BRITISH CRUISERS.
The peace of 1783 between the United States and Great Britain had been
extorted by the necessities, rather than obtained by the good will of
England. Though, by a formal treaty, the United States were declared
free and independent, they were still hated in Great Britain as
rebellious colonies. That such was the general opinion is manifest from
the letters of John Adams, our first minister to the court of St. James,
and from other authentic contemporary accounts. Of course there were a
few men of sufficiently enlarged and comprehensive minds to forget the
past and urge, even in parliament, that the trade of America would be
more valuable as an ally than a dependent; but the number of these was
small indeed. The common sentiment in England toward the young republic
was one of scornful detestation. We were despised as provincials, we
were hated as rebels. In the permanency of our institutions there was
scarce a believer in all Britain. This was especially the case prior to
the adoption of the federal constitution. Both in parliament and out, it
was publicly boasted that the Union would soon fall to pieces, and that,
finding their inability to govern themselves, the different States
would, one by one, supplicate to be received back as colonies. This vain
and empty expectation long lingered in the popular mind, and was not
wholly eradicated until after the war of 1812.
Consequently the new republic was treated with arrogant contempt. One of
the first acts of John Adams, as minister to England, had been to
propose placing the navigation and trade between the dominions of Great
Britain and the territories of the United States, on a basis of complete
reciprocity. By acceding to such a measure England might have gained
much and could have lost but little. The proposal was rejected almost
with terms of insult, and Mr. Adams was sternly informed that a "no
other would be entertained." The consequences were that the free negroes
of Jamaica, and others of the poorer inhabitants of the British West
India Islands were reduced to starvation by being deprived of their
usual supplies from the United States. This unreasonable policy on the
part of England naturally exasperated the Americans, and one of the
first acts of the federal government in 1789 was to adopt retaliatory
measures. A navy law was passed, which has since been the foundation of
all our treaties of reciprocity with England. A protective tariff was
also adopted as another means of retaliation. In these measures, the
United States, being a young nation with unlimited territory, had
everything to gain, and England all to lose. Great Britain was first to
tire of restrictive measures, and, by a repeal on her part, invited a
repeal on ours.
In another way Great Britain exasperated the popular feeling here
against her, and even forced the American government, once or twice, to
the verge of war. By the treaty of peace, all military posts held by
England within the limits of the United States were to be given up.
Michilimacinac, Detroit, Oswegotche, Point au Fer and Dutchman's Point
were long held in defiance of the compact. These posts became the centre
of intrigues among the savages of the Northwest. Arms were here
distributed to the Indians, and disturbances on the American frontier
were fomented. The war on the Miami, which was brought to a bloody close
by Wayne's victory, was, principally, the result of such secret
machinations. In short, England regarded the treaty of 1783 as a truce
rather than a pacification, and long, held to the hope of being able yet
to punish the colonies for their rebellion. In two celebrated letters
written by John Adams from Great Britain, he used the following decided
language in reference to the secret designs of England:
"If she can bind Holland in her shackles, and France from internal
dissensions is unable to interfere, she will make war immediately
against us." This was in 1787. Two years before he had expressed, the
same ideas. "Their present system, as far as I can penetrate it," he
wrote, "is to maintain a determined peace with all Europe, in order that
they may war singly against America, if they should think it necessary."
A sentiment of such relentless hostility, which no attempt was made to
disguise, but which was arrogantly paraded on every occasion, could not
fail to exasperate those feelings of dislike on the part of America,
which protracted war had engendered. This mutual hatred between the two
nations arose from the enmity of the people rather than of the cabinets,
"There is too much reason to believe," wrote our minister, "that if the
nation had another hundred million to spend, they would soon force the
ministry into another war with us." On the side of the United States, it
required all the prudence of Washington, sustained by his hold on the
affections of the people, to restrain them from a war with England,
after that power had refused to surrender the military posts.
A third element of discord arose when England joined the coalition
against France, in 1793. The course which the former had pursued for the
preceding ten years, had, as we have seen, tended to alienate the people
of America from her and nourish sentiments of hostility in their bosoms.
