gentleman and was decidedly the hero of the war, even in America. 

 When brought here as a prisoner, he received an ovation from the crowd 

 whenever he appeared. 



The defeat of Cervera put an end to a disgraceful panic along the 

 coast and especially in New England. When word came that the Span- 

 ish fleet had sailed from Cadiz, people began to excite themselves over 

 the probable bombardment of our coast and many left the seashore in 

 a fright. How little real substance there was in this artificial scare, was 

 made plain in the summer of 1917, when a German submarine visited 

 Cape Cod and sank schooners and scows alongshore. The shells fell on 

 the beach at Chatham and it was difficult to keep the spectators out of 

 the line of fire. We heard the firing at Cataumet, but nobody seemed 

 to care about it. No doubt, it would have been the same in 1898, but 

 I was heartily ashamed of the fuss made over an imaginary danger. 



Though we were only three miles from Gray Gables, it was not an 

 easy matter to get there, for the trains ran at inconvenient times. We 

 had to hire a "horse and team" (to use the curious dialect of Cape 

 Cod, where "team" means a vehicle) and drive slowly through the 

 sandy tracts, which then passed for roads. I had several talks with Mr. 

 Cleveland concerning the war and the conditions in Cuba, which had 

 led up to it. He told me some astonishing stories concerning the friendly 

 manner in which the rebels and the Spaniards had divided the money 

 paid for protection (blackmail, no less) by the sugar plantations, but I 

 have forgotten the details. 



Much more distinctly do I remember his deep indignation over some 

 political appointments to commands in the Army. I said: "They don't 

 seem to remember that they are throwing away men's lives by making 

 such appointments," and he answered: "I don't comprehend it; how 

 can they do it?" One day, when news was coming in of the friction be- 

 tween Admiral Dewey and the German Admiral von Diedrichs before 

 Manila, I went over to Gray Gables by train and found calhng there 

 Mr. Richard Olney, who was Secretary of State in Mr. Cleveland's last 

 Cabinet. We came away together and walked through the woods to 

 the little railroad station. I said: "Mr. Olney, I would give ten years 

 of my life to fire the first gun at that German fleet." He gave me a 

 hearty clap on the shoulder and replied: "My boy! I'm delighted to 

 find some one who feels exactly as I do." 



In the autumn, after settling my family at Brookline, I returned to 

 Princeton and took a room in what was then the new house of the 

 Ivy Club, living there throughout the academic year. My relations with 



