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MY MOTHEE AND I. 
 
 255 
 
 known. For after Cousin Conrad's depart- 
 ure we seemed to close up together — she and I 
 — in one another's loving arms ; understand- 
 ing one another thoroughly, though still, as 
 ever, we did not speak one word about him 
 that all the world might not have heard. 
 
 Outwardly, our life was wholly free from 
 care. We had as much of each other's so- 
 ciety, or nearly as much, as we bad ever had, 
 with the cares of poverty entirely removed. 
 My grandfather proved as good as his word, 
 and all that Cousin Conrad had said of him 
 he justified to the full. He received my 
 mother with cordial welcome, and treated 
 her from first to last with unfailing respect 
 and consideration. She had every luxury 
 that I could desire for her, and she needed 
 luxuries, for after her illness she was never 
 her strong, active self again. But she was 
 her dear self always — the sweetest, bright- 
 est little mother in all the world. 
 
 To the world itself, however, we were two 
 very grand people — Mrs. and Miss Picardy 
 of Broadlands. At which we often laughed 
 between ourselves, knowing that we were in 
 reality exactly the same as in our shut-up 
 poverty days — just "my mother and I." 
 
 Cousin Conrad's letters were our great en- 
 joyment. He never missed a single mail. 
 Generally he wrote to her, with a little note 
 inside for me, inquiring about my studies 
 and amusements, and telling me of his own, 
 though of himself personally he said very 
 little. Whether he were well or ill, happy 
 or miserable, we could guess only by indirect 
 evidence. But one thing was clear enough 
 — his intense longing to be at home. 
 
 " Not a day shall I wait," he said in a let- 
 ter to my grandfather — " not a single day 
 after the term of absence I have prescribed 
 to myself is ended." And my grandfather 
 coughed, saying, mysteriously, " that Conrad 
 always had his crotchets; he hoped this 
 would be the last of them ; it was not so 
 very long to look forward." 
 
 Did I look forward ? Had I any dreams 
 of a possible future ? I can not tell. My 
 life was so full and busy — my mother seem- 
 ed obstinately determined to keep it busy — 
 that I had little time for dreams. 
 
 She took me out into society, and I think 
 both she and my grandfather enjoyed socie- 
 ty's receiving me well. I believe I made 
 what is called a " sensation" in both Dublin 
 and London. I was even presented at 
 court, and the young Queen said a kind 
 word or two about me, in her Majesty's own 
 pleasant way. Well, well, all that is gone 
 by now ; but at the time I enjoyed it. It 
 was good to be worth something — even to 
 look at — -and I liked to be liked very much, 
 until some few did rather more than like me, 
 and then I was sometimes very unhappy. 
 But my grandfather kept his promise ; he 
 never urged upon me any offer of marriage. 
 And my mother too — my tender mother — 
 
 r< 
 
 ri 
 -4 
 
 r» 
 
 asked me not a single question as to the why 
 and the wherefore, though, one after anoth- 
 er, I persistently refused them all. 
 
 "When she is one-and-twenty, my dear, 
 we may hope she will decide. By then she 
 will have time to know her own mind. 
 Conrad said so, and Conrad is always right." 
 
 Thus said my grandfather to my mother, 
 and they both smiled at one another : they 
 were the best of friends now, and so they 
 remained to the last. 
 
 The last came sooner than any of us had 
 thought — for Cousin Conrad's prophecies 
 were not realized. When we had had only 
 three years in which to make him happy — 
 and I know we did make him happy — my 
 dear grandfather died ; suddenly, painlessly, 
 without even having had time to bid us 
 good-by. It was a great shock, and we 
 mourned for him as if we had loved him all 
 our lives. Ay, even though, to the great 
 surprise of our affectionate friends — a large 
 circle now — he left us only a small annuity 
 — the rest of his fortune going, as the will 
 proved he had always meant it to go, to 
 Cousin Conrad. I was so glad ! 
 
 Cousin Conrad was now obliged to come 
 home. We had only one line from h im, when 
 he got the sad news, begging my mother to 
 remain mistress at Broadlands until he ar- 
 rived there, and adding tliat, if it did not 
 trouble us very much, he should be grateful 
 could we manage to meet him at Southamp- 
 ton, he being "rather an invalid." 
 
 So we went. I need not say any thing 
 about the journey. When it ended, my 
 mother, just at the last minute, proposed 
 that I should remain in the carriage, at the 
 dock gates, while she went forward to the 
 ship's side, where we could dimly perceive 
 a crowd disembarking. 
 
 They disembarked. I saw them land in 
 happy groups, with equally happy friends 
 to greet them, laughing and crying and kiss- 
 ing one another. They all came home, safe 
 and sound, all but one— my one. Deep in 
 the Eed Sea, where the busy ships sail over 
 him, and the warm waves rock him in his 
 sleep, they had left him — as much as could 
 die of him — my Cousin Conrad. 
 
 ****** 
 
 He had died of the fatal family disease 
 which he knew he was doomed to, though 
 the warm climate of the East and the pure 
 air of the hills kept it dormant for a long 
 time. But some accidental exposure brought 
 on inflammation of his lungs ; after which he 
 began to sink rapidly. The doctors told him 
 he would never reach England alive ; but he 
 was determined to try. I heard it was won- 
 derful how long the brave spirit upbore the 
 feeble body. He did not suffer much, but 
 just lay every day on deck ; alone, quite 
 alone, as far as near friends went — yet 
 watched and tended by all the passengers, 
 as if he had belonged to them for years. In 
 
256 
 
 HAEPER'S NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. 
 
 the midst of them all, these kind strange 
 faces, he one day suddenly, when no one ex- 
 pected it, "fell on sleep." For he looked as 
 if asleep — they said — with the sun shining 
 on his face, and his hands folded, as quiet as 
 a child. 
 
 All that was his became mine. He left it 
 me— and it was a large fortune — in a brief 
 will, made hastily the very day after he had 
 received the tidings of my grandfather's 
 death. He gave me every thing absolutely, 
 both " because it was my right," and " be- 
 cause he had always loved me." 
 
 He had always loved me. Then, why 
 grieve ? 
 
 In course of years I think I have almost 
 ceased to grieve. If, long ago, merely be- 
 cause I loved him, I had felt as if already 
 married, how much more so now, when noth- 
 ing could ever happen to change this feeling, 
 or make my love for him a sin ? 
 
 I do not say there was not an intermedi- 
 ate and terrible time, a time of utter blank- 
 ness and darkness, when I " walked through 
 the valley of the shadow of death ;" alone, 
 quite aloue. But by-and-by I came out of 
 it into the safe twilight — we came out of it, 
 
 I should say, for she had been close beside 
 me all the while, my dearest mother ! 
 
 She helped me to carry out my life, as like 
 his as I could make it, in the way I knew he 
 would most approve. And, so doing, it has 
 not been by any means an unhappy life. I 
 have had his wealth to accomplish all his 
 schemes of benevolence ; I have sought out 
 his friends and made them mine, and been 
 as true to them as he would have been. In 
 short, I have tried to do all that he was 
 obliged to leave undone, and to make my- 
 self contented in the doing of it. 
 
 " Contented," I think, was the word peo- 
 ple most often used concerning us during 
 the many peaceful years we spent together, 
 my mother and I. Now it is only I. But I 
 am, I think, a contented old woman yet. 
 My own are still my own — perhaps the more 
 so as I approach the time of reunion. For 
 even here, to those who live in it and under- 
 stand what it means, there is, both for us 
 and for our dead, both in this life and in the 
 life to come, the same " kingdom of heaven." 
 
 Of course I have always remained Elma 
 Picardy. 
 
 ONE OF MANY. 
 
 THE world just now is full of heroes, for 
 the wars of the late decade are resplen- 
 dent with actions well fulfilling the poet's 
 prophecy of the period when 
 
 "Many a darkness into the light shall leap, 
 And shine in the sudden making of splendid 
 names." 
 
 But among all the laureled number it has 
 not been our fortune to hear of any whose 
 exploits eclipse in brilliancy and elan those 
 of one of our young naval officers who en- 
 tered the lists a stripling, and whom the 
 close of the war found, at the age of twenty- 
 two, with the rank of lieutenant-command- 
 er, and with the engrossed thanks of Con- 
 gress and of the Navy Department in his 
 possession, together with countless testimo- 
 nials, medals, and acknowledgments from 
 generals of division, Union Leagues, and cor- 
 porate bodies in all parts of the country : 
 tributes to deeds which bring back to us 
 a remembrance of those of the old heroic 
 days — deeds so great that men became 
 great through the mere recital of them. 
 And certainly he who so often and so gal- 
 lantly risked life and fame for his country 
 as Lieutenant-Commander William B. Gush- 
 ing did deserves some other record than the 
 disjointed and fragmentary one hidden away 
 in the archives of the Bureau of State ; and 
 it is a task full of interest to gather one ru- 
 mor and another, sift their truth, and put 
 official statement by statement, till the story 
 
 of those five glorious years of his service 
 stands complete. 
 
 Midshipman Cushing sailed from Boston 
 in the frigate Minnesota, and reached Hamp- 
 ton Roads in May, 1861 — a lad then scarcely 
 seventeen years old, but fully determined 
 upon playing a great part in the great 
 events to come. The Cumberland, the Quaker 
 City, and the MonUeello, men-of-war, all lay 
 in the roads, and the latter of them, which 
 has the honor of having been the first ship 
 under fire in the rebellion, young Cushing 
 subsequently commanded. The fleet had 
 not been at anchor a single day when five 
 schooners, loaded with tobacco, were cap- 
 tured ; and that night the young midship- 
 man took into port the Delaware Farmer, the 
 first prize of the war. During the next 
 month he was on duty with the blockading 
 squadron on the Carolina coast ; but in Au- 
 gust he was again in Hampton Roads, and 
 was in the first launch with those sent to 
 storm a battery and burn some small ves- 
 sels; and in the same month he sailed in 
 the Minnesota to the assault of the Hatteras 
 forts, the squadron consisting of the flag- 
 ship with six other men-of-war and some 
 steam-transports, and being the largest that 
 had ever sailed together under the American 
 flag. The waters to which Hatteras Inlet 
 gave entrance at that time swarmed with 
 privateers and blockade - runners, and its 
 possession was an object of importance, and 
 was guarded by the two forts, Clark and 
 
ONE OF MANY. 
 
