Glowering Bow Gun on Cruiser "Harvard" Now Improvised Coat Rack and Obscure Decoration

From active service on the dangerous seas of the Spanish-American war to an obscure exhibit and improvised coat rack, might be the thumb-nail history of the swivel gun now located in the basement of the Freshman Union.

A six-pounder rapid fire Nordenfeldt, this gun was donated to the Navy in 1898 by a group of patriotic Harvard graduates for use on the auxiliary cruiser "Harvard."

For the duration of the war, it glowered from the bow of this cruiser, ever ready to hurl six pound shells at a Spanish invader. Only once, however, did the "Harvard's" commander believe he saw an enemy ship; and then his manoeuvres were such that only armament stationed in the stern could have been effective.

After the war, the gun was presented to the Union, and has stood guard by the entrance to the billiard room ever since.

The "Harvard" was originally the "New York," one of the finest and fastest passenger vessels then afloat, with the long, graceful lines and clipper bow usually seen on yachts of that period. To save confusion with the flag-ship "New York," its name had to be changed on entering naval service. The donation of the six-pounder caused it to be rechristened the "Harvard."

Contemporaneous with the conversion of the "New York," the steamship "Paris" was bought by the government and was renamed "Yale." The "Harvard" and the "Yale" were detailed on many scouting trips together during the war.

Only one incident of interest has been recorded concerning the comparatively peaceful war career of the "Harvard," and even that does not add much glory to the proud name. On one of its reconnoitering cruises, its commander, Captain Cotton, sighted a large man-of-war off the coast of Santiago. On proceeding nearer, he made out what he took to be the Spanish flag, and turning about without wasting time for verifying this impression, steamed away at full speed for Guantanamo. The "Spaniard" also altered his course for Guantanamo, and Captain Cotton had the premonition that he was being chased.

Without weighing the improbability of an enemy coming singly to a port known to be guarded by a powerful fleet, this worthy commander blew frightened blasts on his whistle all the way in, warning no less than 15 other ships of the Spanish monster.

A few hours later, when the "enemy" steamed peacefully into harbor, the similarity between the Spanish and Austrian flags was made evident to the "Harvard's" master, and several other naval commanders, no doubt one of them the captain of the good ship "Yale," took great pains to inform Captain Cotton that Austria was neutral.