Charles Steedman was born September 20, 1811, on his father's plantation in the parish of St. James, Santee, South Carolina. He was always intended for the sea, and when he was only eight or ten years old his father had his name entered on the list of applicants for a midshipman's appointment. At the age of fourteen he made a voyage to Liverpool in a merchant-ship, and upon his return served as a sort of acting midshipman in the Revenue Service. In 1828 he received his appointment in the navy, and entered the Naval School, which was then at the navy yard, New York.
Commodore Isaac Chauncey was the commandant, and the second in command was Francis Gregory, another officer bf the Wag of 1812, who survived the Civil War. Steedman remained at the school eighteen months, and was then sent to sea in the Natchez, a 700-ton sloop-of-war commanded by J. T. Newton, who had been with Lawrence in the Hornet, when that ship fought and destroyed the Peacock in fifteen minutes off the coast of British Guiana, and who later distinguished himself with Biddle, when the same vessel captured the Penguin.
It will thus be seen that Midshipman Steedman's earliest associations were with a gallant lot of sailor folk, and he lived in an atmosphere that must have been saturated with stories of Paul Jones, and Manley, and Nicholson, and doubtless among his shipmates there were men who had sailed with men who had served under Barry, and Conyngham, and Truxton and Porter—not "Essex" Porter, but his father. And so this midshipman, who lived long beyond his three score years and ten, is a connecting link with the progeny that succeeded Dale and Mayrant, and of that period a lover of the navy has written: "I go back to the twilight time of Paul Jones, and Nick Biddle, and Preble, and old Isaac Hull and the rest with a feeling that I am in some sort their attorney before the court of last resort. The mists of the ocean envelop them. The moon beams and the stars shine for them by night. But the light of the sun, in the meridian of his glory, has failed somehow to blaze down upon the page that bears their names and deeds." And he adds: "Let us not forget the homespun sources of our being, nor the men who laid the sure foundations on which we stand."
Unlike the midshipmen of that day in other navies, Steedman's service was in peace times, and it was many years before he received his "baptism of fire." He escaped battle, but not the perils of the sea, and in his first cruise he was nearly wrecked on a reef in the Caicos Passage. The Natchez joined the West Indian squadron, then commanded by Commodore Jesse D. Elliott, who in his day was one of the characters of the service. He it was who had gotten into a quarrel with Perry concerning Elliott's conduct at the Battle of Lake Erie, which provoked a bitter controversy that has only been paralleled in our own time. Elliott was tyrannical and unpopular, and was known as "Old Bruin." "Certain particular ancient" stories of him have been handed down from generation to generation of naval officers, and have not yet altogether been forgotten.
After a short cruise in the Gulf of Mexico, the Natchez returned to Norfolk, and the midshipman had an opportunity of assisting in suppressing the Nat Turner insurrection. From the Natchez he passed to the Fairfield, cruising again in the Gulf and among the Windward Islands, having the usual experience of a midshipman in those latitudes, where society ranged from dinners and receptions at Government House to the dignity balls so graphically described by Marryat. In those days drills were few and short, and midshipmen whiled away idle hours by carving watch charms and cap visors out of tortoise shell. "O times! O customs!"
When the Fairfield returned to the United States, the Asiatic cholera was sweeping the country, and so many of the crew were affected that the ship was put out of commission, and Steedman went home on leave. Charleston at that time was in the throes of nullification, and, with his father, the midshipman took an active part in the acrimonious politics of the day; society was volcanic, and the city was a city divided against itself; the first heated breath of the coming storm was in the air. The events of the time made a deep impression upon him, and henceforth he developed, so he writes, "a strong and unalterable Union sentiment, and hatred to those who wished to break up a glorious Union. The idea of owing allegiance to the State of South Carolina never from that day to this entered my head; I never hesitated for a moment what side to take, and when I found myself in command of one of the vessels attached to the expedition to capture Port Royal in my native state, I felt not the slightest hesitation in doing my duty, and banged away at the rebels with as much vim as I should have done if engaged with a foreign foe." This is a strong confession of faith.
When the midshipman's leave expired, he was ordered to the Grampus, a small schooner of 184 tons carrying 12 guns, and in her he again returned to the Gulf for a short cruise. So far his experience had not been exciting, but he had the fortune to meet such men as Sir John Franklin, Henry Keppel and Sir Charles Napier, and such women as the famous Madame Le Vert, of Mobile.