 257 
 
 Hatteras. As the squadron moved into line, 
 and the first shot fired by the Wabash was 
 answered' by the rebel guns instantaneous- 
 ly, and every ship seemed suddenly sheeted 
 in flame, the scene heightened by the con- 
 trast of perfect peace otherwise on sea and 
 sky during all the bright summer day, we 
 can easily imagine what an experience it 
 was to the boy for the first time under the 
 fire of one. of those engagements to which 
 his fancy had thrilled a thousand times, and 
 his enjoyment of it may be known by the 
 eagerness with which from that moment 
 he plunged into every thing affording any 
 promise of the same excitement and danger. 
 
 During the following winter Midshipman 
 Cushing did blockading duty on the Cam- 
 bridge, and saw some hot work with a party 
 "cutting out" a schooner up a narrow 
 stream, being attacked by and defeating a 
 large body of infantry and artillery. He 
 was often in this stormy season out in open 
 boats for hours together, with the sea 
 breaking over him, till it was sometimes 
 necessary to hoist him on board, too stiff 
 with ice and sleet to bend a joint. But it 
 was at this time that the great Merrimac 
 fight came off, a part of which he was — a 
 part of the Saturday's black despondency 
 that saw the Cumberland go down and the 
 white flag flutter from the peak of the Con- 
 gress, of the Sunday's superb confidence, 
 when the rebel giant, with the sun glisten- 
 ing on her iron shields, bore down on her 
 grounded antagonist, and never seeming to 
 see an idle mote in the distance till a 200- 
 pounder came from it, crashing through her 
 consort, which turned and fled, a wreck, 
 while shot after shot beat and brayed her 
 own sides till the skies rang with the echoes, 
 and the fate of the old navies, with their 
 snowy billows of canvas, was settled by the 
 victory of the little black iron turret. 
 
 Of course the young sailor had, as time 
 went on, the usual number of the escapades 
 that seem to be the peculiar properties of 
 his class, one, not the least, of which hap- 
 pened after the fight at Malvern Hill, when, 
 being ashore with his admiral, and fired, by 
 the account of his valiant brother, with the 
 desire of sharing in an affair that might be 
 similar to the seven days' battle, he boldly 
 made off in search of adventure, and rode 
 to review the army on President Lincoln's 
 staff, finding himself under arrest on his re- 
 turn, though presently, with the proverbial 
 luck of the middy, released from duress. 
 He was destined, however, soon to leave 
 that fortunate and irresponsible condition, 
 and in July, 1862, was promoted to a lieu- 
 tenancy, the intermediate grades being over- 
 looked, and was ordered to the sounds of 
 North Carolina ; and, having turned to ac- 
 count the year's stern schooling, there the 
 career that has rendered his name remarka- 
 ble really began. And it may be mentioned 
 
 here that it was not only in the art of the 
 sea-fight that he had accomplished himself, 
 but in the more difficult art of attaching 
 men to him in such wise that they would 
 hazard life and fortune to follow him, a 
 thing absolutely indispensable to his under- 
 takings. Of this attachment of his compan- 
 ions and subordinates an instance may be 
 cited to the purpose, though so trifling. 
 This occurred once when the lieutenant 
 went to Washington with dispatches, and 
 when, chancing to look over the hotel regis- 
 ter, he found the names just above his own 
 were those of the officers who had ven- 
 tured with him on -that terrible night of 
 the affair of the Albemarle, and whom he 
 had supposed to be gone to their long home. 
 He had worn on the coat which he had 
 thrown off that night upon taking to the 
 water a ribbon with a gold chain and locket 
 of some value ; and on springing into the 
 room where were the officers, in the sorry 
 guise of their prison habiliments, after the 
 first greetings were over he saw one take 
 from under the collar of his blouse some of 
 the buttons of that coat, one the locket, one 
 the chain) and another the ribbon, the men 
 having carried these articles, unsuspected 
 and untouched, through all the want and 
 privations of four months in rebel prisons. 
 
 It having been decided not long subse- 
 quently to Lieutenant Cushing's promotion 
 to make a combined movement of army and 
 navy against the town of Franklin — after- 
 ward destroyed by the army — an agreement 
 was entered into for the army to open the at- 
 tack, and the navy to send three vessels up 
 the Blackwater in order to intercept the re- 
 treat of the seven thousand rebels. For some 
 reason or other the plan was changed, but 
 the messenger dispatched by the command- 
 ing officer with the account of the change did 
 not reach his destination in season ; and pre- 
 suming that all was to be as arranged, three 
 vessels moved up the Blackwater at the ap- 
 pointed hour, and were presently engaged, 
 with a couple of hundred men and a few 
 cannon, by all the strength of the enemy, in 
 a stream exceedingly narrow, and so crook- 
 ed that lines had constantly to be taken 
 from the ships and wound about the trees 
 on the shore, to obtain purchase and haul 
 the bows round the bend. At last, on work- 
 ing past a sharp angle of the shore, they 
 came upon an impassable barricade, an ab- 
 atis formed of the great trees felled from 
 both banks directly across the stream, at a 
 point where the force of the angry current 
 drifted them strongly in toward the left 
 side; and at the moment every object on 
 the bank became alive, and blazed with a 
 deadly fire, and such a yell burst forth from 
 every quarter that it seemed to belong to 
 the universal air. Captain Flusser instant- 
 ly ordered all hands into shelter, since it 
 would have been the merest bravado to at- 
 
258 
 
 HARPER'S NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. 
 
 tempt fighting his few men on an open 
 deck ; but Lieutenant Cushing, chancing to 
 glance over the side, saw a mass of infantry- 
 rushing down under cover of this fire to 
 board the vessel that lay in such a cruel am- 
 buscade, and calling for volunteers, he dash- 
 ed out, cast loose the howitzer, and by the 
 aid of half a dozen men and an officer, 
 wheeled it to the other side of the deck. 
 Before the piece could be leveled the seven 
 men lay dead and dying around him, and, 
 alone on the deck, he sent the death-dealing 
 canister flying into the assailants with a 
 will. It had the effect of magic, making 
 such havoc that the enemy fled in terror — 
 all save the leader, a man of noble appear- 
 ance, who, unaware of the faltering of his 
 troops, advanced, brandishing his sword, his 
 long hair streaming behind him, a shining 
 mark for death to lay low. Upon this all 
 hands were called to the scene, the guns 
 were worked with grape and canister, and 
 the marines, protected by the hammocks, 
 watched the tree-tops for a puff of smoke, 
 and picked off the sharp-shooters, who fell 
 every moment through the breaking branch- 
 es with wild cries. After that nothing was 
 left but retreat, and there followed half a 
 day of furious assault and repulse, of fight- 
 ing for every point, in order to send the lines 
 ashore there, and so to round the curves of 
 the river ; of struggling on the enemy's part 
 to keep the ships in the toils, of barricades 
 at every bend, of rifle-pits on every bluff. 
 Of course the ship that had been in the rear 
 of the advance now led the retreat, and re- 
 ceived the concealed fire of a thousand in- 
 fantry at every exposed spot, while the Com- 
 modore Perry, bringing up the rear at some 
 distance behind, was in almost every in- 
 stance unexpected by the rebels, and com- 
 ing on their flank, threw into them such vol- 
 leys of grape and shrapnel that those on 
 board could distinctly see the bloody havoc 
 that they wrought. At length, completely 
 exhausted, the three brave vessels were in 
 open water once more, decks wet with blood 
 and heaped with dead and wounded, and 
 sides fairly riddled with bullets. It was 
 probably owing to the report of this affair, 
 in which Lieutenant Cushing was highly 
 complimented, that he was ordered to his 
 first command, the gun-boat Ellis, a craft of 
 a hundred tons, mounting two guns, and 
 drawing so little water that, in Western 
 parlance, she could float on a heavy dew; 
 and in her the young officer, aged nineteen, 
 resolved upon noble achievements. 
 
 After capturing the town of Swansbor- 
 ough, taking and being obliged to burn the 
 Adelaide, with a cargo worth a hundred 
 thousand dollars, and destroying many im- 
 portant salt-works, Lieutenant Cushing 
 made a dash for the county seat of Onslow 
 Court House, about twenty miles from the 
 mouth of New River, where the wide and 
 
 deep waters afforded an excellent harbor for 
 Nassau vessels. The following is his official 
 report of the affair to his senior officer, and 
 his demand for an investigation, which was 
 denied him, because, as Mr. Fox said, " We 
 don't care for the loss of a vessel when 
 fought so gallantly as that." 
 
 " U. S. S. ' Hbtzel,' November 26, 1862. 
 
