to naval theory, this country will some day have to fight a battle in defense of the Panama Canal.  The Pensacola yard, it is pointed out, is exposed and can be bombarded, whereas the Charleston yard is far enough inland to be safe from sea attack.  As to the channel, it is navigable for destroyers and other small craft—­though whether it would be so to a large destroyer which had been injured and was drawing more water than usual, I do not know.  The practical situation of the navy, with regard to this and some of the other political yards, is like that of some man who has been left a lot of heterogeneous houses, scattered about town, none of them suited to his purposes, and who is obliged to scatter his family amongst them as best he can, or else abandon them and build a new house.  We have been following the former course, and are only now preparing to adopt the latter, by establishing a naval base at Norfolk, as mentioned in an earlier chapter.

Charleston politics have been peculiar.  Until a few years ago the government of the city had long rested in the hands of a few old families, among them the Gadsdens and the Rhetts.  The overthrow of this ancient and aristocratic rule by the election to the mayoralty of John P. Grace, an alleged “friend of the people,” was spoken of by the New York “Sun,” as being not a mere change in municipal government, but the fall of a dynasty which had controlled the city politically, financially and socially for a century and a half.  Mr. Grace may be dismissed with the remark that he supported Blease and that he is editor of the recently founded Charleston “American,” which I have heard called a Hearst newspaper, and which certainly wears the Hearst look about it.

On January 19, 1917, this newspaper printed a full account of the ball of the St. Cecilia Society, Charleston’s most sacred social organization.  Never before in the history of the St. Cecilia Society, covering a period of a century and a half, had an account of one of its balls, and the names of those attending, been printed.  The publication caused a great stir in the city and resulted in an editorial, said to have been written by Grace, which appeared next day, and which reveals something of Charleston tradition and something of Grace, as well.  It was headed “The Saint Cecilia Ball,” and ran as follows: 

We carried on yesterday a full account of the famous Saint Cecilia Ball.  From the foundation of Charleston until the present moment it has been regarded as an unwritten law that the annual events of this ancient society shall not be touched upon.

Of course it was permissible for the thirty-five thousand poor white people of Charleston to talk about the Saint Cecilia, and to indulge in the thrilling sensation that comes to the proverbial cat when she looks at a queen.  Some of them, moved by curiosity, even ventured within half a block of the Hibernian Hall to observe from afar