him with a message for her also, but his utterance was choked. Tell her." Unable to proceed, he bent down his head and buried his face in his hands for a moment as if in prayer, for he was a devout man and a Christian.
In that moment, brief as it was, he endured the great agony; but it was over now. His crowning thoughts no doubt had been of friends and home—a beloved wife and lovely daughter[1] dependent upon him alone for support. God and his country would care for them now. He had resolved to go down with his ship.
Calm and collected, he rose up from that short but mighty struggle with renewed vigour, and went with encouraging looks about the duties of the ship as before. He ordered the hurricane deck to be cut away and rafts to be made. The life preservers were also brought up and distributed to all who would wear them. Night was setting in, and he directed Frazer, the second officer, to take charge of the arm chest and send up a rocket every half hour.
Van Rennselaer, his first officer, was also by him. Herndon has spoken of him to me in terms of esteem and admiration, and Van Rennselaer proved himself worthy of the last of these commendations.
Side by side they stood at their post, and perished together with their harness on.
After the boat which bore Mr. Payne,—to whom Herndon had entrusted his watch—had shoved off, the Captain went to his stateroom and put on his uniform. The gold band around his cap was concealed by the oil silk covering which he usually wore over it. He took the covering off, and threw it on the floor; then, walking out, he took his stand on the wheelhouse, holding on to the iron railing with his left hand. A rocket was set off, the ship fetched her last lurch, and as she went down he uncovered.
A cry arose from the sea, but not from his lips. The waves had closed about him, and the curtain of night was drawn over one of the most sublime moral spectacles that the sea ever saw.
- ↑ This daughter became the wife of Chester A. Arthur, subsequently President of the United States