 "Sib,— I have the honor to report that I entered 
 New River Inlet on the 23d of this month, with the 
 United States steamer Ellis under my command, suc- 
 ceeded in passing the narrow and shallow place called 
 the Rocks, and started up the river. My object was 
 to sweep the river, capture any vessels there, capture 
 the town of Jacksonville, or Onslow Court House, 
 take the Wilmington mail, and destroy any salt-works 
 that I might find on the hanks. I expected to surprise 
 the enemy in going up, and then to fight my way out. 
 Five miles from the mouth I came in sight of a vessel 
 bound outward, with a load of cotton and turpentine. 
 The enemy fired her to prevent her falling into our 
 hands. I ran alongside, made sure that they could not 
 extinguish the flames, and again steamed up the river. 
 At 1 p.m. I reached the town of Jacksonville, landed, 
 threw out my pickets, and placed guards over the 
 public buildings. This place is the county seat of 
 Onslow County, and quite an important town. It is 
 situated on the right bank of the river going up, and 
 is thirty-five or forty miles from the mouth. I cap- 
 tured twenty-five stand of public arms in the court- 
 house and post-office, quite a large mail, and two 
 schooners. I also confiscated the negroes of the Con- 
 federate postmaster. I forgot to mention that the 
 town is situated upon the main turnpike-road from 
 Wilmington. Several rebel officers escaped as I near- 
 ed the town, and carried the news to that city. 
 
 " At 2.30 p.m. I started down the river, and at 5 p.m. 
 came in sight of a camp on the bank, which I thor- 
 oughly shelled. At the point where the schooner 
 captured in the morning was still burning the enemy 
 opened fire on the Ellis with rifles, but were soon si- 
 lenced by our guns. I had two pilots on board, both 
 of whom informed me that it would be impossible to 
 take the steamer from the river that night. High wa- 
 ter and daylight were two things absolutely essential 
 in order to take her out. I therefore came to anchor 
 about five miles from the outer bar, took my prizes 
 alongside, and made every preparation to repel an at- 
 tack. All night long the signal-fires of the enemy 
 could be seen upon the banks. At daylight I got 
 under way, and had nearly reached the worst place 
 in the channel, when the enemy opened on us with 
 two pieces of artillery. I placed the vessel in posi- 
 tion, at once hoisted the battle-flag at the fore, the 
 crew gave it three cheers, and we went into action. 
 In one hour we had driven the enemy from his guns 
 and from the bluff, and passed within a hundred yards 
 of their position without receiving fire. Up to this 
 time I had been in every way successful, but was 
 here destined to meet with an accident that changed 
 the fortunes of the day, and resulted in the destruc- 
 tion of my vessel. About five hundred yards from 
 the bluffs, the pilots, mistaking the channel, ran the 
 Ellis hard and fast aground. All hands went to 
 work at once to lighten her, and anchors and steam 
 were used to get her afloat, but without success. The 
 headway of the steamer had forced her over a shoal, 
 and into a position where, as the centre of a circle, we 
 had a circumference of shoal all around. When the 
 tide fell I sent a party ashore to take possession of the 
 artillery abandoned in the morning, but when they 
 reached the field it was discovered that it had been re- 
 moved while we were at work upon the vessel. If I 
 mm secured this, I proposed to construct a shore bat- 
 tery to assist in the defense of my vessel by keeping 
 the rebels from placing their battery in position. At 
 dark I took one of my prize schooners alongside, and 
 proceeded to take every thing out of the Ellis except- 
 ing the pivot-gun, some ammunition, two tons of coal, 
 and a few small-arms. Steam and anchor again failed 
 to get my vessel afloat. I felt confident that the Con- 
 
ONE OF MANY. 
 
 259 
 
 federates would come on me in overwhelming force, 
 and it now became my duty to save my men. So all 
 hands were called to muster, and the crew told that 
 they could go aboard the schooner. I called for six 
 volunteers to remain with me on board and fight the 
 remaining gun. Knowing that it was almost certain 
 death,* the rnfn came forward, and two master's mates, 
 Valentine and Barton, were among the number. These 
 gentlemen subsequently behaved with coolness and 
 bravery. I ordered the schooner to drop down the 
 channel out of range from the bluffs, and there to wait 
 for the termination of the impending engagement, 
 and if we were destroyed, to proceed to sea. Early in 
 the morning the enemy opened upon us from four 
 points with heavy rifled guns (one a Whitworth). It 
 was a cross-fire, and very destructive. I replied as best 
 I could, but in a short time the engine was disabled, 
 and she was much cut up in every part, and the only 
 alternatives left were surrender or a pull of one and a 
 half miles under their fire in my small boat. The first 
 of these was not, of course, to be thought of ; the sec- 
 ond I resolved to attempt. I fired the Ellis in five 
 places, and having seen that the battle-flag was still 
 flying, trained the gun upon the enemy, so that the ves- 
 sel might fight herself after we had left, and started 
 down the river, reached the schooner, and made sail 
 for sea. It was low water on the bar, and a heavy 
 surf was rolling in, but the wind forced us through 
 after striking several times. We were just in time, 
 for about six hundred yards down the beach were sev- 
 eral companies of calvary trying to reach the mouth 
 of the inlet in time to cut us off. We hoisted our flag, 
 gave three cheers, and were off. In four hours I 
 reached Beaufort. I brought away all my men, my 
 rifled howitzer and ammunition, the ship's stores and 
 clothing, the men's bags and hammocks, and a portion 
 of the small-arms. I retained on board the Ellis a few 
 muskets, pikes, and pistols to repel boarders. I neg- 
 lected to state that when I took possession of the en- 
 emy's ground on the 24th a salt-work was destroyed, 
 and ten boats rendered useless that were to have been 
 used for boarding. 
 
 " At 9 a.m. the United States steamer Ellis was blown 
 in pieces by the explosion of the magazine. Officers 
 and men behaved nobly, obeying orders strictly under 
 the most trying circumstances. 
 
 " I respectfully request that a court of inquiry may 
 be ordered to investigate the facts of the case, and to 
 see if the honor of the flag has suffered in my hands." 
 
 This report was indorsed in commenda- 
 tory terms by the senior officer to whom it 
 was addressed, and was further indorsed by 
 Admiral Lee with the expression of his "ad- 
 miration for Lieutenant Cushing's coolness, 
 courage, and conduct." 
 
 Shortly after this affair, there being need 
 of pilots for the harbor of Wilmington, upon 
 which place an attack was meditated, Lieu- 
 tenant Cushing undertook to make prison- 
 ers of some ; and in the course of his adven- 
 ture, at night, a couple of miles up a narrow 
 shadowy stream, he was suddenly saluted 
 by a volley of musketry. Without losing 
 a moment he turned his boats to shore, and 
 crying to his men to follow him — there 
 were but twenty in all — he had them, yell- 
 ing and shouting, up a bluff and charging 
 an earth- work, over ditch and parapet, and, 
 through the might of sheer boldness, driv- 
 ing the garrison from the fort with so firm 
 a conviction that they were surprised by a 
 much superior body that arms and valua- 
 
 * The magazine, as Lieutenant Cushing does not 
 mention in his report, being entirely exposed. 
 
 bles, and even supper, were left at the mercy 
 of the conquerors, who, enjoying the supper, 
 and possessing themselves of every thing- 
 portable, soon destroyed the earth-work and 
 returned to the little prize schooner in which 
 they had disguised their approach, and 
 which was already rolling in the heavy 
 swell of an advancing storm. Inside of the 
 angle made with the coast by Cape Fear and 
 Frying-pan Shoals, which jut out into the 
 Atlantic for some thirty miles, and where 
 every southwest gale heaps up the sea in a 
 fearful manner, in a vessel of forty tons, 
 with one anchor, a few fathoms of chain, 
 I and a lee shore alive with an angry and 
 I alert enemy — this is a situation certainly 
 not to be coveted ; and though the Hope ran 
 J under close-reefed canvas, it soon became 
 : apparent that, making as much leeway as 
 ! headway, there was no possibility of her 
 weathering the shoals at all. Meanwhile 
 a tempest of rain abated in some degree the 
 great height and power of the waves, but 
 it was accompanied by a dense fog that in- 
 folded the little schooner like a fleece, and 
 shut her off from all the world of raging wa- 
 ters round them. At this juncture one of 
 two things must at once be decided upon — 
 either to go ashore and surrender vessel and 
 crew as prisoners of war, or to put boldly 
 out across the thirty miles of stormy space 
 between the shore and the shoals, and, al- 
 lowing for all the leeway made, endeavor 
 to strike the mere vein of a channel that 
 was known to streak them like a hair. Of 
 course Lieutenant Cushing chose the latter, 
 although, in such a gale, he was aware that 
 the breakers must be very high even in that 
 narrow channel. It was, in fact, a magnifi- 
 cent game .of chance, for should they veer 
 to the right or the left the distance of a doz- 
 en rods, not one plank of the schooner would 
 be left upon another. Accordingly he fixed 
 his course, placed Mr. Valentine — the same 
 master's mate who acted so gallantly at the 
 loss of the Ellis — at the helm, and told him 
 alone of the danger. 
 
 "All at once," says Lieutenant Cushing, 
 in relating the affair, " I saw the old quar- 
 termaster at the lead turn deathly pale as 
 he sang out, 'Breakers ahead! For God's 
 sake, Sir, go about !' In an instant the cry 
 was, ' Breakers on the lee bow !' then, 
 ( Breakers on the weather bow !' and we 
 were into them. All seemed over now ; but 
 we stood at the helm, determined to control 
 our boat to the last. A shock — she had 
 struck. But it was only for a second, and 
 she still fairly flew through the great white 
 breakers. Again and again she struck, but 
 never hard. She had found the channel, 
 and in twenty minutes we were safe, and 
 scudding for Beaufort." 
 
 Lieutenant Cushing now took command of 
 a steamer mounting five 100-pounder smooth- 
 bore guns, one 100-pounder Parrott rifle, and 
 
260 
 
 HARPER'S NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. 
 
 a 12-pound howitzer, with a crew of one hun- 
 dred and fifty men — preferring this command 
 in Hampton Roads, with a good prospect of 
 engagement, to that of the fast blockader 
 Violet and a prospect of many rich prizes. 
 And fighting being what he wanted, he had, 
 one might suppose, a plenty of it, being en- 
 gaged continuously for three weeks, and nev- 
 er once defeated: taking earth -works and 
 bringing off the guns; pulling in his gig 
 from ship to ship under the muzzles of the 
 enemy's guns in full blast; taking, with 
 ninety sailors and a howitzer, the town of 
 Chuckatuck four hours after it had been 
 occupied by Longstreet's left wing ; making 
 important reconnaissances, constantly ex- 
 posed to danger — bullets grazing his skin, 
 and one shearing a lock of hair from his 
 head close to the crown — but never meet- 
 ing with any injury. At the close of this 
 duty he received a letter of congratulation 
 and thanks from the Secretary of the Navy, 
 and being ordered into dock for repairs, he 
 was sent for by the President, who compli- 
 mented him with enthusiasm in an hour's 
 interview. 
 
