mtm 
 
 mtammm 
 
 YANKEE SHIPS 
 
 AND 
 
 YANKEE SAILORS 
 
THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
YANKEE SHIPS AND YANKEE 
 SAILORS:— TALES OF i8l2 
 
'T^^i^o 
 
"There was a figure crawling up below him. 
 
Yankee Ships and Yankee 
 Sailors : — Tales of 1812 
 
 ^ ^ ■>; ■• • ■' "" ■" >' 
 1 > _ ' , , , ' 5 
 
 By 
 
 James Barnes 
 
 Author of "Naval Engagements of the War of 1812'* 
 " A Loyal Traitor," "For King or Country," etc. 
 
 With Numerous Illustrations by 
 R. F. Zogbaum and Carlton T. Chapman 
 
 New York 
 The Macmillan Company 
 
 London: Macmillan & Co., Ltd. 
 1906 
 
 All rights reserved 
 
« • e • • 
 
 • . •• • 
 
 » « » • 
 
 Copyright, 1897, 
 By The Macmillan Company. 
 
 Set up and electrotyped Octob«r, 1897. Reprinted November, 
 1897 ; October, 1898 ; November, 1899 ; February, 1905. 
 New edition September, 1906. 
 
 Norivood Press 
 
 J. S. Cushing & Co. — Berwick & Smith 
 
 Norwood Mass. U. S. A. 
 
 GIF7 
 
To my Brother 
 
 ^5b 
 
 278 
 
PREFACE 
 
 IN presenting this volume of " Tales of 1812" 
 it is not the intention of the author to give 
 detailed accounts of actions at sea or to present 
 biographical sketches of well-known heroes; he 
 wishes but to tell something of the ships that fought 
 the battles, whose names are inseparably connected 
 with a glorious past, and to relate incidents con- 
 nected with the Yankee sailors who composed their 
 crews — "A Yankee Ship and a Yankee Crew " — 
 thus runs the old song ; it is to exploit both in a 
 measure that is the intention of this book. Brave 
 fellows, these old-time Jackies were. Their day- 
 has gone by with the departed day also, of the 
 storm-along captains, the men who carried sail in all 
 sorts of weather, who took their vessels through 
 dangerous passages unmarked by buoys, with only 
 the fickle wind to drive them, who sailed into the 
 enemy's cruising-grounds, and counting on the good 
 Yankee pine and live oak, had perilous escapes and 
 adventures which fiction cannot exaggerate. It stirs 
 one's blood to read of these. Surely, it will not 
 arouse a hatred for by-gone enemies, to hark back 
 
 to them. 
 
 vii 
 
Vlll 
 
 Preface 
 
 The incidents made use of in the following pages 
 are historical, or at least authentic — some may 
 perhaps come under the head of tradition. Tradi- 
 tion is historical rumor; it may be proved by inves- 
 tigation to be actual fact, or it may be accepted at its 
 face value, on account of its probability. To inves- 
 tigate, one is led to break open and dissect and some- 
 times we destroy a wealth of sentiment in the pro- 
 ceeding ; by casting aside tradition that is harmless 
 we destroy the color of history ; we may lose its side 
 lights and shadows that give vividness and beauty 
 to the whole effect. It has not been a spirit of 
 research into the science of history, or a chance for 
 deep delving into figures and records, that has 
 animated the author, although he has drawn upon 
 state papers for material, and all correspondence and 
 important references can be vouched for. He has 
 endeavored to refreshen the colors by removing the 
 dust that may have settled. He has touched the 
 fragile bric-a-brac of tradition with the feather duster 
 of investigation. There is sufficient excuse for 
 everything that is written in this book. Facts are 
 not lacking to prove much here to be true. It will 
 not confuse our historical knowledge to accept it 
 thus. 
 
 We can draw accurate conclusions as to what kind 
 of men these fine old fellows were ; how they 
 looked ; how they spoke and acted. Their deeds 
 
Preface ix 
 
 are part of the nation's record, and their ships exist 
 now in the shape of a few old hulls. We can mark 
 how carefully and strongly they were constructed ; 
 we can imagine them swarming with men and quiv- 
 ering beneath the thunder of broadsides. The 
 author has tried to put the sailor back upon his ship 
 again. Here we have the old tales now retold ; 
 retold by one who loves to Hsten to them, there- 
 fore to talk about them. This is his prologue to 
 the telling, and that is all there is to it. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 Allen, of the Chesapeake 
 Reuben James, Able Seaman 
 The Men behind the Times 
 The Coward 
 The Scapegoat . 
 The Loss of the Fixen 
 In the Harbor of Fayal 
 The Escape of Symington 
 The Narragansett 
 Fighting Stewart 
 Two Duels • 
 Dartmoor 
 
 The Rival Life-Savers 
 Random Adventures 
 
 Page 
 I 
 
 33 
 
 51 
 
 87 
 109 
 
 125 
 H7 
 171 
 
 195 
 215 
 
 235 
 259 
 
 271 
 
List of Illustrations 
 
 " It was Lieutenant Allen ! *' . • 
 
 ** Reuben James sprang forward " 
 
 ** * What d'ye mean by attackin' a peaceful whaler ? 
 
 ** Carefully he lowered away" 
 
 *' * Stay here no longer — though I would have you with 
 
 me 
 
 '< Everything was done that good seamanship could 
 
 " There was a figure crawling up below him " 
 
 «« She came about like a peg top " 
 
 «* Over fence and hedge " . 
 
 " A discussion that grew more heated every moment 
 
 " « I observed it,' s^d the Lieutenant " . 
 
 " The deadly volley " .... 
 
 " « Now we have him, lads ! ' '* . 
 
 direct 
 
 Opposite Page 
 
 . i8 
 
 30 
 47 
 79 
 
 104 
 120 
 141 
 167 
 190 
 212 
 225 
 258 
 268 
 
ALLEN, OF THE CHESAPEAKE 
 
ALLEN, OF THE CHESAPEAKE 
 
 GIVE a ship an unlucky name, and it will 
 last throughout the whole of her career. 
 A sailor is proverbially superstitious, and 
 he clings jealously to tradition. 
 
 It is told that when the frigate Chesapeake was 
 launched she stuck fast on the ways, and did not 
 reach the water until the following day, which was 
 Friday. Although she was a fine vessel to look at, 
 she grounded upon the bar upon her first attempt 
 to sail, and, when once free, behaved herself in such 
 a lubberly fashion that those who witnessed her 
 starting out declared she was bewitched. Even 
 after many changes had been made in the length of 
 her masts, in the weight of spars, and the cut of 
 sails, still she was considered by many a failure. 
 And, although her sailing qualities improved as 
 time went on, yet her bad name stuck to her, as 
 bad names will. 
 
 Given this drawback, the unlucky captain of such 
 a craft finds it difficult to recruit a proper crew, and 
 must often be content with green hands, or the 
 riffraff disdained by other ships' masters. 
 
 3 
 
4 Allen, of the Chesapeake 
 
 Comitiodore James'iBarron, who had been ordered 
 to the Chesapec^key'iN.?iS.'a.hr'?iVQ, officer. He had suc- 
 ceeded the fieppery Gon^mo'dore Preble in command 
 of the fleet that had so successfully negotiated the 
 operations before Tripoli, and there he had won for 
 himself a name and reputation. Nevertheless, he 
 was not entirely popular with his officers. They 
 failed to find in him the graciousness of manner and 
 deportment, the strict adherence to the lines of duty, 
 and yet the kindliness of thought and conduct that 
 distinguished young Captain Bainbridge ; and they 
 missed, strange to say, the iron hand and stern rule 
 of Preble, the martinet. 
 
 Just before sailing from the Capes to relieve the 
 Constitution on the Mediterranean station, the Chesa- 
 peake had recruited, from Delaware and Maryland, a 
 green crew. Not above fifty of her complement 
 were men-of-warsmen. Perhaps one hundred more 
 had seen service in deep-sea craft, and had made 
 long cruises ; but the rest, numbering probably one 
 hundred and fifty, were longshoremen or landsmen. 
 Lying inside the mouth of Chesapeake Bay were 
 several British men-of-war. As was usual when in 
 American ports, they were compelled to watch their 
 crews most closely, for the higher pay and the better 
 treatment, which cannot be denied, had tempted 
 many an impressed seaman to leave his ship, and 
 take refuge under the American flag. 
 
Allen, of the Chesapeake 5 
 
 It was claimed by VIce-Admiral Berkeley in com- 
 mand of the English fleet, that four British sailors 
 had deserted from the Melampus, and joined Bar- 
 ron's frigate. The following correspondence passed 
 between Robert Smith, the Secretary of the Navy 
 at Washington, and Commodore Barron, in relation 
 to the matter. It explains in the best way possible, 
 how affairs stood at the outset. 
 
 Washington, April 6, 1807. 
 To Commodore "James Barron: — 
 
 Sir : It has been represented to me that William Ware, 
 Daniel Martin, John Strachan, John Little, and others, 
 deserters from a British ship of war at Norfolk, have been 
 entered by the recruiting officer at that place for our ser- 
 vice. You will be pleased to make full inquiry relative to 
 these men (especially, if they are American citizens), and 
 inform me of the result. You will immediately direct the 
 recruiting officer in no case to enter deserters from Brit- 
 ish ships of war, 
 
 RoBT. Smith. 
 
 To this letter Commodore Barron made haste to 
 reply, and the following is taken verbatim from his 
 note to the Secretary : — 
 
 "William Ware was pressed from on board the brig 
 Neptune^ Captain Crafts, by the British frigate, Melampus^ 
 in the Bay of Biscay (in 1805). ... He is a native 
 American, born at Bruce's Mills, on Pipe Creek, in the 
 
6 Allen, of the Chesapeake 
 
 county of Frederick, Maryland, and served his time at said 
 mills. He also lived at Ellicot's Mills, near Baltimore, and 
 drove a waggon several years between Hagerstown and 
 Baltimore. He also served eighteen months on board the 
 U, S. frigate, Chesapeake.^ under the command of Captain 
 Morris and Captain J. Barron. He is an Indian-looking 
 man. 
 
 " Daniel Martin was impressed at the same time and 
 place J a native of Westport, in Massachusetts, about thirty 
 miles to the eastward of Newport, Rhode Island ; served 
 his time out of New York with Captain Marrowby of the 
 Caledonia; refers to Mr. Benjamin Davis, merchant, and 
 Mr. Benjamin Corse, of Westport. He is a colored man. 
 
 "John Strachan, born in Queen Ann's County, Mary- 
 land, between Centreville and Queenstown; sailed in the 
 brigantine Martha Bland., Captain Wyvill, from Norfolk 
 to Dublin, and from thence to Liverpool. He then left 
 the vessel and shipped on board an English Guineaman ; 
 he was impressed on board the Melampus.^ off Cane Finis- 
 terre ; to better his condition he consented to enter, being 
 determined to make his escape when opportunity offered ; 
 he served on board said frigate two years ; refers to Mr. 
 
 John Price and Pratt, Esq., on Kent Island, who 
 
 know his relatives. He is a white man, about five feet 
 seven inches high. 
 
 " William Ware and John Strachan have protections.^ 
 Daniel Martin says he lost his after leaving the frigate. 
 
 " John Little, alias Francis and Ambrose Watts, escaped 
 from the Melampus at the same time, are known to the 
 
 1 Papers proving their American citizenship. 
 
Allen, of the Chesapeake 7 
 
 above persons to be Americans, but have not been entered 
 by my recruiting officer." 
 
 The foregoing proves beyond all manner of doubt 
 what ground Commodore Barron had in taking the 
 stand he did further on in the proceedings. But 
 Admiral Berkeley was a very proud, obstinate man. 
 His feelings had been hurt by the refusal of the 
 Yankee commodore to give up his men, and he 
 bided his time. 
 
 On Monday, June 22, 1807, the Chesapeake put 
 to sea with her ill-assorted and undisciplined crew. 
 In the harbor of Lynnhaven lay the British squadron 
 under the command of Commodore Douglass, act- 
 ing under the orders of Vice- Admiral Berkeley. It 
 consisted of the Bellona^ seventy-four, the Triumph^ 
 seventy-four, the Leopard, fifty, and the Melampus, 
 thirty-eight. Why it was that the Leopard was se- 
 lected for the work which was to follow, is easy to 
 surmise. Vice-Admiral Berkelev had determined, 
 at all hazards, to search the American vessel to as- 
 certain if she had in her complement those " British 
 seamen " who had deserted from the fleet. Barron's 
 refusal to allow a search made of his vessel while 
 she was in port had been backed up by the United 
 States Government. This had exceedingly exasper- 
 ated the English commander, and he determined to 
 wait until the Chesapeake was at sea before putting 
 
8 Allen, of the Chesapeake 
 
 his cherished project into practice. As soon as the 
 Chesapeake set sail, the Leopard was despatched to 
 bring her to. The Melampus was not sent because 
 she was too near the Chesapeake* s armament, and 
 resistance might be successfully made to any attempt 
 at high-handed interference. Nor did he take the 
 trouble to despatch one of his seventy-fours, which 
 might have brought the Chesapeake under her guns, 
 and compelled her to submit by the law that " might 
 makes right " ; but the Leopard was sent because 
 she was just large enough to insure success, and yet 
 to humble the American from the mere fact that he 
 must inevitably yield to a vessel to which he should 
 by rights make some resistance. 
 
 It was a calm day with just enough wind to move 
 the ships through the water. The Leopard^ that had 
 really got under way first, overhauled the smaller 
 vessel, after a few hours' sailing. At three o'clock, 
 when forty-five miles off shore, she hove to across 
 her bows, and the slight wind that had wafted them 
 from the Capes died away almost at the moment. 
 Hailing the American ship's captain, Humphreys 
 stated that he would like to send despatches by her — 
 a privilege always accorded one friendly nation by 
 another. 
 
 On the Chesapeake' s deck, chatting with the offi- 
 cers, were two lady passengers, who were bound 
 with four or five gentlemen passengers for the Straits. 
 
Allen, of the Chesapeake o 
 
 Part of the cabin had been allotted to the use of the 
 ladies and their maids. As they had come on board 
 at a late hour, their trunks and luggage were yet on 
 the deck. Amicable relations existed between Amer- 
 ica and England, and there was nothing especially 
 unfriendly in the attitude of the English frigate, 
 although her action excited much comment on 
 board the ship, and gave rise to many surmises. 
 Captain Barron was on the quarter-deck, when news 
 was brought to him that the Leopard had lowered a 
 boat with an officer in it, and that it was making 
 for the Chesapeake' s side. The ladder was dropped, 
 the side boys were piped to the gangway, and Bar- 
 ron himself stepped forward to greet the Lieuten- 
 ant, extending his hand and welcoming him gra- 
 ciously. Standing close by was Dr. John Bullus, a 
 passenger, the newly-appointed consul to the Island 
 of Minorca, and the naval agent to the United 
 States naval squadron in the Mediterranean. 
 
 " Captain Humphreys' comphments," began the 
 Lieutenant. "And he requires the privilege of 
 searching this vessel for deserters." 
 
 " What are their names, may I ask }. " inquired 
 Barron. 
 
 The officer replied, reading from a list he carried 
 in his hand, but describing the men as subjects of 
 " His Majesty, King George." 
 
 When he had finished, Barron frowned. 
 
lo Allen, of the Chesapeake 
 
 " There has been a careful and full inquiry into 
 the cases of these seamen," he said at last, " and 
 after a minute investigation into the circumstances, 
 the British Minister, Mr. Erskine, is perfectly sat- 
 isfied on the subject, inasmuch as these men were 
 American citizens, impressed by officers of the Me- 
 lampus. This gentleman," turning to Dr. BuUus, 
 " our naval agent, is particularly acquainted with all 
 the facts and circumstances relative to the transac- 
 tion. He received his information from the highest 
 possible source." 
 
 " From none less than the Honorable Robert 
 Smith, the Secretary of our Navy," put in Dr. Bui- 
 lus, " and I am most willing to go on board the 
 Leopard and inform your commander to that effect, 
 Mr. Erskine — " 
 
 " I do not recognize Mr. Erskine in this busi- 
 ness," interrupted the young Lieutenant arrogantly. 
 " Nor do I wish to talk with any one but Captain 
 Barron. There is much more to be said." 
 
 Barron took the doctor to one side. " You will 
 pardon me for placing you in a position to receive 
 such an insult. I did not suppose it possible." 
 
 " Make no mention of it," was the return ; " I 
 understand." With that the agent walked away. 
 
 The Englishman could not have helped noticing 
 the confusion upon the American's decks. The crew 
 were engaged under the direction of the petty offi- 
 
Allen, of the Chesapeake 1 1 
 
 cers in coiling away the stiff, new running-gear and 
 cables, men with paint-pots and brushes were touch- 
 ing up the bulwarks and paint work ; others were 
 polishing the brass ; and it was altogether a peaceful 
 scene that struck his eye, even if the presence of 
 the ladies had not added the finishing touch. 
 
 On the quarter-deck, leaning carelessly against 
 the railing, was a young officer. Lieutenant William 
 Henry Allen, third in rank. He was but twenty- 
 three years of age, a tall, boyish-looking fellow, with 
 beautiful features, clear eye and complexion, and 
 ruddy cheeks. He noticed the glance the English 
 officer had given, and his face clouded. He was 
 near enough to hear what passed between Barron 
 and the Lieutenant. 
 
 " It is of such importance," went on the latter, 
 continuing his previous remarks, " that I should 
 desire to speak to you in private, sir. If we could 
 but retire to your cabin — " 
 
 " With the greatest pleasure in the world," Bar- 
 ron returned, indicating that the Lieutenant should 
 precede him ; and with that they disappeared from 
 view. Once seated at the cabin table, the English- 
 man broached the subject without preamble. 
 
 "Commodore Douglass," he began, "is fully 
 determined to recover the deserters that are now 
 harbored on board this ship. It is my desire to 
 warn you that it is best that you submit to a peace- 
 
12 Allen, of the Chesapeake 
 
 able search, and in return my commanding officer 
 will permit you to do the same, and if any of your 
 men are found in our complement, you are welcome 
 to take them with you. This should bear great 
 weight in helping you to form your decision. Here 
 is his letter." 
 
 Captain Barron took the paper, broke the seal, 
 and read as follows : — 
 
 The Commander of H. B. Majesty' s ship, " Leopard,'' to the 
 Captain of the U, S. ship, " Chesapeake " ; — 
 
 At Sea, June 22d, 1807. 
 
 The Captain of H. B. Majesty's ship, Leopard, has the 
 honor to enclose the Captain of the U. S. ship, Chesapeake, 
 an order from the Honorable Vice-Admiral Berkeley, Com- 
 mander-in-chief of His Majesty's ships on the North 
 American Station, respecting some deserters from the ships 
 (therein mentioned) under his command, and supposed to 
 be now serving as part crew of the Chesapeake. 
 
 The Captain of the Leopard will not presume to say any- 
 thing in addition to what the commander-in-chief has 
 stated, more than to express a hope that every circum- 
 stance respecting them may be adjusted in a manner that 
 the harmony subsisting between the two countries may 
 remain undisturbed. 
 
 "As I before remarked," said the Lieutenant, 
 noting that Barron had finished the letter, " Captain 
 
Allen, of the Chesapeake 13 
 
 Humphreys offers you the privilege of a mutual 
 search." 
 
 Captain Barron smiled. The idea that he should 
 find any of his own men serving on board King 
 George's vessel was rather amusing. 
 
 " I have missed none of my crew," he said quietly, 
 " and, while grateful for the privilege, I do not de- 
 sire to make use of it." 
 
 " And your answer ? " broke in the Lieutenant. 
 
 "You will take this letter, that I shall write, to 
 Captain Humphreys, give him my best compliments, 
 and of course inform him that I regret that I can 
 neither avail myself of his courtesy, nor with honor 
 can I permit a search to be made of my vessel." 
 
 "As you decide," returned the Lieutenant, sen- 
 tentiously. 
 
 For some minutes nothing was heard from the 
 cabin. Barron was busily employed in inditing the 
 epistle, and when it was delivered, the two officers 
 came out together. 
 
 The following is a copy of the letter to Captain 
 Humphreys : — 
 
 To the Commander of His Majesty's ship^ " Leopard'' : — 
 
 At Sea, June 22d. 
 
 I know of no such men as you describe. The officers 
 that were on the recruiting service for this ship were par- 
 ticularly instructed by my government through me not to 
 
14 Allen, of the Chesapeake 
 
 enter any deserters from H. B. Majesty's ships. Nor do 
 I know of any being here. I am also instructed never to 
 permit the crew of any ship under my command to be 
 mustered by any other than their own officers. It is my 
 disposition to preserve harmony, and I hope this answer 
 to your despatch will prove satisfactory. 
 
 J. Barron. 
 
 The Englishman was escorted to the side, and 
 once in his boat, his crew, as if urged to special ex- 
 ertion, made all haste to gain their ship. 
 
 Allen turned and spoke to Benjamin Smith, the 
 First Lieutenant. " I do not like the look of 
 things," he said. 
 
 "Nor I," responded Smith, advancing toward the 
 Captain, who had stopped to speak to one of the 
 lady passengers. He saluted his commander, and 
 speaking in alow voice, he suggested the propriety of 
 asking the ladies to retire below, and of clearing 
 ship. 
 
 " Tut, tut," replied Barron, carelessly ; " you are 
 over-nervous, Mr. Smith. My letter to Captain 
 Humphreys will convince him that our actions are 
 perfectly proper and peaceable, while any move- 
 ment to prove to the contrary might lead him to 
 suppose that I wished to precipitate some trouble. 
 Nothing will occur, I warrant you." 
 
 " Had we not better open the magazines, sir ? " 
 asked Captain Gordon, coming up at this moment. 
 
Allen, of the Chesapeake 15 
 
 " It is not necessary," Barron returned, and once 
 more joined the ladies. 
 
 The keys of the magazine are always kept in the 
 possession of the ship's captain, and by him they 
 are handed to the gunner, and are never delivered 
 to any one else. As was customary, the Chesapeake' s 
 broadside guns were loaded and shotted, for a ship 
 generally sailed with them in this state of prepara- 
 tion ; but they were not primed, and but thirteen 
 powder horns had been made ready, and they were 
 locked safe in the magazine. Around the foremast 
 and in the cable tiers were plenty of wads and 
 sponges, and ready on deck, before each gun, was a 
 box of canister. But there were no matches pre- 
 pared for service. 
 
 The peaceful work went on. The crew continued 
 touching up the paint work, and in the sunlight 
 the brass shone brightly. From the galley came the 
 clatter of dishes, and from below came the sound of 
 a sea-song, chanted by one of the men off watch. 
 
 Barron called Captain Gordon to him on the 
 quarter-deck. " Captain,'* said he, " I think that 
 fellow yonder hailed us a moment since ; I could 
 not make out what he said however. Perhaps we 
 had better send the men to their stations quietly." 
 
 " Very good, sir," returned the Captain, and he 
 strolled forward leisurely, for he, like Barron, sus- 
 pected no surprise. 
 
1 6 Allen, of the Chesapeake 
 
 Allen had left the quarter-deck and had stepped 
 forward to speak to Mr. Brooks, the saiUng-master. 
 They stopped at the entrance to the galley, which 
 was in a caboose or deckhouse. Suddenly Lieuten- 
 ant Smith looked out across the water at the Leopard^ 
 that was swinging lazily along at about the distance 
 of a pistol shot. 
 
 Surely he could not be mistaken. The muzzle 
 of one of the forward guns was slewing around to 
 bear upon the ship. Probably they were just ex- 
 ercising; but there! another followed suit, and then 
 three more, as if moved by one command. His 
 face blanched. What could it mean? But one 
 thing ! He whirled and saw that Barron had gone 
 below to his cabin. Rushing to the ladies, he 
 grasped them by the arms and having hardly time 
 to make explanations, he hurried them to the com- 
 panionway. 
 
 " Below as far as you can go ! Down to the 
 hold ! " he cried. " Don't stop ; don t talk ! " 
 
 As he spoke he could scarce believe his eyes. A 
 burst of white smoke, with a vivid red dash of flame 
 from the centre, broke from the forward gun on the 
 Leopards main deck. There was a crash just abaft 
 the break of the forecastle. A great splinter fully 
 six feet long whirled across the deck. The shock 
 was felt throughout the ship. A man who had 
 been painting the bulwarks fell to his knees, arose. 
 
Allen, of the Chesapeake 17 
 
 and fell again. His shoulder and one arm were 
 almost torn away; his blood mingled with the paint 
 from the overturned pot. He shrieked out in fright 
 and agony. 
 
 " Beat to quarters ! " roared Lieutenant Smith. 
 
 Up from below the men came tumbling. Barron 
 ran from his cabin, with his face as white as death. 
 " To quarters ! '* he roared, echoing the Lieuten- 
 ant's order. 
 
 Everything was confusion. The men gathered 
 at the useless guns. The belated drummer began 
 to sound the roll. Hither and thither rushed offi- 
 cers and midshipmen. The green hands stood 
 gawking about ; some overcome by fear and the 
 suddenness of danger, plunged down the compan- 
 ionway. Where were the matches? Where were 
 the priming horns ? Barron turned to go to his 
 cabin for the keys to the magazine. They were 
 locked in the drawer of his heavy desk, and now 
 there came another shot. It struck fair in the bul- 
 warks, and the hammocks and their contents were 
 thrown out of the nettings. Three men were 
 wounded by the shower of splinters. And not a 
 shot was iired yet in return. 
 
 " Matches ! give us the matches ! " roared some 
 of the men at the guns, as they tried to bring their 
 harmless weapons to bear upon the Englishman. 
 
 A deadly broadside struck the helpless Chesapeake, 
 
1 8 Allen, of the Chesapeake 
 
 Blocks and spars fell from aloft. Suddenly from 
 the entrance of the deckhouse ran a hatless figure. 
 Men made way for him. It was Lieutenant Allen! 
 His jaws were set and his eyes were glaring. Toss- 
 ing between his hands, as a juggler keeps a ball in 
 the air, was a red hot, flaming coal. 
 
 " Here, sir ! " cried one of the gunner's mates. 
 " This one's primed, sir. For God's sake, here, 
 sir ! 
 
 Just as Allen reached forward, a shot from the 
 Leopard struck the opening of the port. The man 
 who had spoken was hit full in the breast. Five of 
 tne eight surrounding the piece fell to the deck, 
 wounded by the murderous splinters. But Allen 
 dropped his flaming coal upon the breech of the 
 gun, and pushed into place with his scorched and 
 blackened fingers. 
 
 It was the lone reply to the Englishman's das- 
 tardly gun practice ! For fifteen minutes the Leop- 
 ard fired steadily by divisions. 
 
 Covered with blood that had been dashed over 
 him from the body of the man the round shot had 
 killed, Allen ran aft. The ship was full of groans 
 and shrieks and cursing. Forth from the cabin 
 came Barron. He looked an aged, heart-broken 
 man. When he saw the young Lieutenant, he 
 stepped back a pace in horror. The scene of car- 
 nage on the deck unnerved him. 
 
"It was Lieutenant Allen!" 
 
Allen, of the Chesapeake 19 
 
 " The keys ! the keys ! '* shrieked Allen, almost 
 springing at his commander's throat. " Let us 
 fight, if we must die ! " 
 
 The thought that flashed through Barron's mind 
 must have been the uselessness of resistance, the 
 terrible death and destruction, and the inevitable loss 
 that would be sure to follow. Almost resting him- 
 self upon the group of officers, he raised both hands 
 above his head, the palms open and outstretched. 
 
 " Haul down the flag ! " he ordered faintly. 
 
 A sailor, standing near by, caught the words and 
 springing to the halliards, down it came, tangling 
 almost into a knot, as if to hide its folds. The 
 Leopard ceased her murderous work ; but the con- 
 fusion was great on board the Chesapeake. Men 
 wept like babies. Wounded men were being car- 
 ried below. Curses and imprecations on the Eng- 
 lish flag and on the distant ship rent the air. Many 
 openly cursed their own commander. 
 
 "Tell him to come here, and look at this!" cried 
 an old sailor, pointing to one dead body on the deck. 
 " Then will he lower the flag ? Give us a chance, 
 for God's sake, to fight like men ! " 
 
 Barron had hurried into the cabin. 
 
 " Send for the officers of the ship." They were 
 all there to a man, except the surgeon, who was 
 busy down below. "Your opinions, gentlemen," 
 he faltered. There was not a sound. Captain 
 
20 Allen, of the Chesapeake 
 
 Gordon was silent. Tears were rolling down the 
 First Lieutenant's cheeks. He tried to speak, and 
 could not. 
 
 " Sir, you have disgraced us ! " 
 
 It was Allen speaking. To save his life he could 
 not have helped blurting out what he felt to be the 
 truth. Barron spread out his arms weakly, then 
 dropped his head into his hands. It was then pre- 
 sumed that he was wounded also, for blood was 
 running down his wrists. They left him there. 
 
 What use the rest of the story ? The search was 
 made, four men were taken. All claimed to be 
 Americans ; they were prepared to prove it. Captain 
 Humphreys refused to accept the surrender of the 
 vessel. Barron, hitherto known as brave and capa- 
 ble, was dishonored and relieved from all command, 
 was sentenced to ^yq. years retirement without pay. 
 Oh yes, the British Admiral was sentenced also. Of 
 course the Board of Admiralty could not recognize 
 such doings. They even made apologies and all 
 the rest of it, and returned two of the men, all there 
 were left, for one was hanged and another died. 
 They sentenced their Vice-Admiral with a smile of 
 covert approval, and they promoted him shortly 
 afterwards. 
 
 The unfortunate officers who had been innocent 
 parties to the surrender felt keenly their position. 
 They could not go through explanations to every 
 
Allen, of the Chesapeake 21 
 
 one. They became morbidly sensitive upon the 
 subject. No less then seven duels grew out of the 
 affair, and Allen, who had fired the gun, wrote to 
 his father thus : " If I am acquitted honorably, if 
 Captain Barron is condemned, you may see me 
 again. If not, never.'* — Poor Allen ! No dis- 
 grace shall ever be attached to his name. He 
 died of wounds received while bravely fighting on 
 the deck of his own little vessel, the Argus, some 
 years later, and he was buried in foreign soil by a 
 guard of honor of his enemies, who appreciated his 
 bravery and worth. 
 
 As for the Chesapeake, her bad name clung to her. 
 And of her end, there is much more to tell that will 
 be told. But " Remember the Chesapeake " became 
 a watchword. This was the beginning, that was the 
 beginning of the end. 
 
REUBEN JAMES, ABLE SEAMAN 
 
REUBEN JAMES, ABLE SEAMAN 
 
 THIS is a story that has oft been told be- 
 fore. But in history, if a man becomes 
 famous by one act, and be that act some- 
 thing worth recording, it will stand being told about 
 again. So if this be an old yarn, this is the only 
 apology for the spinning, and here goes for it : — 
 
 Reuben James may be well remembered by men 
 who are yet living, for he died but some fifty years 
 ago. He was born in the state of Delaware, of the 
 good old " poor but honest " stock. Sailor boy 
 and man was Reuben, with a vocabulary limited to 
 the names of things on shipboard and the verbs to 
 pull and haul. He went to sea at the age of thir- 
 teen years, and in 1797, when only a lad of sixteen, 
 although he had already made three or four cruises 
 of some length, he was captured by a French priva- 
 teer during the quasi-war between this country and 
 the citizen Republic of France. Upon his libera- 
 tion, Reuben made up his mind to serve no longer 
 in the merchant service, but to ship as soon as 
 possible in the best frigate that flew our flag ; and 
 as his imprisonment lasted but some five or six 
 months, he soon found opportunity for revenge 
 
 25 
 
26 Reuben James, Able Seaman 
 
 Upon returning to the States he was fortunate 
 enough to find the old Constellation in port picking 
 up her crew. This was in the year 1799, and the 
 old ship was then in command of the intrepid Com- 
 modore Truxtun, and he was her commander when 
 she gave such a drubbing to the French frigates 
 Insurgente and Vengeance, which taught the citizens 
 a lesson, and brought to an end, as much as any- 
 other thing, the ridiculous situation of two nations 
 not actually at war fighting one another at sea 
 whenever they met. In these actions young James 
 distinguished himself He was by nature fearless 
 to the verge of recklessness, and he was probably 
 in trouble, on account of his devil-may-care propen- 
 sities, more than once. In 1804, he sailed in the 
 frigate United States to the Mediterranean, and when 
 young Stephen Decatur sailed into the harbor and 
 successfully destroyed the captured frigate Philadel- 
 phia, which the Tripolitans had anchored beneath 
 their batteries, Reuben James was one of the first 
 to volunteer. He returned from the successful 
 accomplishment of the design, impressed with the 
 young leader's courage and magnetism, and as often 
 is the case between a beloved officer and the man 
 who serves under him, there grew up in the young 
 sailor's heart — he and Decatur were about the same 
 age — a wild desire to do something to prove his 
 devotion. The affection of brave men for one an- 
 
Reuben James, Able Seaman 27 
 
 other leads to deeds of noble self-sacrifice, and 
 Reuben James's chance was to come. Every time 
 that he was assigned to boat duty in the many skir- 
 mishes and little actions, before the harbor of Trip- 
 oli, Reuben succeeded in going in Decatur's boat, 
 and one day to his delight he was promoted to be 
 cockswain, which must have proved that Decatur's 
 keen eye had noticed him. 
 
 On the 3d of August, 1804, early in the morn- 
 ing, the orders were sent throughout Commodore 
 Preble's fleet to prepare for a general attack to take 
 place as soon as it was broad daylight. The Amer- 
 ican force consisted of the Constitution and a number 
 of gunboats of the same style and size as those 
 composing the Tripolitan forces. Everything was 
 ready on time, but the lack of wind prevented the 
 action from taking place until late in the afternoon, 
 when the Constitution, preceded by three of the 
 American gunboats, entered the harbor. There 
 were nine of the Bey's crack vessels, composing the 
 eastern wing, waiting not far from shore. The three 
 Yankee gunboats bore down upon them without 
 hesitation, in gallant style. In slap-bang fashion, 
 they sailed right into the Tripolitans and captured, 
 cutlass in hand, the three leading ones. The other 
 ; six fled and came plashing up the harbor, working 
 their heavy sweeps for all they were worth. 
 
 A few minutes after their retreat, one of the other 
 
28 Reuben James, Able Seaman 
 
 vessels that, to all appearances, had surrendered, 
 broke away and started up the harbor, scrambling 
 along as fast as she could go. Decatur in his small 
 boat was not far away. There was a mist of battle 
 smoke hanging over the water, and for an instant 
 he did not notice what was going on ; but when he 
 did hear what had happened, all the fierce daring 
 in his nature was aroused, and mingled with the 
 anger and desire for revenge, it completely swept 
 him away. He was told that the Tripolitan com- 
 mander, who had just made his escape, had treach- 
 erously risen upon the prize crew sent on board of 
 him, after he had struck his flag, and with his own 
 hands had killed Decatur's beloved brother James. 
 When this news reached him, Decatur did not falter. 
 
 " After him ! " he cried to his crew. " Put me 
 alongside of him ! " 
 
 "We'll put you there, sir," said Reuben James, 
 who was at the tiller. And out of the smoke into 
 the plain view of the guns of the battery and also of 
 the American captives, who had viewed the whole 
 affair from the window of their prison, the little boat 
 started in the wake of the felucca, whose force of 
 men outnumbered hers by three to one. They 
 gained at every jump, and in a few minutes they 
 had run their little boat alongside, thrown down 
 their oars, and to a man had scrambled on board the 
 Tripolitan. Decatur had set his eye upon a red- 
 
Reuben James, Able Seaman 29 
 
 turbaned figure that he knew to be the leader. 
 This man had killed his brother ! Almost before 
 the bowman had laid hold of the enemy's gunwale, 
 he had made a flying leap off it and gained the 
 deck. Ignoring every risk, scarcely pausing to ward 
 off the many blows that were aimed at him, he 
 made straight for the man in the red turban. The 
 pirate was armed with a long spear and one of those 
 deadly curved scimitars, sharp as steel can stand it, 
 capable of lopping off a limb at a single stroke; draw- 
 ing back he aimed a full-length thrust as soon as 
 Decatur confronted him, for he must have read his 
 fate in the determined look on the latter's face. 
 Decatur dodged skilfully and tried to come to closer 
 quarters ; but the Tripolitan by great agility suc- 
 ceeded in keeping out of the way, and once more he 
 lunged. This time as Decatur parried his sword- 
 blade broke off at the hilt ; dropping it, he laid 
 hold of his enemy's spear, and in the wrestle for its 
 possession, he succeeded in tripping up the Turk, 
 and both fell upon the deck. The red-turbaned one, 
 freeing one hand, drew a dagger from his waist- 
 cloth, and just as he was about to plunge it into the 
 body of the young American, Decatur managed to 
 draw a small pistol, and lifting himself on his elbow, 
 blew off the top of his opponent's head. 
 
 Revenge was his. But what about our friend 
 Reuben ? The only reason that Decatur had not 
 
 I 
 
30 Reuben James, Able Seaman 
 
 been killed in the early part of the struggle by the 
 many blows that were aimed at him — for the Ameri- 
 can boarding party numbered but twelve all told — 
 was the fact that seaman Reuben James was close 
 behind him, warding off blow after blow. Disdain- 
 ing to protect himself, his right arm was rendered 
 useless, so that he had to shift his cutlass to his left 
 hand. He was slashed seven times about the body. 
 A cut on the shoulder made him drop his weapon, 
 and just at this moment he saw that Decatur was 
 lying upon the deck with his foeman over him. 
 Behind him a sinewy man was aiming a deadly 
 blow directly downward. Reuben James sprang 
 forward. His right arm was useless and his left 
 almost so. There was nothing he could interpose 
 between that deadly blow and his beloved com- 
 mander but his life ! Trying weakly to push back 
 the TripoHtan, he leaned forward swiftly and caught 
 the blow from the scimitar on his own head. It 
 fractured his skull, and he fell insensible to the deck. 
 
 But a Yankee sailor is a hard man to kill — in 
 three weeks cockswain James was at his post again. 
 His recovery was no doubt due to his wonderful 
 constitution and his youth. 
 
 As soon as the war with Great Britain was de- 
 clared, Reuben made all haste to join his old com- 
 mander, and he served in the frigate United States 
 when she captured the Macedonian^ and afterwards 
 
 1 
 
" Reuben James sprang forward. 
 
Reuben James, Able Seaman 31 
 
 in the President when she took the Endymion. In 
 both actions he got as near Decatur as he could, and 
 in the last-named conflict he received three wounds. 
 Although suffering greatly, he refused to leave the 
 deck until after the President had struck her flag to 
 the squadron that captured her, whereupon Reuben 
 James was carried below weeping — not from pain 
 or anguish, but from sheer mortification and grief. 
 
 At Decatur's funeral he wept again, honest fellow, 
 and whenever he came to port he would visit his 
 commander's grave. Reuben was in actual service 
 until the year 1836, when he arrived in Washington 
 for the purpose of obtaining a pension. He was 
 suffering very much at this time from an old musket- 
 shot wound that had caused a disease of the bone 
 of his leg. It was exceedingly painful and becom- 
 ing dangerous. After consultation the doctors or- 
 dered amputation, and as he lay in the hospital the 
 decision was announced to him. With his old 
 indifference to danger, and his reckless spirit, Reu- 
 ben replied in the following words : — 
 
 " Doctor, you are the captain, sir. Fire away ; 
 but I don't think it is shipshape to put me under 
 jury masts when I have just come into harbor." 
 
 The day after the operation Reuben was very 
 low, and it was thought that he had but a few hours 
 to live. The old sailor himself declared that he 
 had reached the bitter end of his rope, appeared 
 
32 Reuben James, Able Seaman 
 
 resigned to his fate, and begged the surgeon to 
 " ease him off handsomely while he was about it." 
 
 " Reuben," said the doctor, " we have concluded 
 that we will give you a good drink and allow you 
 to name it. What will you have, brown stout or 
 brandy toddy ? " 
 
 " I s*pose I won*t take another for a long time, 
 sir," Reuben responded, with a twinkle in his 
 eye. " So just s'pose you give us both ; which one 
 first it doesn't much matter." 
 
 He prided himself that he had been in ten fights 
 and as many " skrimedges," and as he was a favor- 
 ite character, he was allowed to celebrate each in 
 turn as they came around, so his happy days were 
 many. There was one subject to which, however, 
 no one could ever refer — Decatur's sad and un- 
 timely end. Always in his heart Reuben bore a 
 deep and lasting love, and an ever-living admiration 
 for the man whose life he had saved ; and those 
 friends of the young Commodore always treated the 
 old sailor with the greatest of deference. Had De- 
 catur lived, it is safe to state that wherever he went 
 Reuben would have gone also, and if the latter had 
 not walked bare-headed and weeping at his officer's 
 funeral ; and had it been the other way about, with 
 Reuben being put to earth, Decatur would have 
 been there, if possible, hat in hand, to shed a tear of 
 sorrow. 
 