When the Grampus came north, Steedman was ordered up for examination for promotion to passed midshipman. The distinguished Commodore Jacob Jones was president of the board, and among the members was Captain Bolton, whose name suggests a story characteristic of the man and his times, when he was in command of the Brandywine at Cadiz. It was his custom to live ashore whenever his ship was in port, and at Cadiz he had engaged a villa on the outskirts of the town. The villa was leased by an English general officer who happened to be out of town when the Brandywine arrived, and Who was not expected to return for several weeks. Naturally Bolton knew nothing of this. One day he and his staff were together on the screened veranda when a man in the dress of a Spanish hidalgo unexpectedly appeared, and in an arrogant and offensive manner said: "Whom have I the honor of meeting in my own house. I am Sir — —, late commanding the artillery in the expeditionary force to Acre, at present commanding Her Majesty's forces at Gibraltar." Bolton, not at all ruffled, replied coolly: "I am Captain William Compton Bolton, United States Navy, commanding the United States Frigate Brandywine"; then, turning to one of the midshipmen, he said: "Mr. Fairfax, find out what this person wants." Explanations of course followed, and the two afterwards became very friendly.
In December, 1835, the passed midshipman received coveted orders to the Constitution, then fitting out for the Mediterranean, and he joined her at New York. She had run down from Boston and put in to New York long enough to replace the head of Andrew Jackson, her figurehead, which it will be recalled had been sawed off one night in Boston by an adventurous sea captain named Dewey. Elliott, who had been commandant at Boston, had chosen a full-length figure of the President for the figurehead of the Constitution, and this had greatly incensed the people of Boston, who were largely Whigs. Whether the commodore had an eye to windward or not is as it may be, but he did get the Mediterranean squadron when "Old Ironsides" was slated for that station.
The cruise up the Straits was a famous one in its day, and it . lived in the navy for many years on the stories that grew out of it. Ever since the navy was cradled on the Barbary coasts, the Mediterranean has been a favorite cruising ground for our ships of war, and until very recent years we habitually maintained a squadron there. In the old sailing days the ships wintered at Port Mahon, where there was a storehouse, and in the summer they cruised along the north coast of Africa, and among the Grecian islands. They bucked the mistral in the Gulf of Lyons and the bora in the Adriatic; the levanter was a constant companion from Gibraltar and Cape de Gata to Cape Bona and Malta. When steam became auxiliary, many ports that had been only occasionally visited before were included in the itinerary, and during a three years' cruise, if a ship had any luck at all, she was apt to visit every port of interest in the Mediterranean. The climax of the European cruises was reached in the summers in the North Sea and the Baltic. In the days of sail those waters were inaria clausa to our ships, except when on special service, as when a frigate would be detailed to take aboard a minister or envoy or some highly specialized commission to straighten out diplomatic tangles at the Court of St. James or at St. Cloud. This was a custom that dated back to 1780, when the Alliance took Lafayette to France. It cannot be supposed that such voyages, although not of infrequent occurrence, were altogether agreeable either for passengers or for the people of the ship; for quarters were constricted in those days, and the generally turbulent western ocean, together with adverse winds, usually prolonged the average crossing into a question of weeks. On one of these occasions of a voyage de ceremonie, three commissioners, one of whom was Henry Clay, were sent to Holland in the John Adams. One day, following an ancient custom of the sea, they were persuaded by some midshipmen to go aloft in the maintop, and of course the topmen demanded the same toll as when crossing the line for the first time. Two of the gentlemen accepted the situation and promised grog and tobacco, but Mr. Clay became angry and demanded that the lines which had been passed across the lubber's hole be removed. He complained to Captain Angus that he had been treated with great disrespect, and, because the captain would not punish the men, Clay never forgave him, and his resentment, so it is written, pursued the captain throughout his whole career.