 After being put in condition again Lieu- 
 tenant Cushing's ship proceeded on an ex- 
 pedition up the York River, in which Briga- 
 dier-General Lee, the son of General Robert 
 E. Lee, was made prisoner ; and before long 
 he was ordered to the defense of the capital, 
 which the advance of the rebels had endan- 
 gered. It was while he was stationed at 
 Washington that the battle of Gettysburg 
 took place, where his brother fell fighting 
 in command of a battery of the. Fourth 
 United States Artillery, and Lieutenant 
 Cushing at once proceeded to the field with 
 the double purpose of procuring his broth- 
 er's remains and of working his guns, if per- 
 mitted to do so ; but the army had already 
 moved on, leaving its terrible debris of 
 horses and cannon and caissons, of count- 
 less wounded men and unburied dead, be- 
 neath the burning sky. " As I write this," 
 says Lieutenant Cushing, some years later 
 — " as I write this, rocked on the long swell 
 of the Pacific, under the warmth of an equa- 
 torial sun, my mind goes back in review of 
 the many sad scenes in those bloody years 
 of rebellion, but fails to bring tip any pic- 
 ture that is so grand, or solemn, or mourn- 
 ful as that great theatre of death." 
 
 In the following August — that of 1863 — 
 the lieutenant went on board the Shoboken, 
 which was a ferry-boat with the hxill built 
 out, fitted for work in all manner of shallow 
 creeks, but eminently unseaworthy. In her 
 he destroyed the blockade-runner Hebe, aft- 
 er a contest with a rebel battery ; and being 
 refused permission to do as much for another- 
 vessel in New Topsail Inlet, soon undertook 
 the task without permission. Anchoring the 
 Shoboken near the land late in the afternoon, 
 he led the enemy to suppose that an expedi- 
 
 tion in boats was intended six miles up the 
 river to the wharf where the prize lay ; and 
 accordingly one gun was detached from the 
 rebel battery of six at the mouth of the in- 
 let, carried up to the wharf, and pointed so 
 as to command the deck of the prize, in case 
 the remaining guns had not already annihi- 
 lated the party attempting entrance ; and a 
 watch having been set, things seemed as 
 safe as strength and vigilance could make 
 them. But the rebels had a foe to deal 
 with of whose strategic powers they made 
 no calculation, and it did not enter their 
 heads to observe that the Shoboken was anch- 
 ored four miles up the beach, and to draw 
 any inference from such anchorage. So, 
 with the night, taking ashore two boats' 
 crews in a single boat, the lieutenant had 
 them shoulder the dingy and carry it across 
 the narrow neck of land, and launch it on 
 the other side, four miles inside the inlet, 
 and entirely out of range of the battery at 
 the mouth. A night surprise is apt to be a 
 successful thing, for it has to aid it all the 
 doubt and magnitude and awe of the night, 
 which increases the attacking force to infin- 
 ity, and bewilders the judgment of the as- 
 sailed with darkness ; but even with knowl- 
 edge of this the rebels might have been 
 amazed if they had ever learned that they 
 were surprised, charged, and routed in the 
 night by six sailors, their artillery and ten 
 prisoners captured, the vessel burned, and 
 some valuable salt-works destroyed, two 
 sailors acting as pickets, two guarding the 
 prisoners, and two, assisted by the ever- 
 ready plantation hands, burning the vessel 
 and buildings. Of course the ten prisoners 
 would have been entirely too much for the 
 six men if they had only known there were 
 but six, but three of them being stowed in , 
 the dingy, while a great amount of order- 
 ing and answering passed between supposi- 
 titious boats on the stream, the remainder 
 were directed to go some furlongs up the 
 bank and report to an officer there, and not 
 to go too far out unless they wished to be 
 shot by the pickets of their captors; and 
 that being done, the lieutenant and his 
 party glided away in the darkness and re- 
 gained the Shoboken in safety. 
 
 But not to rest. It was only from one 
 thing to another with this daring spirit. 
 Finding the next day, on regaining the 
 squadron, that it was engaged with a bat- 
 tery on the shore, he threw himself with 
 twenty men into boats, assaulted the bat- 
 tery, and took two rifled guns, which he 
 got aboard his ship ; and immediately after- 
 ward, no other enemy being at hand, enter- 
 ed into a tussle with a northeast gale, which 
 so nearly had the better of him that when 
 he came in sight of the fleet again he learn- 
 ed that all had supposed him at the bottom 
 of the sea ; but he had, in truth, a curious 
 way of always coming to the surface again, 
 
ONE OF MANY. 
 
 261 
 
 and of frequently being taken for Ms own 
 ghost, as was evident, indeed, on the night 
 succeeding the destruction of the Albemarle. 
 Immediately after this gale he was detached 
 from the Slwboken and ordered to the Monti- 
 cello, the command being given him, said 
 Mr. Fox, " for distinguished services render- 
 ed," and it is not a little amusing to find 
 him, hot-headed as ever, while on shore 
 awaiting bis outfit, administering summary 
 chastisement to some men who had dared to 
 speak disrespectfully of his uniform. 
 
 In the winter of 1862 he was again block- 
 ading off the Carolina coast. This service 
 must have been on many accounts an inter- 
 esting one — the ships by day lying at their 
 anchorage out of the enemy's range, by night 
 drawing together in one long line across the 
 bar in order that none of the leaden hulls of 
 the runners, so skillfully mingling with the 
 tints of mist and twilight, might elude them, 
 and always on guard against shoal and reef 
 and the coming out of the moon to show them 
 " close under a hundred rebel cannon," point- 
 ed at different altitudes, so that one might 
 do what another failed to do. There were 
 also cruisers stationed farther out, whose 
 duty it was to determine what ought to be 
 the whereabouts of the richly laden escaping 
 steamers, taking into account the probable 
 time of escape, moon and tide and speed, a 
 look-out being always aloft to give the cry, 
 and start the chase that would presently 
 overhaul a million dollars for prize. Such 
 work, however, was not adventurous enough 
 for Lieutenant Cushing's fancy, and he de- 
 termined to celebrate Washington's birth- 
 day in a more exciting manner, and by tak- 
 ing and holding Smith's Island, close to the 
 enemy, one of the outlets of Cape Fear River, 
 # which would have been an event of great 
 importance. Failing to obtain permission, 
 through his senior officer's fear of assuming 
 responsibility, although the undertaking pro- 
 ceeded on the assumption of such complete 
 security in the strength of their position on 
 the part of tbe enemy that every precaution 
 which could stand in the way of a surprise 
 was most probably omitted, and indignant 
 with what seemed to him a lack of dash and 
 spirit where it could be of any service, the 
 young man at once proceeded to act for him- 
 self, and we have never heard of any instance 
 since the days of windy Troy to compare with 
 that night's adventure ; for as he was not al- 
 lowed the means to carry out his original 
 proposition, Lieutenant Cushing had gravely 
 assured his senior that in order to prove to 
 him how completely feasible it was, he would 
 have the honor of bringing off the Confed- 
 erate commanding officer to breakfast with 
 him in the morning. All lovers of heroism 
 will remember the passage of the Iliad where 
 Ulysses and Diomed leave the circle of old 
 kings sitting around the field fire in the dead 
 of the night, and exploring the hostile camps, 
 
 take the spy Dolon and destroy Rhesus in 
 his tent, and bring off the 
 
 " steeds 
 More white than snow, huge and well shaped, whose 
 
 fiery pace exceeds 
 The winds in swiftness." 
 
 It was quite as daring a thing which Lieu- 
 tenant Cushing now proposed to do. 
 
 He had already on a reconnaissance found 
 that the rebel confidence was so great that 
 when grazing the very face of the forts he 
 had received no challenge, and therefore on 
 this night he took twenty men, entered the 
 Cape Fear River, and pulled directly up to 
 Smithville, the rebel head-quarters, landing 
 before the hotel, perhaps twenty-five yards 
 from the fort, and hiding his men on the 
 shore. Obtaining from a negro at a salt- 
 work on the bank the requisite information, 
 with two of his officers he crept at midnight, 
 when not a sound disturbed the air, up the 
 principal street to the commanding general's 
 residence, a large house, with verandas, op- 
 posite the barracks, where, about fifteen 
 yards off, lay twelve hundred men without 
 a dream of danger. There had been a gay 
 gathering, apparently, in the house that 
 evening, and delaying till after the guests 
 had gone and the occupants might be sup- 
 posed to sleep, Lieutenant Cushing noise- 
 lessly tried the unbolted door, entered the 
 hall, glanced into a mess-room, and then as- 
 cended the stairs. But at the moment of 
 softly opening the door of a sleeping-room 
 he heard a crash and the whispered call of 
 his officer below, and quickly springing to 
 answer it, he found that his other companion, 
 whom he had left on the veranda, had, in 
 a sublime confidence that the place was al- 
 ready taken, gone strutting up and down, 
 awaking the Confederate adjutant-general, 
 who, throwing up a window, found himself 
 suddenly looking into the muzzle of a navy 
 revolver, upon which the sash had been 
 dropped with a clang, and the adjutant, es- 
 caping through a back-door, had made for 
 the brush. In an instant the lieutenant was 
 in the room, had struck a wax match, had 
 floored the remaining occupant, the chief 
 engineer of the forces there, and with his 
 pistol at the head of the man, still half 
 dazed with sleep, threatening to blow out 
 his brains if he spoke, had made him put on 
 some clothes, had learned from him that the 
 commanding general had gone that day to 
 Wilmington, had possessed himself of the 
 adjutant -general's papers and plans, and 
 was in his boat again and in the middle of 
 the stream before the outraged rebels had 
 gained their senses, or had begun to swarm 
 out and fill the air with cries and calls ; and 
 while the signal-lights were flashing to the 
 forts below, and the long roll calling to arms, 
 he was pulling quietly aboard his ship, and 
 carrying the chief engineer of the enemy, 
 snatched from the very teeth of that enemy, 
 
262 
 
 HARPER'S NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. 
 
 to breakfast with his commander — if not 
 exactly -what he had promised, at least the 
 nest best t hin g. There being occasion on 
 the following day to send in a flag of truce, 
 a note was dispatched by it, of -which a copy 
 is given below : 
 
 " My deae Genebai., — I deeply regret that you were 
 not at home -when I called. I inclose my card. 
 