 I 
 
THE MEN BEHIND THE TIMES 
 
THE MEN BEHIND THE TIMES 
 
 OUT of the north they came in their grimy, 
 bluff-bowed ships — the men behind the 
 times ! Three years away from home ; 
 three years outside the movement of human gov- 
 ernment, of family life, ignorant of the news of the 
 world. 
 
 The years 1811 and 18 12 were remarkable ones 
 in the annals of the whaling industry ; vessels that 
 had been cruising for months unrewarded managed 
 to fill their holds, and now, deep laden, they were 
 returning from the whaling grounds, singly or often 
 in companies of a half-score or more. They were 
 ugly vessels, broad and clumsy, with heavy spars 
 and great wooden davits. They stenched of blubber 
 and whale oil, and they oozed in the warm sun as 
 they labored southward, out of the realms of ice 
 and night into the rolling waters of the Pacific. 
 They buffeted the tempestuous weather of the Horn 
 and climbed slowly northward along the coasts of 
 the Western hemisphere. 
 
 Saihng together homeward bound for New Eng- 
 land in the fall of the year was a fleet of these 
 
 35 
 
^6 The Men behind the Times 
 
 Arctic whalers — no matter their exact number or 
 their destinations. For the beginning, let it suffice 
 that the vessel farthest to the west was the good 
 ship Blazing Star of New Bedford. 
 
 Captain Ezra Steele, her skipper, had made a 
 mental calculation, and he knew exactly the profits 
 that would accrue to him from the sale of the 
 barrels of sperm oil that now filled the deep hold 
 of his ship. It was his custom in fine weather to 
 count these barrels and to go over all these calcu- 
 lations again and again. He was a part owner of 
 the Blazing Star^ and he had made up his mind 
 exactly what he was going to do with the proceeds 
 of this cruise. He knew that just about this time 
 of the year, his wife and many other wives, and some 
 who hoped to be, would be watching for the sight of 
 welcome sails. The Captain wondered if his daugh- 
 ter Jennie would accept young Amos Jordan's offer of 
 marriage. He and Amos had talked it over. Amos 
 was his first mate now, and the Captain had been 
 thinking of staying at home and sending the young 
 man out in command of the Blazing Stars next cruise ; 
 but perhaps Jennie, who had a will of her own, had 
 married ; or who knows what might have occurred ? 
 It is now late October of the year 1812, and a great 
 deal can happen in three years, be it recorded. 
 
 Captain Ezra had all the sail that she could 
 carry crowded on the stiflF, stubby yards of his 
 
The Men behind the Times 37 
 
 vessel. He was anxious to get home again, but the 
 wind had been baffling for some days, hauling about 
 first one way, then another. Now, however, they 
 were getting well to the north, and the continued 
 mildness of the air showed that probably they had 
 entered the waters of the Gulf Stream. The Captain 
 was dressed in a long-tailed coat and yellow cloth 
 breeches thrust into heavy cowhide boots that had 
 become almost pulpy from constant soaking in the 
 sperm oil. He noiselessly paced the deck, now and 
 then looking over the side to see how she was going. 
 
 The old Blazing Star creaked ahead with about 
 the same motion and general noise of it that an ox- 
 cart makes when swaying down a hill. From the 
 quarter-deck eight or ten other vessels, every one 
 lumbering along under a press of stained and much- 
 patched canvas, could be seen, and a few were 
 almost within hailing distance. All were deep laden ; 
 every one had been successful. 
 
 " Waal," said the Captain to himself, " if this wind 
 holds as 'tis, we'll make Bedford Hght together in 
 abaout three weeks." 
 
 The nearest vessel to the Blazing Star was the 
 old Elijah Mason. She had made so many last 
 voyages, and had been condemned so many times, 
 and then tinkered up and sent out again, that it 
 always was a matter of surprise to the worthy gentle- 
 men who owned her when she came halting along 
 
38 The Men behind the Times 
 
 with her younger sisters at the end of a successful 
 cruise. Her present captain, Samuel Tobin Dewey, 
 who had sailed a letter of marque during the Revo- 
 lution, was a bosom friend of Captain Steele. Many 
 visits had they exchanged, and many a bottle of 
 rare old Medford rum had they broached together. 
 As Captain Ezra turned the side, he saw that they 
 were lowering a boat from the Elijah Mason, and 
 that a thick, short figure was clambering down to it. 
 So he stepped to the skylight, and leaning over, 
 shouted into the cabin. 
 
 " Hey, Amos ! " he called, " Captain Dewey's 
 comin' over to take dinner with us. Tell that lazy 
 Portugee to make some puddin' and tell him to get 
 some bread scouse ready for the crew. We'll keep 
 'em here for comp'ny for our lads." 
 
 In a few minutes he had welcomed Captain 
 Dewey, who, although almost old enough to re- 
 member when his ship had made her maiden voy- 
 age, was ruddy and stout in his timbers and keen of 
 voice and eye. But by the time that a man has been 
 three years cooped up in one vessel, his conver- 
 sational powers are about at their lowest ebb ; every 
 one knows all of the other's favorite yarns by heart, 
 and so the greeting was short and the conversation 
 in the cabin of the Blazing Star was limited. It was 
 with a feeling of relief that the captains heard the 
 news brought to them by a red-headed, unshaven 
 
The Men behind the Times 39 
 
 boy of seventeen, that there was a strange sail in 
 sight to the northwest. The two skippers came on 
 deck at once. About four miles away they could 
 make out a vessel heaving up and down, her sails 
 flapping and idle. For, a common occurrence at sea, 
 she lay within a streak of calm. Her presence had 
 probably been kept from being known before by 
 the slight mist that hung over the sea to the west 
 and north. The long, easy swells were ruffled by 
 the slight wind that filled the sails of the whaling 
 fleet, and were dimpled to a darker color. But 
 where the stranger lay there was a smooth even 
 path of oily calm. Beyond her some miles the 
 wind was blowing in an opposite direction. She lay 
 between the breezes, not a breath touching her. 
 
 " What d'ye make her out to be, Ezra ? " asked 
 Captain Dewey, his fingers twitching anxiously in 
 his eagerness to take hold of the glass through which 
 Captain Steele was squinting. 
 
 " Man-o'-war, brig," responded the taller man. 
 " Sure's you're born, sir." 
 
 "You're jest right," responded Dewey, after he 
 had taken aim with the telescope. " I'll bet her 
 captain's mad, seein' us carryin' this breeze, an' she 
 in the doldrums. We'll pass by her within three 
 mile, I reckon. She may hang on thar all day long 
 an' never git this slant of wind at all. Wonder 
 what she's doin aout here, anyhow?" 
 
40 The Men behind the Times 
 
 In about ten minutes Captain Ezra picked up the 
 glass again. " Hello ! " he said. " By Dondy ! 
 they've lowered away a boat, an' they are rowin' off 
 as if to meet us. Wonder what's the row ? " A 
 tiny speck could be seen with the naked eye, mak- 
 ing out from the stretch of quiet water. The crew 
 of the Blazing Star had sighted her also, and at the 
 prospect of something unusual to break the monot- 
 ony, had lined the bulwarks. Suddenly as the boat 
 lifted into the sunlight on the top of a wave, there 
 came a flash and a glint of some bright metal. In 
 a few minutes it showed again. Captain Ezra 
 picked up the glass. 
 
 " By gum ! " he exclaimed ; " that boat's chuck 
 full of men all armed. What in the name of 
 Tophet can it mean ? " 
 
 " Dunno — I'd keep off a little," suggested 
 Captain Dewey. 
 
 The helmsman gave the old creaking wheel a 
 spoke or two in response to the Captain's order. 
 
 " She's baound to meet us anyhow," put in the 
 lanky skipper. " What had we better dew ? " 
 
 " Got any arms on board ? " inquired Dewey. 
 " Look suspicshus. Think I's better be gettin' 
 back to my old hooker," he added half to himself. 
 
 Amos Jordan, the first mate, was standing close 
 by. " I reckon we've got some few," he said. 
 
 " Git 'em aout," ordered the Captain, laconically ; 
 
The Men behind the Times 41 
 
 "and, Cap'n Sam, you stay here with us, won't 
 
 ye: 
 
 Amos started forward. In a few minutes he had 
 produced four old muskets, and a half-dozen rusty 
 cutlasses. But there were deadlier weapons yet on 
 board, of which there were a plenty. Keen-pointed 
 lances, that had done to death many a great whale ; 
 and harpoons, with slender shanks and heads sharp 
 as razors. And there were strong arms which knew 
 well how to use them. The Captain went into the 
 cabin and came back with three great, clumsy 
 pistols. One he slipped under his long-tailed coat, 
 and the two others he gave to Captain Dewey and 
 Amos Jordan. There were twenty men in the 
 Blazing Stars own crew. The visitors from the 
 old whaler added ^VQ more, and with the three 
 mates and the two captains, five more again. In 
 all there were thirty men prepared to receive the 
 mysterious rowboat, and receive her warmly should 
 anything be belligerent in her mission. 
 
 " I dunno what they want," said Captain Ezra ; 
 "but to my mind it don't look right.'* 
 
 " Jesso, jesso," assented Captain Samuel. 
 
 A plan was agreed upon ; a very simple one. 
 The men were to keep well hid behind the bul- 
 warks, and if the small boat proved unfriendly, she 
 was to be warned off the side, and if she persisted 
 in trying to board, then they were to give her a 
 
42 The Men behind the Times 
 
 proper reception. The suspense would not be long. 
 The boat was now so close that the number of men 
 in her could be counted distinctly. There were 
 eighteen in all, for the stern sheets were seen to be 
 crowded. The brig at this moment lay in her own 
 little calm, about two miles directly off the star- 
 board beam. The rest of the whaHng fleet had 
 noticed her, and had sighted the approach of the 
 armed cutter also. They were edging off to the 
 eastward, evidently hailing one another and hud- 
 dling close together. But the Blazing Star, with 
 just enough wind to move her, held her course. 
 
 All was suppressed excitement, for the armed 
 small craft was now within a half a cable's length. 
 " Ship ahoy ! " hailed an officer in a short, round 
 jacket, standing up. " Heave to there ; I want to 
 board you ! " 
 
 "Waal," drawled Captain Ezra, through his 
 nose, " I dunno as I shall. What d'ye want ? " 
 
 There was no reponse to this ; the officer merely 
 turned to his crew : " Give way ! " he ordered, and 
 in half a dozen strokes the cutter had slid under 
 the Blazing Stars quarter. The man in the bow 
 turned and made fast to the main chains with a 
 boat-hook. Captain Steele was smoking an old 
 corncob pipe. He looked to be the most peaceful 
 soul in the world as he stepped to the gangway, 
 but under his long coat-tails his hand grasped the 
 
The Men behind the Times 43 
 
 old horse-pistol. Several heads now showed above 
 the bulwarks. The strange officer, who had evi- 
 dently not expected to see so many, hesitated. 
 Captain Ezra blew a vicious puff of smoke from 
 between his firm lips. 
 
 " Better keep off the side," he said ; " we don't 
 want ye on board ; who be ye, anyhow ? " 
 
 " Damn your insolence. Til show you ! " cursed 
 the stranger. " On board here, all you men ! " 
 He sprang forward. Captain Ezra did not pull 
 his pistol. He stepped back half a pace and his 
 eye gleamed wickedly. The unknown had almost 
 come on board when he was met full in the chest 
 by the heel of Captain Ezra's cowhide boot. Now 
 the Captain's legs were very long and strong, and 
 aided by the firm grasp he had on both sides of the 
 gangway, the gentleman in the round, brass-but- 
 toned jacket flew through the air over the heads of 
 his crew in the boat below and plumped into the 
 water on the other side. One of the men in the 
 boat instantly drew a pistol and fired straight at 
 the Captain's head — the ball whistled through his 
 old straw hat ! But that shot decided matters. It 
 was answered by the four old rusty muskets, the 
 last one hanging fire so long that there was a per- 
 ceptible time between the flash in the pan, and the 
 report. Two men fell over on the thwarts of the 
 small boat. The man who had fired the pistol sank 
 
44 The Men behind the Times 
 
 back, pierced through and through by the slender 
 shank of a harpoon. But the crowning effect of 
 this attempt to repel boarders occurred just at this 
 minute. A spare anchor, that had been on deck 
 close to the bulwarks, caught the eye of Amos 
 Jordan. " Here, bear a hand ! " he cried, and with 
 the help of three others he hove the heavy iron 
 over the bulwarks. It struck full on the cutter's 
 bows, and crushed them as a hammer would an egg- 
 shell. The shock threw most of the occupants 
 from off the thwarts ; the boat filled so quickly that 
 in an instant they were struggling in the water — 
 one man gained the deck, but a blow on the head 
 from the butt of Captain Dewey's pistol laid him out 
 senseless. One of the Mason s crew hurled a lance 
 at one of the helpless figures in the water. It 
 missed him by a hair's-breath. 
 
 " Avast that ! " roared Captain Ezra. " We don't 
 want to do more murder ! " 
 
 The officer who had been projected into the deep 
 by the Captain's well-timed kick had grasped the 
 gunwales of the sunken boat. His face was deathly 
 white ; thirteen of his crew had managed to save 
 themselves by laying hold with him. One of them 
 was roaring lustily for some one to heave a rope to 
 him. To save his life. Captain Ezra could not help 
 grinning. 
 
 "Waal," he said, "this is a pretty howdy do. 
 
The Men behind the Times 45 
 
 Ye kin come on board naow, if ye want tew, only 
 leave them arms whar they be." As if in obedience 
 to this order, a sailor in a blue jacket with a white 
 stripe down each arm and trimming the collar, un- 
 buckled his heavy belt with his free hand and cast 
 his cutlass far from him. Two others followed 
 suit. 
 
 " Naow," said Captain Ezra, " one at a time come 
 on board, an' we'll find aout what ye mean by 
 attackin' a peaceable whaler with dangerous weapons, 
 who's homeward baound an' hain't offended ye." 
 
 The first man up the side was a red-cheeked, 
 black-whiskered individual, who mumbled, as he 
 sheepishly gazed about him : " Douse my glims but 
 this is a bloody rum go." 
 
 " Tie 'im up," ordered Captain Ezra. The man 
 submitted to having his hands made fast behind his 
 back. 
 
 " Now for the next one," said Captain Ezra, 
 blowing a calm puff of smoke up in the air, and 
 watching it float away into the hollow of the main- 
 sail. In turn the thirteen discomfited sailors were 
 ranged along the bulwarks, and no one was left but 
 the white-faced officer, clinging to the wreckage of 
 the boat that was now towing alongside, for one 
 of the crew had heaved a blubber-hook into her, at 
 the end of a bit of ratline. 
 
 " Spunky feller, ain't he ? " suggested Captain 
 
46 The Men behind the Times 
 
 Ezra, turning to Captain Dewey, who, in the excite- 
 ment had taken two big chews of tobacco, one after 
 another, and was working both sides of his jaws at 
 once. " The last t' leave his sinkin' ship. That's 
 well an' proper." 
 
 The young man — for he was scarcely more than 
 thirty — needed some assistance up the side, for 
 Captain Ezra's boot-heel had come nigh to staving 
 in his chest. 
 
 " Naow, foller me, young man," Captain Ezra 
 continued, walking toward the quarter-deck. He 
 ascended the ladder to the poop, and the dripping 
 figure, a little weak in the knees, guarded by a boat- 
 steerer armed with a harpoon, obeyed and followed. 
 As the Captain turned to meet him he noticed that 
 the man in uniform still had his side-arms. 
 
 " I'll trouble you for that thar fancy blubber-knife, 
 young man," he said, "an' then I'll talk t' ye." 
 The officer detached his sword from his belt and 
 handed it over. He had not offered yet to say a 
 word. 
 
 " Naow," said Captain Ezra, holding the sword 
 behind his back, " who be ye, an' what d' yer want ? 
 as I observed before." 
 
 " I'm Lieutenant Levison of His Majesty's brig 
 Badger'* 
 
 "Waal, ye ought to be ashamed of yourself," 
 broke in Captain Ezra. 
 

 .2 
 
 OJ 
 
 o 
 
 o 
 
 c 
 
 (U 
 
 rt 
 
 ^ 
 
The Men behind the Times 47 
 
 cc 
 
 I am/' responded the young man. "You may- 
 believe that, truly." 
 
 " Waal, what d'ye mean by attackin' a peaceful 
 whaler ? " 
 
 " Why, don't you know ? " replied the officer, 
 with an expression of astonishment. 
 
 " Know what ? " 
 
 " That there's a war between England and 
 America ? " 
 
 " Dew tell ! " ejaculated Captain Steele, huskily, 
 almost dropping his pipe. He stepped forward to 
 the break of the poop. 
 
 " Captain Dewey," he shouted, " this here feller 
 says thar's a war." 
 
 " So these folks have been tellin'," answered the 
 Captain of the Elijah Mason ; " but I don't believe 
 it. They're pirates ; that's what they be." 
 
 " Gosh, I guess that's so," said Captain Ezra. 
 " I reckon you're pirates," turning to the officer. 
 " I hain't heard tell of no war." 
 
 "We are not pirates," hotly returned the young 
 man. " Damn your insolence, I'm an officer of His 
 Britannic Majesty, King George!" 
 
 " Tush, tush ! no swearin' aboard this ship. 
 What was you goin' to do, rowin' off to us ? " 
 
 The officer remained silent, fuming in his anger. 
 " I was going to make a prize of you ; and if I had 
 you on board ship, I'd — " 
 
48 The Men behind the Times 
 
 " Belay that ! *' ordered Captain Ezra, calmly. 
 " Ye didn't make a prize of me, an' you're aboard 
 my ship. Don't forgit it." 
 
 " Well," broke in the young man, angrily, " what 
 are you going to do with me ? " Captain Dewey 
 had by this time come up on the quarter-deck, fol- 
 lowed by the mates. 
 
 " I presume likely," said the skipper of the 
 Blazing Star, rather thoughtfully, " I presume likely 
 we'll hang ye." 
 
 The Englishman — for all doubts as to his nation- 
 ality were set at rest by his appearance and manner 
 of speech — drew back a step. His face, that had 
 grown red in his anger, turned white again, and 
 he gave a glance over his shoulder. The brig, 
 hopelessly becalmed, lay way off against the ho- 
 rizon. 
 
 As he looked, a puff of smoke broke from her 
 bows. It was the signal for recall. He winced, 
 and his eye followed the glance of the stalwart figure 
 with the harpoon that stood behind him. 
 
 " For God's sake, don't do that ! " he said hastily. 
 " I tell you, sir, that there is a war. There has' 
 been war for almost four months now. Upon my 
 word of honor." 
 
 The two captains exchanged looks of incredulity. 
 Suddenly the prisoner's face lit up. " I can prove 
 it to you," he said excitedly. " Here is a Yankee 
 
The Men behind the Times 49 
 
 newspaper we took from a schooner we captured off 
 the Capes five days ago." 
 
 " The New Bedford Chronicle, by gosh ! " ex- 
 claimed Captain Ezra, in astonishment, taking the 
 soaked brown package. He spread it out on the 
 rail. 
 
 "It's true, Cap'n Sammy, it's true," he continued 
 excitedly. " Thar's a war ; listen to this," and he 
 read in his halting, sailor manner, the startling head- 
 lines : " The Frigate Constitution Captures the Brit- 
 ish Frigate Guerriere. Hurrah for Hull and his 
 Gallant Seamen ! Again the Eagle Screams with 
 Victory." 
 
 There was much more to it, and Captain Ezra 
 read every word. "Young man," he said at last, 
 " I owe ye an apology. If ye'll come daown into 
 our cabin, I kin mix ye a toddy of fine old Medford 
 rum. Between lawful an' honest enemies there 
 should be no hard feelin's, when the fate of war 
 delivers one into the hands of 'tother. Cap'n 
 Sammy," he observed as he reached the cabin, " if 
 we had really knowed thar was a war, we'd a gone 
 back and took that thar brig." 
 
 "Yaas," returned Captain Dewey, "we be sum- 
 mat behind the times." 
 
 His eyes twinkled as he glanced out of the cabin 
 window. Still becalmed and almost hull down, H. 
 M. S. Badger was but a speck against the horizon. 
 
50 The Men behind the Times 
 
 The Englishman drew a long deep breath. 
 
 " Come, sir," spoke up Captain Ezra. " Don't 
 get down hearted. ' Live an learn,' that's my motto. 
 We're drinkin' your good health, sir, join right in." 
 
 When the Blazing Star arrived in port, she turned 
 over to the United States authorities an officer and 
 twelve men, prisoners of war. 
 
THE COWARD 
 
THE COWARD 
 
 HE said that he had been impressed into the 
 English service from the brig Susan Butler, 
 of New York. But what grounds the 
 boarding officer had taken in supposing him to be 
 a British subject would puzzle most. The cocked- 
 hats generally left a merchant vessel's side with 
 the pick of the unfortunate crew. The qualifica- 
 tions necessary for a peaceable Yankee merchant 
 sailor to change his vocation and become a servant 
 of King George were plain and simple in 1810: 
 ruddy cheeks — crisp curling hair — youth, health, 
 and strength, why ! of English birth and parentage 
 most certainly ! What use the papers stating that 
 his name was Esek Cobb, or Hezekiah Brown ? 
 His home port or natal town Portsmouth, N. H., 
 Bath, Me., or Baltimore ? He spoke the mother 
 tongue; he was an A. B. His services were needed 
 to fight old England's enemies, and away he would 
 go in the stern sheets of the press boat, bitter curses 
 on his lips and irons on his wrists. 
 
 But this straight-haired, Indian-featured, narrow- 
 
 53 
 
54 The Coward 
 
 shouldered half-man who stood there on the Consti- 
 tution s deck, with his soaked, scanty clothes, cling- 
 ing to his thin, big-jointed limbs, why in the name of 
 the Lion or the Unicorn, or the Saint or the Dragon, 
 for that matter, had they chosen him ? He told his 
 tale in a low, whimpering voice, with his eyes shift- 
 ing from one deck-seam to another — Five years in 
 the Royal British Navy! — Five years of glorious 
 service of the one who rules the common heritage 
 of all the peopled earth — Five years of spirit-mur- 
 dering slavery. 
 
 Not six cable-lengths away, a dark shape against 
 the lights of the town, lay the great ship from whose 
 side he had lowered himself in the darkness to swim 
 to the shelter of the smart, tall-sparred frigate, over 
 whose taffrail he had watched his country's flag 
 swinging in the sunlight, tempting him all the day. 
 He had fought against the swiftly running tide 
 until at last — just as his strength had left him — 
 he had been hauled on board by the anchor watch, 
 and now his one prayer was that they would not 
 give him up. The men who stood about looked 
 pityingly at his shivering figure. A middy, attracted 
 by the commotion, had hastened aft to find the 
 officer of the deck. The forecastle people mur- 
 mured among themselves. 
 
 " Captain Hull won't give you up, lad," said one, 
 laying his hand on the poor fellow's shoulder. 
 
The Coward 55 
 
 " This ship is not the Chesapeake^* said another ; 
 " don't ye fear, man/' 
 
 "Here's the Leftenant," put in another — " 'ten- 
 tion ! " 
 
 " What's going on here ? " asked a low voice. 
 
 The sailor who had last spoken touched his cap. 
 
 " I was down making the running-boat fast to the 
 boom, sir, when I hears a faint cry, and I sees a 
 man in the water just alongside, sir. I lays hold of 
 him, and thinkin' it's one of our crew, sir, we gets 
 him quietly at the forechains ; then we sees as how 
 he ain't one of us, sir, — he says." 
 
 " That'll do ; let him speak for himself Where 
 did you come from, my man ? " 
 
 "From the Poictiers, yonder, sir. For the sake 
 of mercy don't give me up ! " 
 
 " Are you an American ? " 
 
 "Yes, sir; God's truth, I am." 
 
 " Your name ? " 
 
 " McGovern, sir." 
 
 "Where were you born, McGovern ?" 
 
 The stern, matter-of-fact inquiry could scarce 
 conceal the pity in the tone ; but it was the officer- 
 voice speaking. 
 
 "In Water Street, New York, sir, not far from 
 the big church — Oh, for the love of — " 
 
 "You speak like an Irishman." 
 
 " My parents were Irish, your honor, but I was 
 
^6 The Coward 
 
 born in the little house fourth from the corner. 
 You won't let them — Oh, God help me ! " 
 
 The sturdy rocking beat of oars near to hand off 
 the port quarter caused an interruption. The fugi- 
 tive gave a quick glance full of terror in the direc- 
 tion of the sound ; then he dropped forward upon 
 his knees ; his whimpering changed to a hoarse 
 weeping whisper. 
 
 " Don't give me up ; Vd rather die — save me — 
 save me/' he croaked. 
 
 One of the watch came hurrying aft. " There's 
 a cutter here at the gangway," he said in a low voice, 
 saluting the Lieutenant. 
 
 "Very good, my lad," responded the latter. 
 " Take this man below, give him dry clothes and a 
 place to sleep." 
 
 Two men helped the abject creature to his feet 
 and led him sobbing to the forward hatchway. The 
 Lieutenant stepped to the side. 
 
 " On board the cutter there," he called, " what do 
 you want at this hour of night ? " Well he knew, 
 and he spoke as if the answer had been given. 
 
 " On board the frigate," was the reply. " We're 
 looking for a deserter ; he started to swim off to 
 you ; has he reached here ? " 
 
 The Lieutenant disdained deception. " We fished 
 a half drowning man out of the water a few minutes 
 since," he replied quietly, leaning over the gangway 
 railing. 
 
The Coward 57 
 
 " He's a deserter from my ship ; I'll be obliged 
 if you will hand him over. — This is Lieutenant Col- 
 son, of the Poictiers!' 
 
 " Sorry not to grant Lieutenant Colson's request ; 
 the man claims protection as an American. Captain 
 Hull will have to look into the matter. — This is 
 Lieutenant Morris, of the Constitution^ 
 
 " I should like to see Captain Hull at once. In 
 bow there, make fast to the gangway." 
 
 " Hold hard, sir. The Captain is asleep ; I can- 
 not waken him." 
 
 " I demand you do — you are in one of His 
 Majesty's ports." 
 
 " I know that well enough — keep off the side, 
 sir." There was a moment's silence, and then the 
 same level tone was heard addressing some one on 
 the deck. " Call the guard ; let no one come on 
 board the ship to-night." 
 
 There was the sound of some movement on the 
 Constitution s deck ; the fast ebb tide clopped and 
 gurgled about the vessel's counter mirthfully. The 
 Englishman, standing erect in the stern sheets of 
 the little cutter bobbing against the frigate's side, 
 hesitated. 
 
 " On board the frigate, there ! " 
 
 "Well, sir, in the cutter!" 
 
 " Heark'ee ! You'll repent this rashness, 1 can 
 warrant you that, my friend ; you will pay high for 
 
58 The Coward 
 
 your damned Yankee insolence, mark my words. 
 Shove off there forward " (this to the bowman) — 
 " shove off there, you clumsy fool ! Let fall ! " 
 
 There had been no reply from the bulwarks to 
 the Englishman's burst of temper ; but Lieutenant 
 Morris stood there drumming with his fingers on 
 the hilt of his sword, and looking out into the dark- 
 ness. Then an odd smile that was near to being 
 scornful crossed his face, and he turned quietly and 
 began the slow swinging pace up and down the 
 quarter-deck. That Captain Hull would sanction 
 and approve his conduct, he did not have the least 
 suspicion of a doubt ; if not on general principles, 
 on account of a certain specific reason — to be told 
 in a few short words : — 
 
 It had happened that three days previous to the 
 very evening, a steward, who had been accused of 
 robbing the ward-room mess of liquor, and inciden- 
 tally of drunkenness arising from the theft, was up 
 for punishment — somehow he had managed to take 
 French leave by jumping out of a lower port. He 
 had been picked up by the running-boat of the flag- 
 ship. At once he had claimed to be a subject of 
 King George, and, needless to record, the statement 
 was accepted without question — whether he was or 
 not bore little weight, and cuts no figure in this tale. 
 Suffice it : Captain Hull's polite request for the 
 man's return was laughed at, very openly laughed 
 
The Coward 59 
 
 at, and the Admirars reply was a thinly veneered 
 sneer — why, the very idea of such a thing ! 
 
 Now here was a chance for that soul-satisfying 
 game of turn and turn about. Lieutenant Morris, 
 as he paced the broad quarter-deck, felt sure he had 
 voiced Captain Hull's feelings, and then he began a 
 little mental calculation, and as he did so, slightly 
 quickened his stride, and came a few paces further 
 forward until he was opposite the port gangway. 
 There he stopped and looked out at the swinging 
 anchor lights. Six hundred odd guns against forty- 
 four ! And then there were the land batteries and 
 the channel squadron probably outside. But actu- 
 ally, what mattered the odds ? On the morrow 
 there was going to be something to talk about, that 
 was fact, and Lieutenant Morris smiled as brave 
 men do when they look forward to contest, and 
 know they have right with them. The poor, whim- 
 pering dog who had claimed protection was probably 
 not worth bis salt, and was certainly not needed ; 
 but rather than give him up, Isaac Hull would go 
 to the bottom (in his very best, brand-new uniform, 
 Morris knew that well enough), and with him would 
 go four hundred sturdy lads by the right of their 
 own manly choice. 
 
 " And egad they'd have company," Morris rea- 
 soned out loud, with that strange smile of his. 
 
 Captain Hull heard the news and all about it at 
 
6o The Coward 
 
 breakfast, and the only sign that it interested him 
 in the least was the fact that he rubbed his heavy 
 legs in their silk stockings (he generally wore silk 
 in port) contentedly together beneath the table, and 
 disguised a wide smile with a large piece of toast. 
 
 " Have the man given a number and assigned to 
 a watch, Mr. Morris," was his only comment to the 
 Lieutenant's story. 
 
 That was simple enough. But the heavy, red- 
 faced Commodore, although prone to extravagant 
 indulgence in expansive shirt frills, jewelry, and gold 
 lace, usually went at matters in the simplest manner 
 and after the most direct fashion. There did not 
 appear to be any question on this present occasion ; 
 he to all appearances dismissed the subject from his 
 mind; but Morris knew better — "Wait," said he 
 to himself, " and we will see what we will see." 
 And although this is the tritest remark in the 
 world, it was more or less fitting, as will be shortly 
 proved. 
 
 At nine o'clock a letter arrived from the English 
 Admiral. It was couched in the usual form, it was 
 full of " best compliments," and bristled with refer- 
 ences to " courtesy and distinguished conduct in the 
 past," and it was signed " Obd't servant." But it said 
 and meant plainly enough : " Just take our advice 
 and hand this fellow over, Captain Hull, — right 
 away please, no delay ; don't stop for anything. He 
 
The Coward 6i 
 
 deserves to be abolished for presuming that he has 
 a country that will protect him." 
 
 The word had flown about the decks that the 
 EngHsh cutter was alongside with a message from 
 the flagship. The crew had all tumbled up from 
 below, and a hum of voices arose from the fore- 
 castle. 
 
 " Bill Roberts, here, he was on watch when they 
 hauled 'im on board, warent ye. Bill ? — I seed him 
 when they brought 'im below — he had the shakes 
 bad, didn't he. Bill ? " The speaker was a short, 
 thickset man, who had a way of turning his head 
 quickly from side to side as he spoke. His long, 
 well-wrapped queue that hung down his back would 
 whip across from one shoulder to the other. 
 
 "We thought it was one of yesterday's liberty 
 party trying to get back to the ship," responded 
 the man addressed as Bill. " But when we got him 
 on deck we seed as how he warent one of us, as I 
 told the First Luf. Did you see his back, Tom, 
 when we peeled his shirt off? " 
 
 " God a' mercy ! I seed it." 
 
 Well those marks were known. Deep red scars, 
 crisscrossed with heavy, unhealed, blue-rimmed cuts, 
 feverish and noisome. 
 
 " He was whipped through the fleet ten days ago. 
 So he says. I don't know what for, exactly ; says 
 he found a midshipman's handkerchief on deck, and 
 
62 The Coward 
 
 not knowin* whose Vas, put it into his ditty box — 
 some such yarn. — Jack here, he tells of somethin' 
 like that, when he was impressed out of the Ariadne 
 into the old Southampton^ don*t ye. Jack ? " 
 
 "Yes, but damn the yarn — this fellow — where 
 is he now ? " asked a tall, light-haired foretopman, 
 around whose muscular throat was tattooed a chain 
 and locket, the latter with a very red-cheeked 
 and exceedingly blue-eyed young person smiling 
 out through the opening in his shirt. 
 
 " He's hidin' somewhere down in the hold, I 
 reckon," answered a little, nervous man; "nobody 
 could find him this morning; guess he's had all 
 the spunk licked out of him." 
 
 " I've heard tell of that before," remarked the 
 tall foretopman. " His spirit's broke." 
 
 Just at this moment the English Lieutenant who 
 had borne the message from the Admiral hurried 
 up from the cabin where he had been in consulta- 
 tion with Captain Hull. His face was very red, 
 and he gave a hasty glance at the crowded fore- 
 castle, as if trying to enumerate the men and their 
 quality. Then he hastened down the side, and 
 when he had rowed off some dozen strokes he gave 
 the order to cease rowing. Then standing up he 
 looked back at the frigate he had left, taking in all 
 her points, the number of her guns, and marking 
 her heavy scantling with a critic's eye. Then he 
 
The Coward 6^ 
 
 seated himself again, and pulled away for the flag- 
 ship. 
 
 His departure had been watched by four hundred 
 pairs of eyes, and this last act of his had not been 
 passed by unnoticed. 
 
 "Takin' our measure," observed Bill Roberts, 
 cockswain of the Captain's gig, turning to Tom 
 Grattan, the thickset, black-headed captain of the 
 maintop. The latter grinned up at him. 
 
 " There'll be the Divil among the tailors," he said. 
 
 The tall foretopman, who was standing near by, 
 folded his heavy arms across his chest. 
 
 " We'll have some lively tumbUng here in about 
 a minute, take my word for that, mates," he chuc- 
 kled, " or my name's not Jack Lange " ; and as he 
 spoke. Captain Hull, followed by all of his lieuten- 
 ants, came up on deck. The Captain turned and 
 spoke a few words to Mr. Cunningham, the ship's 
 master. The latter, followed by three or four mid- 
 shipmen, hurried forward. Some of the men 
 advanced to meet him. 
 
 "All of you to your stations," he ordered quietly. 
 " Gunners, prepare to cast loose and provide port 
 and starboard main-deck guns. The rest stand by 
 ready to make sail if we get a wind offshore." 
 
 He gave the orders for the capstan bars to be 
 fitted, and turning to the ship armorer he told him 
 to provide cutlasses and small-arms for the crew. 
 
64 The Coward 
 
 Quietly boarding-nettings were made ready to be 
 spread, the magazines were opened, even buckets of 
 sand were brought and placed about; sand to be 
 used in case the decks became too slippery from 
 the blood. Down in the cockpit the doctor had 
 laid out his knives and saws on the table. In five 
 minutes the Constitution had been prepared for 
 action. And all this had been accomplished without 
 a sound, without a shouted order or the shrilling of 
 a pipe ! 
 
 Captain Hull inspected ship. Silent, deep-breath- 
 ing men watched him as he passed along. At every 
 division he stopped and said a few words. " Lads, 
 we are not going to give this man up upon demand. 
 Remember the Chesapeake. We are going to de- 
 fend ourselves if necessary, and be ready for it." 
 He made the same speech in about the same words 
 at least half a dozen times. Then he went into his 
 cabin and donned his best new uniform, with a 
 shining pair of bullion epaulets. This done, he gave 
 a touch to his shirt frills before the glass and went 
 on deck. 
 
 Signals were flying in the British fleet, and now 
 the forts were displaying little lines of striped bunt- 
 ing. There was scarce breeze enough to toss them 
 in the air. The sleepy old town of Portsmouth 
 looked out upon the harbor. Soon it might be 
 watching a sight that it never would forget. Per- 
 
The Coward 65 
 
 haps history would be made here in the next few 
 minutes, and all this time the fugitive lay cowering 
 among the water-butts in the mid-hold. 
 
 A breeze sprang up by noon, and the two nearest 
 vessels of the fleet, a thirty-eight-gun frigate, and 
 a razee of fifty, slipped their moorings and came 
 down before it. A hum of excitement ran through 
 the Yankee ship. There was not sufficient wind to 
 move her through the water ; but the capstan was 
 set agoing, and slowly she moved up to her anchor. 
 As the smaller English vessel drifted down, it was 
 seen that her men were at quarters. It was the 
 same with the razee. But without a hail they 
 dropped their anchors, one on each side of the 
 Constitution s bows, at about the distance of a cable's 
 length. There they waited, in grim silence. The men 
 made faces at one another, and grimaced and gestured 
 through the open ports. The officers, gathered 
 in groups aft, paid no attention to their neighbors. 
 
 There followed more signalling. A twelve-oared 
 barge left the flagship for the admiralty pier. From 
 the direction of the town came the sounds of a 
 bugle and the steady thrumming of drums. A long 
 red line trailed by one of the street corners. Al- 
 ready crowds began to gather on the housetops and 
 the water-front. Some clouds formed in the west 
 that looked as if a breeze might be forthcoming. 
 Hull watched the sky anxiously. 
 
66 The Coward 
 
 The midday meal was served with the men still 
 at their posts. There was no movement made on 
 either side. Toward evening the wind came. No 
 sooner had it ruffled the surface of the water than 
 the Constitution^ whose cable had been up and down 
 all the day, lifted her anchor from the bottom, and 
 with her main topsail against the mast, she backed 
 away from her close proximity to her neighbors. 
 Then, turning on her heel, she pointed her bow for 
 the harbor mouth. It was necessary for her to sail 
 past every vessel in the fleet. Drums rolled as she 
 approached. Men could be seen scurrying to and 
 fro, and as she passed by the flagship, a brand-new 
 seventy-four, her three tiers of guns frowned evilly 
 down, and a half-port dropped with a clatter. A 
 sigh of relief went up as the Constitution passed by 
 unchallenged. 
 
 There were but three vessels now to pass, — a 
 sloop of war, a large brig, and a forty-four-gun 
 frigate that lay well to the mouth of the harbor. 
 The latter, apparently in obedience to signals, was 
 getting in her anchor and preparing to get under 
 way ; but before the Constitution had reached her 
 the breeze died down, and before twilight was over 
 it was dead calm. Hull dropped his anchor, and 
 close beside him, the Englishman dropped his. He 
 was at least two minutes longer taking in his top- 
 sails. It continued calm throughout the early 
 
The Coward 67 
 
 watches of the night. At three o'clock in the 
 morning there was a sound of many oars. The 
 officers were on the alert. "They are coming down 
 to attack us in small boats/' suggested one of the 
 junior lieutenants. But soon it was perceived that 
 such was not the intention, for in the dim light the 
 big brig could be seen approaching, towed by a 
 dozen boat's crews working at the oars. There 
 was no reason for longer maintaining any secrecy, 
 and Hull called his crew to quarters in the usual 
 fashion. The sounds might have been heard on 
 shore; but the brig, when she had once reached 
 a berth on the American's quarter, dropped her 
 anchor quietly. 
 
 With the gray of morning came a new wind from 
 the westward, and with it the Constitution slipped 
 out of port, the two vessels that had menaced her 
 all night long not making a movement to prevent 
 her going. Once well out in the channel, the feel- 
 ing of suspense was succeeded by one of relief and 
 joy. The fugitive, soaked with bilge water, shiver- 
 ing and hungry, emerged from his hiding-place as 
 he felt the movement of the vessel's saiUng. 
 
 " How is that man McGovern doing ? " asked 
 
 Captain Hull of Lieutenant Morris, who was dining 
 
 with him in the cabin. " He ought to be of some 
 
 use after the trouble and worry he has caused us." 
 
 " I'm sorry to say he isn't," responded Morris, 
 
68 The Coward 
 
 shrugging his shoulders. " He isn't worth powder. 
 Why, even the forecastle boys cufF him about and 
 bully him ! He not only lacks spirit, but he is one 
 of those men, I think, who are somehow born cow- 
 ards. But he has been a sailor at some time or 
 other, I take it, although he told me that he was only 
 cook's helper in the galley on board the Poictiers. 
 That's his billet now on board of us, by the way." 
 