But to return to the passed midshipman. For three years he cruised in the Mediterranean, most of the time in the flagship. His journal of this period is very interesting; there were plenty of hard gales of wind at sea, gay times ashore, and love-making on board, especially when General Cass, our minister to France, and his family cruised to the Levant as the guests of the commodore. He writes of excursions to places toto caelo, London and Jerusalem and Paris and Cairo. He heard grand opera in Spain and Italy, and he caught a glimpse of the civil war in Portugal. He was presented to Pope Gregory in the Vatican, and he acted as second in a duel between two midshipmen at Smyrna. But over all his adventures afloat and ashore hovered the grim figure of the taciturn old commodore. Many stories told of that remarkable man were doubtless fables, or applied to him from other sources. One of them, for instance, is at least as old as Rabelais, and may be found in the adventures of Pantagruel. Commodore Elliott was undoubtedly a good seaman, but he had none of the attractions of Smollett's Commodore Trunnion, for instance, whose epitaph records that "he never turned his poop to the enemy," and Steedman relates several stories which illustrate a type of sea officer as extinct now as the famous bird of Mauritius, but which had not altogether disappeared within the memory of those still living. Steedman, as has been stated, came under his command in the West Indies, and his first experience with him was characteristic. The flagship came into Matanzas one day, and finding the Natchez there, Elliott immediately ordered her to sea. Captain Newton, however, persuaded him to allow the ship to remain long enough to give a ball the next evening, for which invitations were already out. The entertainment proved to be an all-night affair, and when it was over, no attempt was made to undress ship and all hands were allowed to sleep in. The commodore had accepted an invitation and came on board; and when he went over the side, he thanked the captain graciously for a pleasant evening. But he was no sooner on board his own ship than he signalled the Natchez: "Get under way with all dispatch." All hands were turned out, the decorations were hurriedly torn down, and the ship got ready for sea. And then, when Captain Newton signalled that he was ready, the commodore replied that the Natchez might remain at anchor.
In the duel referred to above, one of the midshipmen was severely wounded. When the commodore heard of the affair, he transferred the wounded midshipman to the crowded steerage of a small schooner, and kept him there until the fleet surgeon protested. For this act of cruelty and some other offenses, Elliott was later tried by court martial and sentenced to four years' suspension.
Once, while General Cass was on board the Constitution, the ward room gave a dinner to the minister and his family, but purposely failed to invite the commodore, which, to say the least, was not diplomatic. At the time, the ship was bound for Alexandria, and a party had been made up to visit Cairo. When the ship arrived at Alexandria, the commodore and his guests went ashore on an excursion to the Pyramids, but he ordered the ship to cruise off the port until he returned.
It was Elliott who brought home in the Constitution a number of jacks for breeding purposes. The officers were mortified and indignant at having "Old Ironsides" turned into a cattle-ship. It is related that when the Constitution went into port a donkey's head was out of every port alongside a gun, and Steedman solemnly records that at Malta, where there was a squadron of English men-of-war, at every gun fire, morning and evening, the asses set up a braying that was heard all over the harbor.
And here the irascible commodore vanishes from this sketch. He came before the public prominently in 1820, when he seconded Barron at Bladensburg in the duel with Stephen Decatur.
After the cruise in the Mediterranean, Steedman joined the Macedonian and was flag lieutenant to Commodore Shubrick, and the summer of 1839 was passed on the New England coast, Newport being the rendezvous of the squadron. At that time Newport was a favorite resort of South Carolinians and a very different place from what it is now. The cliffs were not built up, and there were only a half-dozen houses on Kay Street. One of these was the residence of the widow of James Lawrence, who lived there until her death in 1865, having survived her distinguished sailor husband more than fifty years. It may not be out of place to relate an interesting recollection of this old lady. A short time before her death, she exhibited to Admiral Luce, then a young officer, a portrait of Captain Lawrence; and losing for a moment an appreciation of the intervening years, and regarding the lieutenant-commander as a contemporary of her husband, she said: "Luce (she always addressed him thus), don't you think that looks very much like James?"
In 1841 Steedman was married, being old enough at the time to escape Lord St. Vincent's dictum, that a young officer married is damned for the service, and about the same time he became a full lieutenant, thereby following the advice, albeit by chance, of another ancient of the sea, "never to marry before you are thirty, or before you are a lieutenant." Shore duty followed for a few years, and then he went to the St. Mary's and so back to the Gulf and into the navy's share in the war with Mexico. In a journal otherwise full of incident and anecdote, it is strange that there is no mention in the memoirs of the execution on board the St. Mary's of a sailor who had been sentenced to be hanged for striking one of the watch officers. It was the last hanging at the yardarm in the navy, and following, as it did, only a few years after the execution of Midshipman Spenser on board the brig Somers, it produced a profound impression in the country. One of the midshipmen on board the St. Mary's at the time, the present Rear-Admiral Upshur tells the story in the most vivid and interesting manner, with a wealth of detail that sounds like a chapter out of Marryat.
