Yours very sincerely,
J. R. Jellicoe.
At this same meeting Captain Evans handed the American commander another letter which was just as characteristic as that of Admiral Jellicoe. The following lines constitute our officers' first introduction to Vice-Admiral Bayly, the officer who was to command their operations in the next eighteen months, and, in its brevity, its entirely business-like qualities, as well as in its genuine sincerity and kindness, it gave a fair introduction to the man:
Admiralty House,
Queenstown,
4-5-17.
Dear Lieutenant-Commander Taussig:
I hope that you and the other five officers in command of the U.S. destroyers in your flotilla will come and dine here to-night, Friday, at 7.45, and that you and three others will remain to sleep here so as to get a good rest after your long journey. Allow me to welcome you and to thank you for coming.
Yours sincerely,
Lewis Bayly.
Dine in undress; no speeches.
The first duty of the officers on arrival was to make the usual ceremonial calls. The Lord Mayor of Cork had come down from his city, which is only twelve miles from Queenstown, to receive the Americans, and now awaited them in the American consulate; and many other citizens were assembled there to welcome them. One of the most conspicuous features of the procession was the moving picture operator, whose presence really had an international significance. The British Government itself had detailed him for this duty; it regarded the arrival of our destroyers as a great historical event and therefore desired to preserve this animated record in the official archives. Crowds gathered along the street to watch and cheer our officers as they rode by; and at the consulate the Lord Mayor, Mr. Butterfield, made an eloquent address, laying particular emphasis upon the close friendship that had always prevailed between the American and the Irish people. Other dignitaries made speeches voicing similar sentiments. This welcome concluded, Commander Taussig and his brother officers started up the steep hill that leads to Admiralty House, a fine and spacious old building.
Here, following out the instructions of the Navy Department, they were to report to Vice-Admiral Bayly for duty. It is doing no injustice to Sir Lewis to say that our men regarded this first meeting with some misgiving. The Admiral's reputation in the British navy was well known to them. They knew that he was one of the ablest officers in the service; but they had also heard that he was an extremely exacting man, somewhat taciturn in his manner, and not inclined to be over familiar with his subordinates—a man who did not easily give his friendship or his respect, and altogether, in the anxious minds of these ambitious young Americans, he was a somewhat forbidding figure. And the appearance of the Admiral, standing in his doorway awaiting their arrival, rather accentuated these preconceptions. He was a medium-sized man, with somewhat swarthy, weather-beaten face and black hair just turning grey; he stood there gazing rather quizzically at the Americans as they came trudging up the hill, his hands behind his back, his bright eyes keenly taking in every detail of the men, his face not showing the slightest trace of a smile. This struck our young men at first as a somewhat grim reception; the attitude of the Admiral suggested that he was slightly in doubt as to the value of his new recruits, that he was entirely willing to be convinced, but that only deeds and not fine speeches of greeting would convince him. Yet Admiral Bayly welcomed our men with the utmost courtesy and dignity, and his face, as he began shaking hands, broke into a quiet, non-committal smile; there was nothing about his manner that was effusive, there were no unnecessary words, yet there was a real cordiality that put our men at ease and made them feel at home in this strange environment. They knew, of course, that they had come to Ireland, not for social diversions, but for the serious business of fighting the Hun, and that indeed was the only thought which could then find place in Admiral Bayly's mind. Up to this time the welcome to the Americans had taken the form of lofty oratorical flights, with emphasis upon the blood ties of Anglo-Saxondom, and the significance to civilization of America and Great Britain fighting side by side; but this was not the kind of a greeting our men received from Admiral Bayly. The Admiral himself, with his somewhat worn uniform and his lack of ceremony, formed a marked contrast to the official reception by the Lord Mayor and his suite in their insignia of office. Entirely characteristic also was the fact that, instead of making a long speech, he made no speech at all. His chief interest in the Americans at that time was the assistance which they were likely to bring to the Allied cause; after courteously greeting the officers, the first question he asked about these forces was:
"When will you be ready to go to sea?"