 It was true : McGovern not only bore the name 
 of a coward, but he looked it, every inch of him. 
 His shifty eyes would lift up for an instant, and 
 then slide away. His elbow was always raised as if 
 to ward off a blow. He acted as if he expected to 
 have things thrown at him. He invited ill treat- 
 ment by his every look, and he received many 
 blows, and many things were thrown at him. And 
 the unthinking made fun of all this, and used him 
 for their dirty work, and he did not resent it. He 
 took orders from the powder-monkeys, and cringed 
 to the steerage steward. As to the officers and mid- 
 shipmen, he trembled when they approached him, 
 and after they had passed he would spring forward 
 and hide somewhere, panting, as if he had escaped 
 some danger. The sight of the boatswain deprived 
 him of the power of speech. He acted Hke a cur 
 that had been whipped, and in fact he lived a dog's 
 life. And yet for this man, those who despised 
 him would have gone to the bottom. Aye, and 
 
The Coward 69 
 
 cheerfully, for behind him lay the question soon to 
 be cause enough for the shedding of much blood. 
 
 When the Constitution reached New York, Mc- 
 Govern disappeared. 
 
 It was early in the month of June, 18 12. There 
 was evidence of a feeling of great uneasiness that 
 prevailed throughout the length and breadth of the 
 country. In the coffee-houses and taverns, at the 
 corners of the streets, in the gatherings in drawing- 
 room or kitchen, there was but one subject talked 
 about — the approaching war with England. It was 
 inevitable, naught could prevent it, was the opinion 
 of some ; while others, more cautious, saw nothing 
 in the approaching strife but the dimming of the 
 American star of commerce which had arisen, and 
 death to progress in arts and manufactures. Their 
 flag would be swept from off the sea ; the little navy 
 of a handful of ships would have to be dragged up 
 into the shallows, and there dismantled and perhaps 
 never be set afloat again. Little did they know of 
 the glorious epoch awaiting. The makers of it 
 were the sailormen in whose cause the country was 
 soon to rise. 
 
 Jack Lange was hurrying along Front Street; 
 he had been transferred from the Constitution to the 
 Wasp, It was but a moment before that he had 
 landed. He had the tall water-roll in his gait. He 
 
70 
 
 The Coward 
 
 was very jaunty in appearance, with his clean, 
 white breeches very much belled at the bottom, his 
 short blue jacket and glazed cap, and from the 
 smile on his face one could see that he was very 
 well pleased with himself. The half-fathom of rib- 
 bon that hung over his left ear would occasionally 
 trail out behind like a homing pennant. He was 
 bound for Brownjohn's wharf, where he knew he 
 might fall in with some of his old messmates and 
 gather up the news. As he luffed sharp about a 
 corner he passed some one hurrying in the opposite 
 direction. It was a man of about thirty years of age. 
 His arms were held stiff at his side, and his face 
 was twitching nervously. His eyes were rolling in 
 excitement. Jack Lange turned, and lifting one 
 hand to the side of his mouth, he shouted : " Ship 
 ahoy, there ! " The other man whirled quickly, and 
 the two stood looking at one another for an instant 
 before either spoke. Then the big sailor advanced. 
 
 " What's the hurry, messmate ? " he said. " This 
 is McGovern, isn't it ? Don't you remember me ? " 
 
 " Sure I remember you," returned the other in a 
 voice with a touch of a rich brogue. " Have you 
 heard the news ? " he added suddenly, his hand 
 trembling as he touched Lange on the arm. 
 
 " What is it — about war ? " asked Jack, eagerly. 
 ' " Aye, the war, d'ye mind that ? There'll be great 
 doings before long ! '* 
 
The Coward 71 
 
 " I suppose they'll lay the navy up in ordinary, 
 and we poor fellows will join the sorefoots with a 
 musket over our shoulders." 
 
 " Not a bit of it ; they're going to outfit and sail 
 to meet 'em," responded McGovern. " I'm off to 
 tell my folks." 
 
 The news was all about the town. People were 
 running hither and thither, clapping on their hats, 
 women called to one another from the windows of 
 the houses, crowds commenced to gather. Suddenly 
 Jack hesitated. Surely it was a cheer, a rousing, 
 sailors' cheer, off to the left down the alley ! He 
 Hstened again, and giving a hitch to his breeches, he 
 started in a lumbering, clumsy gait, swinging his 
 cap about his head. " Hurray ! " he bellowed at 
 top lung as he saw in a crowd gathered before one 
 of the little taverns the uniforms of some of the 
 Constitution s men, and recognized also Bill Roberts, 
 and his old messmate Grattan. 
 
 When the JVasp sailed again, she carried between 
 her decks as fine a crew as ever hauled a rope or 
 manned a yard. Some of the men who had served 
 on board the Constitution now swung their ham- 
 mocks in the crowded forecastle of the little 
 sloop. 
 
 Grattan and Roberts were in the same watch, the 
 port, which was in charge of young Lieutenant 
 James Biddle. Jack Lange was in the other watch, 
 
72 
 
 The Coward 
 
 and with him were two of the Constitution s men, — 
 the little, black-eyed gunner, and a heavy, thickset 
 man, who at first glance appeared to be too fat and 
 clumsy ever to be a topman ; yet he was, and one 
 of the best. 
 
 Lange was stowing away his hammock but a few 
 hours after the IVasp had gotten under way, when 
 the short, thickset man approached him. 
 
 " D'ye see who is on board with us ?" he asked. 
 He pointed forward. 
 
 There, sitting with his back against the bulwarks 
 was the Coward, his eyes staring straight before 
 him, and his fingers and toes — for he was bare- 
 footed — working nervously. Soon there came an 
 order to shorten sail. There was a scramble to the 
 shrouds, and among the first to reach them was 
 McGovern. Close beside him was the fat topman. 
 
 " Out of the way, you swab ! " he cursed, striking 
 out with his elbow. " This is man's work," he 
 added. " Out of the way, can't you ! " 
 
 The hot blood rushed to McGovern's face. He 
 hesitated. At that moment some one pushed him 
 from behind, and before he knew it he had been 
 hustled oflF the bulwarks to the deck. Without a 
 glance behind him he slunk down the hatchway. 
 And so he went back to rinsing the dishes in the 
 galley. 
 
 Inside of three months the Wasp was back in 
 
The Coward 73 
 
 port again. Once more McGovern disappeared. 
 No one missed him, and no one thought about it. 
 
 On the 13th of October Captain Jacob Jones set 
 sail again in his trim vessel, but just before the Wasp 
 had left her moorings a boat rowed with quick, 
 nervous strokes put out from shore. The man at 
 the oars was doing his best to catch the sloop of 
 war before she should gain headway. In the stern 
 sheets sat an old woman. Now and then she 
 would encourage the man pulling at the oars. 
 There was a short, choppy sea, and both figures in 
 the little boat were soaked with spray. 
 
 Suddenly the topsails filled, the headsails blew out 
 with a vicious snap, and just as the sloop lurched 
 forward, the little boat was abreast the forechains. 
 The man dropped the oars, and, springing out- 
 board, managed to catch the lower shroud , with 
 agility he hauled himself up arm's length and 
 sprawled over the bulwarks, down on deck. It was 
 McGovern, and his strange coming on board had 
 been observed by many. He arose quickly and 
 gaining the shrouds once more, he waved his hand. 
 " Good-by, mither ! " he cried, and then he turned 
 back to greet a burst of laughter. But all hands 
 were too busy with the getting under way to pay 
 much attention to him, and he disappeared be- 
 low. 
 
 The next morning it blew a heavy gale, and for 
 
74 The Coward 
 
 four days the wind lasted, and even after the danger 
 had passed the day broke with a heavy swell on the 
 sea and the weather yet boisterous. The Wasp's 
 previous cruise had been uneventful. She had 
 failed to fall in with the enemy, and now this con- 
 tinued stress of weather made the sailors, ever prone 
 to find reasons in their superstitions, to think that 
 they must have aboard with them a Jonah ; some 
 one who brought ill luck, and why they should have 
 settled upon poor McGovern it would be hard to 
 tell. Perhaps he was ignorant of the reason for the 
 new meaning of the looks of dislike and suspicion 
 that were cast at him, or perhaps he failed to notice 
 them. At any rate he made no comment. 
 
 Surely it was not his fault if the second day out, 
 during the height of the storm, the jibboom had 
 carried away, and two of the starboard watch went 
 with it and were lost. 
 
 There was a great deal of excitement attending 
 this particular daybreak, the morning of the i8th, for 
 the night before, after the clouds had cleared away 
 and the stars had shone brightly forth, several large 
 sails had been reported to the eastward. Captain 
 Jones had laid his course to get to windward of 
 them, so as to have the weather-gage when day 
 came. The vessels had disappeared as the weather 
 had thickened a little, and now all hands had gath- 
 ered on deck, and the sloop was romping along 
 
The Coward 75 
 
 through the sHght drizzle, almost dipping her yard 
 arms at times in the heavy seas that raced past. 
 
 "There they are. — Sails off the lee bow, two 
 points away ! " shouted a lookout from the forecastle. 
 It had cleared a trifle, and there they were, sure 
 enough, seven vessels, and nearer to, was a trim man- 
 of-war brig. She was edging up slowly, taking in sail 
 as she did so, and the Wasp swung off to meet her. 
 
 " English, begad ! '' exclaimed Captain Jones. 
 " Have the drummer beat to quarters, Mr. Biddle, 
 as soon as you get down the topgallant yard and 
 shorten sail." 
 
 "Very good, sir. — Hello, she shows the Spanish 
 flag." 
 
 " Never mind that; she's English, I'll beta thou- 
 sand." 
 
 Biddle bawled out the orders, and the usual helter- 
 skelter rush, from which emerges such careful work 
 and such wonderful precision, followed. But the 
 first man to gain the weather shrouds this time was 
 McGovern. Since the news that the enemy had 
 been sighted had been passed below, he had been 
 very much in evidence. Instead of his greasy scul- 
 lion's rags, he wore a clean suit of canvas. His 
 white shirt was trimmed with blue silk, and his long 
 hair, that usually straggled down his cheeks, was 
 twisted into a neat queue down his back. He paid 
 no attention to the questions addressed to him, took 
 
76 The Coward 
 
 no heed of the merriment (for men will jest on 
 strange occasions) ; but kept his eyes shifting from 
 the group of officers on the quarter-deck, to the on- 
 coming vessel that was plunging heavily in the great 
 seas. When he had seen the Spanish flag, his face 
 had fallen ; but Bill Roberts was standing close 
 beside him. 
 
 " Never mind that, my lads ! " he roared to those 
 about him. " No one but a John Bull or a Yankee 
 would bring his ship along like that ; take my word 
 for it, my hearties ! " and then had come the order 
 to shorten sail. 
 
 McGovern was across the deck like a shot, at 
 least three feet in advance of the next man, who, as 
 luck would have it, was the short, fat topman before 
 referred to. Whatever he may have thought was 
 McGovern's proper sphere and natural instincts, it 
 required but a glance to show that he knew what he 
 was about as he started clearing away the parel 
 lashings and then unreeving the running-gear. It 
 requires but two men at the masthead to make fast 
 the downhauls and look out for the lifts, and on 
 this occasion there were two pairs of skilful hands at 
 work. The older seamen looked into McGovern's 
 face wonderingly ; but the latter was going silently 
 about his work, occasionally looking out across the 
 rolling white of the sea at the little brig that would 
 soon be within gunshot. He could plainly make 
 
The Coward 77 
 
 out the red coats of the marines grouped along the 
 rail. " Sway away ! " and the topgallant yards came 
 safely down to the deck. The men were at quarters 
 now, and the matches were lighted. 
 
 "Well done, McGovern ! " exclaimed the fat 
 sailor, with a shamefaced smile. " Well done, Mc- 
 Govern ! " called one of the midshipmen, grasping 
 .him by the arm. " Here, take No. 2 at this twelve- 
 pounder. Do you know the orders, lad ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir, yes," answered the Coward, excitedly. 
 " I was captain of a gun once, o' truth I was." 
 
 But a pistol shot's distance now separated the two 
 vessels. Captain Jones hailed through his trumpet. 
 Down came the Spanish flag, and there was the red 
 cross of England ! The brig let go a broadside ; 
 but just before she did so, the sound of a cheer had 
 come down on the wind. 
 
 There is no time to describe the details of the 
 action. But few of the Wasp' s crew had been in 
 actual combat before. Soon there were deep red 
 spots on the deck ; there were groans and curses, 
 and much sulphur smoke. Occasionally the muz- 
 zles of the guns would dip deep into the water as 
 the Wasp hove down into the hollow of the surge. 
 A sharp crack aloft, and down came the main top- 
 mast, and with it fell the topsail yard. It tangled in 
 the braces, and rendered the headsails useless. The 
 Englishman was playing havoc with the rigging, 
 
78 The Coward 
 
 braces, and running-gear of the Wasp. Grape and 
 round shot were mangling everything aloft. 
 
 There had been a few men in the foretop when 
 the action had commenced. One of them was 
 Roberts. Suddenly glancing up from his gun, 
 McGovern saw a sight that made him start and cry 
 out, pointing. There was Bill trying weakly to haul 
 himself over the edge of the top. Blood was run- 
 ning from a wound in his forehead, and his left arm 
 hung useless ; his leg was hurt also. But he was 
 still alive and dimly conscious. At a sudden lurch 
 of the vessel, he almost pitched forward down to the 
 deck. Then as McGovern watched him, he ap- 
 peared to give up hope, and, twisting his hand into 
 the bight of a rope, he lay there without moving. 
 But no man could live there long ! Splinters were 
 flying from the masts ; blocks were swinging free 
 and dashing to and fro ; new holes were being torn 
 every second in the roaring, flapping sails. It may 
 have been that no one else had time to think about 
 it ; but McGovern did not hesitate. He threw 
 down the sponge and jumped into the slackened 
 shrouds. 
 
 " Come out of that, you fool ! " somebody shouted 
 at him from below ; but he did not pause. A round 
 shot whizzed by his elbow. A musket-ball carried 
 away a ratline above his head, just as he reached 
 forward. He feit as if a hot flame had licked 
 
" Carefully he lowered away.' 
 
The Coward 79 
 
 across his shoulder, and in an instant more his white 
 shirt was white no longer, and was dinging to his 
 back. But it was nothing but a graze, and, un- 
 daunted, he kept on ascending. He hauled himself 
 into the top. There lay a dead marine, shot through 
 the temple. Now he bent over the prostrate sailor. 
 Yes, he was alive ! Roberts was breathing faintly. 
 Despite the interest and excitement of the action 
 men were watching him from below. But he must 
 work fast if he was to save a life — a bullet at any 
 time might complete the work already begun. He 
 tried to hft the heavy figure on to his shoulders, 
 but found he could not. But good fortune ! One 
 of the halliards had been shot away aloft, and hung 
 dangling across the yard. McGovern saw the op- 
 portunity. Passing the bitter end of it around 
 Roberts' body, close underneath the arms, he made 
 it fast. Then passing the rest of it through the 
 shrouds he gave first a heave that swung the pros- 
 trate figure clear of the blood-stained top, and then 
 carefullv he lowered away until at last the body 
 reached the deck. 
 
 Somehow the musket-balls had stopped their 
 humming through the upper rigging, and even the 
 firing of the IVasp had slackened, as McGovern, 
 reaching for one of the stays, rode down it safely 
 and reached the deck. And now occurred a thing 
 that has been unchronicled, and yet has had its 
 
8o The Coward 
 
 parallel in many instances of history. A cheer 
 arose, a strong, manly cheer, — it came from across 
 the water ; it preceded by an instant the roaring of 
 the hoarse voices close about him. But McGov- 
 ern's ear had caught it. 
 
 " Hark ! " he cried, pushing his way forward to 
 reach his station. " Hark, they're cheerin' ! They 
 must have thought we've struck. We'll show 'em ! " 
 He picked up his sponge again. 
 
 Now the firing became incessant. Steadily as the 
 blows of a hammer were delivered the telling shots 
 from the Wasp' s port divisions. The flames of 
 powder scorched the enemy's bows. All at once 
 there came a crash. The jibboom of the Englishman 
 swept across the deck, tearing away the shrouds 
 and braces, and then with a heave and a lurch the 
 vessels came together, grinding and crunching with 
 a sound of splintering and tearing of timbers as they 
 rolled in the heavy sea. 
 
 There was not a man on board the Wasp that did 
 not expect to see the English sailors come swarming 
 over the bow of their vessel, and drop down to fight 
 in the old-fashioned way, hand to hand and eye to 
 eye. But there must have been some delay. For 
 an instant there was a silence except for the ripping 
 of the Englishman's bow against the Wasp' s quarter. 
 But the red-crossed flag was still flying. 
 
 Captain Jones saw his opportunity. The enemy 
 
The Coward 8i 
 
 lay in so fair a position to be raked that some of 
 the Wasp's guns extended through her bow ports. 
 The men, who, without waiting for orders had 
 caught up cutlasses and boarding-pikes, were or- 
 dered back to their stations, and at such close quar- 
 ters the broadside that followed shattered the enemy's 
 topsides as might an explosion on her 'tween decks. 
 Two guns of the after division, loaded with round 
 and grape, swept her full length. 
 
 But some of the more impetuous of the crew had 
 not heard, or perhaps had not heeded the order to 
 return to their stations. Jack Lange had made a 
 great leap of it, and had caught the edge of the Eng- 
 lishman's netting. As an acrobat twists himself to 
 circle his trapeze, he swung himself by sheer strength 
 on to the bowsprit, and gaining his feet, he stood 
 there an instant, then he jumped over the bulwarks 
 on to the enemy's deck and disappeared. The 
 handful of men who had sought to follow his leader- 
 ship had all failed their object, for a slant of the 
 wind had hove the two vessels so far apart that they 
 were almost clear of the tangle of shrouds and top- 
 hamper that had made them fast. But one man 
 had made a spring of it and had caught the bight of 
 one of the downhauls that was hanging free. Hand 
 over hand he hauled himself up to the nettings, and 
 after considerable difficulty — for he was all but ex- 
 hausted — he succeeded in getting his body half-way 
 
82 The Coward 
 
 across the bulwarks, and then with a lurch he dis- 
 appeared. During all this, not a shot had been 
 fired. Every one had watched with anxiety the 
 strange boarding party of two. What would be the 
 outcome of it ? Suddenly, as the sails that had been 
 tearing and flapping, filled, and the noise subsided, 
 a strange sound came down from the direction of 
 the other vessel. It was like a great chorused 
 groan — the mingling of many voices in a note of 
 agony ! Then with a crash they met again, the 
 English ship fouling hard and fast in the Wasf s 
 mizzen rigging. Lieutenant Biddle, followed by a 
 score of armed boarders, jumped upon the bulwarks 
 and endeavored to reach the other vessel and be the 
 first on board. In this he would have succeeded 
 had not little Midshipman Baker caught his officer's 
 coat-tails and endeavored to emulate his eagerness. 
 But at last the Lieutenant and his followers gained 
 the deck, there to be witness of a wonderful sight. 
 
 There was a wounded man limply leaning against 
 the wheel. Three officers were huddled near the 
 traffrail — but one was able to stand upon his feet; 
 the other two were badly wounded. Jack Lange 
 and McGovern the Coward had possession of the 
 ship. But somehow, overcome by the sight, they 
 had not left the forecastle, and it was Lieutenant 
 Biddle's own hand that lowered away the flag. 
 
 His Majesty's sloop of war Frolic was a prize. 
 
The Coward 83 
 
 Frightful had been the carnage ! But twenty of the 
 English crew were fit for duty. She was a charnel 
 ship. The JVasp had lost but five men killed, and 
 but five men wounded. Among the latter was 
 Bill Roberts. Although he was shot three times, 
 the surgeon declared that he would live. 
 
 To and fro the boats plied busily. The Frolic's 
 masts fell shortly after she had been boarded, and 
 now every effort was made to repair damages 
 and take care of the many wounded and the 
 dying. 
 
 Every one talked about McGovern, he who had 
 been the Coward ; he who had cringed to the loblolly 
 boys, and who had taken orders from the ward-room 
 steward ; who had washed dishes and dodged blows ; 
 he was the hero of the day. And how did he take all 
 this new glory, the admiring glances and the remarks 
 of his messmates ? Not as a vainglorious seeker of 
 reputation, not as a careless daredevil who had risked 
 recklessly his life for the mere excitement ; but as a 
 cool-headed, brave-hearted man, who while there was 
 yet work to do found no time to think of what had 
 been done. He was reincarnate, as if during the 
 fire and smoke, when the hand of death was every- 
 where, the spirit to do, and dare, had been born 
 within him. Forgotten had been the red scars 
 of the disgracing cat that seared his back. Here 
 was his chance to show what was in him ; to even 
 
84 The Coward 
 
 up matters with the power that had almost crushed 
 his soul. Every shot from the JVasf s side made 
 his heart beat with joy. The born fighter had been 
 awakened. He craved for more, and animated by 
 this feeling he went about his work with a half- 
 delirious strength that made him accomplish the 
 task of two men. All eyes were on him. His 
 officers had marked him. 
 
 " Sail ho ! '' called down one of the men who was 
 clearing away the wreckage aloft. " Sail ho ! off the 
 starboard bow." 
 
 Driven by the strong breeze that had blown 
 throughout the morning a great sail was bearing 
 down, looming larger and larger every minute. 
 The Wasp cleared for action. The Frolic^ aided by 
 the little jury masts that had been hastily rigged, 
 was ordered to bear away to the southward before 
 the wind. The JVasp^ wounded and bedraggled as 
 she was, bore up to meet the oncomer. 
 
 Slowly the great shape rose out of the water, sail 
 by sail. A tier of guns ! another ! and a third ! — 
 a seventy-four ! With two ridges of white foam 
 playing out from her broad bow, she bowled along 
 and passed so close that her great yard arms almost 
 overshadowed the little wounded sloop. There 
 came the sound of a single gun, and at this imperi- 
 ous order the Wasp's flag fluttered to the deck. It 
 had not needed this sight of the red cross curling 
 
The Coward 85 
 
 and uncurling across the white expanse of new sail 
 to mark her as one of the great guard ships of old 
 England. English she was from truck to keelson, 
 and long before she fired that disdainful shot 
 the gunners of the IVasp had put out their smoking 
 matches. 
 
 And McGovern had watched her come with an 
 ever-changing expression in his eyes. His face, 
 flushed with excitement and victory, had paled. 
 Once he had started as if to run below and hide. 
 There was something familiar in those towering 
 masts and that gleaming white figurehead, and as 
 she sailed on to retake the little Frolic^ McGovern 
 was compelled to hold fast to the bitts to prevent 
 himself from falling. The ports were crowded with 
 jeering faces. The quarter-deck rail was lined with 
 laughing officers, in cocked hats and white knee- 
 breeches. Under her stern gallery he read the word 
 Poictiers ! From that he glanced up at the main 
 yard arm. Men had swung there at the end of a 
 rope — yes, he had once seen a convulsive, struggling 
 figure black against the sky. Men would swing 
 there again ! The maxim that ^ a deserter has no 
 defence ' recurred to him. He glanced about. 
 Close by was a chain-shot, two nine-pound sohd 
 shot connected by a foot of heavy links. Like one 
 afraid of being seen, he skulked across the deck as 
 he had skulked in the davs before. He reached 
 
86 The Coward 
 
 the side where part of the bulwarks had been torn 
 away, and crouching there he passed the end of his 
 heavy belt through a link of the chain, and without 
 a sound lurched forward, all huddled up, and struck 
 sideways in the water. 
 
THE SCAPEGOAT 
 
THE SCAPEGOAT 
 
 IT was a famous dinner party that Captain 
 William Bainbridge, Commander of the 
 Charlestown Navy Yard, gave on the night 
 of the 31st of May, 18 13. In those days gentle- 
 men sat long at a table; they knew good wines 
 when they tasted them, and if they drank a great 
 deal at a sitting, they sipped slowly. 
 
 The cloth had been removed, and upon the shin- 
 ing mahogany rested two or three cut-glass decanters 
 filled with the best Madeira. Captain Bainbridge 
 sat at the head of the table, in a high-backed oaken 
 chair; he was dressed in a blue uniform coat, with 
 the gold-braided lapels thrown back over his 
 wide chest. In his snow-white shirt frill there 
 nestled a sparkling jewel given to him by the Sultan 
 of Turkey, upon the occasion when Bainbridge 
 had brought the old frigate George Washington into 
 the harbor of Constantinople and there for the first 
 time displayed the flag of the United States. 
 
 The candles had burned low in the candelabra, a 
 silence had fallen upon the company; it was evident 
 that something had interrupted the easy flow of wit 
 
 89 
 
90 The Scapegoat 
 
 and conversation. Captain James Lawrence, the 
 guest of the evening, was in full uniform, with 
 epaulets and great gold buttons as big as half-dollars. 
 He sat opposite Captain Bainbridge, with both 
 elbows on the table, cracking walnuts and eating 
 them as if to stave off hunger ; his face was flushed, 
 and a frown was on his brow. A young man of 
 not more than twenty, with a gleaming mass of gold 
 braid on his left shoulder, the mark of the lieutenant, 
 had the next seat to him ; he was nervously drum- 
 ming on the table with his finger-nails. Occasion- 
 ally he would glance from Lawrence to Bainbridge, 
 and then at the two other officers who were sitting 
 there in constrained silence. 
 
 Well did they all know how easy it was for the 
 word to be spoken that would fire the smouldering 
 mine, and change what had been a jovial gathering 
 to the prologue of a tragedy. Men had to be care- 
 ful how they spoke in those days. There could 
 never be any brawling or careless flying of words ; 
 courtesy and gallantry limited their power of per- 
 sonal offence ; but epithets or implications once 
 given expression could not easily be withdrawn. 
 Men who had been friends and who had fought for 
 the same cause would, with the stilted hat-tipping 
 and snuff-offering fashion of the time, meet one 
 another in the gray of morning under God's sky 
 and do one another to the death. 
 
The Scapegoat 91 
 
 At last Lawrence spoke. 
 
 " Are you not judging me harshly in this matter, 
 sir ? " he said. " You say you doubt my caution.'* 
 His gaze shifted from the brilliant jewel in Bain- 
 bridge's breast to the frank, manly face above. 
 
 " Your caution ; yes. Captain," was the return ; 
 " your courage, my dear sir, never." 
 
 Lawrence cracked another walnut with a loud 
 report. "Surely in my little affair with the Peacock 
 you have granted that I used judgment ; and in 
 regard to the distribution of prize money, which has 
 not seemed to suit our mutual views — " 
 
 Bainbridge interrupted him. " That is a ques- 
 tion apart from our present discussion, sir," he said. 
 " I pray that you will postpone it. But I can only 
 say for the benefit of all concerned that I do not 
 doubt an easy adjustment. For what you decide 
 must perforce be agreeable to me." 
 
 "You are my senior — " 
 
 "And for that reason I have taken the oppor- 
 tunity, as you have brought up the subject, to 
 express my opinions. I cannot order you ; it is out- 
 side my province or my wish. Before the company 
 you have brought up this matter, and for that 
 reason I have discussed it. Every one must agree 
 that the Department authorities at Washington have 
 treated you most unhandsomely. Had you been 
 given the command of the Constitution, as was first 
 
92 The Scapegoat 
 
 intended and promised you, and were she in a con- 
 dition to put to sea, I should say nothing but what 
 would encourage you to exercise despatch." 
 
 " Ah, if I but had the Constitution and her crew," 
 put in Lawrence, with a sigh ; " if I but had them." 
 Suddenly he brought his strong, clenched fist down 
 upon the table with a crash : " Then this English 
 captain would not be flaunting his flag at the harbor 
 mouth, daring me to come on and fight him ; sham- 
 ing us all here where we lie at anchor ! The Chesa- 
 peake is ready ! " 
 
 " Ah, but she is the Chesapeake,'' interrupted 
 Bainbridge. 
 
 " True enough ; but why not give me the chance 
 to wipe the stain from off her name ? " He suddenly 
 arose, and leaning across the table spoke quickly and 
 vehemently. " Order two hundred of the Constitu- 
 tion s men on board of her, and I will sail out and 
 give battle to-morrow ! I doubt not, nor do I fear 
 the consequences. I ask this of you as a proof of 
 friendship." 
 
 In his excitement, Lawrence upset one of the tall 
 wine-glasses. It tinkled musically, and, reaching 
 forward, he filled it to the brim, and Bainbridge 
 waited until this had been done. 
 
 " I cannot grant your request. Captain Lawrence," 
 he said quietly at last. " Your ship is in no condi- 
 tion to go out and fight at the moment. She has 
 
The Scapegoat 93 
 
 a green crew. Her running-gear has not been 
 tested/' 
 
 " Then let me go into the yard and call for volun- 
 teers ! " Lawrence interrupted hotly. 
 
 " I cannot prevent you taking men who are not 
 busily employed ; but I shall not order men from 
 work. 'Twould be sanctioning your action." 
 
 The mine was on the point of being fired ; the 
 fatal word was trembling on Lawrence's lips. The 
 boy lieutenant half rose from his chair; but Law- 
 rence controlled himself with an effort. He may 
 have realized how senseless it would have been to 
 impute to William Bainbridge lack of courage. He 
 may have thought of the wicked consequence of 
 such a speech. But he was obstinate. His nature 
 was not one to be thwarted easily. Throwing back 
 his shoulders and looking around the table, he 
 raised the brimming wine-glass to his lips. 
 
 "Then, here's to the success of the Chesapeake ! " 
 he blurted, and drained it to the bottom. " I shall 
 go out and fight this fellow to-morrow," he added 
 sullenly. " You gentlemen," turning to the others, 
 who were all officers of his luckless ship, " shall 
 share with me the honor." Turning, he walked to 
 the side of the room and picked up his cloak and 
 heavy bullion-edged cocked hat. 
 
 " Sir, to you good evening." 
 
 Bainbridge was about to speak ; but on second 
 
94 The Scapegoat 
 
 thought he remained silent and bowed slowly. 
 Without a word Lawrence, followed by three of his 
 officers, left the room. The young Lieutenant lin- 
 gered. His face had flushed when his captain had 
 spoken the word "glory,*' and yet the calm, dispas- 
 sionate judgment of Bainbridge had appealed to him. 
 He was a beautiful lad, this officer, with long-lashed 
 eyes like those of a young girl. His light brown 
 hair curled softly over his white forehead. One 
 would expect nothing but laughter and song from 
 those lips, and it needed the strong, square-cut jaw 
 to give the note of decision and character to his face. 
 It redeemed it from being too classical ; too beauti- 
 fully feminine. He loved James Lawrence, his 
 commander, and truly a boy's love for a man who 
 excites his admiration is much like a woman's in its 
 tenderness and devotion. Lawrence had been a 
 father to him, or better, an elder brother, for the Chesa- 
 peake s commander was but thirty-two years of age. 
 Young William Cox had been much at Captain 
 Bainbridge's house since the Chesapeake had dropped 
 her anchor in the Charles River, and the Comman- 
 dant had watched with approval the mutual attraction 
 that existed between the young officer and the beau- 
 tiful Miss Hyleger, who was the sister of Bain- 
 bridge's wife. He probably knew what was going 
 through the young man's mind. As he followed 
 after the others Bainbridge stopped him. 
 
The Scapegoat 95 
 
 " Good night, James ; may God watch over you. 
 You will do your duty ; of that I am well as- 
 sured/' 
 
 " Thank you, sir," the lad returned, flushing as 
 he took Bainbridge's hand in both of his. 
 
 When left alone, the Commodore sat there in his 
 great armchair, and on his face was a great shadow 
 of sorrow. 
 
 Lawrence did not go on board his ship that night ; 
 but Lieutenant Ludlow, Mr. White, the sailing- 
 master, and Lieutenants Cox and Ballard repaired 
 on board at once to make ready for the approach- 
 ing conflict. All night long James Lawrence 
 walked alone under the trees in the river park, and 
 at early dawn, still dressed in his resplendent 
 uniform, with his silk stockings and white knee- 
 breeches, he made his appearance at the Navy Yard. 
 Some sixty men responded to his call. But the 
 older sailors wagged their heads. It was not neces- 
 sary. Ah, that was it ! Had it been a case of do 
 or die, there was not a man who would not have 
 thrown down his work and jumped at the chance to 
 fight. But the Chesapeake I she was an unlucky 
 vessel. Sailors avoided her. Her crew was riffraff^ 
 in a measure ; men not wanted on other ships ; 
 many of foreign birth ; Portuguese and Spaniards ; 
 a few Danes, and without doubt some renegade 
 servants of King George. 
 
96 The Scapegoat 
 
 As the morning mist cleared away from the water, 
 there in the offing was the English frigate that had 
 been hovering and flaunting her challenging flag for 
 the past three days. . . . Boston was all agog with 
 the news. The whole city had flocked to the water 
 front. Before nine o'clock the Chesapeake was sur- 
 rounded by a flotilla of small craft. Men cheered 
 themselves hoarse. Flags floated from the build- 
 ings, and women waved handkerchiefs from the 
 docks. But yet, some of the wise ones wagged 
 their heads. 
 
 The bulwarks and top sides of the Chesapeake 
 had been freshly painted, and the paint was not yet 
 dry. As her crew stretched out the new yellow 
 hempen running-gear, they smudged everything 
 with the pigment. There was no time to be care- 
 ful ; it was a hurly-burly haste on every hand. The 
 officers were reading the lists of the men at the 
 guns. They did not know them by name or sight, 
 and were trying to impress their faces on their 
 minds at this short notice. There was bawling and 
 hauling and shouting and confusion. How differ- 
 ent from the clockwork methods on board the Con- 
 stitution ! But at last everything was as ready as it 
 could be. Lawrence, after his sleepless night, pale 
 but nerved to tension by excitement, came from the 
 cabin. As he looked down the deck, his spirits 
 must have sunk. Things were not shipshape — at 
 
The Scapegoat 97 
 
 this very instant he may have regretted that he 
 had formed the decision to go out and fight. But 
 it was too late to withdraw ! He gave the orders, 
 and, to the tune of Yankee Doodle, they began get- 
 ting in the anchor. The pilot was on board, stand- 
 ing beside the helmsman. Lawrence went back to 
 his cabin and wrote a letter that has only recently 
 been given to the public. It was addressed to 
 James Cox, the uncle of young Lieutenant Cox, of 
 his own ship. The whole tone of the missive dis- 
 plays the despondent attitude of mind under which 
 Lawrence was now laboring. The postscript that 
 he added, after referring to the possibility of his 
 untimely end, reads as follows : — 
 
 "10 A.M. The frigate is in plain sight from our 
 decks, and we are now getting under way.'* 
 
 It was the last sentence he ever penned. As 
 soon as he had sealed the letter he came on deck 
 and delivered it to the pilot, who left the ship within 
 half an hour. 
 
 Now came the ordeal. The small boats that had 
 surrounded the vessel were being left behind as she 
 gained headway. But some of the faster sailers 
 among them managed to keep pace, and cheer after 
 cheer sounded. A crew of rowers in a whaleboat 
 kept abreast of the Chesapeake s bows, shouting 
 words of encouragement to the crew. But the men 
 did not appear eager. The officers could not help 
 
 H 
 
98 The Scapegoat 
 
 but notice it, and the impression must have been 
 most heart breaking. 
 
 " Muster the crew/' Lawrence ordered at last, 
 turning to young Ludlow ; " I will say a few words 
 to them." The men gathered in the waist, whisper- 
 ing and talking among themselves. 
 
 "William," said Lawrence, to Lieutenant Cox, 
 before he began to make the customary address that 
 a ship's captain in those days made before going into 
 action, — "William, I know that I can trust you 
 — you will do your duty." The young man at his 
 side touched his cap. " You will find me here, sir," 
 he repHed, "unless my duty is elsewhere." Law- 
 rence stepped a few feet forward. 
 
 " Men of the Chesapeake^'' said he, " it is our 
 good fortune to be able to answer the call that our 
 country has made upon our honor. We will answer 
 it with our lives if necessary. Do your duty ; fight 
 well and nobly. Your country's eyes are on you, 
 and in her heart she thanks you in advance. Yon- 
 der British frigate must return under our lee. Let 
 no shots be wasted. To your stations." 
 
 There was some low grumbling off to one side of 
 the deck. A black-visaged, shifty-eyed fellow came 
 pushing to the front. A double allowance of grog 
 had been already served ; but many of the men had 
 been imbibing freely, owing to the proximity of the 
 shore and the ease with which liquor could be 
 
The Scapegoat 99 
 
 obtained. The man strode out before the crowd 
 and stopped within a few paces of the Captain. He 
 spoke in broken English. Lawrence listened in 
 anger and almost in despair. The man complained 
 in insolent tones that he and his messmates had not 
 been paid some prize money due them now a long 
 time. Lawrence's hand sought the hilt of his sword. 
 He would have run the fellow through as he well 
 deserved, did he not see that among the crew he 
 numbered many followers. Their surly looks and 
 gestures proved their evil temper. The man declared 
 that unless he and thirty of the others were -paid at once 
 they would decline to fight. 
 
 Here was mutiny at the outset ! A fine state of 
 affairs to exist on board a vessel going to fight a 
 battle. . . . There was nothing for it but to ac- 
 quiesce. He could not treat the cur as he deserved. 
 
 "Take these men to the cabin and pay them 
 what they say is due them," said Lawrence, bitterly. 
 There was not money enough on board the ship, 
 and he was forced to go to the cabin himself, and 
 sign due bills for the amount. And all this time 
 the enemy was in the offing prepared and eager. 
 
 The English frigate hauled her wind and put out 
 to sea as she saw the Chesapeake approach. Her 
 flag was flying, and now Lawrence unfurled his. 
 At the main and mizzen and at the peak he flew the 
 Stars and Stripes, while at the fore he displayed 
 
loo The Scapegoat 
 
 the motto flag : " Free trade and sailors' rights." 
 On the two vessels sailed over the bright, sunlit 
 sea. The day was almost without a cloud. One 
 or two small sailing vessels still followed in the 
 Chesapeake s wake. At four p.m. she fired a chal- 
 lenging gun. 
 
 There were no seamen of the good old school 
 that could not if they had seen the English ship but 
 admire her. With calm precision the Shannon — for 
 it was well known who she was — braced back her 
 maintopsails and hove to. In silence the two man- 
 oeuvred. At every point the English vessel had 
 the better of it. Which would fire first ? There 
 was one moment when the Chesapeake had the ad- 
 vantage. Owing to her clumsiness more than to her 
 agiUty, she came about within pistol-shot distance 
 under the enemy's stern. But her commander 
 held his fire. A minute more and they were on 
 even terms, sailing in dead silence beside one 
 another, nearing all the time — who would have 
 thought that they were craving each other's blood ? 
 The orders on board one ship could be heard on 
 board the other. The word "Ready" was passed at 
 the same moment; but the discharge of the Eng- 
 lishman's broadside preceded that of the Chesapeake 
 by a perceptible moment. How well those guns 
 must have been trained ! Every one was double 
 shotted and heavily charged. The Chesapeake quiv- 
 
The Scapegoat loi 
 
 ered from the shock. In that second, in the time it 
 takes a man to catch his breath,^ the _whole aspe.ct of 
 affairs had changed. Mr. White, the sr.ihng-master, 
 was immediately killed; Mr- ^Balland, ,the -JPounh 
 Lieutenant, was mortally wounded. Ten sailors 
 fell dead to the decks. Twenty-three were badly 
 hurt. The bulwarks were crushed in, and the cabin 
 was torn to pieces. 
 
 " Steady ! " roared Lawrence. " Steady, boys, 
 have at them ! " 
 
 There was a marine with a musket in one of the 
 Englishman's tops. He was aiming at the resplen- 
 dent figure in gold epaulets, carefully as one aims at 
 a target, and at last he pulled the trigger. Law- 
 rence fell down on one knee ; but leaning against 
 the companionway, he pulled himself erect again. 
 Not an expression or exclamation came from him ; 
 but his white knee breeches were streaked and 
 stained with red. Nearer yet the two ships drifted. 
 Their crashing broadsides scorched each other. 
 The EngHshmen cheered, and the Yankees answered 
 them — the volunteers from the Charlestown yard 
 were giving a good account of themselves. But 
 several times the Chesapeake yawed and fell off her 
 course as if she had lost her head, like a man dizzy 
 from a blow that deadens the brain. And good 
 reason why : three men in succession were shot 
 away from her wheel. The expert riflemen placed 
 
I02 The Scapegoat 
 
 in the Shannon s mizzentop were doing their work 
 well. A pufF of wind took the American all aback, 
 she fell off and Gv/u'ng' about. Her anchor caught 
 in the Slidrmon's after port. And now not a gun 
 could be brought to bear ! Whole gun's crews left 
 their places and plunged down the companionway 
 to the deck below. But the Shannon was taking 
 advantage of her opportunity. Charges of grape 
 and canister raked and swept the decks. 
 