On the other hand, France, with that address for which she is eminent,
had labored to heighten the good feelings already existing between
herself and the United States. A treaty of alliance and commerce bound
the two countries; but the courteous demeanor of France cemented us to
her by still stronger ties, those of popular will.
Before the revolution broke out in Paris, the enthusiasm of America
toward France could scarce be controlled. There can be no doubt that, if
the subsequent excesses had not alarmed all prudent friends of liberty,
the people of this country could not have been restrained from engaging
in the struggle between France and England; but the reign of terror,
backed by the insolence of Citizen Genet the minister of the French
republic, and afterward by the exactions of the Directory, checked the
headlong enthusiasm that otherwise would have embroiled us in the
terrible wars of that period. In his almost more than human wisdom,
Washington had selected a course of strict neutrality, from which public
enthusiasm, nor fear of loss of public favor could swerve him. His
course was wise and proper for the still weak confederacy; and every day
was productive of events which showed the wisdom of this decision.
Neither Great Britain nor France, however, was gratified by this
neutrality. Each nation wished the aid of the Americans, and became
arrogant and insulting when they found the resolution of the Americans
unbroken. Napoleon, on the part of France, saw the impolicy of such
treatment, and when he became first consul, he hastened to abandon it;
but England relaxed little or nothing. Circumstances, moreover, made her
conduct more irritating than that of France, and hence prolonged and
increased the exasperation felt toward her in America.
As a great naval power, the policy of England has been to maintain
certain maritime laws, which her jurists claim to be part of the code of
nations and enforce in her admiralty courts. One principle of these laws
is this, that warlike munitions must become contraband in war; in other
words, that a neutral vessel cannot carry such into the enemy's port.
Hence, if a vessel, sailing under the flag of the United States, should
be captured on the high seas, bound for France, during the prevalence of
a war between that power and England, and be found to be laden with
ship-timber or other manufactured or unmanufactured articles for
warlike purposes, the vessel would, by the law of nations, become a
prize to the captors. The right to condemn a ship carrying such
contraband goods has always been recognized by civilized nations, and,
indeed, it is founded in common justice. England, however, having
supreme control at sea, and being tempted by the hope of destroying the
sinews of her adversary's strength, resolved to stretch this rule so as
to embrace provisions as well as munitions of war. She proceeded
gradually to her point. She first issued an order, on the 8th of June,
1793, for capturing and bringing into port "all vessels laden, wholly or
in part with corn, flour, or meal, and destined to France, or to other
countries, if occupied by the arms of that nation." Such vessels were
not condemned, nor their cargoes seized; but the latter were to be
purchased on behalf of the English Government; or, if not, then the
vessels, on giving due security, were allowed to proceed to any neutral
port. Of course the price of provisions in France and in England was
materially different, and a lucrative traffic for the United States was,
in this way, destroyed. Moreover, this proceeding was a comparative
novelty in the law of nations, and, however it might suit the purposes
of Great Britain, it was a gross outrage on America. In November of the
same year, it was followed by a still more glaring infraction of the
rights of neutrals, in an order, condemning to capture and adjudication
all vessels laden with the produce of any French colony, or with
supplies for such a colony.
The fermentation in consequence of this order rose to such a height in
America, that it required all the skill of Washington to avert a war.
The president, however, determining to preserve peace if possible,
despatched Jay to London as a minister plenipotentiary, by whose frank
explanations, redress was in a measure obtained for the past, and a
treaty negotiated, not, indeed, adequate to justice, but better than
could be obtained again, when it expired in 1806.