 " Very respectfully, W. B. Ccsheng." 
 
 Of course, after the first burst of indignation, 
 the matter was taken very good-naturedly 
 by the offended party, but this note was de- 
 clared to be the very climax of impudence, 
 and Lieutenant Cushing was given very dis- 
 tinctly to understand that his experiment 
 could not be repeated — a gage which he had 
 no opportunity to take up until the follow- 
 ing June. 
 
 Having been undergoing repairs at Nor- 
 folk, in June Lieutenant Cushing returned 
 to Beaufort, his coaling station, and there 
 learned that a rebel iron-clad, the Baleigh, 
 had been defying the fleet after wanton fash- 
 ion, and, conscious of her strength, had not 
 only convoyed blockade-runners through the 
 intimidated squadron, but had remained out 
 of harbor for several hours, only returning 
 at her leisure after daybreak. Of course the 
 younger officers of the navy were burning 
 with resentment, and Lieutenant Cushing, 
 in the Monticello, accompanied by the Ticks- 
 burg, immediately started in pursuit, though 
 unsuccessfully, as she had taken harbor ; 
 and it was not until a letter came from Ad- 
 miral Lee himself that Lieutenant Cushing 
 was allowed the men and boats that he de- 
 sired to go upon an expedition inside the 
 bar, and to avenge the insult the navy had 
 received by boarding and taking possession 
 of the Baleigh where she lay. After dark, 
 then, one night late in June, with fifteen 
 men and two officers — Mr. Howorth and Mr. 
 Martin — he slipped into the harbor, passing 
 Forts Caswell and Holmes and the other 
 batteries, and pulled up the river with muf- 
 fled oars, just escaping being run down by 
 a tug, and passing the town of Smithville — 
 the scene of his capture of the chief engineer 
 — in safety. His object was to determine 
 the whereabouts of the Baleigh, and then to 
 return and bring back a hundred men to 
 board her. The Baleigh, however, was not 
 to be seen any where either inside the bar 
 or at quarantine, and he accordingly pursued 
 his course up stream, although a strong cur- 
 rent made it best for him to hazard pulling 
 on the side where the moon lay. Just as the 
 boat reached Fort Anderson, there came a 
 sentry's hail, followed by the shouting of a 
 dozen other voices and a quick volley of 
 musketry. Immediately the lieutenant put 
 the boat about and pointed her head down 
 stream, and giving the helm a turn so as 
 to present the least possible surface to the 
 moon's rays, he cut across into the shadow 
 
 of the other bank, where he once more made 
 his way up the river, leaving the enemy to 
 pursue an imaginary foe in the opposite 
 direction. 
 
 When within four miles of the city, it be- 
 ing nearly daylight, the crew went ashore, 
 and drawing the boat by means of their unit- 
 ed strength into a patch of swamp, they 
 masked her with branches of trees, and dis- 
 posed of themselves in the growth along the 
 bank. Here during the long summer's day 
 they saw several steamers going unsuspi- 
 ciously up and down the river, with the 
 rebel commodore's flag-ship and many small- 
 er craft, but there was no sign of the iron- 
 clad to be seen. At twilight, however, fan- 
 cying that an approaching party of fisher- 
 men in a couple of boats was a discovery 
 and an attack, Lieutenant Cushing stepped 
 from his hiding-place, hailed them, and bold- 
 ly ordered them to surrender, which the gen- 
 tle creatures did upon the spot. From these 
 prisoners he ascertained that there was very 
 good reason for his not finding the Baleigh 
 at her anchorage, nature having taken the 
 matter quite out of the lieutenant's hands ; 
 for having run upon a sand-bar some time 
 previously, the iron -clad, with the falling 
 of the tide, had broken in two by her own 
 weight, and was now an utter wreck. Be- 
 ing satisfied that this was really the case, 
 Lieutenant Cushing resolved, before return- 
 ing, to obtain all the information possible 
 concerning the batteries and obstructions 
 of the place, knowing that a movement upon 
 it was already in contemplation. Having 
 mastered all the facts of the forts and chan- 
 nels, he at last stationed himself with eight 
 men at a junction of the main turnpike with 
 two other roads, hardly two miles from the 
 city and all its swarms of soldiery and lines, 
 of fortifications. The first thing done was 
 to capture the army mail-carrier, with his 
 mail of between four and five hundred let- 
 ters, among which were those containing 
 plans of the rebel defenses, and other im- 
 portant documents; and the adventurers 
 being by this time rather hungry, and hav- 
 ing taken prisoner a wandering store-keep- 
 er, Mr. Howorth put on the coat and cap of 
 the mail - carrier, mounted his horse, and 
 started for the town to procure provisions, 
 his pocket being well lined with the Confed- 
 erate money taken from the mail ; and he 
 presently returned from his dangerous er- 
 rand — one on which detection would have 
 twisted a rope round his neck, with a very 
 short shrift — bringing in good refreshments, 
 and having mingled freely with the enemy, 
 for whom he had been obliged to exert his 
 inventive faculties after a manner that 
 would have done justice to the best ro- 
 mancer living. In the mean time the lieu- 
 tenant and his men had not been idle, and 
 they were now guarding twenty-six prison- 
 ers under the most excellent discipline, since 
 
ONE OF MANY. 
 
 263 
 
 a shout from any one of them would have 
 brought an army about their ears ; and he 
 was novr only waiting for the evening couri- 
 er with the Kichmond mail before rejoining 
 the remainder of his party and putting off 
 for sea. He decided, however, to send his 
 prisoners to the boat, and it was just as they 
 were crossing the road that the mail-carrier 
 came in sight, accompanied by a Confeder- 
 ate officer, who, drawing a swift conclusion, 
 turned about to flee. Being mounted on the 
 horse of one of the prisoners, the lieutenant 
 instantly gave chase, but to no purpose, as 
 his horse was neither of the best nor fresh- 
 est ; and thereupon, cutting the telegraph 
 wires in two places, he hastened to his boat, 
 which now lay moored in a little creek, put 
 the prisoners into the canoes which had 
 been picked up, and dropped down toward 
 the river, which was reached exactly as the 
 shadows of night darkened it pleasantly. It 
 had been the lieutenant's intention to leave 
 the greater part of his prisoners on the light- 
 house island in the river, having captured 
 them merely for the sake of securing their 
 silence ; but just as he was putting in under 
 the bank for that purpose the steamer Vir- 
 ginia came puffing close upon him. In a 
 breath the order was given for every man 
 to jump overboard and push the boats into 
 the marsh grass, and the prisoners were 
 promised instant death upon the first sign ; 
 and while every head was held under the 
 gunwale for a moment, the steamer plowed 
 by without suspicion. Having eluded this 
 danger, Lieutenant Cushing now removed 
 the oars and sails from the canoes, and set 
 twenty of his prisoners adrift in the tide- 
 way, knowing they would knock about safe- 
 ly there till morning, when they would be 
 seen and cared for from shore ; and attaching 
 to a buoy, where it could not fail to be seen 
 and taken off, a note, in which he happily 
 recalled to the memory of the authorities 
 their declaration that he would not again 
 enter their harbor, he made all haste for sea, 
 intending to pass through the upper outlet, 
 and having Forts Anderson and Fisher to 
 pass, together with the island and outer 
 batteries. It was a little below Fort Ander- 
 son that, encountering a boat-load of soldiers, 
 he captured them without ado, and learned 
 that a guard-boat containing seventy-five 
 men awaited him on the bar. This was not 
 unexpected ; and the fresh prisoners having 
 been menaced with assurance of their due 
 deserts if they attempted aid or comfort to 
 the enemy at the critical time, it was re- 
 solved by the lieutenant and his officers to 
 pull for the bar, the tide setting down strong- 
 ly, lay themselves alongside the guard-boat 
 in the bright moonlight, and, while engaging 
 the men there with cutlasses and revolvers, 
 drift with them by the batteries, which, since 
 they could not destroy them without firing 
 on their own men, would be likely to let 
 