 Lawrence looked in despair at the frightful havoc. 
 He knew what now would happen. Every minute 
 he expected to see the English boarders come tum- 
 bling on board. Lieutenant Cox had been sent 
 below to take charge of the second division. Law- 
 rence looked for an officer. The only one in sight 
 was Lieutenant Ludlow. Had it not been for his 
 uniform no one would have known him. He was 
 blood and wounds from head to foot. He could 
 not stand erect, and was dragging himself about the 
 deck, one useless leg traihng behind him. 
 
 "The bugler! call the bugler!" thundered Law- 
 rence. " To repel boarders on the spar-deck ! 
 Where is the after-guard ? " 
 
 Ludlow fell, better than clambered, down the 
 main-hatch. " Pass the word for the bugler ! " he 
 cried. " Boarders away ! " But the bugler could 
 not be found. And good reason why. He was 
 down in the deep hold hiding amid the stores. 
 
The Scapegoat 103 
 
 Young Lieutenant Cox heard the order. " Boarders 
 away ! " he shouted. As he started to rally his 
 men and rush up from below, he was met by the 
 crowd fleeing from the terrible slaughter that was 
 taking place above. But at last he managed to 
 work his way up the companion ladder. He too 
 was v/ounded and bleeding — a splinter had gashed 
 him in the neck and another in the shoulder. 
 What a sight he saw ! Lawrence, his beloved 
 friend, his idol, weakly holding fast to one of the 
 belaying-pins, still repeating his fruitless cry for the 
 men to rally on the deck. As Cox leaped toward 
 him a second bullet from the mizzentop struck the 
 captain in the abdomen — Cox caught him as he fell. 
 Lawrence grasped his hand. 
 
 " Don't give up the ship ! " he cried weakly. 
 " Don't give up the ship ! " He placed one arm 
 about the boy's shoulder. He was so young ; he 
 loved his leader so much. He was faint from loss 
 of blood. It was his first action. Never before 
 had he seen dying men, or listened to the groans 
 and shrieks of the wounded. Who would expect 
 him to break away from that last fond grasp that 
 had not relaxed ? He did not know that he was 
 now commander ! Almost carrying his wounded 
 leader, he staggered down the ladder to where the 
 surgeon and his mates were busy at their direful 
 work. He did not see, just as he left the deck, the 
 
I04 The Scapegoat 
 
 English boarders headed by their own Captain, the 
 brave and gallant Broke, spring over the railing. 
 He did not know that he and the wounded Ludlow 
 were the only officers now left to handle ship. . . . 
 As the surgeon hastened to Lawrence's side. Cox 
 knelt down upon one knee. He could not control 
 the tears of sorrow and bitterness. The whole scene 
 of the previous night flashed through his mind. 
 Lawrence, his beloved, eager for glory, now shattered 
 with the hand of death upon him. The Captain 
 released the boy's hand. 
 
 " You are a brave lad, William," he said. " But stay 
 here no longer, though I would have you with me." 
 
 There was more rushing and shouting from the 
 decks above. Cox hastened up as fast as his weak- 
 ened limbs would carry him. It was hand to hand 
 now ; cutlasses plying, men stabbing on the decks, 
 growling and grovelling in their blood like fighting 
 dogs. There was a party making an onslaught 
 toward the bows. Cox drew his sword and joined 
 them. The first thing he knew, they were slashing 
 at him with their heavy blades. They were Eng- 
 lishmen ! He did not know his own crew by sight. 
 The firing had stopped ; the summer breeze was 
 blowing the smoke away. But what a sight and 
 what a sound ! The battered, reddened hulls, and fl 
 the groans that rose in chorus ! Of the further 
 details there is little to relate. Poor Ludlow was 
 
c/: 
 
The Scapegoat 105 
 
 killed at last by a cutlass in the hands of a British 
 sailor ; for after the flag had been hauled down, a 
 second action had been started by a hot-headed boy 
 firing at a British sentry placed at the gangway. 
 The English, by mistake, had hoisted the captured 
 flag uppermost, but it was soon discovered and 
 hauled down again — the fight was over. The 
 Chesapeake has been reckoned one of England's 
 dearest prizes. 
 
 The sorrowful news of her defeat was carried 
 quickly into Boston. The wise ones wagged their 
 heads again. At the house of the Commandant of 
 the navy yard at Charlestown, Bainbridge paced the 
 room alone, deep lines of grief marking his rugged 
 face, and on the floor above, a young girl lay insen- 
 sible, for the word as first brought was that with the 
 other oflicers James Cox had had his death. Cap- 
 tain Broke, the Englishman, had fought a gallant, 
 manly fight, all honor to him ! He was badly 
 wounded, and, like poor Lawrence, it was thought 
 that he would die. The latter, when he had heard 
 the firing cease, had said to the surgeon : — 
 
 " Run to the deck. Tell them not to strike the 
 colors ! While I live they shall wave ! " Brave 
 Lawrence ! They were the last words he ever 
 spoke. Although he lingered four long suff^ering 
 days, not a sound passed his lips. Broke, on the 
 contrary, was raving in a delirium, and these were 
 
io6 The Scapegoat 
 
 the words he kept repeating — words he must have 
 spoken before the action had begun : — 
 
 " See the brave fellow ! How grandly he brings 
 his ship along ! How gallantly he comes to action ! " 
 
 Ah, how Halifax rejoiced when the Shannon 
 sailed in there with a Yankee frigate under her lee. 
 How the guns boomed, and how the city went mad 
 with joy ! And how England rejoiced, and the 
 " Thunderer " thundered and the king clapped his 
 hands ! And how much they made of it ! How 
 proudly they preserved every relic of the captured 
 ship ! How they cherished her figurehead and ex- 
 hibited her logbook ! And they builded her tim- 
 bers into an old mill, where they can show them to 
 you to-day, scarred with cannon shot. 
 
 Yes, and how America lamented ! Aye, and 
 grew angry in her distress and cried for vengeance ! 
 Many times during the trial which followed in the 
 investigation of the causes for the vessel's loss 
 and capture, must have young William Cox wished 
 that he were dead, that it had been he the British 
 cutlasses and musket-balls had hacked to pieces. 
 The navy had lost a ship in single combat, — the 
 press and the authorities did not like that, — some 
 one must suffer. What excuse was there that could 
 hold good ? said they — the great public which 
 clamored for a reason. And so in the flush of the 
 hot feeling he was sentenced by court martial ; sen- 
 
The Scapegoat 107 
 
 tenced and disgraced. The charge of cowardice was 
 disproved. From that he was exonerated — he 
 had been wounded. But why had he not cut down 
 the men as they left their guns ? (one man against 
 fifty, forsooth !) Why had he left the deck and 
 gone below ? Why had he stayed for one mo- 
 ment's time at the side of his dying friend and 
 leader ^ And so he was made the scapegoat, 
 although if he had been six men or ten, he could 
 not have prevented what had happened. What is 
 the use of"ifs"? The best ship had won. But 
 when the trial was over, two hearts were broken. 
 The young officer was execrated by those that did 
 not know, and yet who talk and write. Could he 
 dare just then to ask a woman's hand ^ 
 
 The navy pitied him, the scapegoat of the Chesa- 
 peake. How he petitioned to be given a chance to 
 win back his fair name, and how often it was denied 
 him ! The members of the court that sentenced 
 him wrote kindly letters almost without exception. 
 But even the brave Decatur did not dare to help 
 him — public opinion is more formidable to face 
 than an armed ship. And so William Cox, maybe in 
 the hope that an honorable death would visit him, 
 shouldered a musket and fought as a common sol- 
 dier in the ranks on land. 
 
 And when the war was over, he sought refuge in 
 the new country of the west, where perhaps they 
 
io8 The Scapegoat 
 
 would not know. And there he lived and died ; 
 died an old man, honored and respected by his 
 neighbors. But those that loved him marvelled at 
 one thing ; he never smiled. And even his grand- 
 children (for he married late in life) knew not that 
 he had once been a gay young lieutenant with a 
 shining epaulet on his left shoulder. They never 
 heard that he had started one fine June day to find 
 glory and fame ; and that death had come near to 
 him but passed him by, which he had more than 
 once regretted bitterly. 
 
 After he had been laid to rest letters and papers 
 were found showing that to the last he had been try- 
 ing to have his name placed back upon the navy 
 }ists. But if they were too angry to listen before in 
 their deep chagrin, they were too busy now ; they 
 had other things to think about. And people who 
 wrote history, aye and taught it in the schools, did 
 not search dispassionately for what had occurred to 
 view the facts. They took the feverish verdict of 
 the times and applied adjectives to his conduct that 
 were out of place ; some called it " pusillanimous '* 
 — "cowardly." We can look at things differently 
 now, and judge them for their worth. There is 
 proof enough to clear his name, so be it cleared if 
 these few words can help to do it. 
 
THE LOSS OF THE VIXEN 
 
THE LOSS OF THE VIXEN 
 
 ON the 22d of October, 1812, at nine a.m., 
 the United States brig Vixen crossed St. 
 Mary's bar outward bound for a cruise 
 to the southward. It was not expected that she 
 would be absent from home waters for more than a 
 month. Her commander was George W. Reed, 
 a good officer, although he had had little experience 
 in actual warfare. The hundred and ten men under 
 his immediate command had trust in his judgment 
 and were all animated with a hope of coming in 
 again with one of the enemy under their lee, or at 
 least they trusted that they should be fortunate 
 enough to make one or two rich captures and return 
 with prize money to their credit. As one of the 
 Vixen s crew wrote : " All hands were in high health 
 and spirits, and filled with the idea of soon return- 
 ing with some fruit of the consequence of the war." 
 Day after day the Vixen sailed on and saw one 
 sail after another ; but owing to her having been 
 well to the leeward in every case she had been unable 
 to bring any to close quarters. On the tenth morn- 
 ing after her departure a sail was descried, and this 
 
 I II 
 
112 The Loss of the Vixen 
 
 time it so happened that the little brig was well 
 to the windward. Setting every stitch of her can- 
 vas, she made after the stranger. Judging from all 
 reports, the Vixen s intentions must have been better 
 than her powers of putting them into practice ; for 
 if her legs had been faster, so to speak, the expecta- 
 tions of her crew might have been answered, and 
 this story (which is nothing but a record of events, 
 however) would never have had a chance to be 
 written. So it is safe to draw the conclusion that 
 she was not as fast as many of our little vessels were 
 at this period of our naval history. 
 
 While chasing the strange sail, another was per- 
 ceived to be bearing down from the northwest. This 
 put another face on the matter. The Vixen hauled 
 her wind and waited. As it was perceived the 
 second stranger was undoubtedly armed and was a 
 large brig. Reed called his men together as was the 
 custom and made the following little speech : — 
 
 " Now, my lads, there she is ; I expect every 
 man to stand to his guns. Don't fire a gun until 
 you are within pistol shot; take good aim and show 
 her fair play." 
 
 As the vessel came on without raising her flag, she 
 fired a broadside of round and grape, which, how- 
 ever, served no other purpose than to churn the water 
 into foam some distance ahead of the Vixen s bow. 
 The latter returned the compliment, and planted a 
 
I 
 
 The Loss of the Fixen iij 
 
 double-shotted eighteen-pound charge in her antago- 
 nist's hull, above the sternpost. Again the stranger 
 fired and missed, although at musket-shot distance. 
 
 Now, odd to relate, the unknown ran up signals, 
 which, not understanding. Captain Reed replied to 
 with an assortment of grape. At this the signals 
 came down and the Spanish colors went up in their 
 place. Bitter was the disappointment; she was to 
 be no costly prize, after all. Seeing there was some 
 difficulty on board of her, Captain Reed lowered a 
 boat, and ascertained that she was a Spanish brig of 
 fourteen guns from Havana, bound for Cadiz. 
 Finding out that she only had two or three men 
 slightly wounded. Captain Reed went on his way, 
 after regretting that the "mistake" had occurred. 
 However, in the log there was entered on this day 
 that " owing to the good chance for target practice 
 the morning had not been spent amiss." 
 
 For just one month everything seemed to run 
 away from the poor little Fixen. The men were 
 getting discouraged. They would see a convoy, 
 most probably made up of rich merchantmen, some- 
 where off to leeward, and then a fog would shut 
 down, and when it cleared away nothing would be 
 seen but an expanse of empty horizon. With noth- 
 ing done, and a sorry and disappointed crew, she 
 was within two days' sail of St. Mary's, in the state 
 of Maryland, when as luck would have it the man 
 
114 '^h^ Loss of the Vixen 
 
 at the masthead reported a sail on the starboard 
 beam. 
 
 Much better would it have been for the little 
 Vixen if the fog had closed down or a contrary wind 
 had sprung up, or had she gone about her business 
 and made for home as soon as possible. It was 
 just daylight in the morning. Steering-sails were 
 set on both sides as she was headed out again to 
 meet the stranger, who had evidently not observed 
 her presence. By six o'clock it was made out that 
 the unknown was a frigate and no less. This was 
 more than the Vixen had bargained for. With all 
 her canvas standing as it was, she tacked ship and 
 hauled up on the wind, which was extremely light. 
 But the frigate proved herself to be a good one at 
 going; she had set all of her light canvas that she 
 could, and it was a caution the way she came down 
 upon the little brig. 
 
 Although it is only a preliminary to the story, 
 which has another side than that of the amusing, 
 one cannot read an extract from the Vixen s log 
 without feeling inclined to smile. Therefore to 
 quote : " At ten, finding the chase gained on us, 
 increasingly, commenced starting water out of the 
 fore and main holds to lighten the brig. At eleven 
 dead calm ; out sweeps and continued rowing with- 
 out intermission until twelve. Slow work ; but 
 we had now gained some advantage over the chase. 
 
The Loss of the Vixen 115 
 
 Then a breeze springing up we quickly lost it. In 
 sweeps, and to lighten the brig still more, hove every 
 article, in and under the boats, overboard. Stationed 
 hands by the anchors to cut them away when ordered. 
 Half past twelve p.m., discharged all the shot from 
 the racks. At one, cut away both anchors. At 
 two P.M., the chase still gaining, hove two elegant 
 brass nine-pounders after the anchors. Chase still 
 gained. Broached all the water in the casks, hove 
 over all our broadside guns, and everything that 
 seemed to carry weight. Finding that in despite of 
 our exertions the Vixen would not sail an inch faster 
 than her old gait, we now had the melancholy satis- 
 faction of knowing our capture was a certainty. But 
 we were determined to use every exertion to avoid 
 it. Thus we commenced manoeuvring with the 
 sails, which kept the men on the jump and had only 
 the effect of putting off the capture for an hour or 
 two. At three p.m., all her guns were visible, at 
 half past, coming up, hand over hand, she gave us 
 a shot which fell short. A few minutes later an- 
 other was sent which went between our foremast and 
 mainmast. Answered by running up our colors and 
 firing a musket to windward. The chase having 
 English colors up, and as it would have been madness 
 to engage her, we fired another shot to leeward and 
 hauled our colors down. At four p.m., she ranged 
 alongside." 
 
1 1 6 The Loss of the Vixen 
 
 And noWj strange to say, all those on board the brig 
 were astonished to see that the frigate had the word 
 " Constellation " painted on her stern. The crew 
 of the Vixen looked at each other in astonishment. 
 Had there been another mistake ? But there was 
 something unmistakably English about the cut of 
 her jib, and the red coats of a party of marines who 
 were scrambling down into a boat which she had 
 lowered plainly showed her character. Besides this. 
 Captain Reed knew well that the Yankee Constellation 
 was aground in the mud-jflats of the James River, 
 where she stayed during the war. 
 
 The officer, who was soon on board, with his 
 seamen and marines, informed Captain Reed and 
 his lieutenants that the Vixen was a prize to His 
 Britannic Majesty's frigate Southampton, thirty-six 
 guns. Sir James Lucas Yeo, commander. At once 
 Captain Reed entered the English boat and went 
 on board the frigate. As he rode close under the 
 stern he saw that the word " Constellation " had 
 been painted on a wide strip of canvas, tacked neatly 
 over the name " Southampton.'* He did not ask 
 the reason for this ; it was easy to guess. If she 
 happened to put in to one of the small harbors 
 along the coast, it would conceal successfully her 
 identity. Probably Sir James did not know that 
 the real Constellation was fast in the mud-flat. 
 
 Sir James was a gentleman and a nobleman by 
 
The Loss of the Vixen 117 
 
 action as well as by birth, and his very first doing 
 proved it. He came forward to meet Captain Reed 
 and lifted his hat in a courtly salute ; Captain Reed 
 presented the hilt of his sword in token of sur- 
 render. 
 
 " No, no, sir," spoke up the Captain of the South- 
 ampton, " I cannot accept this from you ; and I 
 wish to commend you, sir, upon the skill you dis- 
 played in endeavoring to save your vessel. My 
 ship is a very fast one." 
 
 "And mine a very slow one," put in Captain 
 Reed. 
 
 "But I am sure you did everything that any one 
 could do to get speed out of her. 
 
 "We hove everything overboard but our top sides 
 and scantlings," returned Reed. 
 
 The officers standing about smiled, for the Vixen s 
 frantic endeavors to escape had been watched closely 
 through the glass. 
 
 The kindness shown to the brig's commander 
 was extended in every way to the other officers and 
 to the crew also. As the frigate was very crowded, 
 but seventy of the Vixen s men were transferred to 
 her. The other forty were kept as prisoners on 
 board their own vessel. Every man was allowed 
 to take his dunnage, and the prisoners on board the 
 Southampton were given the run of the forward and 
 main holds, although the hatchways were closely 
 
1 1 8 The Loss of the Vixen 
 
 guarded by armed sentinels. Excepting for the 
 confinement, which was absolutely necessary, of 
 course, and which was in direct accordance with the 
 rules of war, the prisoners suffered no inconvenience. 
 Twice a day in details of twenty they were per- 
 mitted to be on deck to enjoy the fresh air. The 
 Southampton s crew were already on short allowance, 
 owing to their having been at sea for some length of 
 time, and the dole allowed the Americans was 
 almost, if not quite, equal to that given the English- 
 men. The officers were treated with the greatest 
 of politeness and civility, and Captain Reed dined 
 daily with Sir James in the cabin. All hands voted 
 him a fine man and gentleman, and that he was a 
 naval officer was proved conclusively enough by his 
 actions subsequently when at the head of the British 
 operations on the Lakes. 
 
 Five days after the capture the weather was fine, 
 but a small sea was running. The Southampton^ 
 under easy sail, was leading, and crowding on all 
 she could carry ; the Vixen managed to keep within 
 signalling distance of her. In three or four days 
 every one expected to be anchored safe in Jamaica. 
 
 It was about half past eleven on a bright starry 
 night when the lookout forward suddenly gave the 
 cry, " Land ho ! " A line of breakers could be seen 
 about two miles to the westward, and above them 
 the shores of a little island, at its highest point but 
 
The Loss of the Vixen 119 
 
 twelve or fourteen feet above the water. Evidently 
 the sailing-master of the frigate was out of his 
 course. He probably had not allowed for the drift 
 of one of those strange Gulf currents which have 
 caused the destruction of many a fine ship. 
 
 The Southampton was put about in a hurry, and 
 as she was such a good sailer and was so quick in 
 manoeuvring, no danger was apprehended, and she 
 jogged along to the eastward to escape the proximity 
 of the shoals. The Vixen was following her and 
 taking in some of her sail as the wind commenced 
 to blow much fresher. At twelve o'clock the sky 
 had darkened, and it was difficult for one vessel to 
 distinguish the other, although in the early part of 
 the evening, by the aid of the moon and stars, every- 
 thing had been visible. The mid-watch was just 
 coming on, when, with a sudden shock, the Southamp- 
 ton struck on a sunken ledge of rocks ; but she slid 
 over the first, tearing the sheathing from her hull and 
 wedging herself firmly in at the stern. Immediately 
 a gun was fired to warn the Vixen, that was follow- 
 ing in the wake ; and also to be a signal of distress, 
 as the greatest consternation prevailed now on board 
 the frigate — that was leaking badly. But the usual 
 ill fortune of the Vixen pursued her. At first she 
 hove to and shortened sail, preparing to come to 
 the frigate's assistance. Just as she was about to 
 heave to the second time and lower a boat, she struck 
 
i?,o The Loss of the Vixen 
 
 with such a vicious force that her bows drove high 
 out of water, she was stove in completely, and all 
 the prisoners, who had been wondering what was 
 going on, now terrified and in great fear of immedi- 
 ate death, rushed up on deck to see a strange sight. 
 It was pitch dark ; the waves were breaking on every 
 hand, and off the port bow the big frigate could be 
 seen hard and fast, signalling in great distress. 
 
 Her position, in fact, was much worse than that 
 of the brig, for she was filling and settling rapidly. 
 Everything was being done that knowledge and 
 good seamanship could suggest or direct. The top- 
 gallant yards and masts were sent down, and top- 
 masts were struck ; and notwithstanding the sea was 
 very rough, two boats were lowered, and although one 
 was crushed against the vessel's side, the other set 
 out to search for a safe passage through the reef. 
 On board the Vixen the boats had been called away, 
 and the American and English crews were mingled, 
 but without confusion. A Yankee sat beside John 
 Bull on a thwart, and deeming that their own vessel 
 was in no immediate danger, but that the Southamp- 
 ton was about to sink, they started to act the part of 
 life-savers and rescue as many of the frigate's crew 
 as they could. There was no thought of their being 
 enemies, no observance of the diflFerences between 
 prisoners and captors ; all sought to act for the cause 
 of humanity and to save human life. But they had 
 
&■• 
 
 V/ 
 
The Loss of the Vixen 121 
 
 not proceeded far from the side of the brig when they 
 were called back in a hurry. The Vixen had slipped 
 from her firm position on the jagged rock and was 
 surely sinking. So instead of being a rescue party 
 to others they found they had all they could do to 
 save themselves. But every man was taken off and 
 brought on board of the Southampton, 
 
 Daylight was waited for most anxiously, and 
 when it came, a dreary prospect was before the ship- 
 wrecked ones. Not far away was a low island that 
 was pronounced at once to be the island of Concep- 
 tion. Nothing but the topgallant masts of the* 
 Vixen showed above the water, as she had sunk 
 during the night. The Southampton s pumps had 
 been kept going for six hours. But she was so 
 badly bilged, and the water was gaining so fast, that 
 her hours were numbered. With a rising sea there 
 was immediate danger of her going to pieces, and 
 in her crowded condition the consequent loss of life 
 would have been too terrible to think of. It was a 
 row of about ten miles from the reef on which the 
 ship lay to the distant low-lying, sandy shore. All 
 the boats were made ready, a raft was built and 
 floated alongside, and the boatswain, obeying orders 
 from the quarter-deck, began bawling : " Away 
 there, you Vixens, away ! " So the prisoners were 
 to go first ; but since the vessels had struck they 
 had not been treated as prisoners at all. They 
 
122 The Loss of the Vixen 
 
 had obeyed Sir James's orders as though they were 
 members of his own crew, and they had not been 
 shown the slightest evidences of bad blood or ill 
 feeling on the part of the ordinary seamen. Before 
 the day was over all the crew had been transferred 
 to the island, and a boatload of provisions had been 
 safely landed. Sir James and his officers spent the 
 first night on board ship ; but on the following 
 morning, as she showed all evidences of a speedy 
 breaking up, a tent was made for him on shore. 
 A strange life now followed. The great lack 
 ' felt upon the island was that of proper drinking- 
 water. Conches and shellfish and land-crabs there 
 were in plenty. The four hundred odd men who 
 now found themselves marooned on this island far 
 removed from the usual course of trade, and but 
 seldom visited, had to depend upon a small pond 
 for their drinking-supply. If this should be ex- 
 hausted, their position would be perilous in the 
 extreme. Two boats had been despatched to sum- 
 mon aid if possible. One to see if there were not 
 some cruiser at Cat Island, with orders to proceed 
 to Nassau, and the other to make for the island of 
 Exhuma. 
 
 A little settlement composed of tents and wig- 
 wams made from ship's wreckage soon grew up. 
 Friend and foe mingled together in hunting for 
 conches, or in sports to while away the time. 
 
The Loss of the Vixen 123 
 
 After a week a small vessel arrived from Cat 
 Island, for the message calling for help had been 
 received, bringing eighteen sheep and a quantity of 
 meal, and the skipper showed where there was hidden 
 a well which the mariners had failed to discover. An 
 empty hogshead was sunk, and a sign-post erected 
 on which was cut " The Southampton's Well, 
 November, 1812.'* For many years it stood there. 
 The sheep did not last long, and soon resort was 
 had again to the conches. On the eighth of Decem- 
 ber, three English vessels arrived, the Caledonia^ a 
 cutter, Rolla, privateer, and the government brig 
 Rhodian. Captain Sir James Yeo made a speech 
 to his crew and their " guests," which was the term 
 he used in referring to the Vixens, in which he 
 thanked the latter for their assistance, their cheer- 
 fulness and good behavior, and he stated that he 
 would do everything in his power to help get them 
 exchanged, or provide them with a cartel to take 
 them to their own country on their arrival at 
 Jamaica, whither they were bound. Then, form- 
 ing into a ragged company, arm in arm, Yankee 
 sailors and British tars marched out from their 
 little settlement, a fifer at their heads playing The 
 Girl I Left Behind Me. Leaving their little island 
 to the mercies of the half-breed wreckers whose 
 small craft swarmed about, they sailed away. The 
 rescued "guests" were prisoners agam. 
 
IN THE HARBOR OF FAYAL 
 
IN THE HARBOR OF FAYAL 
 
 ON the lake front at Chicago during the 
 World's Fair, close by the entrance to 
 the long walk that led out to the mar- 
 vellously constructed imitation battle-ship, the 
 Illinois, rested an old iron muzzle-loader. It was 
 a clumsy-looking piece of ordnance compared to 
 the shining, complicated bits of machinery that 
 compose the batteries of a modern war-ship. It 
 looked very out of date and harmless, and people 
 who did not know its history passed it by with 
 hardly a second glance. But yet this old gun had 
 taken more white men's lives in battle than all the 
 great modern breech-loaders on the fleets of Europe 
 combined to-day. It was but nine or ten feet long 
 and threw a solid ball twenty-four pounds in weight. 
 A small inscription on a metal plate told the in- 
 quisitive that the gun was the " Long Tom," from 
 the privateer General Armstrong, that had been 
 sunk in the harbor of Fayal, in September of the 
 year 1814; that it had subsequently been raised and 
 presented by the Portuguese government to the 
 United States. There were some who knew the 
 
 127 
 
128 In the Harbor of Fayal 
 
 story, for it had been told many times, and long 
 years ago the country rang with it. Every one then 
 knew the main facts of the incident, and because of 
 a long controversy in the courts owing to claims 
 that arose from the action for indemnity against the 
 Portuguese government, the matter was kept alive 
 up to a very recent date. But an unfamiliar story 
 in connection with a well-known fact may not be 
 amiss, and this is a tale of the harbor of Fayal that 
 perhaps few have heard before. 
 
 But to get to the telling of it, it is necessary to 
 recount a good deal of what is recorded history. 
 
 The General Armstrong was a privateer brig out- 
 fitted at New York. She was owned in part by a 
 New York merchant, a Mr. Havens, and in part 
 by her commander, Samuel C. Reid, and a better 
 sailor never stood in sea-boots. She was not a big 
 ship ; but her armament had been skilfully chosen. 
 Her crew of picked men had been drilled man- 
 of-war fashion. She mounted eight long nine- 
 pounders, four on a side, and amidships she carried 
 the big twenty-four-pounder before referred to. 
 Her First Lieutenant was a Mr. Alexander O. Will- 
 iams, a very young man, but a thorough and prac- 
 tical seaman ; her Second was named Worth ; her 
 Third Lieutenant's name was Johnson ; her crew, 
 all Americans, numbered ninety souls all told. 
 Among them was an active, handsome fellow, named 
 
In the Harbor of Fayal 129 
 
 William Copeland. He was down on the priva- 
 teer's books as able seaman ; but before the General 
 Armstrong had been two weeks at sea, Copeland 
 was promoted for meritorious conduct in an action 
 with a British armed schooner, that was sent home as 
 a prize, to be quarter gunner. It was Reid and him- 
 self that squinted along the black barrel of the old 
 Long Tom, when she fought in the harbor of Fayal. 
 
 It was the 26th day of September that the Gen- 
 eral Armstrong cast anchor there. The weather had 
 been very fine, and Captain Reid, very proud of 
 his vessel, had done everything to make her look 
 smart and tidy. Her rigging was all tuned up to 
 concert pitch ; her decks were as white as sand 
 and holystone could make them, and the men, con- 
 trary to the habit of most privateers, were dressed in 
 suits of white duck and blue. The American Con- 
 sul, John D. Dabney, felt a thrill of pride as he saw 
 the man-of-war fashion with which the General Arm- 
 strong came to anchor. As the long white gig came 
 rolling up to the pier, and the men boated their oars, 
 Mr. Dabney recognized that the officer sitting in 
 the stern sheets was an old friend of his. 
 
 " Ah, Captain Reid," he exclaimed. " Glad to see 
 you. My compliments to you on the appearance 
 of your vessel. I thought at first that she must be 
 one of the regular navy ; in fact, I took her for the 
 Enterprise.^' 
 
ijo In the Harbor of Fayal 
 
 " Well, I flatter myself that she is quite as ship- 
 shape," returned Captain Reid. "And I have to 
 work my crew pretty hard to keep from showing 
 how well satisfied I am with them. I tell you, 
 Dabney, it isn't every man that has had such a fine 
 lot of fellows under him. As to my success so far, 
 it has been fair enough; but I'd really like to meas- 
 ure distances and exchange a few shots with some 
 of His Majesty's Httle fellows." 
 
 " You have come to a good place to look for 
 them," Dabney returned. " It is seldom that a 
 week passes without having one or more of them 
 drop anchor in the roads." 
 
 Chatting together in this friendly fashion, the two 
 gentlemen went up into the town. It was late in the 
 evening before Reid came to the water-front to 
 signal for his boat. Dabney was still with him. 
 They walked down to the end of the pier, and Reid 
 suddenly pointed : — 
 
 " By Jupiter ! " he exclaimed, " here we come," 
 and following his finger Dabney saw three big ves- 
 sels lazily moving along before the slight wind, 
 toward the harbor entrance. Their earlier approach 
 had been hidden by the headlands. 
 
 The harbor of Fayal is surrounded by hills, oh 
 the slopes of which the town is built, and the bay 
 extends in a semicircle with two wide-reaching arms. 
 The water runs deep into the shore. The sun was 
 
In the Harbor of Fayal 131 
 
 setting in the calm evening sky, and there was scarce 
 enough movement on the surface of the bay to 
 catch the red reflections. Dabney turned to Cap- 
 tain Reid after the first long look. 
 
 " English, or else I'm much mistaken," he said 
 quietly. 
 
 " Not the least doubt of it in my mind," Reid 
 returned, " and if there was more of a wind, by 
 Jove, I'd try to get out of this. . . . Do you 
 think it is safe to stay ? " 
 
 " It is a neutral port," Dabney returned, " and 
 Portugal and England have been such friends, that 
 I do not think John Bull would take advantage of 
 his position here. In my opinion they will respect 
 the neutrality." 
 
 "Well, they won't catch me napping," Reid re- 
 turned, as he stepped into the gig ; and after request- 
 ing the Consul's presence at dinner on the following 
 evening, he gave the order to shove off, and pulled 
 away for his vessel. 
 
 Mr. WilHams, the First Lieutenant, met him at 
 the gangway. "You have observed our friends 
 yonder ? " he asked, pitching his thumb over his 
 shoulder. " I wish we were out of here." 
 
 " So do I," Reid returned, " but we must make 
 the best of it." 
 
 It was a beautiful sight to see the great square- 
 rigged ships come to anchor. Forward and aft all 
 
132 In the Harbor of Fayal 
 
 hands were on deck watching the English men-of-war 
 perform the manoeuvre. 
 
 "Well done ! " exclaimed William Copeland. the 
 quarter gunner, turning to a group of his messmates. 
 " It takes an Englishman or a Yankee to make a 
 vessel behave as if she were alive. By Davy's 
 locker!" he exclaimed suddenly, "I know that 
 nearest ship ; it's the Plantagenet, I'll bet my prize 
 money. Good cause have I to remember her; she 
 picked me up in the North Sea and I served three 
 years in her confounded carcass. Three wicked, 
 sweating years, my lads." 
 
 " Where did you leave her. Bill ? " asked one of 
 the seamen standing near him. 
 
 " At Cape Town, during the war against the 
 Dutch. I'll spin the yarn to you some day. My 
 brother and I were took at the same time. The 
 last I seed of him was when we lowered ourselves 
 out of the sick bay into the water to swim a good 
 three miles to the whaler — that was three years ago." 
 
 "Do you reckon he was drownded. Bill? " 
 
 " Reckon so. Leastways I haven't heard from 
 him, poor lad ! " 
 
 Further talk was interrupted by an order from 
 the quarter-deck calling away the first cutter to 
 carry a stream anchor in towards shore in order to 
 warp the brig close under the walls of the " castle " 
 a little battery of four or five guns that commanded 
 
In the Harbor of Fayal 133 
 
 the inner harbor. Captain Reid's suspicions had 
 been awakened by seeing a boat put off from the 
 shore, and noticing that one of the frigates was get- 
 ting up her anchor preparatory to drawing in 
 nearer. In less than half an hour he was moored 
 stem and stern so close under the walls of the little 
 fort that he could have hurled a marline-spike 
 against the walls from his own quarter-deck. As 
 it grew darker he could see from the flashing of lights 
 that the English vessels were holding communi- 
 cation with one another, and occasionally across 
 the water would come the sound of creaking blocks 
 or the lilt of a pipe. He knew well enough that 
 such goings on were not without some object, and 
 calling all of his officers aft they held a short consul- 
 tation. It was exactly eight o'clock in the evening. 
 From shore there came a sound of fiddles and sing- 
 ing. Although Captain Reid had promised the 
 men liberty that evening, owing to the position of 
 affairs the order had been rescinded, but neverthe- 
 less there was some grumbling in the forecastle ; for 
 if a sailor doesn't grumble when he gets a chance, he 
 is not a sailor. 
 
 " I'll be shot if I can see why the old man won't 
 let us ashore," growled a sturdy young topman. 
 " D'ye hear them fiddles. Jack ? Can't you see the 
 senoritas adancin' ? My heels itch for the touch 
 of a springy floor and my arm has a crook to it 
 
134 I^ the Harbor of Fayal 
 
 that would just fit a neat young waist. Do you 
 remember — " 
 
 " Stow your jaw, Dummer," broke in a heavy 
 voice half angrily. " And you too, Merrick, clap a 
 stopper on it," turning to another of the malcon- 
 tents. " Hush now, listen all hands. . . . Oars ! 
 can't ye hear 'em ? And muffled too, by the 
 Piper ! Pass the word below ; all hands ! " With 
 that William Copeland ran aft to the quarter-deck. 
 Captain Reid met him at the mast. 
 
 "Their boats are coming, sir," Copeland whis- 
 pered excitedly; "five or six of 'em, I should judge." 
 
 " Are the broadside guns ready ? " 
 
 " Aye, aye, sir, and double-shotted ; two of them 
 with grape and canister." 
 
 " How's the Long Tom ? " 
 
 " Ready to speak for himself, sir," Copeland 
 replied with a touch of pride, for the big gun was 
 his especial pet. 
 
 The three lieutenants had now grouped close 
 together. " See that the magazine is opened, Mr. 
 Worth, and Mr. Williams call the men to their 
 stations quietly. They will try to come in on the 
 port hand most probably. Gentlemen, to your 
 stations. No firing until you get the word from the 
 quarter-deck, and stop all talking on the ship." 
 
 Even the sentry, patrolling his beat on the castle 
 walls, did not hear or notice anything extraordinary 
 
In the Harbor of Fayal 135 
 
 on board the privateer, so silently were the orders 
 followed out. The moon was struggling to pierce 
 through the thin, filmy clouds that obscured her 
 light. It was one of those nights when objects 
 appear suddenly out of the invisible and take shape 
 with distinctness close to hand. But every one could 
 hear the sounds now. 
 
 " Thrum, thrum, thrum," the swing of oars ; 
 despite that the rhythm was muffled and subdued. 
 
 Reid was leaning over the rail with a night glass 
 aimed in the direction of the frigate. A figure 
 hurried to his side. It was Lieutenant Williams. 
 "We can see them from for'ard, sir," he said 
 breathlessly. " Everything is ready, and there's 
 surely some mischief afoot." 
 
 " Yes, I can see them now ; four of them, chock 
 a block with men," Reid returned, closing the glass 
 with a snap. " Now stand by, all hands, for orders." 
 Then raising his voice, he shot the following ques- 
 tion out into the semi-darkness : " On board the 
 boats, there ! There is no landing here. Keep 
 away from our side." 
 
 The rowing ceased ; but it was only an instant 
 and then it began again. 
 
 " I warn you to come no nearer ! " shouted Reid. 
 " You do so at your peril." 
 
 Four dark shapes were now visible without the 
 aid of any glass. The plash of the oars could be 
 
136 In the Harbor of Fayal 
 
 heard as they caught the water. Reid just noticed 
 the figure of William Copeland bending over the 
 breech of the Long Tom, whose muzzle extended 
 across the bulwarks. 
 
 " Keep off or I shall fire ! " he warned for the third 
 time. There came an answer to this clear enough 
 to be heard by every man standing at the guns. 
 
 " Give way, lads, together." 
 
 "Fire!" roared Reid, in a voice that must have 
 been heard distinctly along the shore. The reply 
 was a scarlet burst of flame and a crash that sent the 
 echoes up the hills. It stopped the fiddles in the 
 dance-house ; it set the drums and bugles rolling 
 and tooting in the fortress, and the American 
 Consul, sitting over his coffee on the public square, 
 jumped to his feet, and ran, followed by a clamoring 
 crowd, to the pier-head. 
 
 From the direction of the boats came a confusion 
 of orders following the broadside. Groans and 
 shrieks for help arose from the darkness. Some 
 spurts of flame came quickly and several musket- 
 balls whistled over the Armstrong s deck. Then the 
 loud report of a heavy boat gun, and a groan and 
 cry followed immediately from the brig's forecastle. 
 
 All was silent now except for the sound of plash- 
 ing in the water and some groans and muffled cries. 
 Reid was about to hail when he saw three men hur- 
 rying aft with a heavy burden in their arms. 
 
In the Harbor of Fayal 137 
 
 "It's Mr. Williams, sir; he's shot in the head, 
 and Dummer, of the forward division, sir, is killed," 
 one of them said gruffly. Poor Dummer ! He 
 would dance no more with the senoritas — there 
 were to be no more liberty parties for him. 
 
 Reid's intention of lowering away a boat faded 
 from his mind. There would be more of the same 
 sort of work before long ; that he knew well. One 
 of the boats had been sunk, for the wreck came 
 drifting in close to the brig's side. The other 
 three could be heard making off to the ships, their 
 rowing growing fainter every minute. Lieutenants 
 Worth and Johnson came aft to report. 
 
 " We are in for it, gentlemen," said Reid ; " but 
 they won't cut this vessel out without more discus- 
 sion on the subject. The idea of such treachery in 
 a friendly harbor! They received their just deserts." 
 His anger got the better of him for an instant, and 
 he could say no more. "Poor Williams!" he mur- 
 mured at last. " Is he badly hurt ? " 
 
 " He is mortally wounded, sir, I am afraid," Mr. 
 Johnson returned. 
 
 " A good friend and a fine officer gone," put in 
 Lieutenant Worth. "So much for this night's 
 work." 
 
 " Do not fear ; there'll be more of it, and we'll 
 have our hands full," Reid continued. " Mr. John- 
 son, you will see that the boarding-nettings are 
 
138 In the Harbor of Fayal 
 
 spread, and load the midship gun with lagrange and 
 a star shot. Have pikes and cutlasses ready." 
 
 " Are you going ashore, sir, to see the commander 
 of the fort ? He surely should protect us ? " asked 
 Mr. Worth. 
 
 " We need count no longer on him," was Reid's 
 rejoinder. " We will have to do our own protect- 
 ing. See that every musket and pistol is loaded 
 and laid handy and, stay," he added, " cut away the 
 bulwarks just abaft the gangway and bring two of 
 those starboard guns across the deck. We will 
 need them all, to my way of thinking." 
 
 The crowds gathered on the shore could hear the 
 sounds of preparation. From the English squad- 
 ron also came a babble of orders and movement. 
 The lights were doubled in number. Every port 
 shone brightly. The moon had now risen until 
 objects could be seen quite plainly. 
 