The relaxation in the rigor of the order of November, 1793, soon proved
to be more nominal than real; and from 1794 until the peace of Amiens in
1802, the commerce of the United States continued to be the prey of
British cruisers and privateers. After the renewal of the war, the fury
of the belligerents increased, and with it the stringent measures
adopted by Napoleon and Great Britain. The French Emperor, boldly
avowing his intention to crush England, forbade by a series of decrees,
issued from Berlin, Milan and Rambouillet, the importation of her
commodities into any part of Europe under his control; and England,
equally sweeping in her acts, declared all such ports in a state of
blockade, thus rendering any neutral vessel liable to capture, which
should attempt to enter them. The legality of a blockade, where there is
not a naval power off the coast competent to maintain such blockade, has
always been denied by the lesser maritime powers. Its effect, in the
present instance, was virtually to exclude the United States from
foreign commerce. In these extreme measures, Napoleon and England were
equally censured; but the policy of the latter affected the Americans
far more than the former. The exasperation against Great Britain became
extreme and pervaded the whole community; that against France was
slighter and confined to the more intelligent. Napoleon was first to
begin these outrages on the rights of neutrals; but his injustice was
practically felt only on land; while England was first to introduce the
paper blockade, a measure ruinous to American merchants. This was
finally done on May 16, 1806, when Great Britain announced a "blockade
of the coast rivers and ports, from the river Elbe to the port of Brest
inclusive." On the 21st of November, of the same year, Napoleon in
retaliation, issued a decree from Berlin, placing the British Islands in
a state of blockade. This decree was followed by a still more stringent
order in council on the part of England.
It now became necessary for the United States either to engage in a
war, or to withdraw her commerce from the ocean. The popular voice
demanded the former course. Though France was, in the abstract, as
unjust as England, her oppressive measures did not affect American
commerce, and hence the indignation of the people was directed chiefly
against Great Britain; but with the president it was different. Though
his sympathies were with. France, his judgment was against her as well
as England. In his maturer wisdom, he could now appreciate the great
good sense of Washington's neutrality. Besides, the grand old man Thomas
Jefferson was determined to preserve peace, for it was his favorite
maxim that "the best war is more fatal than the worst peace." A further
reason led him to refuse the alternative of war. He was not without hope
that one or both of the belligerents would return to reason and repeal
the obnoxious acts, if the conduct of the United States, instead of
being aggressive, should be patient. Actuated by these views, the
president recommended to congress the passage of an embargo act. An
embargo law was enacted in December, 1807. By it all American vessels
abroad were called home, and those in the United States were prohibited
from leaving port. In consequence of this measure, the commerce of the
country was annihilated in an hour; and harbors, once flourishing and
prosperous, soon became only resorts for rotting ships. There can be no
question now that the embargo was a serious blunder. It crippled the
American resources for the war that ensued; made the eastern States
hostile to Jefferson's, as well as his successor's administration, and
tended to foster in the minds of the populace at large, an idea that we
shrank from a contest with Great Britain in consequence of
inherent weakness.
There was a fourth and last cause of exasperation, against England,
which assisted more than all the rest to produce the war of 1812. This
was the British claim to the right of impressment. In the terrible
struggles in which England found herself engaged with France, her
maritime force was her chief dependence, and accordingly she increased
the number of her ships unprecedentedly; but it soon became difficult to
man all these vessels. The thriving commerce pursued by the United
States, as early as 1793, drew large numbers of English seamen into our
mercantile marine service, where they obtained better wages than on
board English vessels. By the fiction of her law, a man born an English
subject can never throw off this allegiance. Great Britain determined to
seize her seamen wherever found and force them, to serve her flag. In
consequence, her cruisers stopped every American vessel they met and
searched the crew in order to reclaim the English, Scotch or Irish on
board. Frequently it happened that persons born in America were taken as
British subjects; for, where the boarding officer was judge and jury of
a man's nationality, there was little chance of justice, especially if
the seaman was a promising one, or the officer's ship was short-handed.
