Beer Anecdote.

but as he was on guard duty that night he couldn't. Well, we agreed to slip off in the afternoon, lay in supplies at Benny's, and eat and drink them up after taps. Jimmie Stuart had raised five dollars someA Gingerbread and how or other, so there was nothing at Benny's that was too good for us. We laid in a supply of beer and cakes. It was about all you could get at Benny's. Dabney Maury carried the beer, I carried the cakes, and Jimmie Stuart and Cadmus Wilcox did scouting duty. My cakes were big, flat gingerbreads, piled one on top of another, and, as they were not wrapped up, I had all I could do to balance them by using both hands. Dabney was even worse off with the beer bottles. We got along all right, passed the post limits in safety, and had nearly reached the barracks without being seen, when suddenly Jimmie Stuart cried, 'Look out!' and took to his heels, closely followed by Cadmus Wilcox. 'What's the matter?' I said. 'Look!' said Dabney, and I looked. Not twenty yards from us, and bearing right down on us, was old General Scott, flanked on one side by Mrs. Scott and on the other side by Miss Camilla. They saw us and there was no escape. By halting and saluting we should have had to drop our bottles and cakes and run the risk of smashing them. 'We're in for it, Dabney,' I said, 'look straight ahead and pretend not to see him. It is our last chance.' And so we did. As we came near them we executed a column half right and passed by. The general grew very red, looked straight to the front and said nothing. After we had got by we heard what sounded very much like several people laughing. At any rate," said my father in conclusion, "we had our supper and weren't reported. And I have often thought," he said reflectively, "that Miss Camilla saved us.”

At the breaking out of the Mexican War the government organized a company of engineer troops, or, as it was called, "sappers, miners and pontooneers," and Captain Alexander J. Swift was put in command. Captain Swift had graduated head of the Class of 1830, and was the son of General Joseph G. Swift, who had graduated head of the first class that ever left West Point. Gustavus W. Smith, or, as he was always called, "G. W.," of the Class of 1842, was the acting first second lieutenant. Soon after reaching and went to New Orleans on sick leave. the thirty-eighth year of his age. The command of the company then devolved upon G. W. Smith, who held it throughout the war. father lived together as long as they were in Mexico.

lieutenant, and my father was the Mexico, Captain Swift became ill, He died there April 24, 1847, in

He and my

After the City of Mexico had been captured, but before the desultory firing from the roofs of houses had altogether ceased, "G. W." and my father were passing through a very narrow street, when a sharpshooter on the roof of a neighboring house attracted their attention. "Let's go up and settle

Adventure with

him," said my father. "All right," answered "G. W." So, leaving the small. detachment they had with them below, they started after their victim. When they reached the roof they found that the sharpshooter had been killed by some one in the street, so they started down-stairs again. It was the usual Mexican house, with a flat roof and long, narrow passages. When they reached the second floor "G. W." said to my father: "Mac, it's rather curious that there is no one in this house; I wonder what's behind that door!" They found the door locked and the key on the outside. Unlocking it, my father walked in ahead of "G. W." He had hardly crossed the threshold when, without a sound, a man jumped at his throat, tripped him up, and with great dexterity proceeded to choke him. "G. W." was-luckily for my father-right behind him, and as soon as he saw what had happened threw himself into the fight. After some minutes they succeeded in tying up their assailant and turned him over to their escort. He was mad, there was no doubt of it, stark, staring mad; but although "G. W." and my father spent many months in the City of Mexico, and made all possible inquiry, they were never able to find out who he was nor how he had got into the house and room where they had found him.

a Madman

in Mexico

In 1847 the Aztec Club was organized in the City of Mexico by a number of the United States officers quartered there. The club's first president. was General Franklin Pierce, subsequently President of the United States, and among its members who afterward became prominent in the Confederacy were P. G. T. Beauregard, Barnard E. Bee, Joseph E. Johnston, Robert E. Lee, G. W. Smith and Cadmus M. Wilcox. Jefferson Davis, although he never belonged to the club, was intimate with most of its older members. My father used to say that Joseph E. Johnston was the most popular member of the club. "Everyone called him Uncle Joe," he said, “everyone liked him and he seemed to like everyone. I know that I have never had a better friend nor one I cared more for than Uncle Joe."

Years afterward, at my father's marriage, he wrote to General Johnston :

DEAR UNCLE JOE:

Aren't you coming to my wedding? I shan't feel that I am married unless you are there. Strangely enough, only the other day, while looking through my father's papers, I came across a little narrow envelope, yellow with age, and sealed with an old-fashioned wafer. It was addressed to Captain McClellan, and was as follows:

DEAR LITTLE MAC:

Of course I shall be at your wedding. I shouldn't consider you married unless I were there. JOSEPH E. JOHNSTON.

Your friend,

Their friendship lasted through life, and was only interrupted during the few years that they fought against each other in the late war. They had always respected and cared for one another, but, as General Johnston said to me, "You never know what's in a man until you try to lick him." When the war was over they really knew each other better, and admired each other more than they ever had before. Toward the close of my father's life he was lucky enough to see more of General Johnston than he had in some years. It made them young again to be together, and, with General Wilcox as a third, I have often heard the Mexican War fought over again. They never mentioned the Civil War, but by common consent dropped from their reminiscences the period from 1861 to 1865. The last act of the friendship of Uncle Joe and Little Mac was played by Uncle Joe alone, when he acted as one of Little Mac's pall-bearers.

McClellan's Opinion of Jefferson Davis.