Routine details succeeded the service in the St. Mary's, and in 1855 Steedman was promoted to commander, and in the Paraguayan expedition he commanded the brig Dolphin, of 224 tons and six 32-pounders, not much of a craft according to modern standards, but a satisfactory command in those days. The Paraguayan expedition was sent out to vindicate the majesty of the flag. In 1855 the steamer Water Witch, commanded by Lieutenant T. J. Page, while trying to make Asuncion on a diplomatic mission, was fired upon by a Paraguayan fort, and the man at the wheel was killed. The affair became the subject of prolonged correspondence, but as no satisfaction was obtained, Congress at last authorized the President to use force. An expedition consisting of 19 ships, 200 guns, and 2500 men under the command of William B. Shubrick, who flew his broad pennant on the Sabine, was sent to the river Platte in 1858, with the result that the navy 'succeeded where diplomacy had failed, and, as it happened, without the necessity of resorting to extreme measures.
When Steedman returned to the United States, war clouds were beginning to darken the horizon. There is a Dutch proverb that says froth is not beer; and until 1861 life in the navy, as a rule, had not been over-serious, but henceforward everything was to be changed. It is below the horizon of this article to discuss the questions that tried, as never before or since, the hearts of the men who bore commissions in the United States service; and it is impossible for us who live in later and peaceful times to pass judgment on those officers who went south, believing that their allegiance was to their native states. We have their experience as a guide, but they faced a new condition without precedent, and they decided according to their conscience. When the war was over, and the vexing questions had been settled by sword and gun, many of them must have recalled the inexpressibly sad words of Pascal, "s'il le jeunesse savait; si la vieillesse pouvait." General Lee's opinion on this subject is worth repeating and worth remembering: "I can anticipate no greater calamity for the country than a dissolution of the Union. It would be an accumulation of all the evils we complain of, and I am willing to sacrifice everything but honour for its preservation. Secession is nothing but revolution. The framers of our Constitution never would have exhausted so much labour, wisdom and forbearance in its formation, and surrounded it with so many guards and securities, if it were intended to be broken by every member of the confederation at will." But Lee left the Union because Virginia left it, and he felt that Virginia was his country; and I cannot see how any citizen of the old colonial states, with all the memories of and traditions of his forefathers in his heart, and all the local attachments and fellowships that constitute home, can fail to sympathize with such an attitude.' He clung to Virginia, to use the words of another, as a son clings to an erring mother. So, like Moses, "he refused to be called the son of Pharaoh's daughter, choosing rather to suffer the afflictions of his own people."
But Steedman had no difficulties of this kind. To him the path had been plain and straight for years, as we have seen. He kept the faith, without fear of ostracism by those who had been lifelong friends. There is an amusing story that illustrates the intense feeling in the South against those Southern officers who remained loyal. While operating in the Carolina sounds, Captain Bankhead, a native of North Carolina, one day received a package accompanied by a note to the effect that the sender was presenting him a family heirloom, in the hope that it, would soon be of service. The gift Was a set of silver coffin handles.
It is to be remembered that although the Southern naval officers had wonderful opportunities of affording the greatest assistance to the Confederacy by taking their ships into Southern ports, not one did so. In the "Rise and Fall of the Confederate Government," Jefferson Davis says: "The Southern officers of the navy who were in command of United States vessels abroad, under an idea more creditable to their sentiment than to their knowledge of the nature of the Constitution, brought the vessels they commanded into the ports of the North, and having delivered them to the authorities of the United States government, generally tendered their resignations and repaired to the states from which they had been commissioned in the navy, to serve where they held their allegiance to be due . . . . While we honor the sentiment which caused them to surrender their heart-bound associations, and the profession to which they were bred, on which they relied for subsistence, to go with nothing save their swords and faithful hearts to fight, to bleed, and to die if need be, in defense of their homes and a righteous cause, we can but remember how much was lost by their view of what their home and duty commanded . . . . Therefore we were without the accessories needful for the rapid supply of naval vessels."