In nine months, during parts of the years 1796 and 1797, the American
minister at the court of London had made application for the discharge
of two hundred and seventy-one native born Americans, proved to have
been thus impressed. These outrages against personal independence were
regarded among the great masses of Americans with the utmost
indignation. Such injuries exasperated every soul not made sordid by
selfish desire for gain. That an innocent man, peaceably pursuing an
honorable vocation, should be forcibly carried on board a British
man-of-war, and there be compelled to remain, shut out from all hope of
ever seeing his family, seemed, to the robust sense of justice in the
popular breast, little better than Algerian bondage. The rage of the
people was increased by tales of horror and aggression that occasionally
reached their ears from these prison ships. Stories were told of
impressed Americans escaping the ships, who, on being recaptured, were
whipped until they died. In one instance, a sailor, goaded to madness,
seized the captain and, springing overboard, drowned himself and his
tormentor.
Every attempt to arrange this difficulty with England had signally
failed. The United States offered that all American seamen should be
registered and provided with a certificate of citizenship; that the
number of crews should be limited by the tonnage of the ship, and if
this number was exceeded, British subjects enlisted should be liable to
impressment; that deserters should be given up, and that a prohibition
should be issued by each party against clandestinely secreting and
carrying off the seamen of the other. In 1800 and again in 1806, it was
attempted to form treaties in reference to this subject; but the
pertinacity with which England adhered to her claim frustrated every
effort at reconciliation. In 1803, the difficulty had nearly been
adjusted by a convention, Great Britain agreeing to abandon her claim to
impressment on the high seas, if allowed to retain it on the narrow
seas, or those immediately surrounding her island; but this being
rejected as inadmissible by the United States, all subsequent efforts at
an arrangement proved unsuccessful. The impressment of seamen continued
and was the source of daily increasing abuse. Not only Americans, but
Danes, Swedes, Germans, Russians, Frenchmen, Spaniards and Portuguese
were seized and forcibly carried off by British men-of-war. There are
even well attested instances of Asiatics and Africans being thus
impressed. In short, as the war in Europe approached its climax, seamen
became more scarce in the British Navy, and, all decency being thrown
aside, crews were filled up under color of this claim, regardless even
of the show of justice. In 1811, it was computed that the number of men
impressed from the American marine service amounted to not less than
six thousand.
In the spring of 1807, a crisis approached. A small British squadron lay
in American waters near the mouth of the Chesapeake Bay, watching some
French frigates blockaded at Annapolis. Three of the crew of one of the
vessels and one of another had deserted and enlisted on board the United
States frigate _Chesapeake_, lying at the Washington Navy yard. The
British minister made a formal demand for their surrender. Our
government refused compliance because it was ascertained that two of the
men were natives of the United States, and there was strong presumptive
evidence that a third was, likewise. No more was said; but the commander
of the British squadron took the matter into his own hands.
The _Chesapeake_, on going to sea on the morning of June 22, 1807, was
intercepted by the British frigate _Leopard_, whose commander hailed
the commodore and informed him that he had a despatch for him.
Unsuspicious of unfriendliness, the _Chesapeake_ was laid to, when a
British boat, bearing a lieutenant, came alongside. Barron politely
received him in his cabin, when the lieutenant presented a demand from
the commander of the _Leopard_ that the bearer be allowed to muster the
crew of the _Chesapeake_, that he might select and carry away the
deserters. The demand was authorized by instructions received from
Vice-Admiral Berkeley, at Halifax. Barron told the lieutenant that his
crew should not be mustered, excepting by his own officers, when the
lieutenant withdrew and the _Chesapeake_ moved on.
Having some fear of mischief, Barron made some preparation to resist;
but it was too late to prepare to cope with the _Leopard_, which
followed close in her wake, and the commander called out through
his trumpet:
"Commodore Barron must be aware that the vice-admiral's commands must be
obeyed." The _Chesapeake_ held on her course although this was repeated.
The _Leopard_ sent two shots athwart her bows. These were followed by a
broadside poured into the hull of the _Chesapeake_. The American vessel,
having no priming in her guns, was unable to return the fire, and after
being severely bruised by repeated broadsides she surrendered to her
assailants. Her crew was mustered by the British officers and the
deserters carried away. One of them, a British subject, was hanged at
Halifax and the others, being Americans, were spared on their consenting
to enlist in the English Navy. Commodore Barron was tried on charge of
neglect of duty in not being prepared for action, found guilty, and
suspended from the service for five years without pay or emolument.