 " They are preparing for an attack in force," Reid 
 said, handing the glass to Mr. Johnson, who had 
 already seen that the boarding-nettings had been 
 spread above the railing. The men forward were 
 busy setting some spare spars to act as booms to 
 keep the boats from gaining the vessel's bows. 
 Time passed swiftly. At twelve o'clock the oars 
 began again. But they were not muffled now ! 
 " Click, clock," they came onward with a rush. 
 Voices could be heard urging the rowers to more 
 
In the Harbor of Fayal 139 
 
 exertion, as if they were racing crews out for a prac- 
 tice spin. Reid was levelling the glass. 
 
 " Ten, twelve, thirteen, fourteen — fourteen boats 
 loaded to the guards," he said. " God's love, there 
 must be four hundred men: they mean to take 
 us if they can." He looked down at his own little 
 deck. He had less than ninety now ; but they 
 were ninety stout, good fellows who would not flinch. 
 In the rays of the battle lanterns and the pale light 
 of the moon, Captain Reid saw that they were ready 
 to fight their last fight maybe. 
 
 It was no time to make a speech ; but the men 
 could hear every word he said without gathering 
 nearer. " Lads," he said, " reserve your fire until 
 you get the word from me. Don't waste a single 
 shot, and remember this: aim low. . . . Cope- 
 land ! " 
 
 "Aye, aye, sir ! " 
 
 " Cover that leading boat." 
 
 " Aye, aye, sir ! " 
 
 A big pinnace or barge, holding perhaps eighty 
 men, was heading the flotilla by almost a hundred 
 feet. The grinding of a handspike on the deck 
 broke the silence, as the Long Tom was slewed about 
 to bear upon her. 
 
 " Handsomely now, men," cajoled Copeland. 
 "Handsomely; that's well." 
 
 The great boat was rowing in directly on that gun 
 
140 In the Harbor of Fayal 
 
 as if towed by a line. She was heading on to death 
 and destruction ! 
 
 Consul Dabney, standing with the anxious crowd 
 on the shore, held his breath. 
 
 Was Reid going to submit to be taken without 
 striking another blow ? Not much. With a long 
 flare of flame that leaped from the Armstrong s side, 
 arose a great shout from the spectators. 
 
 The bow of the pinnace was stove in, and she 
 pitched forward into the water like an angry bull 
 brought to his knees by a rifle shot. Men absolutely 
 boiled out of her. The moonlit water was dotted 
 with black objects ; some threshing with their arms, 
 others silent and motionless. There came a rattling 
 reply of small-arms from the boats, and the long 
 nines answered them. The action was on in earnest. 
 No one can gainsay the courage that was displayed 
 by the attacking force. They were Englishmen ; 
 it is not necessary to say more. The firing became 
 incessant. The men on the Armstrong had scarce 
 time to reload their guns. They would snatch up 
 a pistol here and a musket there and fire out at the 
 water that was crisscrossed with the red flashes of 
 the answering shots. More than once a boat had 
 reached the side. On two occasions men had 
 sprung to the bulwarks, and clung to the boarding- 
 nettings until shot away. Every now and then the 
 Long Tom would let go a half-bucketful of grape and 
 
In the Harbor of Fayal 141 
 
 scrap iron, hurling death into the boats. Every one 
 of the privateer's crew seemed gifted with four 
 arms. From one point of attack to another they 
 chased about the deck. It seemed as if she num- 
 bered three times her complement. Bill Copeland 
 was fighting like a demon. Twice had he run along 
 the top of the bulwarks, exposed to every aim. 
 Suddenly he saw that one of the boats had worked 
 around to the starboad side. Giving the alarm, and 
 followed by a half-score of the after-guard, he ran 
 across to meet this unexpected danger. One of the 
 men who followed him caught up a twenty-four- 
 pound solid shot in his arms as he ran. Another 
 followed his example. Both shot crashed through 
 the bottom of the boat, and a volley was poured 
 down into them. But three or four of the men 
 had already reached the chains. 
 
 Copeland sprang to the bulwarks with his cutlass 
 in his hand. There was a figure crawling up below 
 him. Leaning forward, he made a quick stroke that 
 would have severed the man's throat had he not 
 leaned back suddenly and avoided it. Again he 
 drew back his sharpened cutlass for the death blow, 
 and then he saw that the fellow was unarmed. 
 Something stayed his hand ; he bent still further 
 forward, and just as the Englishman was about to 
 fall back into the water, he grasped him by the 
 wrist. 
 
142 In the Harbor of Fayal 
 
 " My God, Jed ! *' he cried, and exerting all his 
 strength he dragged his prisoner over the rail on to 
 the deck. Those who had time to witness it, saw 
 a curious sight. There was Bill Copeland holding 
 fast to another man, their arms on each other's 
 shoulders. 
 
 "'Jed, don't ye know me ? " Bill was crying ; 
 " but. Lord love ye lad, you 're wounded." A shud- 
 der went through him as he realized how close he 
 had been to sending home that fatal thrust. The 
 man with a pigtail down his back leaned forward 
 weakly. 
 
 " Tm hurted bad. Bill," he said. " But go on 
 and fight; leave me alone; egad, you've whipped 
 'em." Sure enough, the firing had now slackened. 
 Four or five of the boats had retreated beyond gun 
 shot. They were all that could do so unaided. 
 
 " Cease firing ! " ordered Captain Reid, hastening 
 about the deck. " Cease firing here ! They have 
 given up. Where is Mr. Johnson ? " he roared, 
 pushing his way into a group of men who were 
 about to reload one of the nine-pounders. He had 
 to cuff his way amongst them to make them desist. 
 " Where is Mr. Johnson ? " he repeated. 
 
 " He's wounded, sir." 
 
 " And Mr. Worth is wounded too, sir," put in 
 another man. " I helped him below myself." 
 
 As suddenly as the action had begun it had 
 
In the Harbor of Fayal 143 
 
 ended. By the light of a lantern Captain Reid 
 glanced at his watch. It was forty minutes since the 
 first gun . had been fired. He looked about his 
 decks. Although they were littered with loose 
 running-gear, handspikes, cutlasses, and muskets, at 
 the sight his heart gave a great bound of joy. 
 There were no mangled figures or pools of slippery 
 blood. It seemed hardly possible. 
 
 But from the wreckage in the water came groans 
 and cries. He looked over the side. There lay, 
 rocking, two broken boats filled with huddled fig- 
 ures, some moving weakly. 
 
 " Here ! " he shouted to some of the men. 
 " Bear a hand ; save all we can." 
 
 It was a sudden transition, this, from taking life 
 to saving it ; but the men turned to with a will. 
 In one of the boats twelve dead bodies were found, 
 and but seventeen of her crew had escaped with 
 their lives, and they were all badly wounded. Of 
 the four hundred men who had commenced that 
 bold attack, only one-half returned to the ships un- 
 hurt. Reid hurried down into the cockpit. It 
 seemed past believing. But two of bis men, including 
 the brave Williams, had been killed, and but seven 
 wounded! This is history. 
 
 But a sight he saw attracted the Captain's atten- 
 tion. It was Bill Copeland sitting on the deck, with 
 his arms about a pale figure whose head lay in Cope- 
 
144 I^ ^he Harbor of Fayal 
 
 land's lap. The resemblance between the men was 
 striking. 
 
 "What have we here?" asked Captain Reid. 
 
 " My brother, sir," Copeland returned. 
 
 " Your brother ! " 
 
 " Aye, sir ; from the Plantaganet. He was the 
 only one who got on board of us ! " 
 
 The man spoke with an accent of pride, and the 
 wounded one opened his eyes. 
 
 " Bill, here, he hauled me on board," he said. 
 
 When the surgeon found time to attend to Cope- 
 land's wounds, he pronounced them not to be of a 
 dangerous character, and the man was soon made 
 comfortable. 
 
 All night long, the Armstrong s people slept be- 
 side their guns, but there was no evidence of any 
 further intention to attack on the part of the British. 
 The Carnation^ which was the nearest of the vessels 
 to the privateer, had her boats out at daybreak. 
 All day long they kept carrying their dead on shore. 
 From the Rota there were seventy funerals ! But 
 the Armstrong was not left unmolested. At eight 
 o'clock the Carnation began firing at close range. 
 For a few minutes. Captain Reid replied with some 
 effect. But resistance was useless, and at nine he 
 ordered all hands into the boats, and made for the 
 shore, every one arriving there in safety. He had 
 bored a large hole in the Armstrong s bottom, but 
 
In the Harbor of Fayal 145 
 
 before she sank, two boats from the Carnation rowed 
 out to her, and the English set her on fire. . . . 
 The inhabitants of the town, all of whose sym- 
 pathies were with the Americans, did everything in 
 their power to assist the wounded, and many were 
 the indignant protests against the action of Captain 
 Lloyd, the English senior officer. 
 
 It now came to light that Mr. Dabney had com- 
 plained to the commander of the Castle as soon as 
 the firing had begun the previous night, and that 
 the Portuguese commander had written a letter to 
 Lloyd, but the latter's reply had been only a menac- 
 ing insult. So angry were the English at the fear- 
 ful drubbing they had received, that they insisted 
 upon the government officials delivering the crew 
 of the Armstrong up to them, upon the ground that 
 there were deserters among them. There existed, 
 between Portugal and England, a treaty that de- 
 manded the return of prisoners accused of high 
 treason, and Captain Lloyd, by claiming that de- 
 serters were guilty of this crime, had a technical 
 right for examination of the American refugees. 
 . . . But hearing the danger they were in. Captain 
 Reid and his men, after securing some arms, barri- 
 caded themselves in a small stone church, back in 
 the country, where they dared the Englishmen to 
 come and take them. It was a difficult position for 
 them to maintain. If Captain Lloyd's statement 
 
146 In the Harbor of Fayal 
 
 was correct, then the Portuguese government was 
 bound to hand them over as deserters, or place 
 themselves in a bad position with England. After 
 a long deliberation, Reid consented to have his men 
 submit to an examination. They were all arrested, 
 and brought to town, and not a single deserter was 
 found among them ! 
 
 But what of Copeland, the wounded prisoner ? 
 He lay hidden in one of the houses of a friendly 
 Portuguese, and his name was probably reported on 
 the Plantagenet' s books as "missing." On the 28th 
 of the month, two British sloops of war, the Thais 
 and Clypso, came into port, and were immediately 
 sent back to England with the British wounded. 
 The two Copeland brothers returned to the United 
 States, with the rest of the Armstrong s crew, and 
 both served in the navy for the rest of the war. 
 
 The owners of the Armstrong attempted for many 
 years to obtain redress for the loss of their ship. 
 Again and again were they put off and denied. But 
 in this year, 1897, some money was received, and 
 strange to say, was paid to the widow of the owner, 
 Mr. Havens. She died but a short time ago, at the 
 age of ninety-eight, at Stamford, Connecticut. 
 
THE ESCAPE OF SYMINGTON 
 
THE ESCAPE OF SYMINGTON 
 
 CAPTAIN MYRON SYMINGTON 
 was a long-legged Yankee. There was no 
 mistaking him for anything else but an 
 out-and-out downeaster. As to the length of his 
 underpinning, that was apparent also. When seated, 
 he did not appear above the average height ; but 
 when erect he stood head and shoulders above the 
 crowd, so of course it was in his legs. Symington 
 spoke English with a lazy drawl, and conversation 
 ebbed from him much after the manner that smoke 
 issues from a tall chimney on a perfectly still day — 
 it rolled forth in slow volumes. But Symington's 
 French was very different ; he could be clearly 
 understood, for he spoke it well ; but he discharged 
 every word like a pistol shot, and he paused between 
 each sentence as if he had to load and prime, and 
 cast loose for the next. 
 
 Since the beginning of the war Symington had 
 not been to America. But he had sent many mes- 
 sages thither ; and although his headquarters were at 
 Brest when ashore, and the English Channel and 
 the Bay of Biscay when afloat, his name had become 
 
 149 
 
150 The Escape of Symington 
 
 well known in the United States, and he had done 
 a thriving international business on his own account 
 — which may require some explaining. 
 
 The little privateer Rattler (of which he was owner 
 and commander) had sent home no less than twenty 
 vessels that had been snapped up when almost under 
 the guns of England's coastwise fortresses. When- 
 ever he needed provisioning or recruiting, Syming- 
 ton would make for one of the French ports, run the 
 blockade that the English had established the whole 
 length of the coast, drop his anchor in the harbor, 
 and then get anything he chose for the mere asking 
 for it; for Symington's name was as good and in fact 
 better than the promise of some governments. Years 
 before the outbreak of the war Symington had com- 
 manded the fastest and luckiest Yankee craft engaged 
 in the European trade that sailed from Baltimore or 
 Boston. He was a good seaman, it was reputed 
 that he was immensely wealthy, and many believed 
 also that he possessed some charm or fetich that 
 insured success. Certainly it had crowned his 
 endeavors to divert the direction of Great Britain's 
 proper freight ships. 
 
 Symington was sitting at a table in one of the 
 cafes off the Rue Bonaparte in the city of Brest, and 
 he had just finished a very heavy noonday meal. 
 Suddenly glancing up, he saw a man go past the 
 door leading from the hallway into the garden. 
 
The Escape of Symington 151 
 
 Lengthening himself to his full height by a succes- 
 sion of jerks, in a couple of strides he had caught 
 the man by the elbow and almost pulled him back 
 into the room. 
 
 " Just back, ain't ye, Captain Edgar ? " he drawled. 
 
 " Post haste," the man replied, " from Paris." 
 
 " Any news ? " 
 
 "Well, I should say there was. By Hickey, 
 Captain, Napoleon's jig is up ! Already the people 
 are showing the white cockade, and those who yet 
 fly the tricolor have the other in their pocket." 
 
 " So ! " exclaimed Symington, prolonging the 
 syllable until it sounded like a yawn ; " then our 
 friends the English will have a finger in the pie in 
 short order. It is a shame that they will have to 
 break up such a harmless and profitable business, 
 this Channel cruising." 
 
 It was April of the year 18 14. Europe had 
 completed the humiliation of the little great man 
 who had come nigh to conquering her, unaided. 
 And as soon as the last of his ramparts were down, 
 any one with common sense could see what would 
 be the outcome of it all. The exiled King, Louis 
 the Eighteenth, who had been hiding in London, 
 v/ould be placed upon the throne ! To Great Brit- 
 ain more than to any other power he would owe 
 his translation from debt, poverty, and seclusion 
 to position, affluence, and a crown. From being 
 
152 The Escape of Symington 
 
 England's enemy, France would become her ally. 
 Could it be expected of her to continue to harbor in 
 her ports those ocean pests, the Yankee privateers, 
 who had compelled England to give the services of 
 two-thirds of her fighting force to convoying and 
 guarding her merchant fleets ? 
 
 Symington and his friend, the short man, seated 
 themselves at a table and continued the conversation. 
 
 " Yd put to sea to-morrow if I had enough of a 
 crew to work the old Siren,'' said the little Captain. 
 " I had hard enough work getting into port after 
 manning all my prizes. But if I could get four 
 more good hands, I'd have enough." 
 
 " There are just fourteen men-o'-war and three 
 battle-ships off the harbor mouth, and what chance 
 would ye have of gettin' through this open 
 weather ? " grumbled Symington. " We'll have to 
 wait until we get a good blow out of the southeast ; 
 that'll scatter 'em, and then, by Hick, we can make 
 a try for it. Two weeks longer, and we'll probably 
 have no show." 
 
 " I'll be startin' for Boston town some dark night 
 this week. Captain Symington, just as soon as I get 
 men enough to handle the Siren s main sheet, as I 
 told ye." 
 
 "And I, too. Captain Edgar, as soon as I get 
 enough hands to get up the Rattler s anchor. But 
 I'll choose my weather, sir ! " 
 
The Escape of Symington 153 
 
 After a few words more the two skippers shook 
 hands and left the cafe, each bound to the water- 
 front by a different direction. It was certainly a 
 peculiar position that the Yankee craft found them- 
 selves occupying about this time in European 
 waters. Sometimes they would be in a port where 
 lay eight or ten half-dismantled frigates, and over 
 twice as many smaller cruisers and merchantmen 
 belonging to the Empire, all cooped up and kept 
 in there by four or five English sloops of war, or 
 perhaps a guard ship of fifty or sixty guns patrolling 
 up and down the harbor mouth. On the other side 
 of the water, however, the English had succeeded in 
 blockading but one American frigate, the Constella- 
 tion^ early in the war. Afterwards for a few months 
 they hemmed in the United States^ the Macedonian, 
 and the little Hornet in the harbor of New London ; 
 but what would not the United States have given to 
 have possessed those thousands of idle guns that 
 lay in the French naval stations ? She would have 
 manned the helms, spread the sails, and put those 
 great hulks into motion. She might even have 
 done a little " fleet saihng " on her own account. 
 
 But there was some excuse for France. Napoleon 
 had depleted his seacoasts to fill his armies. There 
 were not sufficient able seamen to answer the de- 
 mand, and besides, so long had the French run 
 away from the English at sea, that a thirty-eight- 
 
154 The Escape of Symington 
 
 gun frigate of the Empire had been known to escape 
 a meeting with a British twenty-gun sloop by turning 
 tail and making off. The French flag was a rarity 
 afloat. So every time the Yankee privateers entered 
 or left a port it was necessary to run the blockade 
 that the British had established at the entrance. 
 As this was the state of the home ports also, they 
 had become quite used to it. Seldom or never 
 were they caught in the act. 
 
 But the day came, as the Yankee captains had 
 agreed it would, when Napoleon succumbed entirely. 
 Out came the white cockades ; the tricolor disap- 
 peared. No longer was it " the Emperor," but " the 
 King," and the first request that England made was 
 that the Yankee shipping in French ports should 
 be confiscated and the privateers detained. Great 
 was the consternation of the skippers ; some who 
 had crews sufficient in number to man their vessels 
 put to sea instanter and were taken in by the 
 Channel squadron forthwith. Others remained wait- 
 ing for the weather to thicken and trusting that 
 King Louis would hesitate long enough to give them 
 a chance for life. But the order came at last. The 
 privateers were to be allowed to leave the harbor 
 any time they found a chance to do so ; but before 
 they left, the French King, who was holding fast to 
 his rickety throne, and was merely kept in place 
 by the supporting arms of England, Russia, and 
 
The Escape of Symington 155 
 
 Germany, issued a decree. It was to the effect that 
 the vessels should sail unarmed ; that their broadsides 
 should be taken from them, their cutlasses and 
 small-arms removed, and thus shorn of their teeth 
 and claws, they should be allowed to depart. As 
 every merchantman, almost without exception, in 
 those days carried at least four or five guns handy 
 on the spar deck, this decree was equivalent to pre- 
 senting them to any English vessel that might get 
 range of them. Before the order could be exe- 
 cuted more of the vessels got to sea, and not a 
 few were gobbled up at once by the English 
 cruisers ; some were forced to put back again, 
 and only one or two ever reached the shores of 
 America. 
 
 The day the news arrived early in May, Captain 
 Edgar was one of the first to get his anchor in and 
 make out past the headland as soon as dusk had 
 settled. In a few minutes Symington, also, although 
 his vessel was very short-handed, was getting up his 
 mainsail, and he too would have sailed no doubt, 
 had there not suddenly arisen a sound of firing from 
 the ofiing. Of course there being now peace be- 
 tween France and England, it was possible for the 
 English ships to anchor beside the Americans if they 
 had chosen to do so, and in fact in some of the 
 harbors so penned in were the privateers, that, as 
 one captain expressed it, " they would have to sail 
 
156 The Escape of Symington 
 
 across the deck of a seventy-four to escape to sea." 
 England had respected the neutrality of the French 
 ports thus far ; but if an American vessel was seen 
 preparing to get under way, she would be watched 
 carefully, and if not accompanied by an English ship, 
 her going out would be signalled to the blockaders | 
 off the shore. As the cannonading was kept up for 
 so long a time. Captain Symington supposed, or at 
 least hoped, that the Siren had escaped her enemies. 
 Perhaps the confusion that followed would be a 
 good moment for him to take advantage of, and he 
 determined to sail out at once. 
 
 But it was not to be ; for hardly had he got under 
 way when he was boarded by a cutter filled with 
 armed men, under the command of a Frenchman, 
 dressed in a voluminous coat and a huge cocked 
 hat, who described himself in a breathless sentence 
 as "Monsieur le Capitaine Georges Binda, Inspector 
 of the Port for His Majesty, King Louis." But a 
 few months previously he had been at Napoleon's 
 beck and call, having been one of the recruiting 
 officers of the district. 
 
 Captain Symington's expostulations were of no 
 avail, although owing to his peculiar manner of 
 speech, they appealed to the whole harbor. 
 
 His long twelve-pounder was taken from him, 
 and his neat little battery of carronades, six on a 
 side, were confiscated also. Before noon of the next 
 
The Escape of Symington 157 
 
 day the Rattler had been changed from a tiger cat 
 to a harmless kitten. 
 
 The discomforting news also arrived that Captain 
 Edgar had been blown out of the water, after he 
 had almost succeeded in getting past the English 
 line. This was most disheartening, and that very 
 day many of the Americans, despairing of ever get- 
 ting free, attempted to dispose of their ships by sale. 
 But not so with Symington. He determined not 
 to give up until compelled to ; to hold out until the 
 very last minute. 
 
 The Rattler was light in ballast, and in trim for 
 fast sailing. There were enough men now on board 
 of her to handle her at a pinch, and she could have 
 shown a clean pair of heels to any one of the Eng- 
 lish cruisers then afloat. Although not altogether 
 a beauty to look at, for she was a comparatively old 
 vessel, she was marvellously quick in stays, and 
 came about like a sharpie. In pointing, too, she 
 was a marvel, and once given the windward gage 
 she could choose her own distance. No man could 
 sail the Rattler the way Symington could, and no 
 skipper ever knew the capacities or character of his 
 craft better than did the lank Yankee. She was his 
 pet ; why give her up to be sailed by a lubberly 
 Frenchman ? The very first chance he saw he was 
 going to take. It arrived no later than the second 
 evening after the despoiling. 
 
158 The Escape of Symington 
 
 The moon came up early in the morning ; but 
 about an hour or so before the time for her appear- 
 ance a soft gray fog blew in from the sea. At first 
 the great outline of a British troop-ship close along- 
 side on the Rattler s port hand disappeared grad- 
 ually. Then the numerous anchor lights and the 
 lanterns of the town that had been twinkling brightly 
 in the darkness became but hazy blurs of light 
 through the thickening mist. But when the moon 
 began to cast her silvery light, a marvellous thing 
 happened that caused the second mate, who was on 
 watch, to hurry down into the cabin and call Cap- 
 tain Symington to the deck. The rays of moon- 
 light in the fog caused an opaque, impenetrable veil 
 to surround the ship. So thick was it, that the 
 sensation was as if a white cloth had been tied across 
 the eyes. The masts disappeared a few feet above 
 the deck. If one turned around, it was impossible 
 to tell in which direction the vessel extended. The 
 Rattler lay but a few hundred feet astern of a big 
 French brig that was anchored with a stream anchor 
 over her side to keep her from swinging in toward 
 a point of rocks which was surmounted by a small 
 battery. As soon as Captain Symington reached 
 the deck he stepped across to the bulwarks, and 
 lowering himself down as far as he could go by the 
 chains he perceived what often happens in thick | 
 weather : the fog was lifted some feet from the sur- ^ 
 
The Escape of Symington 159 
 
 face of the water, and close to the water objects 
 could be discerned at some distance. There was 
 not wind enough to sail ; to use the sweeps would 
 have called down on him a fleet of armed small craft 
 in an instant ! Well he knew that rather than see 
 him escape, the transport would go afoul of him and 
 try to explain matters afterwards. 
 
 Now Captain Symington had a remarkably re- 
 tentive memory. It was said that he never had to 
 look at a chart more than twice ; that he could take 
 a vessel over shoals where he had been only once 
 before, and that, years previously. Now this gift 
 stood him in good stead. Just ahead of him lay 
 the big French brig. Within a cable's length of 
 her, a large French man-of-war, but half dismantled; 
 beyond, an English sloop ; then two more vessels. 
 Once outside of them, and there was nothing to pre- 
 vent him from gaining the mouth of the harbor ! 
 How was it to be done ? The fog might last for two 
 or three hours, and yet again it might disappear at 
 any moment. But Symington was not discour- 
 aged ; a brilliant idea came to him ; the crew were 
 called into the cabin, and there by the dim light of 
 a lantern Captain Symington explained his plan. 
 
 The men listened in astonishment. Many stories 
 of wonderful escapes had they heard, and many ad- 
 ventures had they been through ; but such a bold 
 plan of action they had never heard proposed before. 
 
i6o The Escape of Symington 
 
 When all hands returned to the deck, there was 
 not a sound. Although having almost to feel their 
 way, a light new cable was brought up and flaked 
 neatly up and down the deck. Then Captain Sym- 
 ington took the end of it into the stern sheets of 
 his gig, which was silently dropped into the water, 
 and with four men pulling at the carefully muffled 
 oars he made off from beneath the bows, heading 
 for the big French brig, the cable noiselessly paying 
 out into the water over the Rattler s bows. It did 
 not take him long to make fast to the moorings of 
 the brig. This done, he waited anxiously. 
 
 "They are heaving away now, sir," whispered 
 one of the men in the bow of the boat. Sure 
 enough, the cable had tautened under the strain that 
 was being put upon it. Symington at first feared 
 that some attention might be attracted on board the 
 Frenchman ; but there came no sound, and he knew 
 that his people on board the Rattler had silently 
 slipped moorings and that she had way upon her. 
 
 On board the privateer's deck, barefooted men 
 were walking away with the cable over their shoul- 
 ders and causing their light vessel to come boldly 
 along through the water. At a certain length from 
 where the cable was to be made fast, a bit of mar- 
 line had been tied, and when this came inboard the 
 orders were to Vast heaving, belay, and drop the 
 anchor that had been only " hove short " ; that is, 
 
The Escape of Symington i6i 
 
 lifted from the sand. Soon this point was reached. 
 Symington, cast loose, came on board ; a second 
 cable was prepared and spliced to the first, and off 
 he started to make fast to the next vessel lying far- 
 ther out. 
 
 And thus did Symington warp himself beyond 
 the mouth of the inner harbor to a place where he 
 considered it safe enough to get out his sweeps. 
 Manning these, for an hour and more he kept at it. 
 But it was dangerous work. The tides were going 
 down, and although he kept the lead going, he 
 might run on one of the sand-bars at any moment. 
 That he was well out of the channel he knew to a 
 certainty. So at last he dropped anchor, silently, 
 and patiently waited for the fog that had saved him 
 so far, to clear up enough for him to get his bear- 
 ings. 
 
 Toward daylight a slight breeze sprang up, and 
 to his alarm Symington found that a stretch of low 
 beach was under his lee, and it behooved him well 
 to work the Rattler farther out. Getting sail 
 enough up to enable him to trip his anchor, he 
 drew away from shore. Slowly the fog closed down 
 upon him again quite as thick as it had been some 
 hours previously ; but all at once the First Mate, 
 who was forward, cried out in fright : — 
 
 " Starboard your helm! Hard a starboard! '* 
 
 The Rattler s bow fell off a few points, and at 
 
 M 
 
1 62 The Escape of Symington 
 
 that instant there came the shock of a collision, 
 followed by a hail in good sea-faring English, seem- 
 ingly from up in the air. 
 
 " What are you doing there ? What vessel is 
 that ? *' Then there was some bawling and much 
 noise of movement and another hail in a voice that 
 had not yet spoken. 
 
 "On board that vessel! answer me, or I'll blow 
 you out of the water ! " 
 
 By this time Captain Symington was firing off his 
 explosive French sentences, which, as it is impossi- 
 ble to give their full force even in the language in 
 which they were spoken, we will translate. 
 
 " Who are you and what are you doing here ? 
 Answer." 
 
 " The Cigalle of Havre. I try to get into the 
 harbor here." 
 
 There came a laugh from the direction of the 
 strange vessel. " Strange sort of weather for a 
 Frenchman to be sailing in, sir," some one observed. 
 " More than likely one of the Yankees trying to 
 get out." ^ 
 
 That was exactly what Captain Symington was I 
 trying to do, but the collision with the stranger 
 had carried away his port cathead, and with it the 
 anchor had gone to the bottom. By the effect of 
 this unfortunate accident, and the force of the tide, 
 which was now against her, the Rattler s head was 
 
The Escape of Symington 163 
 
 .swung around again, and before anything could pre- 
 vent it, she once more went afoul of the big vessel, 
 whose decks towered higher than her cross-trees. 
 There she hung, under the other's lee, while the 
 English commander, sometimes in French and some- 
 times in English, was cursing Symington for a 
 clumsy Frenchman and threatening to send a shot 
 on board of him. 
 
 It was daylight almost and the wind was freshen- 
 ing. Clearer and clearer the outlines of the great 
 vessel could be seen. 
 
 She was an English seventy-four, that, trying to 
 xnake the harbor, had been headed off by darkness 
 and had anchored in the roads. 
 
 In ten minutes after the breeze began to blow, 
 the air was free from mist. There was no use in 
 trying to indulge in any deception now. The 
 character of the small vessel had been discovered by 
 the big one. A crowd of laughing officers lined the 
 rail, and on her gallery appeared a number of ladies 
 bound most probably for the new court of the new 
 King. The wind was off shore. From the shrill- 
 ing of whistles and babbling of orders it was seen 
 that the battle-ship was getting under way. A man 
 in gold lace leaned out over the rail and said in an 
 off-hand manner : — 
 
 " On board the Yankee there ! Keep under our 
 lee and return to the harbor, or we'll sink you in- 
 
164 The Escape of Symington 
 
 stantly ; play no tricks, if you value your safety . 
 Mark you that." 
 
 Why it was that the Englishman did not drop a 
 boat and put a prize crew on board the Rattler, it 
 might be hard to guess. Symington feared that 
 this would happen, and, although he gave no an- 
 swer to the imperious order, he set about obeying 
 it with every evidence of haste and alacrity. 
 
 But such clumsy work had never been seen before 
 on board a Yankee privateer. Often in naval actions 
 in the old sailing days, when orders were blared 
 through a speaking-trumpet, and not given by little 
 electric bells and signals, as now we have them, the 
 " rule of contrary " was passed in order to deceive 
 the enemy who might overhear and thus anticipate. 
 
 " Hard a port " meant " hard a starboard." A 
 vessel that was supposed to be on the point of luff- 
 ing would bear away, sheets flying. 
 
 Now, on board the Rattler, although no such 
 order had been passed, the men had understood 
 well enough the whispered word. It is a well- 
 known fact that the fore-and-aft rig was best under- 
 stood in America, where it had really been brought 
 to perfection. The English, after they had capt- 
 ured a vessel of the Rattler s class, never succeeded 
 in getting the same sailing qualities out of her, and 
 the upshot of it was that they generally changed her 
 rigging and cut down her masts and sail plan. But 
 
The Escape of Symington 165 
 
 no crew was ever clumsier than was the privateer's 
 on this occasion. They tumbled over one another, 
 they got the halliards twisted, they pretended to be 
 breaking their backs in getting in the anchor when 
 they were not lifting a pound, and all the time the 
 First Mate was running hither and thither like the 
 busy man at the circus, chattering a jargon made up 
 of scraps of Portuguese, Dutch, and Spanish, while 
 above all the confusion. Captain Symington's explo- 
 sive French adjectives rang out like snaps of a whip. 
 
 There had not been the least doubt in the Eng- 
 lish officers' minds a moment since that the little 
 vessel they were looking down upon was an Ameri- 
 can ; but now they were somewhat puzzled, and the 
 whole scene was so laughable that very soon the 
 taffrail was lined again with a tittering crowd, who 
 discussed, in very audible tones, their varying 
 opinions. 
 
 But lazily the great ship was swinging about with 
 a great creaking of yards and flapping of sails. 
 Soon she was moving through the water. A few 
 minutes later and the Rattler was in her wake, and 
 Captain Symington, who certainly did not look 
 French, despite his wonderful vocabulary, made a 
 proud and elaborate bow, and lifted his great beaver 
 hat to the ladies who were now on the quarter-deck 
 enjoying the sight. 
 
 But if the English officers had been puzzled at 
 
1 66 The Escape of Symington 
 
 first and amused afterwards, there was one person 
 on board H. M. S. Ajax who had enjoyed the 
 same sensations in a more intensified fashion. He 
 was looking out of one of the stern ports on the 
 lower gun-deck. A short, thickset man, who did 
 not belong to the battle-ship's company, for he was 
 a prisoner. It was Captain Edgar, and it was the 
 Ajax that had picked up the Siren in a sinking con- 
 dition after she had sustained the fusillade of two 
 nights previously. But every foot the Rattler 
 sailed brought her further into the harbor and les- 
 sened the ultimate chances for escape. But that 
 there was a plan in Captain Symington's mind, 
 Edgar did not doubt. He knew that the Rattler 
 was as handy as a whip, and he kept his eyes open 
 for any sudden development. He did not have to 
 wait long ; there came an unexpected shift of the 
 wind more to the southward just as the Ajax was 
 slowly heaving about to go oflF on the other tack. 
 It caught her all aback ; the great sails clattered, 
 and her headway stopped. She had missed stays. 
 
 It is no laughing matter for a big ship to have 
 this happen to her when approaching a harbor or 
 nearing shallow water. At once the boatswain's 
 whistle began piping away ; orders were shouted, 
 and there was trouble below and aloft. 
 
 But what happened to the clumsily handled craft 
 astern ? She was immediately under the port gal- 
 
"She came about like a peg-top.' 
 
The Escape of Symington 167 
 
 IcrieSj within half a cable's length, doddering along 
 under foresail and mainsail. At the first sign of 
 what had occurred to the battle-ship there ensued 
 a transformation scene. 
 
 Have you ever seen an unwilling dog accompany- 
 ing its master on a walk ? how he sneaks close at 
 the heels, watching his chance when the attention 
 is not directed to him ? How suddenly he turns 
 tail, and after a few cautious movements that bring 
 him beyond the reach of stick or arm, he breaks 
 into a run at full speed, disdaining call or whistle, 
 and puts back for home ? That is exactly what the 
 Rattler did. Scarcely had the canvas of the Ajax 
 begun the ominous fluttering that showed the change 
 of the wind's direction, than the privateer swung off 
 to meet it. 
 
 Slowly at first and then with a rush she came 
 about like a peg top. Without an order being 
 given, out broke the great foresail, the topsails 
 dropped from the gaskets and were sheeted home, 
 and with a lurch to leeward the Rattler stretched 
 out back over her course for the harbor entrance, 
 setting her flying kites as she bowled along ! 
 
 So busy was everybody on board the three-decker, 
 who had troubles of her own to look after, that no 
 one noticed the sudden manoeuvre of the privateer; 
 no one except one of the ladies who happened to be 
 the wife of the Admiral, for the Ajax was a flag- 
 
1 68 The Escape of Symington 
 
 ship. She, after a minute, succeeded in attracting 
 the attention of one of the lieutenants, who with the 
 rest had gone forward to the break of the poop and 
 was watching what was going on below and above 
 him. 
 
 "The Httle ship," she inquired innocently, "where 
 is she going ? '* 
 
 The officer turned and immediately had to beg 
 the lady's pardon most abjectly, for he broke forth 
 into an oath. 
 
 " Tricked, after all ! " he exclaimed, grasping one 
 of his companions by the arm and pointing. 
 
 But there was one other person who had noticed 
 all these goings on. It was the prisoner on the 
 lower spar-deck. 
 
 " You can soak me for a squilgee if that weren't 
 neat," he chuckled, and then lifting his hands to his 
 cheeks, he roared out something through the port. 
 
 The Rattler s Captain, who was at the wheel, had 
 jumped as if the Ajax had suddenly whirled about 
 and let fly a broadside at him, for he heard the words 
 as plain as could be. 
 
 " Good-by, Captain Symington ! Give my re- 
 gards to all at home ! " 
 
 He recognized his old friend Edgar's voice, and 
 it gave him a thrill of pleasure to know that he was 
 alive even if he was a prisoner. 
 
 The Ajax was still in stays ; but her commander 
 
The Escape of Symington 169 
 
 found time to fire his battery of stern-chasers, the 
 balls whistling harmlessly past the Rattler s stern, 
 missing her widely. In reply to this Captain Sym- 
 ington again lifted his old beaver hat. 
 
 Far away to the leeward were the sails of the 
 blockading squadron. Attracted by the firing of the 
 ^jax^ they flew their little flags and crowded on their 
 canvas. But by this time the Rattler had doubled 
 the point and was making out into the dancing 
 waters of the Channel. And who was going to 
 touch her where she had sea-room ? As if anxious 
 to have everything understood, Symington raised 
 his ensign. The English captain, who had been 
 forced to boxhaul his great vessel in order to avoid 
 running on the shoals, cursed beneath his breath. 
 One of the ladies turned to the Admiral's wife. 
 
 "I wonder why we did not start after her, 
 Madame ? " she asked. 
 
 " Oh, because we couldn't turn round quick 
 enough, I suppose," she rejoined. Then turning to 
 her spouse she asked: — 
 
 " Was not that it. Sir John ? " 
 
 " Yes, my dear," responded the Admiral, grimly ; 
 " that was just it." 
 
 Down below. Captain Edgar had not yet recov- 
 ered from his laughing fit ; and when he and Cap- 
 tain Myron Symington met again, as they did many 
 times afterwards, they used to laugh over it together. 
 
THE NARRAGANSETT 
 
THE NARRAGANSETT 
 
 " rnp^WENTY of those confounded Yankees 
 I give me more trouble than three decks 
 full of Frenchmen," remarked Captain 
 Brower of the prison-ship Spartan, one of the fleet 
 of dismantled battle-ships that thronged the har- 
 bor of Plymouth, England. 
 
 Lieutenant Barnard, commanding the neat little 
 sloop of war Sparrow, then on the guard station, 
 laughed. 
 
 " They are troublesome beggars, sure enough," 
 he said ; " but the funny thing is that they behave 
 almost exactly the way our fellows do, or at least 
 would under the same circumstances ; that I verily 
 believe." 
 
 "Well, such insolence and impudence I never 
 saw in my life," returned Brower. " I shall be glad 
 when I get rid of this last batch and will rest easy 
 when they have been sent ashore to Dartmoor. 
 You should have seen the way they behaved about 
 two weeks ago. Let me see, it was the evening of 
 the fourth, I believe. In fact the whole day through 
 
 ^73 
 
174 The Narragansett 
 
 they were at it — skylarking and speech-making 
 and singing." 
 
 It was July, 1 8 14. Many vessels in the govern- 
 ment service of Great Britain, returning from America, 
 or from the high seas, brought into Plymouth crews 
 of American vessels, and not a few of the troops 
 captured about the Lakes and on the Canadian 
 frontier had been brought over also. They were 
 usually kept on board one of the prison hulks for 
 three or four months ; sometimes it was a year or 
 more before they were transferred to the military 
 prisons, the largest of which was situated at Dart- 
 moor, and the second in size at Stapleton, not far 
 from the town of Gloucester. Although the prison- 
 ships and the prisons themselves were crowded with 
 Frenchmen, the Yankees were three or four times 
 as much trouble to control and to command. When 
 they were not planning to escape, they were generally 
 bothering the sentinels, drawing up petitions, or 
 having some row or other, if only for the fun of 
 turning out the guard. 
 
 " I wish somebody else had this position," 
 grumbled Captain Brower, pouring out a glass of 
 port. " I don't think that I was made for it. 
 When I am left alone, I am liable to become too 
 lenient, and when I am angered, perhaps I may be 
 too hasty. ... At any rate, I wish some one else 
 was here in my place. ... I had to laugh the 
 
The Narragansett 175 
 
 other day, though ; you know old Bagwigge of the 
 Germanicus^ here alongside, what a hot-tempered, 
 testy old fellow he is ? Well, the other day he was 
 walking up and down his old quarter-deck, and 
 about fourscore of my Yankee prisoners were up 
 on deck for air and exercise. Suddenly they began 
 singing. Now, I don't object to that ; if they'd 
 never do anything worse, I'd be happy. They've 
 only cut four holes through different parts of this 
 ship, and once well-nigh scuttled her ; but never 
 mind ; to go on : Bagv/igge, he walks to the side 
 and shouts across to my vessel : ' Hi, there ! you 
 confounded Yankees ! avast that everlasting row.' 
 I didn't see that it was any of his business, as it was 
 on my own ship; but the Yankees — I wish you had 
 seen them, Barnard, upon my soul." 
 
 " What did they do ? Slanged him, I suppose, 
 terrible." 
 
