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It is a wonderful ship, like a village, and as big as the
Paris. We drift around in the sun or the moonlight, and
when we see a light, chase after it. There is a band on board
that plays twice a day. It is like a luxurious yacht, with none
of the ennui of a yacht. The other night, when we were heading
off a steamer and firing six-pounders across her bows, the band
was playing the "star" song from the Meistersinger. Wagner and
War struck me as the most fin de siecle idea of war that I had
ever heard of. The nights have been perfectly beautiful, full of
moonlight, when we sit on deck and smoke. It is like looking
down from the roof of a high building. Yesterday they brought a
Spanish officer on board, he had been picked up in a schooner
with his orderly. I was in Captain Chadwick's cabin when he was
brought in, and Scovel interpreted for the captain, who was
more courteous than any Spanish Don that breathes. The
officer said he had been on his way to see his wife and newly
born baby at Matanzas, and had no knowledge that war had been
declared.


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