On March 4, 1809, Mr. James Madison of Virginia succeeded Mr. Thomas
Jefferson as president of the United States. His cabinet were Robert
Smith, secretary of state; Albert Gallatin, secretary of the treasury;
William Eustis, secretary of war; Paul Hamilton, secretary of the navy,
and Caesar Rodney, attorney-general. There was a powerful party in the
nation hostile to his political creed, and consequently opposed to his
administration and the war with England which seemed inevitable.
French and English nations became more embroiled in trouble, which
increased the trouble between the United States and Great Britain.
At last the English government sent men-of-war to cruise off the
principal ports of the United States to intercept American
merchant-vessels and send them to England as lawful prizes. In this
business, the _Little Belt_, a British sloop-of-war, was engaged off the
coast of Virginia in the spring of 1811, where, on the 16th of April,
she met the American frigate _President_, under Captain Ludlow, bearing
the broad pennant of Commodore Rodgers. Commodore Rodgers, being aboard
the _President_, hailed the sloop and asked:
"What sloop is that?"
A cannon-shot was his reply.
"Captain Ludlow," said the commodore, "we will teach that fellow good
manners. Are your guns in order?"
"They are."
"We have been taught a lesson by Barron's mishap. Train the guns and be
ready to fire."
With a speaking trumpet, the commodore once more hailed the sloop with:
"What sloop is that?"
This time he was greeted with a broadside.
"Fire!" cried the commodore, and the cannon of the _President_ sent a
broadside of heavy shot against the impudent stranger.
The conflict lasted only about ten minutes, when Captain Bingham, after
losing eleven killed and twenty-one wounded, gave a satisfactory answer.
The vessels parted company, the _Little Belt_ sailing for Halifax
for repairs.
It was in the year 1809 that the American brig _Dover_, one of the few
of American merchant vessels which had managed to escape the ruin of
Jefferson's embargo act, was sailing among the lesser Antilles. The
master-captain Parson was a thorough seaman with a heart as big as
an ox.
British cruisers were a greater bugbear to American vessels than
pirates, and Captain Parson kept a constant lookout for them.
On the afternoon of an Autumnal day, when he found himself becalmed off
a small island not down on the chart, the skipper felt no little
uneasiness. He paced his deck impatiently, occasionally turning his eye
to every quarter, surveying the horizon for some sign of a gale of wind.
"Mr. Brown, Mr. Brown," he called to his mate.
"Aye, aye, sir," answered Mr. Brown, hurrying forward.
"Mr. Brown, look across that point of land sou-west the island--get your
glass."
"Aye, aye, sir!"
The mate ran and got his glass. He came back to the captain and leveled
it in the direction indicated by the captain.
"Do you see anything?"
"I do, sir."
"What is it?"
"I see the top gallant of a ship."
"I thought I was not mistaken. Can you make out her colors?"
"I will go aloft, captain, and see."
The mate ascended to the foretop cross-tree, and took a long survey of
the stranger. When he descended the captain asked:
"What is she?"
"An English frigate."
"I knew it!" growled the captain. "I felt it in my bones. We shall have
the rascals overhauling us anon. Egad, I wish we had an armed crew and
heavy guns--I would not wait for congress to declare war."
"But captain, while this dead calm lasts, she cannot move more than
ourselves."
"Very true, Mr. Brown, but, egad, she will catch the breeze first, and
come up with it. Thank heaven we have no man aboard our ship born out of
the United States. They cannot impress any for Englishmen."
The mate answered:
"They care little whether we are English or American born; if they are
short of hands, they will take such of our crews as they want."
The captain paced the deck uneasily, occasionally muttering:
"Zounds, don't I wish I had a few heavy guns."
There was but one small brass piece aboard, and it was only a six
pounder, unable to render much service. His country was nominally at
peace with Great Britain; but that did not prevent honest merchantmen
suffering at the hands of the British cruisers.
