The Man Without a Country and Other Tales | Page 5

and the
precautions of the affair, and according to his scheme they were carried
out, I suppose, till Nolan died.
When I was second officer of the "Intrepid," some thirty years after, I
saw the original paper of instructions. I have been sorry ever since that
I did not copy the whole of it. It ran, however, much in this way:--
"WASHINGTON (with a date, which have been late in 1807).
"SIR,--You will receive from Lieutenant Neale the person of Philip
Nolan, late a Lieutenant in the United States Army.
"This person on his trial by court-martial expressed with an oath the
wish that he might 'never hear of the United States again.'
"The Court sentenced him to have his wish fulfilled.
"For the present, the execution of the order is intrusted by the President
to this Department.
"You will take the prisoner on board your ship, and keep him there with
such precautions as shall prevent his escape.
"You will provide him with such quarters, rations, and clothing as
would be proper for an officer of his late rank, if he were a passenger
on your vessel on the business of his Government.
"The gentlemen on board will make any arrangements agreeable to
themselves regarding his society. He is to be exposed to no indignity of
any kind, nor is he ever unnecessarily to be reminded that he is a

prisoner.
"But under no circumstances is he ever to hear of his country or to see
any information regarding it, and you will specially caution all the
officers under your command to take care, that, in the various
indulgences which may be granted, this rule, in which his punishment
is involved, shall not be broken.
"It is the intention of the Government that he shall never again see the
country which he has disowned. Before the end of your cruise you will
receive orders which will give effect to this intention.
"Respectfully yours,
"W. SOUTHARD, for the Secretary of the Navy."
If I had only preserved the whole of this paper, there would be no break
in the beginning of my sketch of this story. For Captain Shaw, if it were
he, handed it to his successor in the charge, and he to his, and I suppose
the commander of the Levant has it to-day as his authority for keeping
this man in this mild custody.
The rule adopted on board the ships on which I have met "the man
without a country" was, I think, transmitted from the beginning. No
mess liked to have him permanently, because his presence cut off all
talk of home or of the prospect of return, of politics or letters, of peace
or of war,--cut off more than half the talk men liked to have at sea. But
it was always thought too hard that he should never meet the rest of us,
except to touch hats, and we finally sank into one system. He was not
permitted to talk with the men, unless an officer was by. With officers
he had unrestrained intercourse, as far as they and he chose. But he
grew shy, though he had favorites: I was one. Then the captain always
asked him to dinner on Monday. Every mess in succession took up the
invitation in its turn. According to the size of the ship, you had him at
your mess more or less often at dinner. His breakfast he ate in his own
state-room,--he always had a state-room,--which was where a sentinel
or somebody on the watch could see the door. And whatever else he ate
or drank, he ate or drank alone. Sometimes, when the marines or sailors
had any special jollification, they were permitted to invite
"Plain-Buttons," as they called him. Then Nolan was sent with some
officer, and the men were forbidden to speak of home while he was
there. I believe the theory that the sight of his punishment did them
good. They called him "Plain-Buttons," because, while he always chose

to wear a regulation army-uniform, he was not permitted to wear the
army-button, for the reason that it bore either the initials or the insignia
of the country he had disowned.
I remember, soon after I joined the navy, I was on shore with some of
the older officers from our ship and from the Brandywine, which we
had met at Alexandria. We had leave to make a party and go up to
Cairo and the Pyramids. As we jogged along (you went on donkeys
then), some of the gentlemen (we boys called them "Dons," but the
phrase was long since changed) fell to talking about Nolan, and some
one told the system which was adopted from the first about his books
and other reading. As he was almost never permitted to go on