 them pass. It was no great while before 
 glimpses were caught of a boat rocking on 
 the tide below them, and they eagerly made 
 for it, quite confident of their ability to oc- 
 cupy many times their own number of land- 
 lubbers until they should be out of range of 
 the batteries, when it would be just as easy 
 to leave their foe behind. But when still 
 some yards distant from the boat, and just 
 preparing to open a broadside upon it, sud- 
 denly four other boats darted out from be- 
 hind a neighboring point, and five from the 
 opposite island, and formed a line across the 
 bar, completely entrapping the lieutenant 
 and his men, while at the same time, going 
 short round, a large sail-boat was discovered 
 to windward. Misfortune could hardly have 
 seemed more imminent and absolute, and if 
 any thing could be done it must be done on 
 the instant. The river, as it chanced, di- 
 vided at that point round an island, making 
 two channels, one that up which they had 
 passed on the preceding night from Fort Cas- 
 well, now lying seven miles below, and which 
 it would have been madness to try, since it 
 would have brought them opposite Smith- 
 ville and the forts by broad daylight, even 
 if the southwest gale had not been blowing 
 there, and making breakers in which the 
 boat would have been crushed like a bubble. 
 Of course, then, their only hope was to cir- 
 cumvent the enemy, so that the other and 
 shorter channel might be gained, at whose 
 entrance no such dangerous sea was to be 
 encountered. Quickly giving the word to 
 his men, the lieutenant darted off with his 
 boat as if for Smithville, passing the large 
 sail-boat ; then suddenly sheering, so as to 
 escape the full moonlight (as in going by 
 Fort Anderson the night before), he was for 
 one moment invisible in the swell, and the 
 whole ten boats were after him on the way 
 to Smithville — boats manned by soldiers in- 
 stead of sailors, who were, therefore, totally 
 unaware of the impossibility of exit by that 
 channel. Seizing the opportunity, the lieu- 
 tenant boldly turned about, and when he 
 came in sight again was making for the sail- 
 boat as if he intended to board her. Of 
 course the crew of the sail-boat, unused to 
 such contests, hesitated, and started to tack, 
 but missed stays, and drifted away on the 
 tide before they could recover themselves, 
 while the crew of the lieutenant's boat, 
 bending all their strength to the oars, dart- 
 ed round in a broad curve astern the line of 
 boats, and were in the desired channel, a 
 hundred yards in advance of all the rest, be- 
 fore their object was fairly understood ; and 
 heading for the breakers on Carolina Shoals, 
 lest on another course the batteries should 
 blow them to atoms — breakers which the 
 boats rowed by soldiers could not dare 
 dream of attempting— they took the great 
 waves safely, and were presently past all 
 pursuit. The results of this expedition 
 
264 
 
 HARPER'S NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. 
 
 were so important, and the conduct of it so 
 remarkable, that we are not surprised to 
 find its leader again receiving the formal 
 thanks of the Navy Department. Indeed, 
 these official congratulations became appar- 
 ently quite a matter of course; and in the 
 following October he was earning them 
 again, together not only with the engrossed 
 thanks of the Congress of the United States, 
 and addresses from chambers of commerce, 
 boards of trade, municipalities, and clubs 
 without number, but with the more sub- 
 stantial reward of a promotion to the grade 
 of lieutenant - commander, at the age of 
 twenty-one, all in recognition of his destruc- 
 tion of the rebel ram Albemarle, an iron-clad 
 of the same model as the Merrimac, which 
 had done great damage, and met the fire of 
 hundred-pounder Dahlgrens and Parrotts at 
 ten yards range without injury. 
 
 Directly upon his promotion the young 
 hero took command of the flag-ship Malvern, 
 bearing the broad pennant of the rear-ad- 
 miral, and in December was part of the force 
 operating against Fort Fisher. Here Com- 
 mander Cushing performed what, with the 
 exception of the Albemarle affair, was in re- 
 ality the most dangerous exploit in all his 
 term of service, and one requiring a more 
 steady courage, being nothing less than the 
 buoying of a channel in an open skiff — a 
 skiff rivaling the famous little boat of the 
 battle of Lake Erie — in the midst of a 
 shower of round shot, shell, and shrapnel, 
 the work continuing for six hours, the skiff 
 frequently half filled with water by the 
 plunging shot, and its companion being sunk. 
 
 During the brief cessation of more active 
 operations against the Wilmington forts, 
 Commander Cushing offered battle to the 
 Ghickamaiiga, a rebel privateer carrying an 
 extra crew ; but the challenge being declined, 
 be drove a large blockade-runner ashore un- 
 der her nose, and returned to the fleet, which 
 on the 12th of January resumed the attack 
 upon the forts, the ships being sixty in num- 
 ber, comprising iron-clads, frigates, sloops 
 of war, and gun-boats. An assault being 
 ordered after a three days' bombardment, 
 Commander Cushing, with other officers, ac- 
 companied the force of sailors and marines 
 about to storm the sea front of Fort Fisher. 
 Marching to within a few hundred yards of 
 the embrasures, the entire body threw them- 
 selves down under the slope of the beach, 
 waiting for the signal of attack, the whole 
 fire of the navy passing with a deafening 
 noise just over their heads. Springing to 
 their feet at the word of command, they 
 moved forward steadily over the soft white 
 sand, which the sunshine made dazzling, and 
 the relief of which rendered every officer in. 
 his uniform of blue and gold-lace — -and, in- 
 deed, every man — a conspicuous target, the 
 rebels meanwhile pouring forth an unceasing 
 fire that cut down their foes in windrows. 
 
 Finding himself alone at last, just after 
 reaching the palisades, Commander Cushing 
 turned to rally his men, and was obliged to 
 cross a hundred yards of the bare sand with 
 the bullets pattering about him in such wise 
 that it seems as if he must have borne a 
 charmed life. Most of the ranking officers 
 were either dead or badly wounded by that 
 time, or else remaining under shelter of the 
 palisades till night-fall — more fortunate than 
 their comrades, who, dropping on the beach, 
 were swept out to sea by the rising and fall- 
 ing tide — he therefore assumed the com- 
 mand himself, and gathering some hundreds 
 of men with great effort, he was again pro- 
 ceeding to the assault, when requested to 
 relieve with them a regiment which went 
 to the assistance of the army on the other 
 side, which was operating to such effect un- 
 der the gallant General Ames that before 
 midnight the works had surrendered. 
 
 The first important action of Commander 
 Cushing after the surrender was the seizure 
 of the pilots Avho had so many times safely 
 steered the blockade-runners into port ; and 
 when his preparations to hang them had 
 thoroughly frightened them into obedience, 
 he agreed to spare their lives on condition 
 of their erecting the customary signal-lights 
 on Oak Island by which the blockade-run- 
 ning steamers came in and out. According- 
 ly, some four or five days after the capture 
 of the forts, the large blockade-running 
 steamer Charlotte, trusting to the lights, 
 came over the bar and made her private sig- 
 nals to Fort Caswell, and being hailed and 
 told that the signal corps had been with- 
 drawn to Smithville, came confidently up to 
 her anchorage. She was commanded by a 
 British ex -naval officer, and she carried 
 among her other passengers two officers of 
 the British army coming over to see the 
 Confederate sport, and the owners of her 
 costly cargo of arms and munitions — all of 
 whom, in great glee at the successful termi- 
 nation of their hazardous enterprise, had 
 just sat down to a sumptuous banquet, and 
 were toasting their safe arrival in Cham- 
 pagne. Suddenly the door opened, a light 
 form stepped in, a hand was laid upon the 
 captain's chair, and every one looked up in 
 amazement to meet the gaze of those daunt- 
 less eagle eyes of Commander Cushing, 
 which no one who has once seen him is 
 likely to forget. "Gentlemen," said he, 
 "you are my prisoners. Allow me the 
 pleasure of joining in your toast. Steward, 
 another bottle of Champagne !" Of course 
 there was nothing but submission, for his 
 men were already disposed about the deck, 
 and the Charlotte was his prize. There was 
 a moment or two of sullen silence on the 
 part of the discomfited passengers; then 
 one of the British officers looked at his vis- 
 d-vis, and exclaimed, in noble rage, " I say — 
 beastly luck !" To which his comrade pres- 
 
ONE OF MANY. 
 
 265 
 
 ently replied, in a voice proceeding from the 
 depths of his disgust, "Unmitigated sell!" 
 After which disembarrassment a better feel- 
 ing prevailed, and the banquet was proceed- 
 ing as gayly as the circumstances allowed, 
 when Commander Cushing was summoned 
 on deck with the announcement that another 
 steamer, the Stag, was coming up the river, 
 upon which he bade adieu to the festive 
 scene, and proceeded to make prize of the 
 second steamer. 
 
 It would be easy to go on enumerating the 
 days of this young officer by his valiant 
 deeds ; to tell of the capture of small towns, 
 of great store-houses of cotton, corn, and 
 bacon; of his examining the obstructions 
 before Fort Anderson, and going so close in 
 that one night, exasperated by the speech- 
 making and carousal there, he sent a bullet 
 whistling through the astonished merry- 
 makers, and iu consequence very nearly 
 robbed the navy of one of its brightest or- 
 naments by the storm of grape that instant- 
 ly scattered the water about him; of his 
 constructing a mock-monitor out of an old 
 flat-boat aud some painted canvas, and 
 sending her past the fort on the night tide, 
 so that the commandant, knowing the army 
 to be in his rear, and seeing the gun-boats 
 gaining the stream above, abandoned his 
 fortifications without spiking the guns. But 
 an account has not yet been given of the 
 greatest of his achievements, and it is per- 
 haps enough to close with the story of his 
 destruction of the Albemarle — a more daring 
 and spirited act than we can call to mind 
 out of the records of any navy. 
 