The afternoon wore away and the sun had set before there was breeze
enough to fill a sail. Just as the vessel began to glide slowly away
from the small island not more than two miles distant, the mate, who had
ascended to the lookout's position cried:
"Boat, ho!"
"Where away?"
"To leeward, heading direct for us."
The captain seized his glass and turned it toward the island. The sombre
shades of twilight had already gathered over the scene; but he saw
through them quite distinctly a boat pulled by four men, while a fifth
sat in the stern holding the tiller. The steersman kept the small island
between them and the vessel Captain Parson had discovered.
As the breeze grew stiffer and the _Dover_ began to fill away, the mate,
who had never taken his glass off the approaching boat, suddenly cried:
"Captain Parson, they are signalling us to heave to!"
"So they are, by zounds!" the puzzled captain exclaimed.
"What will you do?"
After a moment's hesitation, the captain said:
"Heave to, by Jove, and see what they want!"
The order was given, and the vessel rocked idly on the waves, while the
boat drew rapidly nearer. At last it was near enough for them to make
out the five men dressed in the uniform of British marines.
"Brown, I don't like this. Those fellows are from his majesty's frigate,
there is no doubt, and they mean us trouble."
"Wait and see, captain," the mate answered, coming down to the deck.
"There are but five of them, and, so far as I can see, all are unarmed."
The deck by this time was crowded with the crew, all waiting in anxious
expectation and dread.
"It am de press gang!" said the cook, who was a negro black as the ace
of spades named Job. "Dey am comin' to take off everybody dat looks like
a Britisher. Golly! do I look like a Britisher?"
Notwithstanding the gravity of the situation, a smile flitted
momentarily over the faces of the officers and crew. The boat by this
time was within hailing distance, though it had grown so dark the
inmates of it could be only dimly seen.
"Boat, ahoy!" cried the captain.
"Aye, aye, sir!" came back the response.
"What boat is that?"
"A boat from his majesty's ship the _Sea-Wing._ We wish to come aboard
your vessel."
When the captain asked them their business, they frankly confessed that
they were deserters and had been secreted all day on the island watching
an opportunity to reach the American brig.
Their story was a probable one, and the captain and his officers
believed it. A rope was tossed to them, and in a few moments five
stalwart jack tars in the uniform of the British Navy stood on the deck.
One tall, fine-looking seaman, who was every inch a gentleman, and whose
conversation was evidence of education and refinement, told their story.
Three of them were Americans, and two were Swedes. They had been seized
by the press gang and made slaves on board the frigate.
"It has been many years," said the tall sailor, "since I saw my native
land. I am a native of Hartford, Connecticut."
"Why didn't you escape sooner?" the Captain asked.
"Escape, captain, is no easy matter, and is attended with serious
consequences. They usually hang one who tries to desert. I am a gunner,
by profession, and but for the fact they need my services against the
French, I would have been hung long since for trying to desert."
The gunner impressed Captain Parson favorably. He was a man between
forty and forty-five years of age. His eyes were deep blue, his hair
light. His round, full face was smooth shaven. As he stood on the deck,
his brawny arms folded across his massive chest, he looked a perfect
model of a man and a tower of strength.
Captain Parson led him aside and said:
"You are no common sailor."
"I'm only a gunner now, captain."
"But in the past?"
"I once commanded a ship. I will tell you my story on the morrow. It is
a sad one, but, thank God, there's nothing in it at which I need blush.
For the present, however, let us get along as fast as your ship can make
it, for the _Sea-Wing_ is a swift vessel, and if we are not beyond reach
of her vision before the dawn of day, we shall be overhauled."
Captain Parson knew that some evil consequences might result from being
overhauled by the _Sea-Wing,_ and consequently every stitch of canvas
was spread and the brig sped away with a good stiff breeze. It was a
long and anxious night; master and crew were all on deck. No one slept.
