Then up rose another officer of the Governor's staff—all the officers of the Governor's staff distinguished themselves at Yorktown—went about over the steamer—and very handsome and debonair he looked in the midst of the rough-looking and ruffianly crowd, for rowdies, thieves and pickpockets were abundant—and said, "gentlemen this poor man has been robbed, he has lost every cent he had in the world. Let us make up a purse for him. I do hope you will give liberally to help this poor family." And he obtained a considerable sum and presented it to the old man who was much broken down by his loss, and accepted the generous aid with trembling gratitude.
The rain poured in torrents through the thick, black darkness when we again arrived at Yorktown. The Frances stayed a little way out to sea, and we made the trips back and forth to the shore on a tug, the John Gunby to memory dear. But we were not expected back till much later, and the John Gunby was no where to be seen. We took shelter in a little building about twenty feet square, the only depot at Yorktown, and that with no security whatever for luggage, not even a lock on the door. It is but justice to the young man who had the care of the place, however, to say that two days afterward, when a crowd of roughs invaded his premises, swearing dreadfully, and bent on taking whatever luggage they pleased from the heaps reaching to the ceiling, he swore as dreadfully as any of them, and seemed not at all averse to protecting his trust by strength of arm if need be. He was very small too.
We had great sympathy for him from having realized his trying position while we waited there on barrels and boxes during the rain. Some gentlemen came in and asked him to allow a vessel to come up to his wharf to take on a party of ladies and children who had come on shore to find board during the celebration, but had been unsuccessful in their search and had nowhere to go. For in the meantime the vessel had sailed off and left them, and there they were! They had dispatched a signal boat and waited the return of the ship. The young man said he had no right to allow the steamer to come to the wharf; it had been broken the day before by a vessel that had no right there. But he relented after a while of course. A party of two elderly ladies and one very vivacious young one, came in. They had been twice overturned in the rain and darkness and dirt, by a drunken negro driver. "We ought to have just walked off and left him the first time he tipped us over! He held the ropes so awkwardly, the one on the mule's side dropped below his knee, and the one on the horse's side above his head! If I had n't have caught the reins away from him, no one can tell what would have become of us!" "And so on, and so on," exclaimed the lively young lady with great emphasis. They sat on the boxes and barrels when we left, keeping the poor young man up, and he had scarcely had a chance to lie down and sleep at all, since he arrived at Yorktown two weeks before.
While we were waiting the gentlemen had gone out on the dark slippery piers, and shouted and halloed for the John Gunby. But it was no use. She was lost to earthly sight and sound, and the negro boatmen would not row out alone in the darkness to find her. Finally one of the officers of the staff—they every one did their country honor at Yorktown—volunteered to go with them to find the tug. They were successful, and soon and right gladly we welcomed the comfortable state-room's of the Frances. Safely settled once more, we anxiously wondered what could have happened to detain our missing friends. The gentleman shall tell his story in his own words.
"Commissioned by Mr. Sears (the steward having charge of the larder of the Frances), we were glad to reciprocate in so simple a manner as fetching him a barrel of sugar from Richmond, for his kind attentions, anticipating no trouble in taking the same with us on our return. But Virginians' ways are not our ways;
