thought we saw before us a long wait; but Captain Semmes very kindly invited us to crowd into his gig, saying that after she put him aboard of the Alabama she would take those of us belonging to the Georgia to our ship. On our way to the Alabama, Midshipman Anderson, the captain's personal aide, who had had a rather strenuous day of it, fell asleep. He was seated alongside of his commanding officer and his head fell on the captain's shoulder, Lieutenant Armstrong, who was seated opposite him, was about to reach over and awaken Anderson, but Captain Semmes by a gesture stopped him, saying, "Let the boy sleep; he is tired out." Had Anderson been awake he would rather have dropped his head in the ship's furnace than on Captain Semmes's shoulder, for the captain was not a man with whom any one would care to take liberties. As it was, however, Ned had the honor of being the only man who ever made a pillow out of "old Beeswax" as Semmes was called behind his back.
Captain Semmes was an austere and formal man, and, with the exception of Dr. Galt, the surgeon, and Mr. Kell, his first lieutenant, he rarely
held any intercourse with his officers except officially. He waxed the ends of his mustache (which the sailors called his "st'unsail booms") and he would pace his quarter-deck, alone, twisting and retwisting those long ends. He reminded one of Byron's description of the captain of a
man-of-war in "Childe Harold":—
"Look on that part which sacred doth remain
For the lone chieftain, who majestic stalks,
Silent and feared by all—not oft he talks
With aught beneath him, if he would preserve
That strict restraint, which, broken, ever balks
Conquest and fame . . . . "
Captain Semmes was a past-master in the art of dealing with Latin-Americans. When the Alabama entered the port of Bahia, the governor sent an aide, attired in mufti, to demand that Captain Semmes show his commission. Cap-
