r of many deeps, who died in harness in 1871, and for whom the
flags on the shipping in New York Bay were set at half-mast. An
appreciative writer, Mr. George W. Sheldon, in _Harper's Magazine_, tells
this story to show what manner of man he was; it was on the ship
"Saratoga," from Havre to New York, with a crew among whom were several
recently liberated French convicts:

"The first day out the new crew were very troublesome, owing in
part, doubtless, to the absence of the mate, who was ill in bed
and who died after a few hours. Suddenly the second mate, son of
the commander, heard his father call out, 'Take hold of the
wheel,' and going forward, saw him holding a sailor at arm's
length. The mutineer was soon lodged in the cockpit; but all
hands--the watch below and the watch on deck--came aft as if
obeying a signal, with threatening faces and clenched fists. The
captain, methodical and cool, ordered his son to run a line
across the deck between him and the rebellious crew, and to arm
the steward and the third mate.

"'Now go forward and get to work', he said to the gang, who
immediately made a demonstration to break the line. 'The first
man who passes that rope,' added the captain, 'I will shoot. I
am going to call you one by one; if two come at a time I will
shoot both.'

"The first to come forward was a big fellow in a red shirt. He
had hesitated to advance when called; but the 'I will give you
one more invitation, sir,' of the captain furnished him with the
requisite resolution. So large were his wrists that ordinary
shackles were too small to go around them, and ankle-shackles
took their place. Escorted by the second and third mates to the
cabin, he was made to lie flat on his stomach, while staples
were driven through the chains of his handcuffs to pin him down.
After eighteen of the mutineers had been similarly treated, the
captain himself withdrew to the cabin and lay on a sofa, telling
the second mate to call him in an hour. The next minute he was
asleep with the stapled ruffians all around him."

As the ocean routes became more clearly defined, and the limitations and
character of international trade more systematized, there sprung up a new
type of American ship-master. The older type--and the more romantic--was
the man who took his ship from Boston or New York, not knowing how many
ports he mig