for it was then, 1862-63, the fiftieth
year since her husband fell. She lived with a sister, also the widow
of an officer, and was frequently visited by her granddaughter, the
child of Lawrence's daughter, a singularly beautiful girl. I remember
her pointing to me a picture of the defeat of the _Peacock_, by the
_Hornet_, under her grandfather's command; on which, she laughingly
said, she had been brought up. This meeting had for me not only the
usual interest which a link with the distant past supplies, but a
certain special association; for my grandmother, then recently dead,
had known several of Lawrence's contemporaries in the navy, and my
recollection is that she told me she had seen him leaving his wife at
their doorstep, when departing to take command of the _Chesapeake_.

When the summer of 1863 drew nigh, the question of the usual practice
cruise came up. I have before stated the two opinions: one favoring a
regular ocean voyage, with its customary routine and accidents of
weather; the other more disposed to contracted cruising in our own
waters, anchoring at night, and by day following a formulated
programme of varied practical exercises. For this year both plans were
adopted. There were two practice-ships, one of which was to remain
between Narragansett and Gardiner's Bay, in Long Island. I was ordered
as first lieutenant of the other, which was to go to Europe. The
advisability of this step for a sailing-ship was on this occasion
doubly questioned, for the _Alabama_ had already begun her career. In
fact, one of the officers then stationed at the school had been
recently captured by her, when making a passage to Panama in a
mail-steamer. I remember his telling me, with glee, that when the
_Alabama_ fired a shot in the direction of the packet, called, I
think, the _Ariel_, a number of the passengers took refuge behind the
bulkheads of the upper-deck saloons, which, being of light pine,
afforded as much protection as the air, with the additional risk of
splinters. He hoped to escape observation, but the Confederate
boarding-officer had been a classmate of his, and spotted him at once.
Being paroled, he was for the time shut off from war service, and was
sent to the Academy. He was a singular man, by name Tecumseh Steece,
and looked with a certain disdain upon the navy as a profession. In
his opinion, it was for him only a stepping-stone to some great
future, rather undefined. At bottom a very honest fellow, wi