Captain Macklin | Page 4

to take a piece of field artillery by assault, but I
know I shall never be able to work out the formula necessary to adjust
its elevation.
With the exception, perhaps, of Caesar's "Commentaries," I hated all of
my studies, not only on their own account, but because they cut me out
of the talks with which in the past my grandfather and I had been wont
to close each day. These talks, which were made up on my part of
demands for more stories, or for repetitions of those I already knew by
heart, did more than any other thing to inspire me with a desire for
military glory. My grandfather had served through the Mexican War, in
the Indian campaigns on the plains, and during the War of the
Rebellion, and his memory recalled the most wonderful and exciting of
adventures. He was singularly modest, which is a virtue I never could
consider as a high one, for I find that the world takes you at your own
valuation, and unless "the terrible trumpet of Fame" is sounded by
yourself no one else will blow your trumpet for you. Of that you may
be sure. But I can't recall ever having heard my grandfather relate to
people of his own age any of the adventures which he told me, and
once I even caught him recounting a personal experience which
redounded greatly to his credit as having happened to "a man in his
regiment." When with childish delight I at once accused him of this he
was visibly annoyed, and blushed like a girl, and afterward corrected
me for being so forward in the presence of my elders. His modesty
went even to the length of his keeping hidden in his bedroom the three
presentation swords which had been given him at different times for
distinguished action on the field. One came from the men of his
regiment, one from his townspeople after his return from the City of
Mexico, and one from the people of the State of New York; and
nothing I could say would induce him to bring them downstairs to our
sitting room, where visitors might see them. Personally, I cannot
understand what a presentation sword is for except to show to your
friends; for, as a rule, they are very badly balanced and of no use for
fighting.
Had it not been for the colored prints of the different battles in Mexico

which hung in our sitting room, and some Indian war-bonnets and bows
and arrows, and a box of duelling pistols, no one would have supposed
that our house belonged to one of the most distinguished generals of his
day. You may be sure I always pointed these out to our visitors, and
one of my chief pleasures was to dress one of my schoolmates in the
Indian war bonnet, and then scalp him with a carving knife. The
duelling pistols were even a greater delight to me. They were equipped
with rifle barrels and hair triggers, and were inlaid richly with silver,
and more than once had been used on the field of honor. Whenever my
grandfather went out for a walk, or to play whist at the house of a
neighbor, I would get down these pistols and fight duels with myself in
front of the looking-glass. With my left hand I would hold the
handkerchief above my head, and with the other clutch the pistol at my
side, and then, at the word, and as the handkerchief fluttered to the
floor, I would take careful aim and pull the trigger. Sometimes I died
and made speeches before I expired, and sometimes I killed my
adversary and stood smiling down at him.
My grandfather was a member of the Aztec Club, which was organized
during the occupation of the City of Mexico by the American officers
who had stormed the capital; and on the occasion of one of its annual
meetings, which that year was held in Philadelphia, I was permitted to
accompany him to that city. It was the longest journey from home I had
ever taken, and each incident of it is still clearly fixed in my mind. The
event of the reunion was a dinner given at the house of General
Patterson, and on the morning before the dinner the members of the
club were invited to assemble in the garden which surrounded his
house. To this meeting my grandfather conducted me, and I found
myself surrounded by the very men of whom he had so often spoken. I
was very frightened, and I confess I was surprised and greatly
disappointed also to find that they were old and gray-haired men, and
not the young and dashing warriors he had described. General Patterson
alone did not disappoint me,