 "Well, you see," continued Captain Brower, "the 
 potatoes had just been given out for the use of the 
 prison mess cooks, and three big baskets of them 
 lay there on the deck. One of the Yankees threw 
 a potato that caught old Captain B. fair and square 
 on the side of his head, capsizing his hat and nearly 
 fetching away his ear. ' You insolent villains ! ' he 
 cried, almost jumping up on the rail, ' I'll make you 
 sweat your blood for this.' Well, ha, ha, not only 
 one potato was thrown this time, but about half a 
 
1^6 The Narragansett 
 
 bushel, r faith, but those rascals were good shots. 
 Old Bagwigge, he was raked fore and aft. Turning, 
 he ran for it, and dove in the cabin." 
 
 The younger man laughed. The officer about 
 whom the tale had been told was not popular in the 
 service. He had had no Americans on board his 
 prison hulk, and the Frenchmen who were tempo- 
 rarily his guests trembled at his frown and cringed 
 at his gesture. He was an overbearing, hot- 
 tempered martinet, and was hated accordingly. But 
 this was not the end of Captain Brower's story, and 
 as soon as the Lieutenant had stopped laughing, he 
 resumed : — 
 
 " Let me go on, for I haven't finished yet. When 
 Bagwigge returned, he had with him a file of marines. 
 Up he marches 'em, and the Yankees greeted them 
 with a cheer, and then seeing that the Captain was 
 going to speak to them, they desisted to let him talk. 
 
 ' Now,' he said, ' you impudent scoundrels, be- 
 low with you ; every mother's son of you, or I'll — ' 
 He hadn't got any farther than that when the same 
 fellow who threw the first potato hit him again. 
 He was only about forty feet away, you know, and 
 with such force was the vegetable thrown that it 
 nearly took his head off his shoulders. ' Fire ! ' he 
 roared. ' Fire at them ! ' I doubt whether the 
 marines could have taken aim, they were so busy 
 dodging potatoes, and as for Bagwigge himself, he 
 
The Narragansett 177 
 
 was jumping, bubbling, and sizzling like a blob of 
 butter in a skillet. I rushed forward and jumped 
 on to the forecastle rail. 
 
 " ' If you dare fire. Captain Bagwigge,' 1 cried, 
 ' you'll swing for it ! ' At this, he dove down the 
 companionway again, with his marines after him. I 
 turned to the prisoners and ordered them below, 
 where they went readily enough. As to Bagwigge, 
 I don't suppose that I'll hear from him again ; I 
 hope that he will attend to his own vessel and 
 leave mine alone." 
 
 All this conversation, or at least the relation of 
 Captain Brower's story, had taken place in the 
 Spartan s . cabin, and when the two officers left, a 
 detail of the prisoners was on the deck, walking 
 briskly back and forth under the eyes of armed 
 sentries, who guarded the gangways and patrolled 
 narrow board walks, raised some two or three feet 
 above the hammock-nettings. 
 
 " Do you see that tall, brown fellow, there } " 
 asked Captain Brower, pointing. " He is the one 
 who did such sharp shooting with the potatoes." 
 
 "A strange-looking creature, surely," responded 
 the Commander of the Sparrow, "He looks a half- 
 tamed man. Well, I wish you less trouble and all 
 success. Good day to you ; I have to return to 
 my ship." 
 
 Brower turned and went back into his cabin. 
 
178 The Narragansett 
 
 Although he did not know it, and would have 
 denied it if he had been told the truth, he was ex- 
 actly the man for the position, for he was just and 
 painstaking, humane and careful. Although there 
 had been all sorts of attempts to escape formulated 
 among the Yankees, and almost carried into suc- 
 cessful execution, Brower had not lost a single pris- 
 oner, and his presence among them could restore 
 order and quell a disturbance better than the parad- 
 ing of a file of soldiers. 
 
 They were a strange lot, these captives. They 
 came from all walks of life, and from every sort of 
 place. Raw militiamen, who had been surrendered 
 by Hull (the army Hull, mark you, not the brave 
 Commodore), privateersmen, captured in all sorts 
 of crafts and dressed in all fashions, but now princi- 
 pally in rags, and men-of-warsmen who had given 
 themselves up while serving on board English ships 
 rather than fight against their country. These last 
 held themselves rather aloof from the others and 
 messed by themselves. Poor devils, they had never 
 had the satisfaction, even, of having struck a blow. 
 They had turned from one kind of slavery to an- 
 other ; that was all. 
 
 The tall, odd-looking figure that Captain Brower 
 had pointed out, belonged to the wildest mess on 
 the orlop deck. His appearance might, perhaps, 
 be called startling ; he was far from ill-looking, with 
 
The Narragansett 179 
 
 straight aquiline features, deep-set and quick black 
 eyes that could laugh or look cruel almost at the 
 same moment. His teeth were beautifully white 
 and even, and although he was not heavy or com- 
 pact looking, he was as strong almost as any two 
 other men on board the ship. He spoke English 
 without an accent, but with an odd form and phras- 
 ing that would have attracted attention to him any- 
 where. His clear skin was the color of new copper 
 sheathing, and his straight black hair that was gath- 
 ered sailor fashion into a queue was as coarse as a 
 horse's mane. The grandson of a chief he was, 
 a descendant of the line of kings that had ruled the 
 Narragansett tribes — a full-blooded Indian. But 
 he rejoiced in no fine name. A sailor before the 
 mast he had been since his sixteenth year, and he 
 had appeared on the books of the privateer brig 
 Teaser as John Vance, A.B. It is a wrong sup- 
 position that an Indian will never laugh or that he 
 is not a fun-maker. John Vance was constantly 
 skylarking, and he was a leader in that, as he was 
 in almost all the games of skill or strength. Every 
 one liked him, and to a certain extent he was 
 feared, for a tale was told in which John and a 
 knife figured extensively. The flash that would 
 come into his eye gave warning often when the 
 danger Hmit was being approached, yet he was pop- 
 ular, and even the detested marine guard treated 
 
i8o The Narragansett 
 
 him with some deference. In the last attempt to 
 escape, the Narragansett had been captured after he 
 had swum half-way to the shore and had dived more 
 than twenty times to escape musket-balls from the 
 guard-ships. Suddenly the order came " Prisoners 
 below" — and the ship-bell struck eight sonorous 
 strokes. As the last four or five men left the deck, 
 the Indian touched one of them upon the shoulder. 
 " Watch me," he said, " and say nothing." 
 There was a narrow door in a bulkhead close to 
 the companionway, but out of reach unless there 
 was something like a box or barrel on which to 
 stand. It was closed by a padlock thrust through 
 two iron staples. As John descended, he caught 
 the combing of the hatch and drew himself up to a 
 level with his chin. Holding himself there with 
 one arm, he reached forward and caught the pad- 
 lock in his brown, sinewy fingers. Slowly he 
 turned his hand. The iron bent and gave a little. 
 A grin crossed his face. Swinging himself forward, 
 he landed on a man's shoulders beneath him, and 
 with a wild warwhoop he tumbled a half-dozen 
 down the rest of the ladder, and they sprawled in a 
 heap on the deck. Disdaining to notice the half- 
 humorous curses, he sprang to his feet. Three 
 other men who belonged to his mess followed him. 
 Can you do it. Red ? " asked one. 
 Yes, surely," John replied. " So I can to-night." 
 
 
The Narragansett i8i 
 
 The whole of the gun-deck forward of the fore- 
 castle hatch had been divided, by a strong partition, 
 into a sort of storeroom. There was one entrance 
 into it from above from the topgallant forecastle, 
 where part of the marine guard were stationed, and 
 the other opening onto the hatchway^ to be used in 
 case of emergency. 
 
 It was just past the midnight watch when four 
 stealthy figures crept out from the shadows into the 
 light of the dingy lantern that hung at the foot of 
 the companionway. At night there was only one 
 sentry stationed there, and he generally sat halfway 
 up the ladder, and it was impossible for the prisoners 
 to tell without crossing the dead-line that was drawn 
 at night whether he was asleep or not. This was 
 the risk that had to be undertaken ; for if the man 
 should see any one pass beneath that old rope that 
 was drawn across the deck, he would have a right to 
 fire. If the fellow was asleep, yet to gain the deck 
 above, the venturesome prisoner would have to pass 
 within arm's length of him. 
 
 Perhaps John Vance had inherited from his long 
 line of red ancestors the peculiar knack of moving 
 without sound, the art of crawling on his belly like 
 a snake, perhaps he had a acquired it by constant 
 practice since he had been a prisoner. For it was 
 his boast, and one that had been proved to be true, 
 that contrary to rules he had visited every part of 
 
1 82 The Narragansett 
 
 the ship, and after hours ; as has been told, he 
 had been retaken a number of times when just on 
 the point of making good his escape. 
 
 The three seamen who accompanied him on this 
 occasion could see the legs of the sentry from the 
 knee down, as he sat on the steps of the ladder lead- 
 ing to the berth-deck above. They could also see 
 the butt of his musket as it rested beside him. 
 Vance had disappeared in the black shadow that 
 lay along the starboard side, and now the watchers 
 saw a curious thing take place. The sentry's mus- 
 ket suddenly tilted forward, as if of its own voUticn, 
 and then disappeared backward into the darkness, 
 without a sound, much in the manner of a vanishing 
 slide in a magic lantern. The man's legs did not 
 move. 
 
 " He is asleep," whispered Ned Thornton to 
 Bill Pratt. 
 
 " He's asleep," reiterated Bill Pratt to Gabe Sack- 
 ett, who made the fourth one of the " constant 
 plotters," as they were termed by the other prisoners. 
 
 But in one minute that sentry was seen to be very 
 wide awake indeed. That is, if movement signified 
 wakefulness. His legs shot out in two vicious and 
 sudden kicks. A hand, with wide-spread, reaching 
 fingers, stretched out as if searching for the missing 
 musket. The man wriggled from one side to an- 
 other and floundered helplessly, with his body half- 
 
The Narragansett 183 
 
 way off the edge of the ladder. But not one sound 
 
 did he utter ! 
 
 " Red's got hold of him," croaked Thornton, and 
 with the assurance of hunters who had watched their 
 quarry step into the trap that held him fast, they 
 stepped forward without fear or caution. 
 
 It was as Thornton had said. The poor sentry's 
 head was wedged against the steps. Around his 
 throat were clasped the fingers of two sinewy, 
 bronze-colored hands that held the victim as closely 
 and in as deadly a clasp as might the strap of the 
 Spanish garrote. The scene was really horrible. 
 Sackett leaned about the edge of the ladder, and 
 then he saw what a wonderful thing the Narragan- 
 sett had done. The combing of the hatchway was 
 fully six feet from where the sentry sat. Below 
 yawned the black abyss into the mid-hold. Across 
 this Vance had been forced to lean, balancing him- 
 self with one hand when he relieved the sentry of his 
 musket, and then springing forward he had caught 
 him from behind, about the throat. There the 
 Indian hung as a man might hang over the mouth 
 of a well. No wonder the unfortunate marine had 
 been unable to cry out ! 
 
 " Let go of him. Red," whispered Gabe. "You've 
 choked him enough." The Indian stretched out 
 one of his feet and hooked it over the hatch comb- 
 ing. With a supple movement and without a stum- 
 
184 The Narragansett 
 
 ble, he stood erect upon the deck. The sentry 
 would have plunged over into the hold, had not the 
 two others grasped him firmly by the shoulders. 
 They carried him to one side and laid him in the 
 deep shadow against a bulkhead. He was breathing, 
 but insensible. 
 
 The rest of the escape can be told in a few words : 
 The lock of the door leading into the storeroom 
 was wrenched away, and noiselessly the four entered, 
 closing it behind them. They had been just in 
 time, for they could hear, on the deck above, the 
 new watch coming on. A port on one side of the 
 storeroom was guarded by three flimsy iron bars. 
 There was enough light outside from the young 
 moon to show the direction of the opening. 
 
 Vance bent the irons double at the first attempt. 
 They were almost twenty feet above the water, for 
 the old hulk floated high. But everything seemed 
 working for the furtherance of their plan. There 
 was a new coil of rope on the deck, and looking out 
 of the port right beneath them, they could see a 
 ship's dingy with the oars in it. Sackett slid down 
 first ; the other two followed, and Vance remained 
 until the last. No sooner had he made the boat in 
 safety than a great hubbub and confusion sounded 
 through the ship. There came a sharp blare of a 
 bugle, the rolling of the alarm drum, and they 
 could hear the slamming of the heavy hatches that 
 
The Narragansett 185 
 
 prevented communication from one part of the 
 vessel to the other. The prisoners, cooped up 
 below, knew what it all meant. Some one was out, 
 and there in the pitch darkness they fell to cheering. 
 
 But to return to the "constant plotters," in the 
 dingy : they had made but a dozen boat's-lengths 
 when they were discovered, for there was light 
 enough to see objects a long distance across the 
 water. There came a quick hail, followed by a 
 spurt of flame. 
 
 " Lord ! " Pratt, who was pulling stroke oar with 
 Sackett alongside of him, groaned ; " I caught that 
 in the shoulder." One of his arms drooped help- 
 lessly, but he continued rowing with the other. 
 
 " Let go," grunted Sackett ; " I can work it alone 
 
 — lie down in the stern sheets." 
 
 There were three or four vessels, mostly prison 
 or sheer hulks, to be passed before they gained 
 the shore. From each one there came a volley. 
 Poor Sackett received a ball through his lungs and 
 fell into the bottom of the boat, bleeding badly. 
 And now the boats were after them ! 
 
 Vance and Thornton pulled lustily at the oars ; 
 but the others gained a foot in every four. The 
 dingy was splintered by the hail of musket-balls. 
 One of the prison hulks — the last they had to pass 
 
 — let go a carronade loaded with grape. It awoke 
 the echoes of the old town. So close was the 
 
1 86 The Narragansett 
 
 charge delivered that it had hardly time to scatter, 
 arid churned the water into foam just astern of the 
 little boat as if some one had dumped a bushel of 
 gravel stones into the waters of the harbor. Not 
 three hundred feet ahead of the foremost pursuing 
 boat, the dingy's keel grated on the shingle. 
 
 The Narragansett sprang out, Thornton after 
 him. Sackett could not be raised. Pratt, holding 
 his wounded and disabled arm, staggered up the in- 
 cline towards some stone steps leading to the road- 
 way above. But he had hardly reached the foot 
 when there came another shot. He fell face down- 
 ward and made no attempt to rise. Sackett and 
 he would join in no more plots ; but Vance and 
 Thornton were now running down a side street. 
 
 They dodged about a corner into an alley ; 
 crossed a small common, and just as they reached 
 the other side they ran, bows on, into a heavy 
 cloaked figure, who, seeing their haste, hailed them 
 peremptorily, and sprang a huge rattle, making 
 much the same noise that a small boy does when 
 he runs down a picket fence with a stick. Thorn- 
 ton was laboring ahead like a wherry in a tideway. 
 But the Indian was striding along like a racehorse, 
 with the easy, springing gait inherited from his own 
 father, " Chief Fleetfoot," who, if the story told be 
 true, could run down a red deer in the woods. He 
 turned to assist his comrade by taking hold of him 
 
The Narragansett 187 
 
 and giving him a tow. But as he did so, Thorn- 
 ton*s foot struck a round stone and he fell forward, 
 and lay there groaning. 
 
 " Run on, Red ! run on ! '* he cried breathlessly. 
 " I've broken a leg ; something's carried away in 
 my pins ; on with you ! " 
 
 " Come you with me too," answered the Narra- 
 gansett, pulling Thornton to his feet with one 
 hand ; but the poor lad groaned and fell again. 
 
 "Run ahead, curse you!" he said. " Don't stay 
 here and be taken ! " 
 
 The watchman's rattle had attracted the notice of 
 the people in the houses. Windows were opened 
 and heads were thrust forth, and from about a cor- 
 ner came another cloaked figure carrying a lantern, 
 and a big pike was in his hand. 
 
 There was nothing else to do, and, obeying 
 Thornton's angry order, the Indian struck out 
 again into his long distance-covering gait. Which 
 way he ran It made little matter to him. He did 
 not know the country ; he had no plans ; but the 
 feel of the springy earth beneath his feet was good 
 to him. The sight of the stars shining through the 
 branches of the trees overhead — for he had soon 
 reached the open country and left the town behind 
 him — made him breathe the air in long, deep breaths, 
 and tempted him to shout. It was freedom; liberty ! 
 The dim moonlight softened everything, and to his 
 
1 88 The Narragansett 
 
 mind he seemed to be flying. He passed by great 
 stone ^rchways leading to private parks and great 
 estates. Twice he had avoided little hamlets of 
 thatched cottages. Once he had run full speed 
 through the streets of a little village, and had been 
 hailed by the watchman, who sprang his harmless 
 rattle. But it was growing light. He must find 
 some place to hide, for travel during the daytime 
 he knew he could not. Leaping a fence, he made 
 his way into an adjoining field and lay down, pant- 
 ing, beneath some bushes. 
 
 Soon cocks began to crow ; daylight widened ; a 
 bell in an ivy-covered tower tolled musically. In- 
 sects commenced their morning hum ; birds twit- 
 tered, and people moved out to their toil. From 
 his hiding-place the Narragansett watched the un- 
 usual sight. In a field below him — for he lay at the 
 top of a small hill — he could see some men and 
 women working in a field of grain. One of the 
 girls had placed a basket beneath the shade of a 
 bush. The Indian was hungry. It required little 
 trouble to snake himself through the grass and 
 secure the contents of the little hamper, a loaf of 
 bread and a large piece of cheese. Then he care- 
 fully replaced the cover and stole back to his former 
 hiding-place. Soon he observed, in the road below 
 him, a man riding along at a fast gait ; he pulled in 
 his horse and shouted something to the workers in 
 
The Narragansett 189 
 
 the field. This done, he rode at top speed into the 
 village. Very soon another horseman appeared, 
 and soon quite a little band of them, among whom 
 was a mounted soldier or two, and three or four in 
 the pink coats of the hunting-field. 
 
 But near footsteps sounded. A man in leather 
 gaiters, with a fowling-piece over his shoulder, was 
 coming down a little path from some deep woods 
 on the right. A setter dog played in front of him. 
 The man was reading a freshly printed notice. The 
 ink was smeared from handling. The man spelled 
 it out aloud. " Escaped from the hulks ; a danger- 
 ous prisoner ; a wild American Indian ; ten pounds 
 reward," and much more of it. 
 
 All of a sudden the dog stopped ; then with a 
 short bark, he sprang forward. At the same 
 instant the gamekeeper dropped the printed notice 
 that had been handed to him but a minute previ- 
 ously by a horseman on the road. Surely he 
 could not be mistaken, something had dodged 
 down behind yonder hedge ; and as the setter sprang 
 forward, barking viciously, a strange figure arose, 
 a man with a copper-colored face, and streaming, 
 unkempt, black locks ; he wore big gold ear-rings, 
 and he was clad in a torn canvas shirt and trousers, 
 with a sailor's neckerchief around his throat. The 
 dog was bounding forward when suddenly the figure 
 raised its arm. No cricketer that ever played on 
 
190 The Narragansett 
 
 the village green could throw with such unerring 
 force. A large stone struck the dog and took the 
 fight out of him. Yelping, he sneaked back to his 
 master's heels. The startled gamekeeper raised 
 his gun and fired. Whether it was because of his 
 sudden fright or the quickness with which the agile 
 figure dropped at the flash, the charge whistled 
 harmlessly through the leaves. But the sound of 
 the shot had attracted the attention of the people 
 in the fields. A cry arose, as a weird figure broke 
 from the bushes and dashed down the hill, making 
 for the woods. 
 
 " Gone away ! gone away ! whoop, hi ! ** — the 
 view hallo of the huntsman. 
 
 A man in a red coat had sighted the chase. He 
 leaped a fence, and four or five other horsemen 
 followed. Soon there came the shrill yelping of 
 the dogs as they found the plain trail of the bare- 
 foot man running for his life. 
 
 It was a great run, that man-hunt, and one re- 
 membered to this day. Over fence and hedge, 
 across ditch and stream, the Narragansett led them. 
 No trained hurdler that ever ran across country 
 in the county of Devonshire could have held the 
 pace that Vance kept up. Twice he threw them oflF 
 the scent by running up a stream and doubling on 
 his tracks. But the whole countryside was out and 
 after him. The dogs were gaining on him swiftly, 
 
•*Over fence and hedge. 
 
The Narragansett 191 
 
 and at last at the foot of a great oak they had him 
 cornered. He fought them off with a broken 
 branch, and soon the pack surrounded him in a 
 yelping circle, not daring to come nearer. 
 
 Up came the huntsmen. They halted at some 
 distance and talked among themselves. Who 
 among them was brave enough to go up and lay 
 hold of this strange wild man ? They called off 
 the dogs and waited for the soldiers. Eight or ten 
 yokels and some farmer folks joined the gaping 
 crowd. Five men appeared with muskets, and one 
 with a long coil of rope. But all this time the 
 Narragansett had stood there with his back against 
 an oak tree, with a sneer on his thin lips. They 
 talked aloud as to how they should capture him. 
 Some were for shooting him down at once ; but as yet 
 no one had addressed a word to him direct. Surely, 
 he must speak an outlandish foreign tongue ! Sud- 
 denly, the fugitive took a step forward and raised 
 his hand. 
 
 " Englishmen," he said, " listen to me." 
 
 All started back in astonishment. Why, this 
 wild man spoke their own language ! 
 
 " Who is the chief here ? Who is the captain? " 
 Every one looked at a middle-aged man astride a 
 sturdy brown cob. He was the Squire, and magis- 
 trate of the neighborhood. 
 
 " Well, upon my soul," he began, " I suppose — " 
 
192 The Narragansett 
 
 But the Narragansett interrupted him. " To you 
 I give myself," he said, advancing. He glanced at 
 the others with supreme contempt. As he came 
 forward, he held out his hand, and involuntarily the 
 man on horseback stretched forth his. It was a 
 strange sight, that greeting. The crowd gave way a 
 Httle, and three or four mounted dragoons came 
 tearing up hill. They stopped in astonishment. 
 
 "You gave us a good run," said the Squire, 
 with some embarrassment, not knowing what to 
 say. 
 
 " You are too many ; I am your prisoner," was 
 the answer. 
 
 No one laid hands on him. Walking beside the 
 Squire's horse down to the road, followed by the 
 gaping, gabbling crowd, who still, however, kept 
 aloof, the Narragansett walked proudly erect. When 
 he reached the highway, he turned. There was a 
 cart standing there. The Squire dismounted from 
 his horse and spoke a few words to the driver. 
 Then he mounted to the seat. John Vance sprang 
 up beside him. At a brisk pace they started down 
 the road towards Portsmouth, the soldiers and the 
 horsemen trailing on behind them. At the landing 
 where the boat from the old Spartan met them — 
 for a horseman had ridden on with the news — was 
 waiting a sergeant of marines. He advanced with a 
 pair of handcuffs. 
 
The Narragansett 193 
 
 " None of that ! " exclaimed the Squire. " This 
 man has given me his word." 
 
 "The word of a chief's son," put in the Narra- 
 gansett. The two men shook hands again ; then 
 proudly John Vance stepped into the boat, and 
 unmanacled sat there in the stern sheets. 
 
 In twenty minutes he was once more down in the 
 close, foul-smelling 'tween decks. 
 
 The only notice taken of the Narragansett's break 
 for liberty was the fact that he was numbered among 
 the next detail bound for Dartmoor ; but the tradi- 
 tion of the man-hunt of Squire Knowlton's hounds, 
 and its curious ending, lives in Devonshire to-day. 
 
FIGHTING STEWART 
 
FIGHTING STEWART 
 
 AN old sailor sat on the Constitution s fore- 
 castle, with his back against the carriage 
 of one of the forward carronades. He 
 was skilfully unwinding a skein of spun yarn which 
 he held over his two bare feet, while at the same 
 time he rolled the ball deftly with his stubby, joint- 
 less fingers. A young boy, not over fourteen years 
 of age, lay sprawled flat on the deck beside him, his 
 chin supported in the hollows of his two hands, his 
 elbows on the deck. 
 
 " It comes all along o' drinkin' rum, says I," 
 went on the old sailor, continuing some tale he had 
 been telling. "That, I claims, is the reason for 
 many unfortunate doin's ; and that is why all 
 them men I was tellin' you about was eat by the 
 cannibals." 
 
 " I don't see as it made any difference," broke in 
 the boy, " except perhaps in the taste. If they 
 were bent on going where they did, they'd have 
 been eaten anyhow, wouldn't they ? " 
 
 " As to that," returned the old sailor, " I contra- 
 dict ye. Rum sometimes makes a fellow want to 
 
 197 
 
198 Fighting Stewart 
 
 fight when it's a tarnel sight braver to run ; that is, 
 upon some occashuns." 
 
 " Some folks get so they can't even wiggle, 
 let alone run," observed the boy. " I saw our 
 o sun — 
 
 "Don't speak uncharitable of your neighbors, 
 son," observed the old man. "All I can say is 
 that I don't take no stock in grog ; thereby being' 
 the peculiarest man in the service, I dessay. I've 
 seen lessons, as I was tellin' ye. You see, all those 
 friends of mine would been livin' to-day if they 
 hadn't taken on cargoes of that thar African wine. 
 Yes, they got to suppose that they could lick about 
 twenty times their weight of black niggers, and so 
 they started in, and never come back. But I, not 
 drinkin' nothin', jes' kep' by the boat, an' when 
 them savages come after me, I warn't there. Had 
 a terrible time gettin' off to the ship all alone ; but 
 I done it, an' thar's the best temperance lecture I 
 know of. I got a hull lot of texts out of the Good 
 Book ; but most people won't listen to 'em ; least- 
 ways on board of this ship." 
 
 " I reckon you are the only man what don't take 
 his grog here," said the boy. 
 
 "That I be," returned the old sailor, "and, by 
 Sal, I'm proud of it! 'No, thankee, messmate,' 
 says I when it comes around, ' I don't need that to 
 keep my chronometer goin'.' Then they all laughs 
 
Fighting Stewart 199 
 
 generally, and calls me a fresh-water moss-back. 
 Some day 'an I'll git even with 'em." 
 
 Old Renwick, although somewhat of a butt of 
 the crew, was respected nevertheless because of his 
 being a good seaman, and because he also had made 
 a record for himself in the old days during the war 
 with France and the adventurous times with Preble 
 in the Mediterranean. He was a great favorite 
 with Captain Stewart, then the Commander of the 
 old frigate, and by him he had been promoted to 
 the position of quartermaster. He would never 
 have succeeded in qualifying for the position of boat- 
 swain or for any higher grade than that which he 
 now held, for the simple reason that the old fellow 
 was too lenient in his discipline and too ready to 
 condole with the faults of others except where rum 
 was concerned. 
 
 It was Renwick's greatest delight to secure a soli- 
 tary and attentive listener and spin a long yarn to 
 him. He spoke without the usual profane punct- 
 uation, — the habit of most seamen, — and when off 
 watch he read his Bible most assiduously. He had 
 had many adventures in his forty-four years at sea, 
 and his memory being a most retentive one, it re- 
 quired little excuse for him to start on a long men- 
 tal peregrination through the laden fields of his 
 memory. 
 
 Many were the occasions when the boy found 
 
200 Fighting Stewart 
 
 time to become Renwick's solitary auditor. The 
 lad was bright, and this was but his second voyage 
 at sea. He was one of those children who, al- 
 though born inland and away from the smell of the 
 ocean, still must inherit from their ancestors the keen 
 desire to seek adventures and see strange countries 
 — he dreamed of ships and the deep. Once firmly 
 rooted, this feeling never dies ; despite hardships, 
 wrecks, and disasters, the sailor returns to his calling. 
 The boy had never seen an action. But he had 
 rejoiced with the rest at America's many victories ; 
 he had joined with the crowd that had followed the 
 parading sailors in New York after Hull's great 
 victory, and he had peeped in at the window of the 
 hotel upon the occasion of the dinner given to 
 Decatur and to Bainbridge and to the Guerrieres 
 conqueror — all this while on a visit to the city 
 from his home in the mountains of New Jersey. 
 And thus inflamed with the idea, he had run away 
 to sea, and had made his first voyage, eight or ten 
 months previous to the opening of the story, in a 
 little privateer that had an uneventful cruise and 
 returned to port after taking two small prizes that 
 had offered no resistance. His entering on board 
 the Constitution had been with the permission of his 
 parents, who saw that the only way to hold him 
 from following his bent would be to keep him at 
 home forever under their watchful eyes. 
 
Fighting Stewart 201 
 
 A great war-ship is a small floating world, and, 
 like the world, the dangers that beset a young man 
 starting alone on his career are many. There are 
 the good and the bad, the leaders and the led ; the 
 people who lift up others, and those who lean. It 
 was rather well for the boy that he had met with 
 old Renwick and conceived a friendship for him. 
 From the old sailor the lad had learned much. He 
 was an expert at tying knots already, and he had 
 learned to hand, reef, and steer after a fashion on 
 board the privateer schooner. The royal yards on 
 a man-of-war are always manned by boys, because 
 of their agility and hghtness. This boy was a born 
 topman ; he exulted in the sense of freedom that 
 comes to one when laying out upon a swaying yard; 
 the bounding exhilaration of the heart, the exciting 
 quickening of the pulse as the great mass describes 
 arcs of huge circles as the vessel far below swings 
 and rises through the seas. 
 
 The attention of the officers had been called to 
 him more than once, and if there was a ticklish job 
 aloft above the cross-trees, the boy was sent to per- 
 form it. On one occasion he had excited a repri- 
 mand for riding down a backstay head foremost, 
 the First Lieutenant observing, and speaking to 
 him thus : " While that would do for a circus, it 
 wasn't the thing for shipboard." But he was a 
 perfect monkey with the ropes, and nothing de- 
 
202 Fighting Stewart 
 
 lighted him better than scampering up the shrouds, 
 or shinning to the main truck to disengage the pen- 
 nant halliards. He used to sing, in his shrill, high 
 voice, even when struggling to get in the stiffened 
 canvas in a gale. 
 
 On the 20th of February (the year was 1815) 
 the First Lieutenant made the early morning in- 
 spection of the ship. He had hoped that the 
 clouds and thickness that had prevailed for a few 
 days would disappear, for it seemed as if for once 
 " Old Ironsides" was pursued by the demon of 
 bad luck in the way of weather. At one p.m., after 
 a fruitless attempt to catch a glimpse of the sun for 
 a noonday sight, the clouds broke away and the 
 breeze freshened. The boy and his companions 
 jumped at the orders to " shorten sail and take in the 
 royals.*' Quickly they climbed the shrouds, passed 
 one great yard after another in their upward jour- 
 ney, and came at last to the royals. The boy was 
 first. He looked down at the narrow deck below 
 him, and at the curved surfaces of the billowing 
 sails. It seemed as if his weight alone would suf- 
 fice to overturn the vessel. The lightness and deli- 
 cacy of the entire fabric were never so apparent to 
 him. He could see his companions crawling up, 
 their faces lifted, and panting from their exertions. 
 The sunlight cast dark blue shadows on the sails 
 below. Two great ridges of foam stretched out 
 
Fighting Stewart 203 
 
 from the Constitutiori s bows. The taut sheets had 
 begun to hum under the stress of the increasing 
 breeze. The boy began to chant his strange song 
 — a song of pure exhilaration. 
 
 With so many light kites flying, something might 
 carry away at any moment, however, and he heard 
 the officer of the deck shout up for them to hasten. 
 Then he let his eyes rove toward the horizon line 
 as he took his position in the bunt. 
 
 Far away against the sky where the clouds shut 
 down upon the water, he saw a speck of white ! 
 Leaning back from the yard, he drew a long breath ; 
 those on deck stopped their work for an instant, 
 the officer took a step sideways in order the better 
 to see the masthead. 
 
 "Sail ho!" clear and distant had come down 
 from the royal yard. 
 
 "Where away?" called the officer, making a 
 trumpet of his hands. 
 
 "Two points off the larboard bow, sir," was the 
 reply. 
 
 " Clew up and clew down," was now the order. 
 The steersman climbed the wheel, and with a great 
 bone in her teeth the Constitution hauled her wind 
 and made sail in chase of the distant stranger. In 
 a quarter of an hour she was made out to be a ship, 
 and then came the cry a second time : " Sail ho ! " 
 There was another vessel ahead of the first ! A 
 
204 Fighting Stewart 
 
 half an hour more, and both were discovered to 
 be ships standing close-hauled, with their starboard 
 tacks on board. At eight bells in the afternoon 
 they were in plain sight from the deck, little sig- 
 nal flags creeping up and down their halliards — 
 ship fashion, they were holding consultation. Then 
 the weathermost bore up for her consort, who was 
 about ten miles distant and to leeward ; and crowding 
 on everything she could carry again, the Constitu- 
 tion boiled along after her. The lower, topmast, 
 topgallant, and royal studding-sails were thrown out, 
 and hand over hand she overhauled them. 
 
 The boy was aloft again. He had caught the 
 fever of excitement that even the old hands felt, as 
 they saw that the magazine was open and that 
 powder and shot were being dealt out for the divi- 
 sions. The half-ports to leeward had to be kept 
 closed to prevent the water from flooding the 
 decks. 
 
 The boy stayed after the other youngsters had 
 descended. He could feel the royal mast swaying 
 and whipping like a fishing-rod — the stays were 
 as tight as the strings of a fiddle. They felt like 
 iron to the grasp ; they had narrowed under the 
 tension. The wind in the deep sails below played 
 a sonorous bass to the high treble of their singing. 
 The ship was murmuring like a hive, now and 
 then creaking as she lurched under the pressure. 
 
Fighting Stewart 205 
 
 How it happened the boy never knew ; but as sud- 
 denly as winking there came a report as of a cannon 
 aloft ; the main royal, upon the yard of which he 
 was leaning, flew off, and caught by the tacks and 
 sheets, fell down across the yard below. The main- 
 topgallant mast had been carried clean away. No one, 
 not even the boy himself, knew how it all occurred. 
 Perhaps he had laid hold of one of the reef points. 
 Perhaps he had made a lucky jump. But there he 
 lay in the bight made by the folds of the royal, 
 softly resting against the bosom of the sail below, 
 unhurt, but slightly dizzy. From the hamper of 
 wreckage above hung one of the loosened clew-lines. 
 The end of it reached down to the cross-trees. 
 Reaching forth, the young topman tested it, and 
 seeing it would hold, emerged from his hanging 
 nest, and swinging free for an instant, managed with 
 his monkey-like powers to lay hold of a stay and 
 reach the shrouds. There was a cheer from below, 
 as he sprang to the deck, and this time there was no 
 reprimand. 
 
 The loss of her upper sails appeared to impede 
 the speed of the frigate but little. It would not be 
 long now before the bow-chasers might be expected 
 to begin. The men were mustered on the deck. 
 Along came the stewards and the mess-men with 
 the customary grog. 
 
 The officers all this time had been busy survey- 
 
2o6 Fighting Stewart 
 
 ing the two ships. An hour ago they had been 
 pronounced to be English. 
 
 Old Renwick grumbled as he watched the men 
 pour down the half pannikin of scalding Hquor. 
 
 " Well, here's to us," chuckled a tall, red-nosed 
 sailor, emptying the stuff down his throat as if it 
 had been spring water. " Here's to us, and every 
 stick in the old ship." 
 
 " We ought to get double allowance," put in an- 
 other man just before it was his turn to take his 
 portion. " There are two of 'em to fight, which 
 makes me twice as thirsty. Here's to the best 
 thing in the world, — grog." 
 
 Quartermaster Renwick did not like to hear all 
 this, and overcome by a sudden impulse, he stepped 
 out from behind the bitts. There were two buckets 
 full of the strong-smelling drink resting on the deck. 
 With a sweep of his foot he upset them both ! A 
 howl of rage went up from all sides. One of the 
 men loosened a belaying-pin and advanced threat- 
 eningly. The old sailor stood his ground. 
 
 " Avast this 'ere swillin', lads," he said ; " there 
 shall be no Dutch courage on board this ship." 
 He folded his arms and stood looking at the angry 
 crowd. The First Lieutenant had observed the 
 whole occurrence, and immediately gave the order 
 to beat to quarters. The boy, thinking that his 
 old friend was about to be attacked, had jumped to 
 
Fighting Stewart ^ 207 
 
 his side. But his station in action was on the fore- 
 castle, where he was powder-monkey for the two 
 forward guns. 
 
 The call to quarters and the rolling of the drum 
 had stopped any trouble that might have arisen 
 owing to the quartermaster's sudden action, but the 
 men were surly, and it would have been hard for 
 him if they could have reached him unseen. 
 
 Every second now brought the Constitution closer 
 to the enemy. Never could the boy forget his sen- 
 sations as he saw the gunners bend down and aim 
 the forward gun on the larboard bow. The smoke 
 from the shot blew back through the port. The 
 gun next to it now spoke, but both balls fell short, 
 and neither of the ships replied. 
 
 They were both ably handled, and their com- 
 manders had now reached some understanding as to 
 the conduct of the action ; for when the Constitution 
 was yet a mile's distance from them they passed near 
 enough to one another to speak through the trumpet. 
 
 The beginning of an action at sea, before the 
 blood is heated by the sight of carnage and the ear 
 accustomed to the strange sounds and the indiffer- 
 ence to danger has grown over the consciousness of 
 self, is the most exciting moment. There is a sense 
 of unreality in the appearance of the enemy. If he 
 is coming bravely up to fight, there is no hatred felt 
 for him. Men grow intensely critical at such mo- 
 
2o8 Fighting Stewart 
 
 ments, strange to say. They admire their oppo- 
 nent's skill, although they are indined to smile 
 exultantly if they perceive he is making missteps. 
 Captain Stewart and his officers, grouped at the 
 side, were discussing calmly the probable designs of 
 the enemy. 
 
 " Egad ! They are hauling by the wind, and they 
 are going to wait for us," said Stewart. 
 
 " They are not going to run, at any event," ob- 
 served the First Lieutenant. "They are tidy-look- 
 ing sloops of war, sir ! " 
 
 In five minutes both the English vessels had 
 made all sail, close-hauled by the wind, with the 
 plain intention of trying to outpoint the frigate. 
 
 " No, you don't, my friends," remarked Stewart 
 to himself " Not if I know my ship." 
 
 The crew, who were watching the oncomers, shared 
 his sentiment, for they knew that the Constitution 
 was not to be beaten on that point of sailing ; and 
 the strangers soon noticed this, also, for they short- 
 ened sail and formed on a line at about half a cable's 
 length apart. Not a shot had been fired since the 
 two bow guns had given challenge, but now the time 
 had come, the huge flag of the Constitution went up to 
 the peak, and in answer both ships hoisted Enghsh 
 ensigns. Scarce three hundred yards now separated 
 the antagonists. The English ships had started 
 cheering. It was the usual custom of the Anglo- 
 
Fighting Stewart 209 
 
 Saxon to go into battle that way. Quartermaster 
 Renwick called for three cheers from the Constitu- 
 tion s men, but they had not forgotten, at least some 
 of them, his upsetting of the grog. His unpopu- 
 larity at that present moment was evident, for few 
 answered the call, and thus silently the men at the 
 guns waited for the word to fire. 
 
 The boy was half-way down the companion 
 ladder when it came. There was a great jar the 
 whole vessel's length. A deafening explosion, and 
 the fight was on ! 
 
 For fifteen minutes it was hammer and tongs. 
 Broadside after broadside was exchanged, and then 
 it was noticed that the English had begun to slacken 
 their return ; and now they suddenly were silent. A 
 strange phenomenon here took place. As all the 
 combatants were close-hauled and the wind was light, 
 a great bank of opaque sulphurous smoke had 
 gathered all about them. The Constitution ceased 
 firing, also ; for although the enemy was within two 
 hundred yards' distance, not a sight of either ship 
 could be seen. They were blotted out ; their condi- 
 tion and their exact positions were unknown. Not 
 a gun was fired for three minutes, and then the 
 smoke cleared away. 
 
 " Here they are ! " cried Stewart, and his exclama- 
 tion was drowned with a broadside, for the gunners 
 of the Constitution had discovered that the headmost 
 
2IO Fighting Stewart 
 
 ship was just abreast of them and but a hundred 
 feet away. The sternmost was luffing up with the 
 intention of reaching the Constitution s quarter. The 
 smoke from the big guns had hidden everything 
 again, but orders were now coming fast from the 
 quarter-deck. Men were hastening aloft, and others 
 were tailing on to the braces, tacks, and sheets. The 
 main and mizzen top-sails were braced aback against 
 the mast, and slowly the Constitution began to move 
 stern foremost through the water. It was as if nowa- 
 days the order had come to reverse the engines at 
 full speed. All the sailors saw the importance of 
 this act. They were cheering now, and they had 
 good right to do so. Instead of finding herself on 
 the larboard side and in good position for raking, 
 the English vessel was in a very bad position. It 
 must have astonished her commander to find himself 
 so unexpectedly confronted, but he was directly be- 
 neath the Constitution s guns again. There was no 
 help for it. He was forced to receive her fire. 
 The big sloop of war, which had been deserted so 
 unceremoniously, kept on making a great hubbub, 
 aiming at the place where she supposed the Yankee 
 frigate yet to be. 
 