 The Albemarle, as it has been mentioned, 
 was an iron-clad of tremendous strength, 
 which had already defeated the whole Fed- 
 eral fleet, sunk the Southfield, exploded the 
 boiler of the Sassaeus, engaged nine foes at 
 once without danger to herself, forced the 
 surrender of a brigade, and the abandon- 
 ment of the whole region of the Roanoke by 
 the Federal forces. The government having 
 no iron-clads capable of crossing Hatteras 
 bar and encountering her, all its operations 
 in that section were rendered practically use- 
 less by the Albemarle's presence there, and 
 the expense of the squadron necessary to 
 keep watch upon her movements was some- 
 thing enormous. In this emergency Lieuten- 
 ant Gushing submitted two plans to Admiral 
 Lee for the ram's destruction. The admiral 
 approved of one of them, and sent its pro- 
 jector to Washington to lay it before the Sec- 
 retary of the Navy, and the latter, though at 
 first a little doubtful of its merit, finally au- 
 thorized him to procure the means to carry 
 it into execution ; and he immediately pur- 
 chased in New York two open launches, each 
 about thirty feet long, fitted with a small 
 engine and propelled by a screw, carrying a 
 howitzer, and provided with a long boom that 
 swung by a hinge, which could be raised or 
 Vol. XLIX— No. 290.— 18 
 
 lowered at will, and which had a torpedo in 
 the groove at its further extremity. These 
 boats were taken down through the canals 
 to the Chesapeake, one of them being lost on 
 the way, and the other reaching the sounds 
 at last through cuts and creeks and an in- 
 finitude of toils, hinderances, and ruses. Join- 
 ing the fleet, which lay at the mouth of the 
 river, the lieutenant disclosed his object to 
 his men, assuring them that they not only 
 must not expect, but they must not hope, to 
 return, for death was almost inevitable, and 
 then called for volunteers. They all stood 
 by him, and six others presently joined them, 
 Assistant-Paymaster Frank Swan and Mr. 
 Howorth, who had often accompanied him 
 on his most reckless adventures, being of the 
 number. The Albemarle lay moored at the 
 Plymouth wharf, eight miles up the river, 
 both banks of which were lined with batter- 
 ies, and held by several thousand soldiers, 
 while, at some distance up, that portion of 
 the wreck of the Southfield which still lay 
 above water was occupied by a picket-guard, 
 whose duty it was to throw up rockets on the 
 first alarm, for, unknown to the attacking 
 party, rumor of the intended endeavor had 
 in some mysterious way already reached the 
 Plymouth authorities, and every provision 
 had been made for their reception. How- 
 ever, on the night of the 27th of October, 
 the little launch entered the Eoanoke Riv- 
 er, her engine at low pressure, to make the 
 least noise possible, left behind all obstruc- 
 tions, passed within thirty feet of the un- 
 suspicious picket on the Southfield, and ap- 
 proached the wharf where the ram lay, a vast 
 black mass in the darkness. Greatly embold- 
 ened by this success, the lieutenant for a mo- 
 ment resolved to change his plan, and, know- 
 ing the town perfectly, to put in shore and 
 trust to the effect of a night surprise, with 
 which he was so well acquainted, overpower 
 those on board, get her into the stream before 
 the forts could be aroused, and fight the bat- 
 teries with her on her way down. But just 
 as he was about to carry his sudden plan into 
 execution, a cry from the ram rang out sharp- 
 ly on the night, repeated on every side, fol- 
 lowed by the instantaneous booming of the 
 great guns from ship aud shore ; and return- 
 ing no answer, the lieutenant put on all steam 
 aud made for her. At the same moment an 
 immense bonfire of pine-knots and turpentine 
 blazed up on the bank, most fortunately for 
 him, since it revealed directly the untoward 
 fact that a boom of logs extended around the 
 ram in all directions to guard her from tor- 
 pedoes, which for one second seemed an in- 
 surmountable obstacle. Only for one sec- 
 ond, though. With the next the lieuten- 
 ant had given orders to sheer off across 
 the stream, so as to get room for acquiring 
 headway and carrying his launch by the 
 force of its own impetus straight across the 
 boom, though it never could get out again, 
 
266 
 
 HARPER'S NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. 
 
 he knew. As they turned, a volley of buck- 
 shot tore away the whole back of his coat 
 and the sole of his shoe, and the man by his 
 side fell lifeless. Before the volley could be 
 repeated the launch had struck the boom, 
 was over, and was forging up under the Al- 
 bemarle's quarter, directly beneath the mouth 
 of a rifle-gun, and so close that the merest 
 whisper on board the ram, where they were 
 endeavoring to bring the gun to bear, could 
 be distinctly heard. 
 
 That must have been a terrifically excit- 
 ing moment to those on that little launch, 
 with the vast mountain of iron towering 
 above them, the fire-lit mass of foes upon the 
 shore, and triumph and eternity in the next 
 moment. Lieutenant Cushing stood at the 
 bows of the launch, with several lines be- 
 fore him : one of these lines was attached 
 to the howitzer, one to the ankle of the en- 
 gineer, one to the officer who was to lower 
 the boom carrying the torpedo, one was that 
 by means of which the torpedo was to be 
 slid under the ram, another was the ex- 
 ploding-line, which 'should pull away a pin 
 and let a grape-shot drop on the percussion- 
 cap beneath. The howitzer had already been 
 discharged. The line attached to the engi- 
 neer was pulled : the engine stopped. The 
 boom was lowered, the torpedo slid slowly 
 off and under, the air-chamber at top bring- 
 ing it up in position beneath the ram. The 
 last line was pulled, the grape-shot fell, just 
 as the rifle -gun went off — -and the rebel 
 ram and the launch blew up together, and 
 columns of water shot up and fell again, 
 heavy with dead and dying. But just as 
 Lieutenant Cushing pulled the exploding 
 line he had cried out to his men to save them- 
 selves, and throwing off arms and heavy gar- 
 ments, had struck out into the water. The 
 surface was being ripped up with shot, boats 
 were already out picking up the wounded, 
 and dying men were going down with gur- 
 gling groans around him ; but he boldly 
 made for the other bank, and was just reach- 
 ing it, when he heard the voice of one of his 
 own men in a sinking state, and turned to 
 relieve, if possible, one who had shared such 
 peril with him. Finding the man, he sup- 
 ported him with one arm and kept him 
 afloat for several minutes, when all at once 
 he went down, leaving the lieutenant alone 
 on the water, swimming with faint strokes, 
 Avith what seemed interminable distances 
 before him, but so firmly resolved to escape 
 that, perhaps, after voluntary power was 
 expended, the muscular motion still contin- 
 ued mechanically, and carried him at last to 
 shore, where he fell, with his feet still in the 
 water, and lay, not more than half conscious, 
 till morning, when the bright, invigorating 
 sunshine showed him that he had gained a 
 piece of swamp not far from one of the forts, 
 and from whence he could see the angry and 
 excited town, with a curious sense of power 
 
 in the midst of all his weakness. The sen- 
 tinel, meanwhile, was walking his round on 
 the parapet, and in order to make any shel- 
 ter it was necessary to rise and run for it 
 the moment his back was turned. Doing 
 so, he was obliged, at the instant the senti- 
 nel turned about again, to drop where, he 
 was, between two paths of the tall grass, 
 which partially sheltered him, since, being 
 covered with mud from head to foot, he was 
 hardly distinguishable from the soil, as he 
 presently found when a party of men came 
 down one of the paths and passed so near 
 him as almost to tread on his arm without 
 discovering him. Knowing it would be im- 
 possible to remain there safely for any length 
 of time, he lay on his back, planted his el- 
 bow and his heel firmly in the ground, and 
 thus hitched himself slowly along till he 
 gained the cypress swamp, a mass of bog 
 and brier, through which, barefooted, bare- 
 headed, and bare-handed, he had to force a 
 path till the blood flowed from his innumer- 
 able wounds and bruises. Entering at last 
 a clearing, a fresh danger appeared, in the 
 shape of a group of soldiers, behind whom 
 he had to pass at a distance of twenty yards, 
 creeping through a corn furrow. He was 
 now in the outskirts of a wood, and encoun- 
 tering an old negro, he gave him a piece of 
 money which had chanced to remain about 
 him, and sent him back to town to bring 
 him news of what had happened there over- 
 night ; for he wished to be sure that he 
 had done the work there thoroughly before 
 making any more effort to get back to his 
 ship ; and famished, -exhausted, and with 
 every nerve strung to its utmost tension, it 
 seemed to him that if he had failed he did 
 not care to get back at all. Vibrating, in 
 his suspense, between a fear that the man 
 might betray him and a confidence that he 
 would not, he rested there till the messen- 
 ger came back, bringing him news of the 
 complete destruction of the rebel ram, and 
 he plunged gayly into another swamp, so 
 dense that he could only direct himself by 
 the sun, emerging from its tall reeds and 
 brambles, a couple of hours past noon, upon 
 one of the deep and narrow creeks that wind 
 in and out through all those regions, exact- 
 ly opposite a fresh detachment of soldiers 
 on the other bank, and who, as fate willed 
 it, had a little skiff made of four or five 
 rough boards, with the seams pitched with 
 tar, " toggled to the root of an old cypress- 
 tree that squirmed like a snake into the 
 inky water," as he described it. Lying in 
 wait in the dense greenery and shade till 
 the men went back to their rude meal, he 
 gently slipped between the reeds and slid 
 into the water, swimming softly till he 
 reached the skiff, loosened it, pushed it be- 
 fore him round the first curve, when he 
 clambered in and paddled away for dear 
 life : paddled all day, into sunset, into twi-; 
 
JOHN AND I. 
 
 267 
 
 light, into starlight — such starlight as sift- 
 ed down through the great shadows of the 
 swamp and the cypress-lined and moss-hung 
 hanks of the creek. At last he was in the 
 Koanoke, at last in the op*en water of the 
 sound, where a swell would have swamped 
 the frail skiff, hut where the night was sin- 
 gularly still and soft — -though, as it was, he 
 was obliged to paddle all upon one side to 
 keep his hoat on the course which he laid 
 for himself by the stars. When he came, 
 after a weary while, in sight of the picket 
 vessel of the fleet, and, after what seemed a 
 longer and still wearier while, within hail, 
 he gave his " Ship ahoy !" and dropped, gasp- 
 ing, benumbed, and half dead, into the bot- 
 tom of the boat. But immediately on his 
 hail the vessel had slipped her cable, and had 
 got out her boats to take measures against 
 infernal machines, firmly convinced that the 
 skiff was a piece of retaliation on the part 
 of the rebels, and, in response to his asser- 
 tion that he was Lieutenant Cushing, loud- 
 ly assuring him that Lieutenant Cushing 
 was no longer in existence ; and it was still 
 some time before he found himself on board, 
 refreshed, clothed, and in his rigbt mind, 
 and on the way to the flag-ship, where, in 
 honor of his return, rockets were thrown up 
 and all hands called to cheer ship, even be- 
 fore the success of his expedition was an- 
 nounced. And for once valor had its due ac- 
 knowledgment and reward. 
 