The coming dawn would tell the story. If the frigate were in sight,
then they might expect the very worst; even the ship might be captured
and borne away as a prize and the entire crew enslaved.
Dawn came at last. Each anxious heart welcomed and yet dreaded to see
the new day. Sailors and officers swept the sea as it grew lighter, and,
to their dread, just as the sun rose over the glossy surface of the sea,
a snowy speck appeared far off to the westward.
The lookout at the mast-head first called their attention to it, and as
it drew nearer and nearer the tall handsome gunner went aloft with a
glass to see if he could recognize it. In a few moments he came back
and said:
"It is the frigate, sir."
That she was in full chase, there could not be a doubt. Captain Parson
had little hope of escaping; but he put the _Dover_ on her best sailing
point and scudded away before the wind with every stitch of canvas they
could carry.
"Oh, golly! I hope dey won't mistake--dey won't mistake dis chile for a
Britisher!" groaned Job the cook, who was trembling from head to foot,
and whose black skin was almost pale.
The five deserters were pale but calm. They seemed to read their fate
and bore it like men. A flogging was the very least they could expect;
but the chances were that every one would hang. The frigate was the
swifter sailor and overhauled them so rapidly, that, in two hours and a
half, she was within a mile of the brig.
Suddenly a wreath of white smoke curled up from the forecastle, and a
moment later a ball came skipping over the water under their larboard
deck, while the boom of a cannon sounded over the sea. As the fine spray
clipped from the crested waves by the shot, flew over the deck, Mr.
Brown said:
"Captain, it's no use, she will be near enough to sink us in ten
minutes."
"Heave to, Brown. Oh! I wish I had arms and a crew!"
"Captain," interposed the tall, handsome gunner, "I--I know their skill
and metal. If you had a gun--a single gun of proper calibre, I could
sink her. I am called the best shot in the English navy."
"We have only a six pounder," answered the captain, ruefully, pointing
to their only gun. It was but an inferior piece, and when the gunner
examined it, he turned to his four anxious companions and said:
"It would be suicide."
Then the five sailors stood near the main gangway with arms folded,
heads erect, and resigned like brave men to their fate. The frigate came
bearing down upon them like a great mountain, and soon lay alongside.
The captain and a score of marines all armed with muskets, came aboard.
"So ho!" cried the captain, "you have my live runaways snug enough.
Seize them and carry them aboard, lieutenant."
A young officer with ten men now seized the five deserters, handcuffed
them and led them to their ship which lay alongside. As they went over
the rail, the brutal captain said something about swinging at the yard
arm. Turning to Parson, he said:
"Captain, muster your crew and have them pass before me."
Much as the captain disliked to do so, he was in the power of the brutal
Englishman and forced to do his bidding. As the sailors passed slowly
before him, the Briton eyed each carefully. Suddenly he pointed to a
stout young sailor named Tom, and cried:
"Stop sir, you are an Englishman!"
"I am not, capen, ye's mistaken, I was born at Plymouth, Massachusetts."
"Don't dispute my word, sir. I know you, seize him!"
Though three of Tom's messmates offered to swear that he was a native of
Massachusetts, he was seized, ironed and hurried away. Two more were
selected, despite the protests of Captain Parson, who was raging like a
madman, and hurried aboard the frigate. The fourth man halted in the
procession was Job, the colored cook.
"Stop, sir, I want you!" said the English officer.
[Illustration: "DO YOU THINK DAR IS ANY ANGLER SAXUN BLOOD IN DESE
VEINS?"]
"Want me, Capen? oh, golly! I ain't a Britisher!" cried Job,
gesticulating wildly. "Do I look like I war a Britisher? Do you think
dar is any Angler Sacksun blood in dese veins?"
Job howled and appealed in vain. The commander of the _Sea Wing_
declared him to be an English negro, and he was hurried away to try the
hard service on board a British war vessel.
Having culled the crew of the _Dover_ to his heart's content, the
haughty Briton went aboard his own ship and continued his cruise,
leaving Captain Parson expressing his ideas in such language as no
parson should use.