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opportunities permitted him of saying words that could be stored up by his friends. His door was besieged by callers, but all were denied except a few family relatives. I told him of the frequent callers, but he said he could not see them-it was too much effort to speak. One day I told him that an officer, who had fought gallantly under him at the West, had asked to see him. He thought for a minute, and then said, Who knows what a dying man's word may do—I will see him. The officer came to his bed, and Foote spoke to him. I know not what he said, but I saw the man's frame convulsed with emotion, and as he laid down Foote's hand he burst into tears. At one time I was doing something for him, when he looked at me and said, 'Well, and what will you do? I replied, 'I will try and follow you. He put his arm around my neck and kissed me. I shall never forget that kiss. I spoke to him of his work on board the old Portsmouth, and he rejoined that it was little he had done. He dwelt on the worthlessness of worldly reputation, and said that such deeds as the world gave him credit for he valued now as nothing; and charged me that nothing would give peace at last but the consciousness of having resisted evil. All thought of worldly vanity, praise of men, and renown had disappeared from his mind.”

He at length became more disturbed, and his speech at times grew incoherent; but he was rational at intervals. In one of these calm moments he said, "I thank God for all his goodness to me—for all his loving kindness to me.” He also said to a relative in the earlier stages of his illness, "God is dealing gently with me. He may bring dark hours; but thus far it grows brighter and brighter with me.” He continued in this way, wavering between life and death-now growing stronger, and then sinking away again, like the ebb and flow of the tide—for some days.

His faithful colored man, Brooks, toward whom he had ever

manifested great esteem and kindness, testifies to his saying, with much earnestness, on the night of June 20,“ We will have them, North and South”-repeating this several times. Brooks asked him what he meant by this. He replied, “ The colored people. Yes, we will have them;" and he then added, “We must have charity-charity—charity.”

For thirty-six hours immediately previous to his death he was probably wholly unconscious, and he gently expired at a quarter past ten o'clock on Friday night, the 26th day of June, 1863, at the comparatively early age of fifty-six. .

Surgeon Bache, of the Navy, observed with emphasis to Admiral Foote's brother, as they were standing together in the chamber of death, “ Your brother has literally worn himself out in the public service. He is as truly a victim of this war as if he had perished on the battle-field.”

But now no more of wearing toil, anxiety, and care, of the nproar and confusion of battle, of the terrible mission of war and blood-he had at last found rest. The God whom he loved and served so well—who is the God of peace as well as the God of battles—had given his beloved sleep.

CHAPTER XXIX.

HONORS TO THE MEMORY OF ADMIRAL FOOTE.

FUNERAL OBSE

QUIES.

THROUGHOUT the land the illness of the generous, self-sacrificing sailor in New York, arrested as he was by a higher hand while on the point of throwing himself into a new and desperate service, excited unbounded sympathy. His death was a shock to the nation. In fact, his death at that time was the death of the greatest man who had yet fallen. The newspapers-even in that hurried period when important events were taking place and nothing held the public mind longwere filled with elaborate notices and eulogies of the departed hero. This official order of the Naval Department was published on the day succeeding his death :

“WASHINGTON, June 27. * GENERAL ORDER No. 16. “A gallant and distinguished naval officer is lost to the country. The hero of Fort Henry and Fort Donelson, the indomitable spirit that created and led to successive victories the Mississippi flotilla—the hero and Christian sailor who, in the China seas and on the coast of Africa, as well as the great interior rivers of our country, sustained with unfaltering fidelity and devotion the honor of our flag and the cause of the Union, RearAdmiral Andrew Hull Foote, is no more. On his way to take command of the South Atlantic Blockading Squadron-a position to which he had been recently assigned, and the duties of which were commanding the earnest energies and vigorous resources of a mind of no ordinary character-he was suddenly prostrated by disease, and breathed his last at the Astor House in New York on the 26th instant.

“Among the noble and honored dead whose names have added lustre to our naval renown, and must ever adorn our national annals, few will stand more pre-eminent than that of the gallant and self-sacrificing Chris

tian sailor and gentleman whose loss we now deplore. Appreciating his virtues and his services, a grateful country has rendered him while living its willing honors, and will mourn his death.

“As a mark of respect, it is hereby ordered that the flags at the several navy yards, naval stations, and on the flag-ships of squadrons, be hoisted at half-mast; and that thirteen guns be fired at meridian on the day after the receipt of this order. GIDEON WELLES, Secretary of the Navy."

To show how events marched on in that time, and how sternly in earnest was the government, it should here be mentioned, and also as completing the official naval biography of Rear-Admiral Foote, that on the day before his death, the 25th, he was detached on account of sickness from his command of the South Atlantic squadron, and Rear-Admiral Dahlgren was appointed to fill his place.

On Saturday afternoon, the day succeeding the death, the vestibule and parlors of the Astor House were thronged by a concourse of people, among whom were many distinguished men of the nation and intimate friends of the deceased. Visitors poured into the room of death for two hours, and passed out with thoughtful and saddened faces. As the hour approached for the transportation of the remains to New Haven, a large crowd assembled in front of the hotel to witness the scene. Two companies of marines, detached from the receiving-ship North Carolina, arrived from the Navy Yard, and a great many citizens also joined the escort. Just before the body was removed, a lady stepped forward and laid a cross of white flowers and immortelles upon the coffin-lid. With dirgelike music the train moved on, the bearers who accompanied the body to the boat being Admiral Storer, Admiral String. ham, Captain Sands, Captain Drayton, Captain Mead, Captain Leslie, Captain Eagle, and Dr. Truslow. On the same day civic honors were paid by the city of New York, and resolutions were passed by the municipal government to the memory of the departed hero.

Funeral Obsequies.

381

In New Haven the remains of Admiral Foote lay at his home until Tuesday, the day of the funeral, when they were de*posited for a while in the rotunda of the State House. There they were viewed by thousands, and it was remarked that the face, while it was more worn and thin than in life, had a natural look, though with a singular expression of majesty.

Rarely has there been in this land a more impressive funeral scene than was witnessed on Tuesday, June 30th, in the beautiful city of New Haven. The day was a calm and bright June day; the stately elms of the city were in their first luxuriance of foliage; flags drooped from all the public buildings and many of the private residences; business was suspended; and the entire city and the neighboring towns, and it might be said the whole state, flowed in toward the place where the last honors and religious rites were paid to him whom all mourned. Although all felt his loss profoundly at this critical hour of the country's history, yet his life had been so pure and his task so well done-nothing to human eye imperfect or wanting in that life of obedience to duty and of loyal selfsacrifice—that it was impossible to grieve or to be sorrowful overmuch; therefore a sober cheerfulness pervaded the scene, and men's burdened hearts were purified by this grand example of a true life bronght before them, and were lifted above their personal sadness into a kind of calm joy. The human soul, even the most selfish, is so formed that it takes pleasure in goodness, and pays unconscious tribute to true worth—that worth, above all, which has in it the elements of love and sacrifice for others. At the religious services in the Center Church, an address was made by Dr. Leonard Bacon, which, after recounting the incidents of the good admiral's career, closed thus:

“ Where or how he was to die he had cared but little; he had thought much of the privilege of dying among his friends, though he had expected to meet his end in the din of battle. Around his bedside, strong

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