 JOHN AND I. 
 
 "i^OME, John," said I, cheerfully, " it real- 
 Vy ly is time to go ; if you stay any longer 
 I shall be afraid to come down and lock the 
 door after you." 
 
 My visitor rose — a proceeding that al- 
 ways reminded me of the genius emerging 
 from the copper vessel, as he measured six 
 feet three — and stood looking reproachfully 
 down upon me. 
 
 "You are in a great hurry to get rid of 
 me," he replied. 
 
 Now I didn't agree with him, for he had 
 made his usual call of two hour's and a half : 
 having, in country phrase, taken to " sitting 
 up" with me so literally that I was frequent- 
 ly at my wit's end to suppress the yawn that 
 I knew would bring a troop rushing after it. 
 
 He was a fine, manly-looking fellow, this 
 John Cranford, old for his age — which was 
 the rather boyish period of twenty-two — 
 and every way worthy of being loved. But 
 I didn't love him. I was seven years his 
 senior ; and when, instead of letting the 
 worm of concealment prey on his damask 
 cheek, he ventured to tell his love for my 
 mature self, I remorselessly seized an En- 
 glish Prayer-book, and pointed sternly to the 
 clause, " A man may not marry his grand- 
 mother." That was three years ago ; and I 
 added, encouragingly, "Besides, John, you 
 
 are a child, and don't know your own 
 mind." 
 
 "If a man of nineteen doesn't know his 
 own mind," remonstrated my lover, " I would 
 like to know who should. But I will wait 
 for you seven years, if you say so — fourteen, 
 as Jacob did for Eachel." 
 
 " You forget," I replied, laughing at his 
 way of mending matters, "that a woman 
 does not, like wine, improve with age. But 
 seriously, John, this is absurd ; you are a 
 nice boy, and I like you — but my feelings 
 toward you are more those of a mother than 
 a wife." 
 
 The boy's eyes flashed indignantly ; and 
 before I could divine his intention he had 
 lifted me from the spot where I stood, and 
 carried me, infant fashion, to the sofa at the 
 other end of the room. 
 
 " I could almost find it in my heart to 
 shake you !" he muttered, as he set me down 
 with emphasis. 
 
 This was rather like the courtship of Will- 
 iam of Normandy, and matters promised to 
 be quite exciting. 
 
 " Don't do that again," said I, with dig- 
 nity, wheu I had recovered my breath. 
 
 " Will you marry me ?" asked John, some- 
 what threateningly. 
 
 "Not just at present," I replied. 
 
 " The great, handsome fellow," I thought, 
 as he paced the floor restlessly, " why couldn't 
 he fall in love with some girl of fifteen, in- 
 stead of setting his affections on an old maid 
 like me ? I don't want the boy on my hands, 
 and I won't have him !" 
 
 "As to your being twenty-six," pursued 
 John, in answer to my thoughts, " you say 
 it's down in the family Bible, and I suppose 
 it must be so ; but no one would believe it ; 
 and I don't care if you're forty. You look 
 like a girl of sixteen, and j r ou are the only 
 woman I shall ever love." 
 
 Oh, John, John! at least five millions of 
 men have said that same thing before in ev- 
 ery known language. Nevertheless, when 
 you fairly break down and cry, I relent — for 
 I am disgracefully soft-hearted. — and weak- 
 ly promise then and there that I will either 
 keep my own name or take yours. For love 
 is a very dog in the manger, and John looked 
 radiant at this concession. It was a com- 
 fort to know that if he could not gather the 
 flower himself, no one else would. 
 
 A sort of family shipwreck had wafted 
 John to my threshold. Our own household 
 was sadly broken- up, and I found myself 
 comparatively young in years, with a half- 
 invalid father, a large house, and very little 
 money. What more natural than to take 
 boarders? And among the first were Mr. 
 Cranford, and his son, and sister, who had 
 just been wrecked themselves by the death 
 of the wife and mother in a foreign land — 
 one of those sudden, unexpected deaths that 
 leave the survivors in a dazed condition, be- 
 
268 
 
 HARPER'S NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. 
 
 cause it is so difficult to imagine the gay 
 worldling "who has been called hence in an- 
 other state of being. 
 
 Mr. Cranford "was one of my admirations 
 from the first. Tall, pale, "with dark hair 
 and eyes, he reminded me of Dante, only 
 that he "was handsomer ; and he had such a 
 general air of knowing every thing "worth 
 knowing (without the least pedantry, how- 
 ever) that I "was quite afraid of him. He 
 was evidently "wrapped up in John, and pa- 
 tient "with his sister — which was asking 
 quite enough of Christian charity under the 
 sun, for Mrs. Shellgrove was an unmitigated 
 nuisance. Such a talker ! babbling of her 
 own and her brother's affairs with equal in- 
 discretion, and treating the latter as though 
 he were an incapable infant. 
 
 They staid with us three years, and dur- 
 ing that time I was fairly persecuted about 
 John. Mrs. Shellgrove wrote me a letter on 
 the subject, in which she informed me that 
 the whole family were ready to receive me 
 with open arms — a prospect that I did not 
 find at all alluring. They seemed to have 
 set their hearts upon me as a person pecul- 
 iarly fitted to train John in the way he 
 should go. Every thing, I was told, de- 
 pended on his getting the right kind of 
 wife. 
 
 A special interview with Mr. Cranford, at 
 his particular request, touched me consider- 
 ably. 
 
 "I hope," said he, "that you will not re- 
 fuse my boy, Miss Edna. He has set his 
 heart so fully upon you, and you are every 
 thing that I could desire in a daughter. I 
 want some one to pet. I feel sadly lonely 
 at times, and I am sure that you would just 
 fill the vacant niche." 
 
 I drew my hand away from his caress, 
 and almost felt like hating John Cranford. 
 Life with him would be one of ease and 
 luxury ; but I decided that I had rather 
 keep boarders. 
 
 Not long after this the Cranfords conclud- 
 ed to go to housekeeping, and Mrs. Shell- 
 grove was in her glory. She always came 
 to luncheon now in her bonnet, and gave us 
 minute details of all that had been done 
 and talked of about the house in the last 
 twenty-four hours. 
 
 " It is really magnificent," said she, length- 
 ening out each syllable. " Brother bas such 
 perfect taste ; and be is actually furnishing 
 the library, Miss Edna, after your sugges- 
 tion. You see, we look upon you quite as 
 one of the family." 
 
 "That is very good of you," I replied, 
 shortly; "but I certainly have no expecta- 
 tion of ever belonging to it." 
 
 Mrs. Shellgrove laughed as though I had 
 perpetrated an excellent joke. 
 
 "Young ladies always deny these things, 
 of course ; but John tells a different story." 
 
 I rattled the cups and saucers angrily; 
 
 and my thoughts floated off" not to John, but 
 to John's father, sitting lonely in the library 
 furnished after my suggestion. Wasn't it, 
 after all, my duty to marry the family gen- 
 erally ? 
 
 The house was finished and moved into, 
 and John spent his evenings with me. I 
 used to get dreadfully tired of him. He was 
 really too devoted to be at all interesting, 
 and I had reached that state of feeling that, 
 if summarily ordered to take my choice be- 
 tween him and the gallows, I would have 
 prepared myself for hanging with a sort of 
 cheerful alacrity. 
 
 I locked the door upon John on the even- 
 ing in question, when I had finally gotten 
 rid of him, with these feelings in full force ; 
 and I meditated while undressing on some 
 desperate move that should bring matters 
 to a crisis. 
 
 But the boy had become roused at last. 
 He too had reflected in the watches of the 
 night ; and next day I received quite a dig- 
 nified letter from him, telling me that busi- 
 ness called him from the city for two or 
 three weeks, and that possibly on his return 
 I might appreciate his devotion better. I 
 felt inexpressibly relieved. It appeared to 
 me the most sensible move that John had 
 made in the whole course of our acquaint- 
 ance, and I began to breathe with more 
 freedom. 
 
 Time flew, however, and the three weeks 
 lengthened to six without John's return. 
 He wrote to me, but his letters became some- 
 what constrained ; and I scarcely knew what 
 to make of him. If he would only give me 
 up, I thought ; but I felt sure that he would 
 hold me to that weak promise of mine, that 
 I should either become Edna Cranford or 
 remain Edna Carrington. 
 
 "Mr. Cranford" was announced one even- 
 ing, and I entered the parlor fully prepared 
 for an overdose of John, but found myself 
 confronted by his father. 
 
 He looked very grave ; and instantly I 
 imagined all sorts of things, and reproached 
 myself for my coldness. 
 
 " John is well ?" I gasped, finally. 
 
 " Quite well," was the reply, in such kind 
 tones that I felt sure there was something 
 wrong. 
 
 What it was I cared not, but poured forth 
 my feelings impetuously to my astonished 
 visitor. 
 
 " He must not come here again !" I ex- 
 claimed. "I do not wish to see him. Tell 
 him so, Mr. Cranford ! tell him that I had 
 rather remain Edna Carrington, as he made 
 me promise, than to become Edna Cranford." 
 
 " And he made you promise this ?" was the 
 reply. " The selfish fellow ! But, Edna, 
 what am I to do without the little girl I 
 have been expecting ? I am very lonely — 
 so lonely that I do not see how I can give 
 her up." 
 
UNIVERSITY OF N.C. AT CHAPEL HILL 
 
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