 To repeat all the details of the rest of the strug- 
 gle would be but to recount a tale filled with the 
 detailed working of a ship and nautical expressions, 
 but it is safe to state that never was a vessel better 
 
Fighting Stewart 211 
 
 handled, and never did a captain win a title more 
 honestly than did Charles Stewart the sobriquet 
 of " Fighting Stewart." 
 
 It was ten minutes of seven in the evening 
 when the first English vessel struck her flag. She 
 proved to be His Britannic Majesty's sloop of war 
 Cyane^ under the command of Captain Gordon Fal- 
 con, a gallant oflicer, and one who had earned distinc- 
 tion in the service. His ship, that he had fought 
 bravely, mounted thirty-four guns. He was so 
 overcome with emotion at having to surrender, that 
 he could scarcely return Captain Stewart's greeting 
 when he came on board, for he had entered the 
 fight declaring that he was going to receive the 
 Yankee's sword. As soon as he had placed a prize 
 crew on board the Cyane^ Stewart headed the Consti- 
 tution for the other sloop of war, who was doing her 
 best to get away. So fast did he overhaul her that 
 the Levant — for that was her name — turned back 
 to meet her big opponent, and bravely prepared to 
 fight it out. But it was no use, and after some 
 firing and manoeuvring Captain George Douglass 
 struck his colors, as his friend Falcon had been 
 forced to do some time earlier. 
 
 But what of old Renwick and the boy ? They 
 lay below in the cockpit — the old man with a 
 shattered leg and the hero of the royal yard with a 
 bad splinter wound across his chest. Men forget 
 
212 Fighting Stewart 
 
 their wounds in moments of great mental excite- 
 ment ; since he had been brought below, the 
 quartermaster had been following every movement 
 of the ship as if he had been on deck. 
 
 " We are luffing up/' he would say. " Ah ! 
 there we go, we headed her that time ! By tar, my 
 hearties, we will win the day ! Hark to 'em ! Hear 
 'em bark ! " And so he kept it up, regardless of 
 the fact that his shattered leg was soon to be taken 
 off; and all of the thirteen wounded men there under 
 the surgeon's care listened to him, and when the 
 news came down that the first vessel had struck, 
 Renwick called for cheers, and they were given this 
 time with a will ! 
 
 Three or four days after the fight. Captain Stew- 
 art was dining in his cabin, and as usual his guests 
 were the English captains, who had not yet entirely 
 recovered from the deep chagrin incident to their 
 surrender. How it started, no one exactly knew. 
 It is not on record which of the gentlemen was at 
 fault for the beginning of the quarrel, but they were 
 fighting their battles over again in a discussion that 
 grew more heated every moment. Suddenly one 
 of the officers, jumping to his feet, accused the other 
 of being responsible for what he termed " the unfort- 
 unate conclusion of the whole affair." Hot words 
 were exchanged. Stewart, who, of course, had his 
 own opinions on the matter in question, said noth- 
 
> 
 <u 
 
 (U 
 
 o 
 
 &0 
 
Fighting Stewart 213 
 
 ing, until at last he perceived that things might be 
 going too far, and it was time for him to interfere. 
 Smiling blandly, and looking from one of the angry- 
 men to the other, he spoke as follows : — 
 
 " Gentlemen, there is only one way that I see, to 
 decide this question, — to put you both on your 
 ships again, give you back your crews, and try it 
 over.'* 
 
 This ended the argument, but the story went the 
 rounds of the ship, and one of the lieutenants in 
 writing to a brother officer described the incident in 
 those exact words. 
 
 Quartermaster Renwick survived the loss of his 
 leg, and he used to relate the story of how and 
 where he lost it to the youngsters who would gather 
 about his favorite bench fronting the Battery sea- 
 wall. 
 
 The boy recovered also, and he served his coun- 
 try until they laid him on the shelf after the Civil 
 War was over. Very nearly forty years had he 
 passed in the navy, where he grew to be a great 
 hand at yarn-spinning, and was much quoted, for he 
 linked the service back to the days of wind and sail, 
 although he had lived to see the era of steam and 
 steel. His favorite story of them all was of the old 
 Constitution and how she behaved under the com- 
 mand of " Fighting Stewart.'' 
 
TWO DUELS 
 
i 
 
TWO DUELS 
 
 OH, Bainbridge, you're going ashore with 
 us, aren't you ? " 
 At these words a young man who was 
 walking up and down the frigate's quarter-deck 
 turned quickly. He was dressed in the same uni- 
 form as the one who had just asked the question, 
 — that of a midshipman of the American navy. 
 
 " Not if you are starting at once, Raymond," he 
 replied. " I won't be off duty for a quarter of an 
 hour. Is the boat ready ? " 
 
 " Not yet — maybe you will have time — have 
 you asked for leave ? " 
 
 " I have that right enough, but I can't be in 
 two places at once. I'd Hke to go, though, if I 
 could." 
 
 " It's too bad; all the fellows were counting on 
 your coming." And Midshipman Raymond left the 
 quarter-deck, and strolled forward to the mast, 
 where five or six other middies were waiting, all 
 dressed in their best uniforms, with rows of polished 
 brass buttons, and neat little dirks swung at their 
 left hips by slender chains. They were impatient 
 
 217 
 
2i8 Two Duels 
 
 at the delay. Every one wished to be ashore, as it 
 was the intention to dine together and afterwards 
 to attend a concert at the Malta Theatre ; for 
 the Constitution was lying at anchor just off the 
 town, and not far from the walls of the heavy forti- 
 fications that make the island England's greatest 
 stronghold in the Eastern Mediterranean — second 
 in importance among her possessions only to the 
 impregnable Gibraltar. 
 
 " I hear Carlotti is going to sing to-night," ob- 
 served one of the midshipmen knowingly, inter- 
 rupting the chorus of grumblings at the slowness of 
 the shore boat in returning. "She's great," he added. 
 
 " How do you know ? " asked a short tow-headed 
 reefer ; " you never heard her." 
 
 " No, but Bainbridge has, and he told me." 
 
 " Wish Bainbridge was going with us — " 
 
 " So do we all," was the chorus to this, and just at 
 this moment the ship's bell clanged the hour, and 
 the one to whom they referred ran past them. 
 He paused at the head of the ladder. 
 
 " I'll be up in a minute ; don't you fellows go 
 without me." 
 
 With these words he jumped below, and running 
 into the steerage, he slammed open the lid of his chest 
 and shifted into his best uniform in " presto change " 
 fashion. He was just in time to hasten down the 
 ladder and leap into the boat as she shoved off from 
 
Two Duels 219 
 
 the side. There were two lieutenants going ashore, 
 and they don't wait for tardy midshipmen. 
 
 " Quick work, Joseph/' said Middy Raymond, 
 laying his hand on Bainbridge's knee. 
 
 " Rather," was the panted reply. " Do I look 
 shipshape ? Feels as if I'd forgotten something.'* 
 
 " All ataunto — far as I can see." 
 
 Joseph Bainbridge was a younger brother of 
 Commodore William Bainbridge, and like him he 
 had gifts of popularity. He possessed a magnetic 
 personality that attracted to him the notice of both 
 officers and men, and a bold, adventurous spirit that 
 won their admiration. Added to this was the fact 
 that he was tall and strong, and conceded to be the 
 handsomest young officer in the service. 
 
 When the boat drew up at the pier, the middies 
 flocked off by themselves, and the two young lieu- 
 tenants fell behind. 
 
 "You didn't hear the lecture, — the lecture the 
 old man gave us while you were below, Bainbridge," 
 said Midshipman Raymond. " Phew ! but he piled 
 it on thick in telling us how to behave ourselves. 
 Any one might think that we were going ashore to 
 offer challenges right and left to all the British army." 
 
 " What do you mean ? " asked Bainbridge, slip- 
 ping his arm through his friend's, and looking down 
 at him, for he stood head and shoulders above the 
 other youngsters. 
 
220 Two Duels 
 
 " Why, just this," was the response. " The old 
 man " (in this manner was the Commodore referred 
 to) "says that there are plenty of fire-eating, snap- 
 shooting ' eight-paces ' chaps, just longing for a 
 chance to pick a quarrel with a Yankee officer ; and 
 as he told us it took two to make trouble, he said 
 he would hold us responsible if there was any row. 
 We will have to mind our tacks and sheets. He 
 expects us to be blind to all ugly looks, and deaf to 
 all remarks, I suppose. Besides, we are all under 
 promise to return by the last boat, that leaves at 
 eleven o*clock." 
 
 "Well," observed the tall midshipman, laugh- 
 ing, " there seems to be no great hardship in that ; 
 we have some hours before us. Let's turn in here 
 and get our grub — then, ho for the theatre ! " 
 
 The crowd of laughing young fellows entered a 
 cafe, and seated themselves quietly at a corner table. 
 But their entrance had been observed. A group of 
 officers, in scarlet coats and gilt braid and shoulder 
 knots, gazed insolently at them. 
 
 " Young Yankee puppies," observed one, turning 
 to his companions. 
 
 " Rather airy, — I should say breezy," was the 
 rejoinder. 
 
 Before long, the fun grew fast and furious at the 
 middies' table ; laughter and even the snatch of a 
 song broke from them. Pretty soon one of the 
 
Two Duels 221 
 
 English officers arose — the one who had first 
 noticed their presence. He walked over to their 
 table, and rapped on the edge with the hilt of his 
 sword. 
 
 " Less noise, less noise here ! " he said. 
 
 Bainbridge was about to spring to his feet, when 
 Raymond restrained him. " Have a care," he said 
 softly. 
 
 No one noticed the Englishman's presence, and 
 slightly abashed he returned to his seat. But he 
 covered his confusion with an air of bravado. 
 "Taught 'em a lesson," he sniggered. 
 
 In a few minutes the whole party had adjourned 
 to the play-house. 
 
 Carlotti sang her best, every one was enjoying 
 the music and anxious for more, when the curtain fell 
 on the first act. The Constitution lads applauded so 
 long that one might have thought they wished to 
 have the whole thing over again, which they would 
 have liked exceedingly. But seeing at last that the 
 prima donna would not respond, — she had been 
 out five times, — the lads arose and strutted into the 
 lobby in a body. 
 
 " There's that officious Britisher," said Bainbridge, 
 nodding his head toward a group of scarlet coats 
 that stood blocking up a doorway. 
 
 " Oh, I just heard about him," put in one of the 
 smallest reefers. " He's Tyrone Tyler, the dead shot, 
 
222 Two Duels 
 
 — I overheard some one pointing him out. He's 
 killed eleven men, they say." 
 
 The officer in question was tall and exceedingly 
 slender, and he might have been called good-looking 
 if it were not for the insolent eyes, the leering 
 mouth, and arrogant chin that made him so con- 
 spicuous. He made some remark that caused the 
 others to laugh as he put up his eyeglass and stared 
 into the faces of the Yankee middies. Some reddened 
 and dropped their glances, but Bainbridge returned 
 the stare with interest. The Englishman frowned 
 and let his glass fall from his eye. 
 
 " Care for cub-hunting, Twombl^ ? " he inquired 
 of a red-faced man at his elbow. " Here's a chance 
 for you ! " 
 
 The midshipmen heard this, but said nothing, 
 and soon they were all lost in the theatre crowd. 
 
 During the next intermission all kept their seats 
 but Raymond and Bainbridge, who again strolled 
 out. The taller lad, who looked some years older 
 than his age, which was but nineteen, attracted some 
 attention ; many looks of admiration were thrown at 
 him as he passed through the lobby. Suddenly he 
 collided with somebody, who pushed him off. 
 
 " Beg pardon," said Bainbridge, making way. 
 
 There was no reply, and the lad's handsome brows 
 contracted as he saw the evil face of Captain Tyrone 
 Tyler smiling sneeringly at him. In the course of 
 
Two Duels 223 
 
 a few minutes they met again, and once more came 
 together. 
 
 " Beg pardon, sir." 
 
 The words had a peculiar intonation this time. 
 They were spoken in the tone of voice one uses 
 when compelled to move something that may dis- 
 turb another. Bainbridge lifted the infantry captain 
 past with a firm grasp on both his elbows. He 
 moved him as easily as one might lift a lashed ham- 
 mock to one side. 
 
 " Beg pardon, sir," said he again. 
 
 The officer grew livid, and had it not been that 
 some one grasped his arm, he would have struck 
 the midshipman across the face. But Bainbridge 
 and Raymond moved quickly away. 
 
 As they turned to leave the hall after the per- 
 formance was over the word was brought that Tyler 
 and three others were waiting at the entrance. 
 After a consultation it was agreed that it would be 
 best to remain, and avoid a meeting if possible. So 
 talking in low voices, the midshipmen stayed on 
 until warned by the dimming lights that the place 
 was being closed. At last a plan was settled on. 
 Bainbridge, who was eager to go out first, was per- 
 suaded to remain with Raymond, and follow shortly 
 after the others had left. They singled out, and 
 when the last two stepped past the door, Tyler was 
 still waiting. 
 
224 Two Duels 
 
 " Now for the training," said he, stepping for- 
 ward. As he spoke he put one elbow in Bainbridge's 
 face, and with the other grasped for his collar. 
 
 But he reckoned wrongly. The middy ducked 
 quickly and picked up his cap that had been pushed 
 off by the blow. Then he straightened himself. 
 
 " You are a cowardly bully,*' he said calmly. 
 " But I understand you. My card, sir ; I am at 
 your service." 
 
 As he spoke, he extended a bit of engraved paste- 
 board. Captain Tyler took it, handed it to one of 
 his friends, and gave his name, adding : — 
 
 " I trust that you will meet me on the beach 
 under the west fort to-morrow morning at nine 
 o'clock." 
 
 " Can you make it earlier ? " 
 
 " Certainly ; at eight, then." 
 
 The Englishman laughed as he moved off with 
 his companions. 
 
 " Be on hand, my young monkey jacket; I should 
 hate to be turned out so early for nothing." 
 
 " Never fear," was Bainbridge's return. 
 
 " Oh, Joseph, what have you done ? " wailed little 
 Raymond, suddenly. " They will never let you off 
 the ship, and we've broken orders, and are in a 
 frightful mess." 
 
 " I'm not going on board again, Sammy ; I'm to 
 meet that bully, and I will do it. It's either dis- 
 
«**I observed it,' said the Lieutenant." 
 
Two Duels 225 
 
 grace or death, and Tm reckless now. But run along, 
 you ; leave me to myself." 
 
 " I shall stay if you do," repHed Raymond, stoutly. 
 " It will never be said that — " 
 
 " Come, young gentlemen, 'tis about time you 
 were making for the boat. Commodore Preble's 
 orders were very strict ; don't forget them." 
 
 The speaker was a tall, graceful young man, 
 wrapped in a long watch-cloak. It was Stephen 
 Decatur, the First Lieutenant, and the idol of the 
 ship. He descended the few steps from the en- 
 trance to the lobby, and continued as he acknow- 
 ledged the midshipmen's salute : — 
 
 "Come, let's all be moving — stir your stumps 
 now, Mr. Raymond." 
 
 As they reached the archway of the pier, Bain- 
 bridge held back. 
 
 " Come, Mr. Bainbridge, a word with you," said 
 Decatur, taking the lad kindly by the arm. He was 
 but fivQ or six years the senior, but his manner was 
 almost fatherly, " Have you anything to tell me ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir. I have broken orders." 
 
 " I observed it," said the Lieutenant. " Have you 
 anything else to say." 
 
 "Yes, sir; unless you insist, I'd rather stay on 
 shore to-night." 
 
 " You will return to the ship.** 
 
 "Very good, sir." 
 Q 
 
226 Two Duels 
 
 In silence the party was rowed back, and In 
 silence they climbed the side and came on deck. 
 
 Then the First Lieutenant spoke. " Mr. Bain- 
 bridge, wait on deck here until my return." 
 
 " What's up, Raymond ? " asked the lads as soon 
 as they had gone below to the steerage where they 
 swung their hammocks. " Did Bainbridge have a 
 row, after all ? What's going to happen ? " 
 
 " Don't ask me," was the reply ; " you know as 
 much as I do." Raymond concluded that it was 
 best to keep mum on the subject, and with this he 
 tumbled into his hammock. 
 
 Bainbridge waited up on deck for half an hour. 
 He had not the least idea what was going to be 
 done with him. But he was grieving bitterly. If 
 he did not meet the Englishman, he was disgraced, — 
 his name was known, " he owed it to the honor of 
 the service " ; for that was the way the code was 
 established. But how could he have disobeyed the 
 order of Decatur to proceed on board ship ? That 
 would have been impossible, also. Yet, strange to 
 say, he did not regret his action, and he had not 
 once felt a thrill of fear. True, Tyler was a noted 
 man-killer, but that did not worry Bainbridge in the 
 least. He may have been a fatalist, but that was 
 not the only reason : he knew without bragging that 
 he was a good shot. 
 
 Suddenly he heard some one approaching. He 
 
 1 
 
Two Duels 227 
 
 lifted his despondent head out of his hands. Was 
 he going to be called into the cabin to take a rating 
 from the fiery tongue of the Commodore. Could 
 he stand that! 
 
 " Mr. Bainbridge." 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 " Commodore Preble's orders are for me to go 
 on shore to-morrow at seven thirty in the morning. 
 By the way, you will go with me — " 
 
 " Oh, thank you, sir," interrupted the midship- 
 man, his voice breaking ; " thank you." 
 
 " I shall attend to everything, if you will allow 
 me the honor." 
 
 Bainbridge put out his hand ; Decatur took It 
 without a word. 
 
 The next morning, on a narrow stretch of beach, 
 there was a curious little gathering, or, better, two 
 separate groups : one composed of five men talking 
 together, and at a few paces' distance two silent 
 figures. 
 
 The five men were conversing in whispers. 
 
 " Nevertheless, I intend doing it," said the tall 
 slender man who was in the centre. " Do you see 
 the button at his throat ? A Yankee more or less 
 does not count." 
 
 " Are you ready, gentlemen ? " 
 
 The others stepped back, and there stood two 
 tall figures fronting one another : each held a long 
 
228 Two Duels 
 
 heavy pistol in the right hand. The faces of the 
 men were pale, but the midshipman was just as cool 
 as his experienced opponent ; a determined gleam 
 was in his light blue eyes. 
 
 The officer who had last spoken began counting, 
 and then there came a flash and one report. The 
 pistols had been discharged at the same instant. 
 
 Bainbridge reeled slightly, and passed his hand 
 about his throat. 
 
 " I am all right," he said calmly. 
 
 " Thank God ! Then let's be off" was Decatur's 
 sole return. 
 
 Lying on the sand was Tyler " the dead shot," 
 the surgeon fumbling at his chest. Decatur and the 
 midshipman raised their hats as they passed by. 
 
 So much for the first duel ; now for the sequel. 
 In this modern day we can scarcely imagine the 
 complaisant attitude assumed by press and public 
 towards such happenings as this. Were they less 
 careful of human life, or did they view matters in 
 such a different light that their perceptions were 
 altogether blunted? No, not that exactly; many 
 men fought duels who did not believe in the resort 
 to arms at all. They were compelled to by the 
 deluded custom of the times. Few men -were ^rave 
 enough to refuse a challenge. But one thing, a 
 man who was known to have figured on the field of 
 
Two Duels 229 
 
 honor, sooner or later found himself there again, 
 and generally it was once too often. 
 
 The second duel to be told about here, has a slight 
 connection with the first, and yet belongs more prop- 
 erly to history. Commodore William Bainbridge, 
 who was one of Decatur's most intimate friends, 
 was grateful indeed for the manner in which he had 
 stood by his brother, and when Decatur stood in 
 need of some one to do the same thing by him, it 
 was but natural that he should turn to Bainbridge. 
 
 But now to get back to history : Stephen Decatur 
 had, against his will, been one of the members of the 
 court martial that had sentenced Commodore Bar- 
 ron to suspension from the navy for Rvq years be- 
 cause of the affair of the Chesapeake and the Leopard. 
 Barron had gone abroad, and was in England when 
 the War of 1812 was declared. His period of sus- 
 pension ended shortly after the declaration, but he 
 did not return to America until over a year had 
 elapsed ; and then presenting himself without ex- 
 planation, he demanded the command of an impor- 
 tant ship. Decatur used every effort to prevent his 
 securing active employment, taking the ground, as 
 he explained in a letter written to Barron himself, 
 that the latter's conduct " had been such as to for- 
 ever bar readmission into the service." He disclaimed 
 any feeling of personal enmity, but was firm in his 
 opposition. For years this was the state of affairs ; 
 
230 Two Duels 
 
 the correspondence between Barron and Decatur 
 grew more bitter and ironical, and at last it culmi- 
 nated thus : — 
 
 Writes Barron on the sixteenth of January, 1820, 
 dated Norfolk: — 
 
 Sir : Your letter of the 29th ultimo, I have received. 
 In it you say that you have now to inform me that you 
 shall pay no further attention to any communications that 
 I may make to you, other than a direct call to the field ; 
 in answer to which I have only to reply that whenever you 
 will consent to meet me on fair and equal grounds, that is, 
 such as two honorable men may consider just and proper, 
 you are at liberty to view this as that call. The whole 
 tenor of your conduct to me justifies this course of pro- 
 ceeding on my part. As for your charges and remarks, 
 I regard them not, particularly your sympathy. You know 
 no such feeling. I cannot be suspected of making the 
 attempt to excite it. 
 
 I am, sir, yours, etc., 
 
 James Barron. 
 
 To this, Decatur replied as follows : — 
 
 Washington, Jan. 24, 1820. 
 
 Sir : I have received your communication of the 
 1 6th, and am at a loss to know what your intention is. 
 If you intend it as a challenge, I accept it, and refer you to 
 my friend, Commodore Bainbridge, who is fully authorized 
 to make any arrangements he pleases as regards weapons, 
 mode, or distance. Your obedient servant, 
 
 Stephen Decatur. 
 
Two Duels 231 
 
 And so the fatal meeting was arranged. Cap- 
 tain Elliot, Barron's representative, and Bainbridge 
 chose Bladensburg, a beautiful spot within driving 
 distance of the Capitol, as the duelling ground. 
 Letters describing contemporary events give such 
 vivid pictures of past scenes, that it is well to quote 
 entire the letter of Samuel Hambleton, one of 
 Decatur's closest friends, who was present. This 
 letter was written shortly after the meeting had 
 taken place. 
 
 Washington, March 22, 1820. 
 
 . . . This morning, agreeably to his request, I attended 
 Commodore Bainbridge in a carriage to the Capitol hill, 
 where I ordered breakfast at Beale's hotel for three persons. 
 At the moment it was ready, Commodore Decatur, having 
 walked from his own house, arrived and partook of it with us. 
 As soon as it was over he proceeded in our carriage tow- 
 ards Bladensburg. At breakfast he mentioned that he had 
 a paper with him that he wished to sign (meaning his will), 
 but that it required three witnesses, and as it would not do to 
 call in any third person for that purpose he would defer it 
 until we arrived at the ground. He was quite cheerful, and 
 did not appear to have any desire to take the life of his an- 
 tagonist; indeed, he declared he would be very sorry to do 
 so. On arriving at the valley half a mile short of Bladens- 
 burg we halted and found Captain Elliot standing in the road 
 on the brow of the hill beyond us. Commodore Bain- 
 bridge and myself walked up and gave him the necessary 
 
232 Two Duels 
 
 information, when he returned to the village. In a short 
 time Commodore Barron, Captain Elliot, his second, and 
 Mr. Lattimer arrived on the ground, which was measured 
 (eight long strides) and marked by Commodore Bainbridge 
 nearly north and south, and the seconds proceeded to load. 
 Commodore Bainbridge won the choice of stands, and his 
 friend chose that to the north, being a few inches lower 
 than the other. 
 
 On taking their stands. Commodore Bainbridge told 
 them to observe that he should give the words quick — 
 " Present ; one, two, three," and they were not, at their 
 peril, to fire before the word " one " nor after the word 
 " three " was pronounced. Commodore Barron asked 
 him if he had any objections to pronouncing the words as 
 he intended to give them. He said he had not, and did so. 
 
 Commodore Barron, about this moment, observed to his 
 antagonist that he hoped, on meeting in another world, 
 they would be better friends than they had been in this ; 
 to which Commodore Decatur replied, " I have never 
 been your enemy, sir." Nothing further passed between 
 them previous to the firing. Soon after Commodore 
 Bainbridge cautioned them to be ready, crossed over to the 
 left of his friend, and gave the words of command precisely 
 as before ; and at the word " two " they both fired so 
 nearly together that but one report was heard. 
 
 They both fell nearly at the same instant. Commo- 
 dore Decatur was raised and supported a short distance, 
 and sank down near to where Commodore Barron lay ; 
 and both appeared to think themselves mortally wounded. 
 Commodore Barron declared that everything had been 
 
Two Duels 233 
 
 conducted In the most honorable manner, and told Com- 
 modore Decatur that he forgave him from the bottom of 
 his heart. Soon after this, a number of gentlemen coming 
 up, I went after our carriage and assisted in getting him 
 into it ; where, leaving him under the care of several of his 
 intimate friends. Commodore Bainbridge and myself left 
 the grounds, and, as before agreed to, embarked on board 
 the tender of the Columbus at the Navy Yard. It is due to 
 Commodore Bainbridge to observe that he expressed his 
 determination to lessen the danger to each by giving the 
 words quick, with a hope that both might miss and that then 
 their quarrel might be amicably settled. 
 
 Samuel Hambleton. 
 
 Commodore Bainbridge told of hearing the fol- 
 lowing conversation as Decatur and Barron lay 
 beside each other bleeding on the ground. 
 
 "Barron," said the Commodore, "we both, I 
 believe, are about to appear before our God. I am 
 going to ask you one question. Answer it if you feel 
 inclined. . . . Why did you not return to America 
 upon the outbreak of hostilities with England ? " 
 
 Barron was suffering great agony, but he turned 
 and spoke clearly in a low tone. " Decatur, I will 
 tell you what I expected never to tell a living man. 
 I was in an English prison for debt ! " 
 
 " Ah, Barron," returned Decatur, " had I known 
 that, had any one of your brother-officers known 
 it, the purse of the service would have been at 
 
234 Two Duels 
 
 your disposal, and you and I would not have been 
 lying here to-day." 
 
 ' " Had I known you felt thus," answered Barron, 
 " we would have no cause to be here.'* 
 
 Sad words these, sad unfortunate words, because 
 they came too late. Poor Decatur ! he died at half 
 past ten o'clock that night. When he was struck 
 by the ball which lodged in his abdomen, he is said 
 to have spoken thus, " I am hurt mortally, and wish 
 that I had fallen in defence of my country." Yes, 
 that was his great sorrow ; he saw the uselessness of 
 
 it all. 
 
 So much for the code duello, so much for false 
 pride and extreme ideas of what should touch one's 
 honor. Can we think that such things really hap- 
 pened, and so short a time ago ! Have we not 
 reason to rejoice that it is all over ? That people 
 no longer start at the sound of shots in shady lanes, 
 run across tragedies on lawns or in tavern courtyards ? 
 There is just another word or so to add that points 
 a stronger moral and rounds up the chapter: 
 Joseph Bainbridge fell also in a duel. He, alas, 
 had many of them ; but like all the rest, there was a 
 last one. The pubUc mourned many times because 
 good men were lost for causes in which the nation 
 had no interest and that could have been passed by 
 with a wave of the hand. A sad history that of " the 
 field of honor." 
 
DARTMOOR 
 
DARTMOOR 
 
 THE word "Dartmoor" means little to the 
 ear of the American of this generation, for 
 it is the name of a town on the bleak open 
 stretches back from the sea in Devonshire. But dur- 
 ing our war with England, and for a long time after- 
 ward, the word " Dartmoor " brought up much the 
 same kind of recollections that " Andersonville " or 
 " Libby " does to-day. It was the prison where Eng- 
 land kept in confinement those unfortunates that 
 the fate of war had thrown upon her hands. It 
 was a safe seclusion, indeed, and for the better ex- 
 planation of the story that is to be told here, it 
 might be well worth the while to tell in a few words 
 what manner of place it was. Surrounding an en- 
 closure, circular in shape, and containing about eight 
 acres, was a high stone wall, where the sentries pa- 
 trolled their beats, where they could look down into 
 the courtyards of the gloomy prison buildings 
 some twenty feet below them. The enclosure was 
 divided into three partitions, by walls that crossed 
 the main space diagonally, and through which there 
 were grated gateways leading from one department 
 
 '^11 
 
23 8 Dartmoor 
 
 to the other. The buildings, seven in number, 
 radiated from a common point like wheel spokes. 
 They were built of brick, with small iron-barred 
 windows, and in the entrance archway, leading from 
 one yard to another (each building had a separate 
 yard), there were always stationed after sunset two 
 armed sentries with primed muskets. While the 
 occupants of any one building had access to all parts 
 of it and to the others during the daytime, it was 
 difficult, indeed, to make a journey, or pay a visit, 
 after nightfall. 
 
 Here were confined six thousand prisoners, and 
 here were suffered hardships without number. There 
 would be scarcely space to tell of the prison life, but 
 some there were there who had been immured so 
 long that they had almost forgotten that they had 
 lived anywhere else. They had become so resigned 
 to the lot of a prisoner of war, that they had 
 begun to doubt if they should ever see their own 
 beautiful country again. From the upper windows 
 of the prisons, the view above the walls was noth- 
 ing but a stretch of bleak, rolling country, treeless 
 and barren — the Dartmoor heaths. The inmates 
 had formed a government among themselves ; as 
 was done in most military prisons, many worked at ] 
 their trades, as well as they could ; they had mar- 
 kets in which they sold their wares ; they had the- 
 atrical companies, which served to keep up their 
 
Dartmoor 239 
 
 spirits, and lighten the dreary hours ; but there was 
 one thought in the hearts of all : the day when they 
 should receive their liberty. Many were never to 
 see that day. 
 
 There was a young sailor confined in the prison 
 building known as No. 5. His strong constitution 
 and his youth had kept him in a fair state of health 
 for one who had been so long in close confinement, 
 for he had been captured in a privateer in the first 
 year of the war. Many times had he thought of 
 his far-away home on the hills above the old town 
 of Salem. He was popular with his fellow-prisoners, 
 and had been a leader among them in their sports 
 and pastimes. George Abbott was his name. He 
 was but six and twenty years of age, and yet he had 
 followed the sea for over twelve. When he had 
 been captured there had been taken with him a 
 young lad of but eighteen, who had run away from 
 a comfortable home and a loving family, to enhst 
 on board the privateer, but he was not of the tough 
 fibre of which the sailor should be made, and since 
 his arrival in prison he had been gradually succumb- 
 ing to the effects of his long imprisonment. Between 
 Abbott and this young man there had grown up a 
 deep affection. The sailor had shielded the lands- 
 man from much of the rough treatment of the fore- 
 castle while on board ship, and now that they were 
 prisoners together, they had been constant compan- 
 
24O Dartmoor 
 
 ions ; but it was plain to see that the younger of the 
 two would not last long enough to see the dawn of 
 liberty unless it came quickly. He had grown so 
 weak that by the middle of February, 181 5, it was 
 expected by all that every day he would be taken 
 from the prison buildings and sent to the Depot 
 Hospital, from which, alas, few ever returned. But 
 Abbott nursed him carefully, and watched over him 
 with all the care of an elder brother, trying to be 
 always cheerful. 
 
 March came, and with it the gloomy mists that 
 rose from all around settled down on the gloomy 
 heaths, shrouding the prison buildings in impene- 
 trable clouds. It was hard to keep either dry or 
 warm. Those fortunates who owned little stoves 
 would huddle around their handful of fire, but the 
 prisons being unheated and unprovided with chim- 
 neys, the stoves were very small, their little pipes 
 being led out of the windows. 
 
 Lying in a hammock that had been swung low, 
 so that its occupant almost lay upon the floor, 
 was the young landsman. He stretched out his 
 hand toward the roughly made brazier of sheet iron, 
 and so thin were they that they looked more like 
 claws than the fingers of a human being. 
 
 " Lord help us and deliver us," he murmured. 
 
 " Hallo, Harvey," cried a voice, breaking in upon 
 his prayer. "I didn't expect to be so long. We've ^ 
 
Dartmoor 241 
 
 waited a long time, but here it is, my lad, and now 
 let's begin. Shall I pitch in first ? I ain't much of 
 a reader." 
 
 He held aloft in his hand a copy of a smudgy, 
 dog-eared book, smirched and torn by constant 
 handling. 
 
 "We've been waiting our turn on this for three 
 weeks, now. Sam Jordan, he promised to get it 
 for me though, and so he did." 
 
 " What's the name ? " inquired the pinched- 
 faced lad in the hammock. 
 
 " It's R-a-s-s-e-1-a-s," was the response. " I 
 dunno how to pronounce it, but they say as how 
 it's good reading. Say the word, and I'll fire 
 away." 
 
 He flung himself down on the floor and opened 
 the pages. It was storming hard outside, and the 
 rain beat against the roof and poured from the 
 gutters down on the stone courtyard. There was 
 just enough light to see the print, if one was not 
 afraid of ruining one's eyes, and Abbott began : — 
 
 " ' Ye who listen with credulity to the whispers of 
 fancy and pursue ' — " He had read as far as the 
 first half-page, when suddenly the sick man put out 
 his hand and touched him on the shoulder. 
 
 " Listen," he said hoarsely, "what's that going on 
 below ? " 
 
 Some one on the floor beneath had given a loud 
 
242 Dartmoor 
 
 staccato whoop. It was followed by another, and 
 then by an increasing murmur of voices. The 
 sailor had risen to his knees and dropped the book. 
 
 " Some skylarking or tomfoolery/* he said ; " or 
 perhaps it's the Rough Alleys," he added. 
 
 The " Rough Alleys " was the name given to the 
 gangs of hard customers and those of the lower 
 order of prisoners who had been compelled by their 
 more circumspecting and better behaved compan- 
 ions to mess by themselves, and to generally toe 
 the mark, as much as possible. Occasionally, how- 
 ever, they would break out in some sort of raid or 
 riot that would require suppressing, and it was to 
 this habit of theirs that Abbott referred. But this 
 time he was mistaken. 
 
 " Listen to that ! " he cried, all at once springing 
 to an erect position. A roaring, rousing cheer came 
 up from below, and then from the other buildings 
 they heard it echoed. 
 
 The invalid arose from his hammock. 
 
 " Stay here," cried Abbott ; " I'll fetch the news 
 to you." 
 
 He hastened to the head of the stone stairway. 
 A breathless man dressed in fantastic rags met him 
 half-way up. 
 
 " What's the row, Simeon ? " asked Abbott, in 
 excitement. 
 
 " Heard the news, messmate ? " the man cried in 
 
Dartmoor 243 
 
 answer. "Heard the news ? There's peace between 
 America and England ! '* 
 
 There came a strange sound from the head of the 
 stairs. The young prisoner had heard the words, 
 and Abbott was just in time to catch him in his 
 arms as he plunged forward senseless. 
 
 What had these men expected? These prisoners 
 who had danced and sung and gone wild with 
 delight and joy at the message that had been brought 
 to them that bleak March day ? Why, liberty at 
 once. They were going to return to their homes. 
 It was freedom! And did they get it? Listen! 
 There is more to tell. Here begins the story : — 
 
 Of course it was not to be supposed that the Brit- 
 ish government should at once set these prisoners 
 free, as one might set free birds from a cage by open- 
 ing the door and allowing them to fly. It was a 
 grave question what was to be done with them, and 
 there is no use denying the fact that the United 
 States, or at least its representative in England, was 
 in a great measure responsible for what subsequently 
 occurred. Ten days went by, and there was nothing 
 done. In that space of time the men's spirits sank 
 to zero. Had their country deserted them ? Had 
 their fellow-citizens forgotten them ? It was past 
 believing that such things could be. And it was 
 just at this time that there was most complaint, 
 
244 Dartmoor 
 
 arising from the quality of the bread and the insuf- 
 ficiency of the food suppHed by the prison authori- 
 ties. The Governor of the Depot, as it was called 
 by the English, was a Captain Shortland, a man so 
 well hated and despised by those under him that if 
 murderous looks had the power to kill, he would 
 long ago have been under the sod. Many of the 
 prisoners, as they had caught glimpses of him, had 
 longed to sink their fingers into his throat, and now 
 they hated him worse than ever before. In the 
 beginning of the second week information was sent 
 the rounds of the prison, that the delay was occa- 
 sioned by the difficulty that the representative of the 
 United States government found in obtaining cartels, 
 or vessels, to bring the released ones back to their 
 own again. But the delay was bitter. 
 
 The poor sick boy had rallied a little during the 
 first days after the arrival of the news of peace. 
 Probably he supposed that he would be released at 
 once, but as the days dragged on, and there were no 
 signs of any change in their condition, he sank 
 again into the unfortunate path of the men who 
 slowly died because they had no hope. 
 
 From a condition of joyousness, the majority of 
 the prisoners had relapsed into sullen anger — anger 
 at their own country, and an increased hatred for 
 the red coats who guarded them. Among so many 
 prisoners of all classes there were, of course, men of 
 
Dartmoor 245 
 
 all kinds and character : there were the Ignorant and 
 degraded, and those who could well lay claim to 
 education and enlightenment. Harvey Rich, who 
 was now so weak that he could scarcely totter from 
 his hammock to the head of the stairway, had been 
 prepared to enter Harvard College, when he had 
 caught the fever of adventure and had run away to 
 sea. At the request of the inmates of Prison No. 5, 
 
 he had drawn up a letter addressed to Mr. B. 
 
 (the American agent), requesting him to make all 
 haste ; and, at least, if he could do no more, to secure 
 to them an additional supply of provisions, or make 
 a monthly allowance of some kind to save the men 
 from actual starvation. Anxiously was an answer 
 awaited, but none came. 
 
 One day late in the month, when, for a wonder, 
 the sun was shining brightly, there was a strange 
 group gathered near one of the open windows on the 
 top floor of Prison No. 5. Propped up by blankets, 
 so as to get as much of the sunshine that came 
 in at the grated window as possible, was Harvey 
 Rich. Beside him sat the young seaman, and 
 squatted on the floor near by was a remarkable- 
 looking human being. His face was black, his 
 dark hair was shorn close to his head, and a band- 
 age made of a torn bandanna handkerchief was 
 pushed up on his forehead. At first glance, one 
 would have taken him for a negro, although his 
 
246 Dartmoor 
 
 features showed no trace of African descent. The 
 torn shirt that he wore was unloosed and open at 
 the bosom. The skin which showed through from 
 underneath was fair and white. Every now and 
 then he would give a nervous start and look back 
 over his shoulder. 
 
 " They almost had you last night, Simeon," said 
 Abbott to the half-black man. 
 
 "Yes," returned the other; "I thought my jig 
 was up, for sure ; but, confound it ! now that there 
 is peace, I don't see why they wish to hound me 
 any more. 'Tis that brute, — Shortland. He's 
 angry at his lack of success as a man-catcher. I'd 
 like to get my hands upon him, — only once, just 
 once, — that's all." 
 
 Abbott happened to look out of the window at 
 this instant. 
 
 " Egad ! " said he, " your friends are out again." 
 
 From the grated bars, a view of the neighboring 
 courtyard could be obtained. There was a sight 
 that, when seen, used to make the prisoners' blood 
 boil hotly. Three men, heavily manacled, were 
 walking with weak steps to and fro along the nar- 
 row space enclosed between the high brick walls. 
 The clanking of their chains could be heard as 
 they moved. But as if this were not enough, be- 
 side them walked three sentries, with bayonets 
 fixed. For half an hour each day, they made this 
 
Dartmoor 247 
 
 sorrowful parade. It was their only glimpse of 
 the sky and the sunlight, their one breath of fresh 
 air during the twenty-four ; and, as soon as it was 
 over, they were hustled back to their place of 
 confinement, — a dungeon known as the Cachet, 
 — where no light could penetrate, and the only air 
 that reached them was through the shaft of a dis- 
 used chimney. No wonder that their eyes blinked 
 and the tears rolled down their cheeks when they 
 emerged into God's bright sunlight. No wonder 
 that their haggard, pale faces grew each day more 
 deathlike. These men were being killed by inches. 
 For what crime ? It will be shown. The man 
 whom Abbott had addressed as " Simeon " had 
 crawled to the window and was peeping cautiously 
 out. A wild curse broke from him, as he viewed 
 the sight. 
 