It is not our purpose to follow Captain Steedman through the Civil War further than to note the fact of his meritorious service and the confidence he inspired in his seniors. At the battle of Hilton Head he particularly distinguished himself and won the commendation of that sea-hero, Dupont, by his valor, decision and energy. At Port Royal, St. John, Fernandina, in the tiresome days of the great blockade, and in the attacks on Fort Fisher, he was always at the front, facile princeps whenever there was danger or hard fighting. His individual service was not spectacular, nor was it in any sense epoch-making, but it was all part of a great whole which contributed to the success of the Union cause and preserved the nation's life. The work of the navy during those four years has never been properly appreciated. In the diary of Secretary Welles he constantly laments that the navy was overlooked and neglected, and mentions a New York paper which, in its account of the fall of Fort Fisher, did not even refer to the navy. The blockade of the coast—the most extensive blockade in history, during which 1000 vessels were captured, valued at thirteen million dollars receives scarcely more than a passing notice in current histories of the war, and Rhodes' History of the United States in seven formidable volumes, practically ignores the navy; he allots thirteen lines to the Alabama-Kearsarge action, and one line to Farragut's exploits at New Orleans. President Lincoln, however, was not unmindful of the sailors, and in a letter to a gentleman in Illinois he wrote, in his quaint and impressive style, "Nor must Uncle Sam's web-feet be forgotten. At all the watery margins they have been present, not only in the deep sea, the broad bay and the rapid river, but also the narrow bayou; and wherever the ground was a little damp they have made and left their tracks." Nor did Oliver Wendell Holmes forget the navy, for, referring to the action between the Monitor and the Merrimac he wrote that it was an age of fables, heroes and demigods.
Steedman began his Civil War service auspiciously by rescuing a transport with a regiment of troops on board, in a gale of wind off Hatteras, while en route with the Port Royal expedition. At the battle of Hilton Head, Steedman led the starboard column in the Bienville and received the first fire of the forts at Bay Point. After passing the point, observing that Tatnall's gunboats were approaching from Skull Creek, he headed for them, and with a heavy fire drove them back into shoal water. Almost at the same time the admiral signalled "Close order in line ahead," and then "Follow my motions with or without signal," but only one vessel, the Susquehanna, obeyed, and Steedman at full speed rejoined the fleet, and followed in the wake of the Susquehanna. When the battle was over in the afternoon, Steedman was complimented by Admiral Dupont on his conduct, but somehow the admiral did not mention him prominently in his report, and, twenty years after, a controversy was precipitated by the publication of a garbled account of the battle which put Steedman on the defensive.
His transfer to the Paul Jones soon, followed, and his next action was in the attack on Fort McAllister. In the fall of 1862 he was assigned to the command of the forces in St. John's River, and his operations resulted in the occupation of Jacksonville. In the spring of 1863, Steedman having been promoted to captain was transferred to the Powhatan off Charleston, and with the ironclads took part in Dahlgren's attack.
In October, 1863, he was ordered to the Ticonderoga and was sent in pursuit of the Florida, but the cruise was futile. From Hampton Roads he went to St. Thomas, thence to Maranhan, and so on to Granada, and finally to Curacao; but seeing nothing and hearing nothing of the will-o'-the-wisp, he returned to St. Thomas and then back to the coast.
On December 30 occurred the first attack on Fort Fisher, and on the 13th of January the second attack. In both the Ticonderoga took a prominent part. This was the termination of his war service, and the end of the great war.
Now it was all hands secure ship. The war was over, and the decks had been seriously cleared for action the last time for many years to come; the irksome days of blockading were over, the strain and fret of war were forgotten "or only remembered to make sweet the hour that o'er paid them." When next the country was to appeal to the ultima ratio region, the guns were to be served by another generation.
The war-navy was disbanded and sold and reduced to a peace footing, and the cruising squadrons were re-established, to continue so for many years. There were six, all told, the North Atlantic, and the South Atlantic (called by the old-timers the Brazil squadron), the North and South Pacific, the European and the Asiatic. Of these, the favorite was of course the European, the cruise "up the Straits" being esteemed the best of all, and then came next in popularity the North Atlantic or home station. It doesn't seem so very- long ago since the flagship of the North Atlantic—the Powhatan or the Tennessee—alternated between the farewell buoy off Tods Wharf, at Norfolk, and the anchorage off the Battery, and rarely left the coast except for a brief winter's cruise in the West Indies.
In the Mediterranean the fleet rendezvous was Villefranche, where the United States maintained a storehouse, and there the flagship could usually be found during the winter months. In the summer she cruised in the English Channel and the Baltic.
Admiral Goldsborough was given the command of the European station, with the Colorado as his flagship, and about Christmas time, 1865, Steedman joined him at Villefranche in the Ticonderoga. It was an interesting cruise, and Dr. Gunnell, the late surgeon-general of the navy, writes, "lie had with him a company of young officers of gallant war service," and adds parenthetically, "not a married man among them." The cruise was continued for two years. It was a time of great events in Europe, for the war was on between Prussia and Austria and Italy. The Ticonderoga was at Trieste when the news of the battle of Sadowa arrived, and later of the victory at Lissa, and she took part in the royal welcome to Admiral Tegethoff upon his return to Trieste.