Jefferson Davis was the Secretary of War who sent my father to the Crimea. It had been decided to send a commission of three to Europe, "to study the art of war," as practiced by the Russians and their allies. Although Captain McClellan, as he was then, was only twenty-nine years old when he was sent to Europe, he had impressed Colonel Davis so favorably, while in Mexico, that his name was the first that the Secretary suggested to the President as a member of the commission. My father had ample opportunity to form an unbiased opinion of Colonel Davis, for both before leaving for Europe aud after his return, he spent some time in Washington, in constant communication with the Secretary. His opinion of Colonel Davis was as favorable as was Colonel Davis' opinion of him. "Colonel Davis," he said, "was a man of most extraordinary ability. As an executive officer, he was remarkable. He was the best Secretary of War-and I use 'best' in its widest sense-I have ever had anything to do with."

With singular appropriateness, one of my father's last public appearances was on the battlefield of Antietam, at a "Blue and Gray" celebration, on Decoration Day, in 1885. During our stay near Sharpsburg, we were the guests of that gallant gentleman and beau ideal of Southern chivalry, Colonel Kyd Douglass, who had been General Robert E. Lee's chief of staff. Certainly a striking illustration of our country's greatness and unity-George B. McClellan shown over the battlefield of Antietam by the man who had been closest to his great opponent. My father was very much surprised to learn from Colonel Douglass that the dead of North and South were not buried side by side in the cemetery. "I can't understand why it should be so," he said. "Surely the past has been forgiven and forgotten. We who are left have ceased to bear ill-will, and are all loyal children of our

country. If we don't draw the line among the living, why should we do it among the dead? Were they who died for what they thought right alive to-day they would be the first to wish it otherwise. Bury our dead of both North and South side by side. They would have wanted it so."

The next day, after we had left Hagerstown, he said to me: "I am very glad that I have been back to Antietam, and have had a chance to speak to some of my boys, and to some of Lee's, too. It has brought nearer to me the fact that, thank God, the war is over forever. Seeing my boys talking and eating and drinking with those fellows in gray, and seeing crops growing where I last saw Hunt's artillery, makes me feel that war is, after all, a pretty bad substitute for peace."

T

WITH BUCHANAN ON THE "TENNESSEE.”

By D. B. CONRAD, M. D.,

(Late Fleet Surgeon, U. S. Navy and C. S. Navy.)

HIRTY-FIVE years ago a memorable action was fought in Mobile Bay, between ironclads of different type, design, and armament; one with a shield and rifled guns, the other with turrets and Dahlgrens (smooth-bores). Many men are Many men are now living in New Orleans and Mobile who participated in or saw this conflict; there are many sons and daughters of the men living who have heard of it at the fireside. There are many others who have never heard of the fight, fought so near their homes, born and grown to full estate since that sorrowful period. For these, too, I write.

The Bay of Mobile was of infinite use and importance to the Confederates, who guarded and held it by two forts, Morgan and Gaines, at its entrance. By holding it they held safe the city of Mobile from attack by water; it could only be captured by a combined army and navy attack, so it was a safe depot for blockade-runners, easy to go out of and enter, and if it was so important to the Confederates, how much greater was it to the Federals? For they were compelled to keep For they were compelled to keep their large blockade fleet outside, exposed to all the storms of the gulf. They could only be victualed and watered by going away, one at a time, to Pensacola, their only port; their sick had to be transported to the same place, and the wear and tear both to vessels and crews was

How Mobile Bay

Was Defended.

fearful, as a constant, vigilant and never-ceasing watch, both by officers and men, had to be kept up, day and night, year in and year out. The officers were in three watches, the men in two, guarding themselves against night attacks by torpedo-boats or assault by the Confederate gunboats, and seeing that no vessel came out and that none went in. All this had to be endured, or the bay captured and held by the fleet. This was finally determined on by Farragut, and he only awaited the arrival of ironclads to make sure his end. Finding this plan determined on, the Confederates bestirred themselves. At the hamlet of Selma, on the river above, they built one ironclad, on the plan of the "Merrimac," their resources being exhausted to do even this. Slowly the wooden structure approached completion, then more slowly was it ironed all over above the water-line, then towed down to Mobile, where it was equipped with eight-inch rifle-guns.

see" was Drawn Over the Bar.

Then, when officers and men, provisions and water had been taken on board, all ready for action, she started down the bay, nearly thirty miles, to go outside in rough water and attack the enemy's wooden fleet before the ironclads arrived; when, on arriving at the bar of sand caused by Dog Run emptying into the bay, it was found that the bar had shoaled to such an extent that the ironclad, now christened the "Tennessee," drew three feet more water than there was under her. The only expedient How the "Tennes- that offered itself, which was safe and speedy, was to build of huge square timbers two enormous air-tight tanks, each as high as a two-story house. These were to be towed alongside of the ram and sunk to the water's edge by opening the valves, then all lashed together securely, making one vessel, as it were, of them; the water was pumped out of these tanks, and the air entering, they, by their buoyancy, lifted the huge ship clear of the bottom, then steam tugs towed her over the bar. This was done in May, 1864; it should have been so many months before, for these so-called "camels" were finished in March. But on their arrival off Mobile they were burned by Federal emissaries, who were paid well for their daring deed.

Right here we may interrupt our story to say that the secret service fund was well spent by Admiral Farragut, for we were delayed several months in building two more "camels," and by that time his ironclads were finished and on their way to him. I must mention the desertion of five men the day after the destruction of the camels; they had been working on our ironclad, and furnished him with all details of her construction, all her weak points, of the character of her engines, the calibre of her armament, of all of which information he availed himself when the eventful day of action came. In addition to this, they were to be received into the Federal service if they