 " Look at poor Whitten,'' he said ; " take note 
 of him ; he's not for long. He used to tell me 
 that he knew that he was going mad. He's that 
 already. See the poor devil jabbering." 
 
 He gave a shudder. It was only six weeks 
 since he had walked to and fro in that same court- 
 yard. There was a grated gateway at one end. It 
 came within a few feet of the archway at the top. 
 A silent crowd of prisoners were gathered there, 
 closely watching the unfortunates. Well did they 
 all remember the day when there were four of 
 
248 Dartmoor 
 
 them ; that day when, just as the prisoners turned, in 
 following the footsteps of the sentries, one of them 
 had left his companions, and, making a great leap of 
 it, had clambered up the iron gate, and, manacled 
 as he was, had thrown himself down among them. 
 
 Immediately they had carried him into one of the 
 prison houses, where they had filed and removed 
 his shackles, and had since hidden and protected 
 him at great cost and sacrifice. Many of their priv- 
 ileges had been withdrawn because they would not 
 give up this man ; they had been routed out at 
 night by files of soldiers ; they had been counted and 
 mustered, over and over again, and yet, among the 
 many thousand who knew where Simeon Hays was 
 hiding, there was not one so base as to betray him, 
 not one to point the directing finger. All honor to 
 them. Many were the disguises that Simeon had 
 been forced to assume. He had been a mulatto 
 mess-cook, speaking with the French accent of 
 Louisiana ; he had appeared as a black-faced yawp- 
 ing Sambo, who had cracked guffawing jokes on the 
 heads of the searchers ; he had passed a day and a 
 night in a coffin-like space between the floor-beams, 
 when they had him cornered, and yet they had not 
 caught him. 
 
 And for what crime were these men treated thus ^ 
 For a crime that was never proved against them. 
 They had been taken by a British frigate from a 
 
Dartmoor 249 
 
 recaptured prize, and shortly afterward the vessel 
 had been found to be on fire. These men had been 
 accused of attempting to blow up the ship and her 
 company, and when they were sent to Dartmoor 
 they were under sentence to close confinement. 
 Here was Shortland's opportunity. His cruel and 
 vindictive spirit rejoiced in carrying out the order, 
 and it chagrined him deeply that one should have 
 made his escape, and every day he attempted to lo- 
 cate his hiding-place and return him to the prison — 
 to the torture of the dreaded Cachet. 
 
 Soon the half-hour's breathing space had expired, 
 and the manacled ones had been withdrawn from 
 sight. The prisoners flocked to their buildings for 
 their midday meal. Hays, who had descended to 
 the courtyard, had made all haste to return to No. 5, 
 where he was then supposed to be hiding, although, 
 owing to his bold disposition, he oftentimes made 
 the range of the lot ; and as he passed by the open 
 space on this day, although he did not know it, 
 a turnkey recognized him, and soon those in No. 5 
 Prison were alarmed by the cry " The guard is com- 
 ing ! Lie low, lie low ! " But they found that the 
 entrances were held by a squad of armed soldiers, 
 and that this time Hays appeared certain to be 
 apprehended. But search here or there, the soldiers 
 could not find him. Many times had they stepped 
 over his hiding-place in the floor. 
 
250 
 
 Dartmoor 
 
 Captain Shortland, who had been afraid to enter the 
 building to personally conduct the search, remained 
 outside with a strong guard. The disappointed 
 officer reported at last that he was unsuccessful. 
 
 " Why don't you drive them from the building, 
 then ? " Shortland thundered. 
 
 " They are sailors, sir, and will not be driven by 
 soldiers, they say. They seem to treat the whole 
 affair as a great joke, laughing and scampering ahead 
 of my men, and paying no attention to my orders." 
 
 " Run them through then," Shortland returned. 
 '' A little cold steel will teach a serviceable lesson ! " 
 
 At this minute one of the turnkeys approached. 
 
 " I beg your pardon, sir," he said, saluting ; " if 
 you let me turn the men out in the usual manner, 
 I think they will leave quietly, but you must with- 
 draw the soldiers." 
 
 Reluctantly, Shortland gave the order, and the 
 red coats filed out, drawing up in line, behind which 
 he carefully placed himself The turnkey entered 
 the building alone. He had been an old boatswain 
 in the service, and drawing a silver whistle from his 
 pocket he piped all hands. Then in a stentorian 
 voice he ordered the prisoners into the yard. They 
 all obeyed, crowding out to the number of one 
 thousand or more, and they filed past the soldiers 
 in a compact body. One of the last to leave the 
 building was Harvey Rich. He tottered down. 
 
Dartmoor 251 
 
 alone, and joined the crowd, that stood packed in a 
 sullen body, crowded within a few paces of the hand- 
 ful of soldiers, who stood with their muskets cocked 
 and ready. Soon the officer returned from his fruit- 
 less search. 
 
 "The man cannot be found, sir," he said. 
 
 Shortland swore viciously. 
 
 "Turn them back in the building, then," he 
 roared, " and keep them there without water. That 
 will fetch them to their senses. — Back through that 
 doorway, all of you, " pointing with the heavy stick 
 which he always carried, for he was a gouty man. 
 
 But the prisoners had heard his threat, and not 
 one of them moved a step. There was a large 
 trough of clear water in the yard, to which they had 
 free access. The weather was warm and clear. 
 Suddenly one of them stepped forward. All eyes 
 turned upon him. It was George Abbott. 
 
 " We will not return there, under those condi- 
 tions," he said loudly. "We will stay here, and 
 die, first, every man Jack of us." 
 
 A movement began among the prisoners. They 
 crowded in closer in the narrow space, and a mur- 
 mur as of a subdued cheer arose among them. 
 Shortland was furious. 
 
 " Seize that man," he cried ; " seize him ! He 
 shall go without bread and water both." 
 
 No one moved. 
 
252 
 
 Dartmoor 
 
 " You cowards," he muttered. " I'll do it my- 
 self, then ; make way here ! " 
 
 He crowded through the file of soldiers and 
 approached the sailor, who was standing there 
 calmly, with folded arms. But before he had taken 
 three short steps, something most unexpected hap- 
 pened. Harvey Rich, who was standing but a few 
 feet away, stooped swiftly and picking up a loosened 
 bit of the stonework of the courtyard, he hurled it 
 full at Shortland's head. It would have killed him 
 had it struck him, but it only grazed his cheek. 
 Shortland halted and retreated hurriedly. 
 
 " Fire on them,*' he cried. " Take aim and 
 fire." 
 
 Thirty or forty muskets were brought to the 
 shoulder. But the young officer in command of 
 the detachment kept his senses. Calmly he walked 
 out to the front. He knocked up the muzzles with 
 his unsheathed sword. 
 
 " Steady," he said. " As you were." 
 
 Shortland flung an oath at him, and turning to 
 the red coats he screeched at the top of his voice : — 
 
 " Fire, you rascals, fire!" 
 
 Again the officer sprang forward and threw up 
 the points of the muskets again. 
 
 " As you were ; steady, men." 
 
 That cool authoritative tone saved a frightful scene; 
 for had the volley been delivered at such close 
 
Dartmoor 253 
 
 range, there is no telling how much slaughter had 
 followed. But mark this : there would have been 
 enough men left to strew the dismembered bodies of 
 the red coats about the yard with no other weapons 
 but their naked hands ! 
 
 Shortlandj stamping and fuming in anger, turned 
 upon his heel, and hastened out through the gate. 
 Immediately, the Lieutenant called his men to a 
 shoulder arms, and marched them after him, he 
 himself remaining until the last of the squad had 
 passed under the archway. Then he drew a thank- 
 ful breath. One or two of the sailors nearest the 
 entrance saluted him. Gravely he touched his 
 heavy bearskin hat. There was not a cheer or a 
 sound of the usual merriment that might have ac- 
 companied the discomfiture of the " lobster backs." 
 Every one had been too much impressed with the 
 seriousness of the matter in hand. Yet, there was 
 no one to chide Rich for his impetuous action. 
 Silently they all returned to the prison, and once 
 more Simeon Hays emerged from his hiding-place. 
 
 This night news was brought to the prisoners 
 that the United States government was going to 
 allow them the sum of seven shiUings sixpence per 
 head in addition to their rations given them by the 
 Crown ; also the news was circulated that the first 
 cartel would start the following week, and the 
 detachment of those going in her would be read 
 
2^4 Dartmoor 
 
 at the morning's muster. The names were to be 
 taken in alphabetical order. Again there followed 
 great rejoicing in all of the prison buildings. Men 
 whose names began with the first letters of the 
 alphabet were in high spirits. They were congratu- 
 lated and made much of; while the poor chaps 
 who were to tail off the list were correspondingly 
 depressed. A rather important occurrence took 
 place on this night, also. Simeon Hays, who, 
 as a special treat and in honor of the occasion, had 
 washed the smut from his face, had been recognized 
 and taken. Poor fellow, before his friends could 
 interfere, he had been hurried off to the confinement 
 of the Cachet. Before this news had circulated 
 through the building. Rich and Abbott had held a 
 long conversation. The former was objecting stren- 
 uously and earnestly to a proposition that the young 
 sailor had made. 
 
 " I cannot think of such a thing," he remonstrated. 
 " It would not be right — " 
 
 Abbott interrupted him, "What is the use, mess- 
 mate, of talking about right, in such a case ? " He 
 lowered his voice, " Do you think I could go out 
 and look any man square up and down if I left ye 
 here ? You've got to do it." 
 
 Rich shook his head weakly, " I can't think of 
 doing such a thing," he murmured. 
 
 "We'll stow all further conversation," was the 
 
Dartmoor 255 
 
 reply, and with that he got up and left Rich 
 alone. 
 
 The next morning, in each prison, a number of 
 names were read off until two hundred had been 
 called. Abbott's was the first read in Prison No. 5. 
 The lucky ones were told to get their dunnage 
 ready and report at the prison entrance at half past 
 ten. At the hour named, all were there. 
 
 " George Abbott," called out the officer in charge 
 of the guard-room. 
 
 " Here," answered a weak voice, and to the sur- 
 prise of those who knew him, Harvey Rich stepped 
 forward. A moment later, and he had passed forth 
 into the free air outside. 
 
 Abbott answered to his friend's name at the roll- 
 call, and thereafter passed by the name of Rich. 
 They would come to his name on the list some 
 day, he reasoned, and he knew well enough that 
 another week or so of prison life would have fin- 
 ished his young friend for good and all. 
 
 On the 3d of April, owing to the prison au- 
 thorities trying to change the fare from soft bread 
 to hardtack, there was a small riot among the pris- 
 oners, which, however, resulted in their obtaining 
 their object by breaking down the barriers and raid- 
 ing the bread-room. This did not increase Short- 
 land's good humor, nor did the taunts levelled at 
 the soldiery tend to improve the feehng existing 
 
256 Dartmoor 
 
 between them and the triumphant sailors. On 
 the sixth of the month, it was fine, clear weather, 
 and the prisoners were put in good spirits by the 
 news that Hays and his companions, the word of 
 whose condition had reached higher ears than 
 Shortland's, had been liberated and had left the 
 prison. From all the various yards there was 
 shouting and singing. The morning's " Liberty 
 Party," as the sailors called the lucky ones who 
 were to start for America, had been seen off, with 
 rousing cheers. Those left behind were trying to 
 amuse themselves by games, and horseplay. A 
 score or more were playing ball against the cross- 
 wall dividing the barrack yard of the soldiers from 
 that of No. 7. In some way, the ball, thrown 
 by a careless hand, sailed across the barrier and 
 fell almost at the feet of a sentry on the opposite 
 side. 
 
 " Hi, there, Johnny Bull ! heave it back to us," 
 requested one of the men, through the iron grating. 
 The sentry paid no attention, and soon there was a 
 clamoring crowd surrounding the opening, beseech- i| 
 ing the imperturbable red coat in all sorts of terms 
 to " Be a good fellow, and toss back the ball." p 
 
 " Just heave it over, Johnny," called one. 
 " Don't you think you're strong enough ? " | 
 
 The sentry whirled angrily. " Come and get it, 
 if you want it," he said. 
 
Dartmoor 257 
 
 " Can we ? " shouted a half-dozen voices. 
 
 " I won't touch it," the sentry responded. With 
 that, he resumed his beat, cursing the ball players 
 for " a lot of troublesome Yankee blackguards." 
 
 Half laughing, the sailors had loosened one of 
 the stones close against the wall, and by luck found 
 that the ground was soft and yielding. The mor- 
 tar, too, they were able to remove easily, and with 
 such objects as they could pick up to help them, 
 they fell to burrowing like rabbits. The sentry, 
 who did not know what was going on, or how his 
 words had been taken up, was surprised when sud- 
 denly he saw a man's head and shoulders appear at 
 the base of the wall on his side. 
 
 " The prisoners are digging out ! " he roared, fir- 
 ing his musket. 
 
 At once, the soldiers on the walls began firing, 
 forming into squads and keeping up a constant 
 shooting as long as any prisoners were in sight. 
 Those in the central yard, known as the Market, 
 not knowing the reason for the fusilade, and won- 
 dering why the alarm bell was ringing, did not re- 
 treat into their buildings ; and the first thing they 
 knew, Shortland himself appeared, entering the big 
 gate at the head of a company of soldiers with fixed 
 bayonets. They advanced at a double-quick step, 
 the prisoners were so crowded together that they 
 could not escape. Some, not seeing why they 
 
258 Dartmoor 
 
 should be charged in this fashion, stood their 
 ground. Shortland had lost all control of himself. 
 
 " Halt ! Aim ! " And before the astounded 
 victims knew what was going to happen, he had 
 given the word to fire. 
 
 A crashing volley sounded. When the smoke 
 cleared away, wounded and dying men filled the 
 yard. The rest, panic-stricken, had retreated into 
 the buildings. Seven were killed and fifty-six were 
 wounded ! Poor Abbott, who had been trying to 
 urge his comrades to hasten, was among the first to 
 fall, shot through the lungs. As no one told of 
 his exchange of names, he was buried under the 
 name he had assumed, Harvey Rich. And what 
 of the real owner of that name ? Alas, he, poor 
 fellow, also, did not live to see his home in the 
 New Hampshire hills, for he died at sea not long 
 after the cartel in which he was returning had set 
 sail. He was sent overboard in the sailor's canvas 
 shroud, and the name "George Abbott" was stricken 
 from the list of liberated ones. Few knew the truth, 
 and, perhaps, few there were who cared. 
 
The deadly volley. 
 
THE RIVAL LIFE-SAVERS 
 
THE RIVAL LIFE-SAVERS 
 
 IT was February, the year after the war. The 
 month had been cold and stormy. Frequent 
 and sudden squalls had kept everybody on 
 the alert. For over two months the United States 
 frigate Macedonian (she once had H.M.S. pre- 
 fixed to her name, by the way) had been facing the 
 bad weather, that had ranged from the Bermudas as 
 far to the eastward as the Bay of Biscay. It was 
 blowing great guns on this particular morning, and 
 blowing with that promise of thick weather that sea- 
 men learn to recognize so readily. Not two miles 
 away an English frigate was seen coming grandly 
 along as she shortened sail. 
 
 It did not require the aid of the falling barometer 
 or the sight of the thick black clouds gathering to 
 the northeast, to prove that they were in for it again. 
 
 Two men were on the Macedonian s main topgal- 
 lant yard. They were trying to spill the wind out 
 of the sail that was standing straight up above their 
 heads like a great balloon. 
 
 " Confound this business, anyhow," grunted the 
 older man. " Did you ever see such an evil-acting 
 
 261 
 
262 The Rival Life-Savers 
 
 bit of rag in your life ? " He pounded into the 
 struggling canvas, as if he could sink his blunt fin- 
 gers in the folds and obtain a better grasp. But the 
 wind had firm hold on it, and had filled it so taut 
 that it was struggling and moving like the body of 
 a living thing. 
 
 " Hold hard ! " suddenly exclaimed the younger 
 man ; " I see what's the matter." Just the second 
 before he spoke, the leech of the topgallant sail had 
 caught over the end of the yard arm. He lay out 
 on the yard to clear it, his loosened hair and his big 
 collar flapping across his face. 
 
 The elder man shouted something to him, prob- 
 ably in warning ; but the sails were making such a 
 thunder of it that his words could not be heard. 
 When the leech was cast loose, the yard gave a 
 heavy pitch, the sail gave a jump that tore it from 
 the hands of the men nearer inboard, and the young 
 fellow, whose balance was upset by the sudden move- 
 ment, lost his hold and fell back with a sudden cry 
 of fright. He caught at one of the beckets as he 
 slipped ; but it carried away, and down he went, strik- 
 ing the water within a few feet of the frigate's side. 
 
 The officer of the deck, who had been roaring up 
 angry imprecations to the " lazy lubbers " on the 
 yard to " make haste and get in that sail," jumped 
 back toward the wheel. Carrying the press of canvas 
 she was then under, the Macedonian was making not 
 
The Rival Life-Savers 26^ 
 
 far from thirteen or fourteen knots, and almost di- 
 rectly before the wind. It was no laughing matter 
 to bring her up all standing, as it were ; and though 
 men were jumping here and there, hauling and heav- 
 ing with the added strength that comes from the 
 dread cry " Man overboard ! " it was almost {ivQ 
 minutes before the great ship had headed up, and 
 during that time she had left the spot where the 
 poor lad had gone down, by a mile and more. The 
 Lieutenant, when he had given his first order, had 
 thrown overboard one of the boat*s gratings, and 
 this had been followed by one of the chicken coops 
 on the forecastle. With the squall coming down 
 upon her, and the stiff wind increasing every min- 
 ute, the Macedonian lurched up and down, almost 
 burying her nose in the roaring, tumbling sea. 
 Every one was on deck. 
 
 " *Tis no use trying to lower away a boat now, Mr. 
 Edwards," observed Captain Stewart. " 'Twould 
 be only risking the lives of brave men. Stand by 
 for a few minutes and keep sharp lookout." Al- 
 though it was blowing hard, the air was filled with a 
 thick, gray mist, and the sky now appeared to close 
 down upon the water. It was a lonely, fearful place 
 for a man to be out there in the waste of the waters, 
 fighting for his life. It was a lonely, fearful feeling 
 for men to have who must leave him there. And 
 they all knew him well ; they liked him, for he was a 
 
264 The Rival Life-Savers 
 
 cheerful, laughing lad. The old sailor who had been 
 on the yard arm with him had descended to the deck. 
 He was telling it breathlessly to the men gathered 
 about him. 
 
 " Why," said he, " I hollers to him to be care- 
 ful when the sail fetched away. It was just as if 
 the yard tried to fling him off like that." He 
 snapped his fingers at arm's length. 
 
 A man who was standing on one of the anchor- 
 flukes well forward suddenly pointed out to lee- 
 ward. The English frigate, that had been last 
 seen holding a course due west, was now, evi- 
 dently, engaged in making all snug for the coming 
 blow. She had heaved to, and was now lying with 
 topsail aback, rearing and plunging, — sometimes 
 pitching down until her hull was completely hid- 
 den in the hollows of the seas. The mist had 
 blown away. A clear, shadowless, distance-killing 
 light succeeded it. It was hard to tell whether 
 the frigate was two miles off, or whether she was 
 a little toy boat in the near perspective. But the 
 heaving water that lay between the ships, crossed 
 with its lines of white, roUing foam, was no toy 
 thing. It had an angry, spiteful look. It was 
 pitiless, and yet had lost the dread that it held 
 when hidden in the treacherous half-gloom of the 
 mist. 
 
 But why had the English frigate come up into 
 
The Rival Life-Savers 26^ 
 
 the wind ? All hands had rushed to the side. It 
 was almost as if they had forgotten the frightful 
 cause of their own delaying. Soon all was under- 
 stood. There was a tiny, white speck drifting to 
 the southward of the English vessel. It would 
 heave to the top of a great sea and disappear 
 again. 
 
 "One of their boats is out!" roared the man 
 who was standing forward, using his hands for a 
 trumpet. 
 
 The officers on the quarter-deck had now sighted 
 both the vessel and the little object far astern of 
 her. The First Lieutenant was squinting through 
 the glass and talking excitedly. 
 
 "Egad, sir, I can make it out; there's a man 
 clinging to a cask or something just to leeward 
 of that cutter. There are eight good men in 
 that boat, I can tell you," he added, " but I think 
 they have lost sight of him." 
 
 The lashings of the whaleboat, which most Amer- 
 ican vessels carried, had been cast loose some time 
 before. The Captain touched the Lieutenant on 
 the arm. 
 
 " He's as near to us as he is to them ; call away 
 the whaleboat," he said quietly ; and then, turning 
 to a young, boyish-looking officer, — one of the 
 senior midshipmen, — he said, "Mr. Emmett, you 
 will go with her." 
 
266 The Rival Life-Savers 
 
 " Clear away the bowlines ! " roared the Lieuten- 
 ant. "Man the after-braces! Be lively, lads — 
 lower away ! " 
 
 With a cheer, the men of the crew — picked 
 oarsmen and ex-whalemen they were — Nantucket 
 and New Bedford fellows — jumped to the side. 
 The long, narrow boat was lowered with half her 
 crew in her. The other half slid down the falls. 
 Mr. Edwards leaned over the side, holding his 
 hat on with both his hands. 
 
 " Mr. Emmett," cried he, " you bring back that 
 man ; don't let the Britishers beat you ! " 
 
 The midshipman looked up, touched his cap, 
 and grinned. 
 
 The man handling the steering-oar was a griz- 
 zled, hawk-nosed down-easter. Many a time had 
 he brought his boat up to the side of a whale 
 when the seas were running high, and when it 
 would have appeared that a small boat could not 
 have lived, much less fight the greatest, strongest 
 beast to be found on all this earth. 
 
 The excitement of the moment cut into the blood 
 of the oarsmen. They were going down with the 
 wind, and they fairly jumped the boat from one J 
 wave-crest to the other. But occasionally, as a 
 heavier sea would come up astern of them, they 
 would race down and lag for an instant in the 
 hollow until lifted by the next. 
 
The Rival Life-Savers 267 
 
 The tall Yankee must have been reminded of 
 the time when he raced with the other rival boats 
 in order to get fast with the harpoon first, for he 
 began encouraging in the old whaleman fashion : — 
 
 " Give way, my lads, give way ! A long, steady 
 stroke now ! Do ye love gin ? A bottle of gin 
 to the best man ! " forgetting that he was no 
 longer the first mate of the old Penobscot. " Oh, 
 pile it on while you have breath ! pile it on ! On 
 with the beef, my bullies ! " 
 
 The men, with set teeth and straining backs, 
 were catching together beautifully, despite the fact 
 that the wind threatened to twist the oars out of 
 their grasp. The little middy, sitting in the stern 
 sheets, had folded his arms ; but he was swinging 
 backward and forward to every lift and heave, with 
 the same strange grin upon his face. And now 
 the steersman caught sight of the English boat as 
 she hove up to the top of a great wave. It was 
 plain that they had lost sight of the object they 
 were seeking. " Oars ! " cried the steersman. The 
 men ceased rowing, and watched him with anxious 
 and nervous eyes, waiting for the word to get 
 down to it again. 
 
 " There he is, Mr. Emmett ! about a half a mile 
 away there, sir, almost dead ahead ! And egad, 
 they see him too ! " for just as he had spoken the 
 English sweeps had caught the water with a plash. 
 
268 The Rival Life-Savers 
 
 Once more the boat-steerer's tongue was set 
 awagging. It was a race now down the two sides 
 of a triangle ; a fair race and a grand one. 
 
 " Every deviFs imp of you pull ! No talking ; 
 lay back to it ! Now or never ! " yelled the steerer. 
 
 The heavy English cutter, with her eight men at 
 the oars, had caught the fever too, and the five 
 rowers in the Yankee boat had work cut out for 
 them. The midshipman was now standing up, 
 balancing himself easily, with his legs spread wide 
 apart. 
 
 " We'll have that man, my lads ! " he shrieked. 
 "Only think he's ours, and there's no mistake, he 
 will be ours ! Give way, give way ! Now we have 
 him ! " 
 
 The man could now plainly be seen, clinging to 
 the top of the chicken coop. 
 
 " It's Brant, of the starboard watch, sir," said the 
 steersman, leaning over. " Harkee, he sees us." 
 
 It appeared as if both boats would arrive at the 
 same moment, when suddenly a most surprising 
 thing occurred. The man waved his hand, and 
 leaving the small but buoyant raft that had sup- 
 ported him, he plunged head first into the water and 
 struck out for the whaleboat hand over hand. The 
 bow oar leaned over and caught him by the back of 
 the shirt. A quick heave, and he was landed between 
 the thwarts. 
 
E 
 
The Rival Life-Savers 269 
 
 " I hated to spoil a good race, messmates/' he 
 pantedj "or I'd come off to you before." 
 
 The English cutter was now alongside. The 
 men in the two boats were looking at one another 
 curiously. 
 
 " Thank you very much for your trouble," cried 
 Midshipman Emmett, taking off his hat, and having 
 to shout his words very slowly and distinctly in 
 order for them to be heard. 
 
 " Nothing at all, I assure you, sir," came the 
 answer from the young man in the other boat. 
 " We saw the whole thing happen, and would have 
 been glad to pick him up for you. This is Mr. 
 Farren of the Hebe'' 
 
 " This is Mr. Emmett of the Macedonian, Good 
 day ! " 
 
 " Good day ! " 
 
 The stern way of the English vessel had carried 
 her well to leeward of the boats ; the frigate had 
 come about, and was slowly bearing down to pick 
 the whaleboat up. Amid great cheering she was 
 hoisted in at the davits. The hero of the occasion 
 saluted the quarter-deck and walked forward through 
 the crowd, whose anxiety had now changed to merri- 
 ment. At last he saw the old sailor who had been 
 on the main topsail-yard with him. 
 
 " Bill," said he, "what was you sayin* when I left 
 the yard to umpire that thar race ? " 
 

 RANDOM ADVENTURES 
 

RANDOM ADVENTURES 
 
 THE newspapers published during the War 
 of 1812, granted even that they were 
 vastly prejudiced of course, contained so 
 much of thrilling interest, and so much that is now 
 forgotten, that a complete file, for instance, of 
 " Niles's Register " is a mine of wealth to a student of 
 the times. Every week a stirring chapter was added 
 to the records of Yankee ships and Yankee sailors. 
 Fabulous sums were paid in prize money, fortunes 
 were made often in a single venture. 
 
 One of the luckiest cruises of the war, so far as 
 rich returns are concerned, was made by a little 
 squadron of four vessels that sailed from Boston on 
 October 8th under the command of Commodore 
 Rogers. It consisted of the President, the United 
 States, and the Congress frigates, and the Argus sloop 
 of war. Five days after sailing the United States and 
 the Argus became separated from the others in a 
 gale of wind, and afterwards cruised on their own 
 account. On the \c^t\i, tht President captured the 
 British packet Swallow, having on board two hun- 
 dred thousand dollars in specie — a rich haul, indeed. 
 T 273 
 
274 Random Adventures 
 
 On the 31st of the month, the Congress captured a 
 South Sea ship loaded with oil that was being con- 
 voyed by an English frigate, the Galatea; the 
 latter made off and left her consort to her fate. 
 The President, on the 25th of October, captured 
 the fine English frigate Macedonian, and sent her 
 safely into New London harbor. After taking one 
 or two smaller prizes, the President and Congress 
 sailed into Boston the last of December, having 
 covered over eight thousand miles. The landing 
 of the money taken from the Swallow and the other 
 prizes was made quite a function. It was loaded 
 into several large drays, and escorted from the Navy 
 Yard to the bank by the crews of the frigates and a 
 detachment of marines, " drums beating and colors 
 flying," as an old-time account has it. The gold 
 dust and specie amounted to the value of three 
 hundred thousand dollars, besides the value of the 
 vessels taken. 
 
 But the little Argus, under the command of Cap- 
 tain Sinclair, had some adventures worth the telling, 
 before she returned to port laden with the fruits of 
 war. After parting company with the squadron, 
 she laid her course for the coast of Brazil, then one 
 of the most profitable cruising grounds, although 
 the waters swarmed with British war vessels. From 
 Cape St. Roque to Surinam she sailed and there 
 made two prizes ; thence she cruised through the 
 
Random Adventures 275 
 
 West Indies and hovered in the vicinity of the 
 Bermudas ; afterwards she went as far north as Hali- 
 fax along the coast before she turned her head 
 towards home. 
 
 The Argus must have been a nimble vessel, for, 
 according to her logbook, she had escaped imminent 
 capture a score of times, owing to her speed and 
 capacity for sailing close on the wind. Once she 
 had fallen in with a British squadron of six sail, two 
 of them being ships of the line. For three days 
 and nights they pursued her closely. One of the 
 big fellows, proving to be a very fast sailer, out- 
 stripped the others, and twice was almost within gun- 
 shot. On the fourth day the Argus came up with 
 a large English merchant ship about sunset. The 
 wind had shifted so as to give her the windward 
 gage of the pursuing battle-ship. In full sight of 
 her, and of the others that were distant some ten or 
 twelve miles, the Argus captured the merchantman ; 
 and, under cover of the dark, stormy night that shut 
 down, she made her escape with her prize. After a 
 cruise of ninety-six days, she put into the harbor 
 of New York. The actual value of the prizes she 
 had captured amounted to upwards of two hundred 
 thousand dollars — more than enough to pay for 
 her original cost three times over. 
 
 But to leave the deeds of the regular navy and 
 take up those of a few of the private armed vessels : 
 
276 Random Adventures 
 
 less is known of their doings, of course ; they 
 should be given a separate volume to themselves 
 in writing the history of our wars with England — 
 and the volume is yet unwritten, but some day it may 
 be. Bravely they fought, often against odds, and 
 more than once they contributed to the defence of 
 our coast in cooperation with the regular navy and 
 the land forces. Take operations of the English 
 blockading squadron under Admiral Warren that 
 was sent to close up the waters of the Chesapeake. 
 Many were the times that the privateers eluded his 
 watch-dogs and sailed in and out through his fleet, 
 and more than once did he have a chance to test 
 their metal. The schooner Lottery^ of Baltimore, 
 mounting six guns and having a crew numbering 
 but thirty-five, in February, 18 13, was attacked by 
 nine large British boats containing over two hundred 
 and forty armed men. For an hour and a half the 
 privateer stood them off, and before she was finally 
 captured, she had killed more of the enemy than 
 her own crew numbered! The privateer Dolphin^ 
 also hailing from Baltimore, was taken after the same 
 heroic defence, and Admiral Warren must have 
 found such work to be rather uncomfortable experi- 
 ence. The United States schooner Asp^ three guns 
 and twenty-one men, was pursued up a shallow creek 
 by a detachment of boats from the English fleet; and, 
 after beating oflF her pursuers for some time, she was 
 
Random Adventures 277 
 
 taken by superior numbers and upon her capture 
 was set on fire. But the Americans, who had retreated 
 to shore, returned and succeeded in extinguishing 
 the flames and saving their vessel. A remarkable 
 thing in connection with the presence of the EngUsh 
 fleet in the Chesapeake was the attempt to blow up 
 the flagship Plantagenet with a torpedo. The news 
 that Americans were working upon such a line of 
 invention had filled the English with dread and 
 horror, they declared that any one captured while 
 engaged in such a work would be hanged at once 
 without a trial, for they denounced such methods 
 of warfare as "crimes against humanity." But this 
 did not deter an adventurous projector by the name 
 of Mix from trying to rid the bay of its unwelcome 
 visitors. For a long time he had been at work per- 
 fecting a " new explosive engine of great destructive 
 powers," and on the i8th of July, at midnight, he 
 dropped down with the tide alone in a small row- 
 boat, and, when within forty fathoms of the Plan- 
 tagenet, he put his torpedo into the water with the 
 intention of having it drift with the tide athwart 
 the flagship's bows. But an alert sentry on one of 
 the guard boats discovered him and hailed ; Mix 
 drew his infernal machine into his boat and escaped. 
 Every night for a week the inventor tried his luck, 
 but was spied before he could complete his prepara- 
 tions, and was forced to draw oflF. But once he so 
 
278 Random Adventures 
 
 frightened the English officers that they made sail 
 and shifted their anchorage, and upon another 
 occasion the flagship let go a pell-mell broadside, 
 and threw up rockets and blue lights to ascertain 
 the whereabouts of the lone adventurer. 
 
 On the night of the 24th Mix came very near 
 to accomplishing his purpose, and a contemporary 
 printed account gives such a vivid description of it 
 that it is well worth quoting: "When within one 
 hundred yards the machine was dropped into the 
 water, and at the same moment the sentinel cried, 
 * All's well,' the tide swept it towards the vessel, 
 but it exploded a few seconds too soon. A column 
 of water full fifty feet in circumference was thrown 
 up thirty or forty feet. Its appearance was a vivid 
 red tinged with purple at the sides. The summit 
 of the column burst with a tremendous explosion, 
 and fell on the deck of the Plantagenet in torrents, 
 while she rolled into the yawning chasm below and 
 nearly upset." Then the account shortly remarks, 
 " She, however, received but little injury." But 
 this early attempt at waging submarine warfare 
 made the British exceedingly weary of anchoring in 
 our ports, which was to our advantage. 
 
 But to leave this digression and return to the 
 privateers again : justice has not been done them, 
 as we have said. But to take the names of a few 
 and tell of their experiences is perhaps a good idea. 
 
Random Adventures 279 
 
 Well known were they to the public eighty odd 
 years ago. For instance, the schooner Atlas^ of 
 nineteen guns, that sailed from Philadelphia soon 
 after war was declared with England — she was 
 famous ! Her captain's name was David Moffat, 
 and he was a fearless commander and a " right good 
 seaman." The Chronicle and the Naval Temple^ 
 published in 18 16, give each a short account of 
 one of his encounters with the enemy ; to quote 
 from the latter : — 
 
 " On the third of August at eight a.m., the Atlas 
 discovered two sail, for which she bore away. At 
 eleven o'clock the action was commenced with a 
 broadside and musketry. She continued engaged 
 with both ships till noon, when the smaller one 
 struck her colors. The Atlas then directed the 
 whole of her fire against the large ship, when the 
 small one, although her colors were down, renewed 
 her fire on the AtlaSy which had to recommence 
 firing on her; in a few minutes every man was 
 driven from her decks. Twenty minutes past 
 twelve the large ship struck. Possession was im- 
 mediately taken of both of them. One proved 
 to be the ship Pursuit^ Captain Chivers, of four 
 hundred and fifty tons, sixteen guns, and thirty-five 
 men. The other was the ship Planter, Captain 
 Frith, of two hundred and eighty tons, twelve guns, 
 and fifteen men." They proved to be richly laden, 
 
28o Random Adventures 
 
 and with both of them in her wake the Atlas 
 started for home ; she had lost but two men 
 killed and five wounded. The Pursuit arrived safe 
 in port on the same day as the privateer, but the 
 Planter was recaptured off the cape of the Dela- 
 ware. 
 
 The privateer Decatur under command of Cap- 
 tain Divon, after a long and severe fight, captured 
 a schooner of the English service that mounted 
 fifteen guns — over twice as many as the Decatur 
 carried. The Saratoga of New York, Captain Ader- 
 ton, took the Morgania^ a British packet of eighteen 
 guns, off Surinam, and in the action both vessels 
 were nearly dismantled. The Cornet^ of Baltimore, 
 had a running fight with three English merchant- 
 men and a Portuguese sloop of war ; she beat oflF 
 the latter, who oflliciously interfered, and compelled 
 all three of the Englishmen to strike their colors. 
 The Young Eagle took two British ships at once — 
 one quite as large and as powerful as she was. The 
 Montgomery^ Captain Upton of Boston, mounting 
 twelve guns, fought yard arm to yard arm with a 
 fine sloop of war belonging to the English navy, 
 mounting twenty guns. The Surinam^ for that was 
 her name, gave up the fight, and, much crippled, 
 put in at Barbadoes. They were rare good fighters 
 — these privateers. 
 
 But perhaps one of the strangest adventures was 
 
Random Adventures 281 
 
 that of the Toung Teazer — what a saucy, impudent 
 name for a vessel ; but, according to account, it suited 
 her to a nicety. Captain Dobson of New York 
 was part owner and commander, and while cruising 
 off Halifax he was chased by a large armed ship, the 
 Sir John Sherbroke. As she kept gaining steadily, 
 Dobson headed his own vessel straight for Halifax 
 harbor ; he passed the lighthouse, and as he did 
 so hoisted up English colors over the American 
 in order to lead his pursuer to suppose he was an 
 English prize. As if in disgust at having wasted 
 so much time, the Sir John Sherbroke hove about 
 and put to sea, and as soon as she was at a safe 
 distance, Dobson hauled down his misleading colors 
 and did likewise, successfully escaping. 
 
 The journals of the time are crowded with ad- 
 ventures such as these, and the few here referred 
 to have been selected merely at random. But they 
 give an idea of the adventurous spirit and daring 
 enterprise of the Yankee tars and captains. 
 
THE STANDAED SCHOOL LIBRARY. 
 
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4 
 
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8 
 
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 Illustrated, viii +124 pages. 
 
 A collection of fifty dehghtful jingles and nonsense verses. The 
 illustrations by Oliver Herford do justice to the text. 
 
 WILSON. DOMESTIC SCIENCE IN GRAMMAR GRADES. A 
 Reader. By Lucy L. W. Wilson. 12mo. ix + 193 pages. 
 
 Descriptions of homes and household customs of all ages and 
 countries, studies of materials and industries, glimpses of the 
 homes of literature, and articles on various household subjects. 
 
 WILSON. HISTORY READER FOR ELEMENTARY SCHOOLS. 
 By Lucy L. W. Wilson. 16mo. Illustrated, xvdi + 403 
 pages. 
 
 Stories grouped about the greatest men and the most striking 
 events in our country's history. The readings run by months, 
 beginning with September. 
 
 WILSON. PICTURE STUDY IN ELEMENTARY SCHOOLS. By 
 Lucy L. W. Wilson. 12mo. Illustrated. 
 
10 
 
 Ninety half-tone reproductions from celebrated paintings both 
 old and modern, accompanied by appropriate readings from the 
 poets. All schools of art are represented. 
 
 WRIGHT. HEART OF NATURE. By Mabel Osgood Wright. 
 12mo. Illustrated. 
 
 This volume comprises "Stories of Plants and Animals," 
 "Stories of Earth and Sky," and "Stories of Birds and Beasts," 
 usually published in three volumes and known as "The Heart of 
 Nature Series." It is a delightful combination of story and 
 nature study, the author's name being a suflBcient warrant for its 
 interest and fidelity to nature. 
 
 WRIGHT. FOUR-FOOTED AMERICANS AND THEIR KIN. By 
 
 Mabel Osgood Wright, edited by Frank Chapman. 12mo. 
 Illustrated, xv + 432 pages. 
 
 An animal book in story form. The scene shifts from farm to 
 woods, and back to an old room, fitted as a sort of winter camp, 
 where vivid stories of the birds and beasts which cannot be seea 
 at home are told by the campfire, — the sailor who has hunted the 
 sea, the woodman, the mining engineer, and wandering scientist, 
 each taking his turn. A useful family tree of North American 
 Mammals is added. 
 
 WRIGHT. DOGTOWN.' By Mabel Osgood Wright. 12mo. 
 Illustrated, xiii + 405 pages. 
 
 "Dogtown" was a neighborhood so named because so many 
 people loved and kept dogs. For it is a story of people as well as 
 of dogs, and several of the people as well as the dogs are old friends^ 
 having been met in Mrs. Wright's other books. 
 
 YONGE. LITTLE LUCY'S WONDERFUL GLOBE. By Char- 
 lotte M. Yonge. 12mo. Illustrated, xi + 140 pages. 
 
 An interesting and ingenious introduction to geography. In 
 her dreams Lucy visits the children of various lands and thus 
 learns much of the habits and customs of these countries. 
 
 YONGE. UNKNOWN TO HISTORY. By Charlotte M. Yonge. 
 12mo. Illustrated, xi + 589 pages. 
 
 A story of the captivity of Mary Queen of Scots, told in the 
 
 author's best vein. 
 
^ 
 
 14 DAY USE 
 
 RETURN TO DESK FROM WHICH BORROWED 
 
 LOAN DEPT. 
 
 This book is due on the last date stamped below, ot 
 
 on the date to which renewed. 
 
 Renewed books are subject to immediate recaU. 
 
 10Jul'64U- 
 
 RECXLJLa 
 
 M 2 6 'BA-4f^ 
 
 LD 21A-60rn-4.'64: 
 (E4555sl0)476B 
 
 General Libfar>' 
 
 University of California 
 
 Berkeley