eated with every
consideration by its captain. We were three months upon the homeward
voyage and the captain called it smooth sailing. We fell in with many
vessels _en route_ and, to quote our skipper, we found them "like human
beings, some very friendly and others stern and curt." When in mid-ocean
we passed an American vessel, the _Anna Decatur_, which seemed like a
welcome from home as it was named after a former New York friend of
mine, Anna Pine Decatur, a niece of Commodore Stephen Decatur, who
married Captain William H. Parsons of the merchant service. Lieutenant
Stephen Decatur, U.S.N., a brother of Anna Pine Decatur, was a constant
visitor at our house in Houston Street in my young days. During one of
his cruises he was stricken with a serious illness which resulted in
total blindness. He subsequently married but, although he never had the
pleasure of seeing his wife and children, his genial nature was not
changed by his affliction. In 1869 he became a Commodore on the retired
list, but some of the family connection objected to his use of this
title, as in their opinion the world should recognize only one Commodore
Stephen Decatur, the naval hero of 1812.

As we neared New York harbor I became decidedly impatient and was
congratulating myself one morning that our long voyage was almost over,
when I noticed that the usually pleasant expression on the captain's
face had changed to one of extreme anxiety. I inquired: "What is wrong,
Captain?" and to my dismay he replied: "Everything!" He then told me we
were just outside the pilot grounds, but that in all his experience,
even in Chinese waters, he had never known the barometer to fall so low;
and, to add to his anxiety, there was no pilot within sight! It was a
very cold February morning, the thermometer having reached the zero
mark, and I went at once to my cabin to prepare for the worst. The
captain meanwhile commenced to make preparations for a severe storm, but
before we realized it the tempest was upon us and our vessel was blown
far out to sea, where for three days we were at the mercy of the
elements. The rudder was tied, the hatches battened down and there was
nothing left to do but to sit with folded hands and trust to that
Providence whom even the waters obey.

[Illustration: MRS. GOUVERNEUR'S THREE DAUGHTERS.

_Miss Gouverneur, Mrs. Roswell Randall Hoes, Mrs. William Crawford
Johnson._]

I remember sitting in my stateroom one of those terrible night