over the black pyramids of shot. The area of the island is now fully revealed, the granite grass-crowned bastions, the low earth-works, the verdant moat, the monotonous buildings of the arsenal, the vivid sweep of lawn before the officers' quarters, and the preeminent flag-staff with its tri-colored banner, which is drawn out by the breeze to its full proportions.

Some of the men in the garrison aver that the ghost of John Yates Beall, who was hanged here in 1865, stalks along the parapet in the moonlight.

In 1864, the United States steamer Michigan, the only guard-ship on the great lakes, was anchored off Johnson's Island in Sandusky Bay, where nearly two thousand five hundred Confederate prisoners were confined. Beall conceived the project of capturing the vessel, releasing the prisoners, and reducing the towns along the shore.

One morning in September, the steamer connecting Detroit with Sandusky was seized by twenty-four armed men, who had come on board as passengers, bringing with them various innocent-looking trunks, which contained their weapons. The crew was overpowered, and the passengers were landed. Another steamer was seized and scuttled, and the pirates, at whose head was John Yates Beall, proceeded for Johnson's Island. It had been previously arranged that a Confederate named Cole should, in an assumed character, become acquainted with the officers of the Michigan, and that while he was entertaining them on shore. Beall should seize their vessel. Cole made himself popular on board the Michigan, and his invitations to a dinner were willingly accepted. When the hour of the entertainment arrived, Beall was standing off the harbor, waiting for a signal that was to indicate

that Cole had succeeded in his purpose of drugging the officers' wine. He waited impatiently and in vain. As the signal did not come, he wished to attack the Michigan without coöperation from the land, but his men mutinied, and he was compelled to retreat. Cole's real character had been discovered at the last moment. Beall scuttled his steamer, and became a fugitive for four months, when he was captured at Suspension Bridge. He was sentenced to death by the late Governor Dix, and was hanged on Governor's Island, February 24th, 1865.

On the south side of the island, reaching from Castle William to Buttermilk Channel, a low sea-wall has been erected, and it is a favorite promenade of the nursery girls, who avert their eyes as the handsome young prisoners pass with the loads of earth.

artillery in various forms, and acres of shells, in the hollows of which some wrens have built their nests. The cannon are stacked in terraces, and stroke the ground with their sinister lengths. The shot is erected in uniform and numberless pyramids. But the sun falls softly on these implements of war, and the incidents in their history, which the clerk of the ordnance imparts to us, seem unreal. The clerk of the ordnance is an intelligent, familiar, self-possessed little man, who surveys his domain with great complacency. He has the air of one who feels that the destructive power of the implements around him is within his personal control. "It's a great responsibility," his manner distinctly says; and it really is, for, besides the care of the arsenal, the clerk has the superintendence of much perilous work.

blocks of granite deposited on the grass for future absorption in the wall are occupied by readers and idlers in an agreeable state of passivity. The children are omnipresent, and their amusements reflect the military bent given to their fancies by the surroundings. There are enough toy drums, trumpets, cocked hats, and wooden cavalry-horses to stock a shop. While the nursery maids are sunning themselves on the sea-wall, scenes of carnage are being enacted on the greensward by their charges, and victories are won in the realm of the imagination, compared with which the most brilliant pages of history are lusterless.

An immense quantity of military material is stored along the northern shore. There are dilapidated trains of battery wagons,

Accidents happen occasionally from the carelessness of the men employed. When condemned pistol cartridges are emptied, some loose powder is found attached to them, and they are cleared of it by being burned in a fire. Several months ago, a man who was engaged in this work threw a wheelbarrow load into the flames, and retraced his way to the large open bin containing the empty shells, upon which he sat down. Presumably a spark of fire had clung to his trowsers, for in an instant the bin exploded, and he was very severely burned. The clerk of the ordnance has invented an ingenious machine for emptying the condemned cartridges. It is a deep trough filled with water and fitted with a double tray. The cartridges are placed percussion

few prettier places than the green on Governor's Island. The water of the bay is dyed to a coppery yellow by the reflected light, and the sailing-vessels move along like phantoms. The band plays in the pavilion, and the most animated airs sound distant and pensive. The beauty of the scene is appreciated by many loungers, and perhaps the young officers in attendance on the pretty ladies in muslin are most susceptible to the pervading tenderness of the hour. But the green is attractive at all times; in the afternoon, the children have

MEXICAN ARMOR IN THE MUSEUM.

leries of the stores in which the muskets were stacked from the floors to the ceilings, some of them twisted and bent by service, others unused, and of the latest pattern.

Passing out of the stores, along a path bordered by cannon, we reach a superb lawn threaded by vivid walks of red brick, set with the smooth exactitude of a mosaic. When the lamps are glimmering in the summer twilight, and the foliage hangs duskily against the gray and crimson sky, there are

possession of the walks, and their voices lend another charm. No wonder that Governor's Island is considered the most desirable station an army officer can have. The garrison ladies have many fair young friends who come to stay a week or longer, and occasionally an entertainment is given, to which guests come from the city. The officers have a club-house, incipient yet, but comfortable, for smoking, reading, and gossip. The club also possesses the nucleus of a museum; and in an adjoining apartment the remains of Sheridan's famous war-horse are embalmed. Prior to our visit a little boy stood in mute admiration of the defunct charger

for a few minutes, and then, turning to his mother, said:

"When General Sheridan dies, I suppose they'll stuff him, too, and mount him on Winchester."

The island is at present the head-quarters of the Department of the Atlantic, of which General Hancock is commander. Fort Columbus is occupied by two batteries of artillery, numbering about one hundred men. Many improvements have been made under General Hancock's administration. The ferriage has been abolished, and the private boat succeeded by a government steamer with excellent accommodations. The yield of the wells being impure, Brooklyn water has been introduced by a flexible pipe carried under Buttermilk Channel, and it is proposed to bring illuminating gas to the island in the same way. Several tasteful cottages have been built for the staff officers, and the grounds are now as carefully cultivated as when the old colonial governors smoked their after-dinner pipes and lived in agreeable ease on the pretty little island.

Fort Columbus, with its five bastions, fills the center of the island, and is surrounded by a moat, in which the grass is smooth and intensely green. Beyond the sally-port, which is surmounted by an elaborate group of statuary, we enter a cool archway leading into a hollow square,

| formed by the quarters of the officers and men. There is a lawn in front and intersecting walks between. The buildings have wide piazzas, which are abundantly supplied with easy-chairs made by the convicts at Fort Leavenworth, and a soldier's life is probably less irksome at Fort Columbus than at any other post. The barracks are clean, well-ventilated, and in good repair. The ordinary rations are supplemented by supplies of fresh fish and plenty of garden produce. Among various other resources of amusement, the men have a "coterie," which gives entertainments once a month, and a theater, which is utilized for negro minstrelsy. The theater is a small apartment over the barracks; a miniature stage is erected, and the proscenium is decorated with silhouettes of cannon, shields, and eagles. When interrogated as to the available talent, one of the corporals became fervid. "Some of the men sings exquisite, and plays the pe-an-er bully!" he declared. The theater is also used as a reading-room, and a centertable is filled with a variety of periodicals.

On the sea-wall outside Castle William stands the gun which, as the sun disappears behind the deep-blue hills in the west, proclaims the end of day to the city. At the same moment the flag flutters down from the staff, the bugle calls to quarters, and night falls on the garrison at Governor's Island.