On my return from the cruise on the “Brooklyn,” I met Judge Samuel M. Breckenridge on the street one day, when he jokingly observed “Matthews, I would like to know by what right you travel four months aboard a Government vessel at its expense, when Jay Gould’s son could not have done it?” I replied: “Judge, probably you do not know it, but all my trip cost Uncle Sam was what I wore from the desks in walking on them. The Government allows an officer the same ration that a sailor gets – 30 cents a day. The officer draws his allowance in cash, and lays in his own supplies, adding largely out of his own pocket. Beside this, he furnishes his own table and bed linen, and silverware. As my brother and I messed together I paid my half, so you see I was not much of a public charge.” “Well!” said the Judge, “you astonish me, I will take back all I said, but you were a lucky man to get permission to take such a trip.”

Commodore Ingram at the exposition at New Orleans, had to entertain many distinguished visitors, and asked Congress to reimburse him, but it was refused.

While writing about Naval affairs, it will come in appropriately just here to mention a letter written by Captain Henry Glass, at the time in command of the “Cincinnati” at the Brooklyn Navy Yard in 1894. I wrote to Captain Matthews to get me a number of cap bands of various United States ships. Captain Glass obtained them at the Navy Yard and some of the children wore them. Both officers became Rear Admirals and as they are dead, I violate no code of ethics in quoting part of Captain Glass’ letter, to show how small an accident might prevent a man from becoming famous. The letter, after mentioning the badges, says: “What about the Bill?” The Catchings’ Bill, I mean of course.” (en passant, I will say this bill was to retire the older officers in order to advance the younger ones more rapidly.) “Will it pass, and will the Department support it? These are questions of some importance to me, and others of your friends. I find on working the thing out that if it passes before February 28, 1895, the first victim will be old Bunce. It will cut my head off to a dead certainty whenever it passes, and naturally I don’t like the prospect, even if I will be in company with Bruce, Dewey, Sampson, Schley, Harrison, Kautz and other men equally as good as they.

I suppose we should be resigned, as Bob Pythian will be all right and Hobbs, the great Statistician, will become a Rear Admiral certainly; but somehow, do you know, even these mercies do not reconcile me to my fate. I wonder if a proviso cannot be smuggled in to allow us superannuated Captains, who had a war record to retire as Rear Admirals when executions take place? One of the Lieutenant, who is active in the matter, said to me the other day to console me – “But you see Captain there is a good deal of selection in the bill, and people above you might be selected out, and so hasten your promotion.” There you have the underlying idea – cut others heads off – to benefit yourself. I am sick of the whole business and ready to see the Catchings Bill, or any other, killed, and out of sight.”

Faithfully yours,
(Signed) Henry Glass.

About 1897 the Secretary of the Navy sent for Admiral E. O. Matthews and said to him – “Admiral, I cannot offer you the command of the Asiatic Squadron, but if I could, would you accept it?”