When the Naval Academy was occupied by a general of the army, in 1861, and the students and professors were transferred to Newport, Rhode Island, young Lockwood accompanied his father and family, and was placed at a public school in that place. After a brief residence in Newport, his father, being a graduate of the Military Academy at West Point, was called upon to command a volunteer regiment of Delaware troops, and having been subsequently commissioned a brigadier-general of volunteers, he was placed in charge of the Eastern Shore counties of Virginia and returned to the region of hostilities, making his headquarters at Drummondtown, in Accomac County. In this quaint and quiet place, and while a mere stripling of ten years, young Lockwood displayed his love of adventure and active life by forming a company of all the colored boys in the village, erecting earthworks in a vacant lot, and, all armed with corn-stalks and broom-handles, meeting a company of white boys in mimic war—noisy, if not dangerous to life or limb. The vanity of personal strife, however, soon becoming irksome to his mind, he turned his attention to horsemanship, and explored the surrounding shores of Accomac on a Chincoteague pony belonging to his father. He also spent many quiet hours conversing about horses and their habits with the soldiers in the garrison, with whom he was a special favorite. After a while, his father was transferred to the command of troops at Harper’s Ferry, and there a new field of adventure occupied the attention of the incipient hero. He was foremost in climbing the neighboring mountain-heights and scaling precipices, and always on the lookout for adventure along the waters of the Potomac. Afterward, when living with his family near the city of Baltimore, he displayed his activity and energy in other ways. When neighboring boys were wont to trespass on his father’s grounds and fruit-trees, he was quite as ready to defend his home as he had been in Accomac to maintain the national struggle then rending the land. And here it was that he often accompanied his father on his rounds among the military works near Baltimore, and always attracted the attention of the troops by his skill in riding. But these experiences were not deemed satisfactory for molding the character of a boy, and then it was that his father sent him to a boarding-school at Bethlehem, in Pennsylvania, kept by a Mr. Schwartz, a good scholar and strict disciplinarian. Of course, like those of all boys, his letters teemed with complaints. He was _very homesick_—a mere child separated from all he loved. In one letter he spoke of praying to God to make him satisfied. In after-years, and when suffering all the horrors of the Arctic, his mother’s prayer was that his childhood’s star might again arise, and lead his sorrowing heart to that comfort found only above. His chief grievances were a Dutch dish regularly given to the boys,