A bob-tail coat of tweed or kersey Is good enough at least for Jersey.

_Tyng, Junior._

What if the Bishops interfere, And I am made a culprit clear; Can't you a thunderbolt then forge, And hurl it in the new St. George?

_Tyng, Senior._

Be sure I can and out of spite A wrathy sermon I'll indite; I'll score the court and every judge And call the whole proceedings fudge; And worse than that each reverent name I'll bellow through the trump of fame; With Bishop Potter I'll get even, And make you out the martyr Stephen.

The Rev. Dr. Orville Dewey, renowned for his intellectual attainments, preached in the Unitarian church in Mercer Street. In subsequent years his sermons were published and I understand are still read with much interest and pleasure. Archbishop John Hughes, whom I knew quite well, was the controlling power in the Roman Catholic Church. He possessed the affectionate regard of the whole community, and naturally commanded a wide influence. A Roman Catholic told me many years ago that, upon one of the visits of the Archbishop to St. Peter's church, he took the congregation to task for their exclusiveness, exclaiming: "You lock up your pews and exclude the marrow of the land."

I knew very well the Rev. Charles Constantine Pise, the first native-born Catholic to officiate in St. Joseph's church on Sixth Avenue. He was of Italian parentage and was remarkable for his great physical attractiveness. In addition to his fine appearance, he was exceedingly social in his tastes and was consequently a highly agreeable guest. He cultivated the muses to a modest degree, and I have several of his poetical effusions, one of which was addressed to me. In spite of the admiration he commanded from both men and women, irrespective of creed, life seemed to present to him but few allurements. Archbishop Hughes sent him to a small Long Island parish where, after laboring long and earnestly, he closed his earthly career. An anecdote is related of this pious man which I believe to be true. A young woman quite forgetful of the proprieties and conventionalties of life, but with decided matrimonial proclivities, made Father Pise an offer of her fortune, heart and hand. In a dignified manner he advised her to give her heart to G.o.d, her money to the poor, and her hand to the man who asked for it.

Prior to his rectors.h.i.+p of St. Joseph's church in New York, Father Pise, who was an intimate friend of Henry Clay, served as Chaplain of the U.S.

Senate during a portion of the 22d Congress. At the National Capital as well as in New York he was exceptionally popular, making many converts, especially among young women, and preaching to congregations in churches so densely crowded that it was difficult to obtain even standing room.

I cannot pa.s.s the Roman Catholic clergy without some reference to the Rev. Felix Varela, a priest of Spanish descent and, it is said, of n.o.ble birth, who was sent from Cuba to Spain as one of the deputies to the Cortes from his native island. His church was St. Peter's in Barclay Street. It would be difficult for any words to do justice to his life of self-abnegation or to his adherence to the precepts of his Divine Master. It is with pleasure, therefore, that I relate the following story, for the truth of which I can vouch. A policeman found a handsome pair of silver candlesticks in the custody of a poor unfortunate man, and as they bore upon them a distinctive coat of arms he arrested him.

On his way to prison the suspected criminal begged to see Father Varela for a moment, and as his residence was _en route_ to the station house the officer granted his request. This good priest informed the policeman with much reluctance that the candlesticks had formerly belonged to him, and that he had given them to his prisoner to buy bread for his family. My father was so deeply in sympathy with the life and character of this priest that, although of a different faith, he seldom heard his name mentioned without an expression of admiration for his life and character.

There was a French Protestant church in Franklin Street ministered to by the Rev. Dr. Antoine Verren, whose wife was a daughter of Thomas Hammersley. I also remember very well a Presbyterian church on Laight Street, opposite St. John's Park, the rector of which was the Rev. Dr.

Samuel H. c.o.x, an uncle of the late Bishop Arthur Cleveland c.o.x of the Episcopal Church. Dr. c.o.x was a prominent abolitionist, and when we were living on Hubert Street, just around the corner, this church was stoned by a mob because the rector had expressed his anti-slavery views too freely.

The mode of conducting funerals in former days in New York differed very materially from the customs now in vogue. While the coffins of the well-to-do were made entirely of mahogany and without handles, I have always understood that persons of the Hebrew faith buried their dead in pine coffins, as they believed this wood to be more durable.

Pall-bearers wore white linen scarfs three yards long with a rosette of the same material fastened on one shoulder, which, together with a pair of black gloves, was always presented by the family. It was originally the intention that the linen scarf should be used after the funeral for making a s.h.i.+rt. Funerals from churches were not as customary as at the present time. If the body was to be interred within the city limits every one attending the services, including the family, walked to the cemetery. It was unusual for a woman to be seen at a funeral.