There was not much squadron work in those days. The school of the ship prevailed, and if the routine seems slack from our modern and strenuous point of view, it must be remembered that it was fully up to the requirements of the time, and there were no ships in the Mediterranean that could beat us in sail or spar drill. These drills were constantly exercised, receiving more attention than the guns, and to illustrate the fact that there was hard work in those days—although not so much of it—it may be recalled that at spar drill one day on board the old Vandalia, when lower yards and topmasts had been sent down, only to be sent up again immediately, the mainmast was overheard to remark, "Thank God, we can't live always." In his history of the Civil War, the Comte de Paris said that our ships had won an enviable reputation for cleanliness and smartness, their bright work shone like gold and their decks were white as shark's teeth. Officers and men were smart and up to all their duties. They were keen, too, for another fight, which many people of sane mind thought not far off. The captain of the Kearsarge cruising in the Pacific was so sure of war that he kept the inside of his gun ports painted black, so that when he went to quarters and opened his ports the fact could not be readily distinguished by a suspicious enemy. But this dolce far niente cruising had advantages that are impossible now. It gave those who wished it the opportunity of continuing the education that had begun at the Naval Academy; very many men of that date studied art, music, and the languages, and while none, so far as is known, ever became maestros, not a few achieved enviable reputations as artists, linguists and musicians. These latter were exceptional of course, but in those clays nearly every one at least read, and the taste for reading and the love of good books, and more or less familiarity with the best authors were not uncommon. The result was a class of unusually cultured men. It will readily be understood what a premium was placed on the cruise in the Mediterranean.
Those were the days, too, when captains were not forbidden to have their families with them on board ship; this custom may or may not have appealed to other officers, but it is certain that it did not universally please, and Secretary Welles speaks at length of the trouble it gave the department. One officer, as well known, and in the same way, as "Mad Jack" Percival was, wrote a mock-serio-official letter to the Navy Department stating that he had no wife, but that he had a grandmother, and requested that she be permitted to sail with him, as the sight of an old lady in an arm chair on deck knitting could not fail to have a refining influence upon the crew.
Steedman was promoted to commodore in 1868 and shortly afterwards returned to the United States. His next duty was at Boston, where he remained three years as commandant of the navy yard. It was congenial duty in the midst of congenial surroundings, and the commodore found pleasure and satisfaction in coming in contact with men like Agasiiz, Dr. Holmes, and Longfellow, who made much of him, finding an interesting and attractive companion in the dignified, gracious sea-officer. In 1872 he was ordered to command the South Pacific station, where he flew his flag on the Pensacola for an uneventful year, and then having reached the statutory limit of service, he was retired. He survived his retirement for many years, which for the most part he passed in Washington in the ease and comfort of his club, and in writing his memoirs.
He was a man of considerable ability, and• his letters show not only that he was susceptible to warm attachments, but that he was also of a deeply religious nature. As has been said of President Buchanan, he was courtly, dignified and studiously correct in dress, deportment and social intercourse. He knew the best people everywhere, and, unlike Major Pendennis, he did not seek their society, but they sought his. In the closing pages of Dr. Mason's book, there is a drawing by Hinckley of the admiral and Colonel Jerome Bonaparte playing chess at the Metropolitan Club, surrounded by a group of distinguished men, which gives an excellent idea of him and some of his contemporaries.
Admiral Steedman may be regarded as a type of what is commonly called the old school. He belonged to a past generation of naval officers. Dr. Shippen of the navy, a cherished friend and shipmate, wrote of him as "a most decided person, brave as a man in his profession should be, having strong views and always doing his duty as he saw it, and requiring everybody else about him to do his. A rather choleric and peppery commander withal, but one who, whenever he found he had been in error, always made reparation at once and in public. Not infrequently has he been known to apologize upon the quarterdeck in the presence of both officers and men for having hastily found fault with some junior officer . . . . Enjoying heartily the good things of life, he always had his table as well served as circumstances permitted, and he preserved the same refinement in its appointments, whether there was blockade beef and sherry or boned turkey and champagne"; and he adds, "he was a perfect lion in voice and bravery in storm and battle."
Even as he measured up to all the standards of an officer, so also he filled the qualifications of a Fellow of All Souls College, Oxford, inasmuch as he was bene nati, bene vestiti et tnediocriter docti.