Captain Edward Horatio Faucon, who took out the Alert and brought back the Pilgrim, continued, after my father’s last chapter, to live at Milton Hill where he still kept ``the sea under his eye from the piazza of his house.’’ He was occasionally employed by Boston marine underwriters on salvage cases, going to many places, from St. Thomas, W.I., and the Bermudas, to Nova Scotia in the north.  He was a constant reader, chiefly interested in history, political economy and sociology.  He made visits, annually or oftener, on my mother until his death on May 22, 1894.  We all remember his keen eye, erect figure, quiet reserve, and old-time courtesy of manner, and his personal interest in those who come and go in ships, and more particularly in those of the Alert, his favorite ship.  He was born in Boston, November 21, 1806.  His father, Nicolas Michael Faucon, was a Frenchman of Rouen, who fought in the Napoleonic wars with distinction as Captain of the Second Regiment of the Hussars, and came to this country, where he married Miss Catherine Waters at Trinity Church, Boston.  He was instructor in French at Harvard, 1806-1816.  Our Captain Faucon left a widow and daughter, and a promising son, Gorham Palfrey Faucon, a Harvard graduate, a well-trained civil engineer in the employ of large railroads, and, like his father, interested in literature and public problems.  He died in 1897, in the early prime of life.

The third mate, James Byers Hatch, whom Captain Faucon in a letter to us called ``one of the best of men,’’ continued to command large sailing vessels on deep sea voyages with some mishaps and narrow escapes.  While in California on one of these voyages he found James Hall on board another ship at the same wharf, and in a letter to Captain Faucon written June, 1893, says, ``I persuaded him to take the first officer’s berth, and what an officer he was!!  Everything went on like clockwork.  I do not think I ever found the least fault with him during the whole time he was with me.’’ Captain Hatch lost his only son, a lad of seven, on a voyage to Calcutta. ``The boy,’’ said he, ``fell from the top of the house on the poop deck and died in about a week.’’ His wife and married daughter both died in 1881.  He himself settled in Springfield, Mass., his birthplace, and lost almost all he had saved in some unsuccessful business venture in that city, and lived a rather lonely and sad life.  In the above letter he said, ``I am now ready and anxious to leave this earth and take my chance in the next.’’ He died at Springfield soon after 1894.

Benjamin Godfrey Stimson, the young sailor about my father’s age, was born in Dedham, Mass., March 19, 1816.  It came naturally to him to go to sea, for his great-uncle Benjamin Stimson commanded the colonial despatch vessel under Pepperell, in the siege of Louisburg.  After settling in Detroit in 1837, he married a Canadian lady (Miss Ives), owned many lake vessels, including the H. P. Baldwin, the largest bark of her day on the great lakes, and was Controller of that city from 1868 to 1870, during which time the city hall was built by him at less than estimated cost.  He died December 13, 1871, leaving a widow and two sons, Edward I. and Arthur K. Stimson.  The agent Alfred Robinson died in 1895.