But the whole social tone of New York society was more _de rigueur_ than now. Sometimes, for example, persons living under a cloud of insufficient magnitude to place them behind prison bars, feeling their disgrace, took flight for Texas. Instead of placing the conventional _P.P.C._ on their cards the letters _G.T.T._ were used, meaning that the self-expatriated ne'er-do-well had "gone to Texas." I have always understood that in Great Britain the transgressor sought the Continent, where he was often enabled to pa.s.s into oblivion. In this manner both countries were relieved of patriots who "left their country for their country's good." As an example, I remember hearing in my early life of an Englishman named de Roos, who had the unfortunate habit of arranging cards to suit his own fancy. When his _confreres_ finally caught him in the act he left hurriedly for the Continent.

In 1842 the U.S. sloop of war _Somers_ arrived in New York, and the country was startled by the accounts of what has since been known as the "Somers Mutiny." The Captain of the s.h.i.+p was Commander Alexander Slidell Mackenzie, whose original surname was Slidell. He was a brother of the Hon. John Slidell, at one time U.S. Senator from Louisiana, who, during the Civil War, while on his pa.s.sage to England on the _Trent_ as a representative of the Southern Confederacy in England, was captured by Captain Charles Wilkes of the U.S. Navy. The result of the alleged mutiny was the execution, by hanging at the yard arm, of Philip Spencer, a son of the celebrated New York lawyer, John C. Spencer, President Tyler's Secretary of War, and of two sailors, Samuel Cromwell and Elisha Small. It was charged that they had conspired to capture the s.h.i.+p and set adrift or murder her officers. Being far from any home port, and uncertain of the extent to which the spirit of disaffection had permeated the crew, Mackenzie consulted the officers of his s.h.i.+p as to the proper course for him to pursue. In accordance with their advice, and after only a preliminary examination of witnesses and no formal trial with testimony for the defense, they were, as just stated, summarily executed.

I speak from the point of view of the legal element of New York, as my father's a.s.sociates were nearly all professional men. The world was aghast upon receiving the news that three men had been hurled into eternity without judge or jury. Spencer was a lad of less than nineteen and a mids.h.i.+pman. Although Captain Mackenzie's action was sustained by the court of inquiry, which was convened in his case, as well as by the _esprit de corps_ of the Navy, public feeling ran so high that a court martial was ordered. His trial of two months' duration took place at the Brooklyn Navy Yard, and resulted in a verdict of "not proven." The judge-advocate of the court was Mr. William H. Norris of Baltimore, and Mackenzie was defended by Mr. George Griffith and Mr. John Duer, the latter of whom was the distinguished New York jurist and the uncle of Captain Mackenzie's wife. At the request of the Hon. John C. Spencer, Benjamin F. Butler and Charles O'Conor, leaders of the New York bar, formally applied for permission to ask questions approved by the court and to offer testimony, but the request was refused--"so that," as Thomas H. Benton expressed it, "at the long _post mortem_ trial which was given to the boy after his death, the father was not allowed to ask one question in favor of his son." After a lapse of sixty-nine years, judging from Mackenzie's report to the Navy Department, it almost seems as if he possessed a touch of mediaeval superst.i.tion. He speaks of Spencer giving money and tobacco to the crew, of his being extremely intimate with them, that he had a strange flas.h.i.+ng of the eye, and finally that he was in the habit of amusing the sailors by making music with his jaws. Mackenzie in his official report stated that this lad "had the faculty of throwing his jaw out of joint and by contact of the bones playing with accuracy and elegance a variety of airs." James Fenimore Cooper stated it as his opinion, "that such was the obliquity of intellect shown by Mackenzie in the whole affair, that no a.n.a.lysis of his motives can be made on any consistent principle of human action;"

and the distinguished statesman, Thomas H. Benton, whose critical and lengthy review of the whole case would seem to carry conviction to unprejudiced minds, declared that the three men "died innocent, as history will tell and show."

The proceedings of the Mackenzie trial were eagerly read by an interested public. As I remember the testimony given regarding Spencer's last moments upon earth, Mackenzie announced to the youthful culprit that he had but ten minutes to live. He fell at once upon his knees and exclaimed that he was not fit to die, and the Captain replied that he was aware of the fact, but could not help it. It is recorded that he read his Bible and Prayer-Book, and that the Captain referred him to the "penitent thief;" but when he pleaded that his fate would kill his mother and injure his father, Mackenzie made the inconsiderate reply that the best and only service he could render his father was to die.

I recall a conversation bearing upon the _Somers_ tragedy which I overheard between my father and his early friend, Thomas Morris, when their indignation was boundless. The latter's son, Lieutenant Charles W.

Morris, U.S.N., had made several cruises with the alleged mutineer Cromwell. Meeting Mackenzie he stated this fact, saying at the same time that he found him a well-disposed and capable seaman. Mackenzie quickly responded that "he had a bad eye," and then Lieutenant Morris recalled that the unfortunate man had a cast in one eye.

A few years after his court-martial Mackenzie fell dead from his horse.

One of the wardroom officers of the _Somers_ was Adrian Deslonde of Louisiana, whose sister married the Hon. John Slidell, of whom I have already spoken as Commander Mackenzie's brother.