ON WATER.
The English navy was the pride of that great nation in 1812, as it is
now. When war with the United States was discussed, the idea that
America without a navy, and with but few if any trained naval officers
could cope with England, caused the Briton to smile; but a great
surprise was in store. The first American victories were on the high
seas. Tradition, discipline, ships and training seemed all of no avail.
While the English were carrying everything on land, where it was
supposed they were weakest, they were losing everything on water, where
thought to be strongest. Everybody was surprised. They supposed the
first three or four American victories were accidents; but as success
after success continued to follow the American arms at sea, they were
dumfounded. England's boasted navy had lost its power.
The first naval engagement of any consequence was on August 19, 1812.
Captain Hull of the United States frigate _Constitution_ captured an
English frigate, _The Guerriere_, after a hard fought battle. _The
Guerriere_ had made herself very obnoxious in her way of challenging
American vessels. In this engagement she lost seventy-nine killed and
wounded, while the _Constitution_ lost but thirteen. There were ten
impressed Americans on _The Guerriere_. On the 7th of September, the
United States frigate _Essex_ captured the _Alert_ in a fight of eight
minutes. The American sloop-of-war _Wasp_, on the 18th of October,
encountered the British sloop-of-war _Frolic_, a much larger and
stronger ship. The fight was terrible, and only three officers and one
seaman on the _Frolic_ remained unhurt; almost a hundred were killed and
wounded, while the Americans lost but ten. The _Wasp_ did not long enjoy
her triumph, however. On that same evening the British man-of-war
_Poicters_, Captain Beresford, captured the _Wasp_ and her prize.
The phrase "Free Trade and Sailors' Rights," borne on the banner at the
masthead of the _Essex_, soon became the war-cry of the American seaman.
The 25th of October, 1812, one week after the victory and loss of the
gallant _Wasp_, dawned bright and clear on the English frigate
_Macedonian_ sailing westward of Canary Islands. Little change had come
to the _Macedonian_ since Fernando Stevens had been transferred from her
to the sloop. At this time there were but three impressed Americans on
the _Macedonian_, Sukey, a negro sailor called Tawney and a man
named Rogers.
Notwithstanding their difference in race and social standing, Sukey and
Tawney were attached to each other. Both were Americans, and both loved
the star-spangled banner.
It was a holy Sabbath morning, and every sailor, according to Captain
Garden's orders, was dressed in his best, when the cry of, "Sail ho!"
rang out from the masthead. It was ascertained that the stranger was an
American, and the ship was cleared for action. As the _Macedonian_ bore
down on the American--her men at their quarters--Sukey and Tawney, who
happened to be stationed at the quarter-deck battery, respectfully
accosted the captain, as he passed them in his rapid promenade, his
spyglass under his arm.
"Say, look here," said Sukey, "we are not Englishmen; we don't want to
be in the game. It's a bitter thing to lift a hand against the flag of
that country which harbors our parents. Please release us from this
contest and let us remain neutral during the fight; I tell you, I don't
want to be in the game."
When a ship of any nation is running into action, there is no time for
argument, small time for justice, and not much for humanity. Snatching a
pistol from the belt of a boarder standing by, the captain leveled it
at the heads of the sailors, and commanded them instantly to their
quarters, under penalty of being shot on the spot. So, side by side with
their country's foes, Sukey, Tawney and Rogers toiled at the guns, and
fought out the fight to the last; with the exception of Rogers who was
killed by one of his country's balls.
The conflict was terrible. Sukey was stationed on the gun deck, abreast
the mainmast. This part of the ship they called the slaughter-house, for
men fell five and six at a time. An enemy nearly always directs his shot
at this point in order to cut away the mast. The beams and carlines were
spattered with blood and brains. About the hatchways it looked like a
butcher's stall; bits of human flesh were sticking in the ring-bolts. A
pig that ran about the deck, though unharmed, was so covered with blood,
that the sailors threw it overboard, swearing it would be rank
cannibalism to eat it. A goat, kept on board for her milk, had her legs
shot away, and was thrown into the sea.
The sailors who were killed were, according to the usual custom, ordered
to be thrown overboard as soon as they fell; for the sight of so many
corpses lying around might appall the survivors at the guns. A shot
entering one of the portholes cut down two-thirds of a gun's crew. The
captain of the next gun, dropping his lock string, which he had just
pulled, turned over the heap of bodies to see who they were; when,
perceiving an old messmate, who had sailed with him in many cruises, he
burst into tears, and, taking the corpse up in his arms and going with
it to the side, he held it over the water a moment, gazed on the silent
pale face and cried:
"Oh, God! Tom--Tom, has it come to this at last----"
"D--n your prayers! over with that thing! overboard with it and down to
your gun!" roared a wounded lieutenant. The order was obeyed, and the
heart-stricken sailor returned to his post.
At last, having lost her fore and maintopmasts, her mizzenmast having
been shot away to the deck, and her foreyard lying in two pieces on her
shattered forecastle, having been hulled in a hundred places with round
shot, the _Macedonian_ was reduced to the last extremity. Captain Garden
ordered his signal quarter-master to strike the flag.
Never did Sukey hear a command with greater joy. Never was a sailor so
happy at being defeated. When the order was given to strike the flag,
one of Captain Garden's officers, a man hated by the seamen for his
tyranny, howled the most terrific remonstrances, and swore he would
rather sink alongside than surrender. Had he been captain, probably he
would have done so.
Sukey and Tawney were among the boat's crew which rowed Captain Garden
to the enemy. As, he touched the deck, Captain Garden saluted his
captor, Captain Decatur, and offered him his sword; but it was
courteously declined. The victor remembered the dinner parties he and
Captain Garden had enjoyed in Norfolk, previous to the breaking out of
hostilities, and while both were in command of the very frigates now
crippled on the sea. The _Macedonian_ had gone into Norfolk with
despatches; while Decatur was in that port. Then they had laughed and
joked over their wine, and a wager of a beaver hat was said to have been
made between them upon the event of the hostile meeting of their ships.
This was their next meeting. Sukey and Tawney went home in the American
frigate _United States_. With Sukey's return to his native country, the
reader's interest in the naval operations perhaps ceases. Naval battles
are the same, bloody and desperate, and the details of the fight with
the _Macedonian_ are the details of all others. After briefly noticing
the principal victories and defeats on sea, we shall take up again the
characters in our story.
On November 22d, the United States brig _Vixen_ was captured by the
English frigate _Southampton,_ and both were subsequently shipwrecked
on December 29th, the United States frigate _Constitution_, under
Commodore Bainbridge, captured the British frigate _Java_, off the coast
of Brazil. The American loss was 44 and the British 151. The American
victories of the year of 1812 with such little loss produced much
exultation in America and surprise and mortification in England.
American seamen had been the greatest sufferers at the hands of the
British, and they had long burned to avenge the insults of the English
Navy. They fought for patriotism, glory and vengeance.
The year 1813 was noted for the continued success of the American Navy.
On February 24th, the _Hornet_ captured the British brig _Peacock_ on
the coast of South America. On June 1st, the British frigate _Shannon_
captured the _Chesapeake_ after a terrible battle, in which the
Americans lost 133 and the British half as many. Captain Lawrence of the
_Chesapeake_ was mortally wounded, and his dying command, "Don't give up
the ship!" has been the motto for many worthy enterprises.
In August, Captain Porter, with the American frigate _Essex_, cruising
in the Pacific Ocean, captured twelve armed British whalers. In the same
month, the American sloop-of-war _Argus_, cruising in the English
channel, captured twenty-one British merchantmen, but on the 13th was
herself captured by the British man-of-war _Pelican_ after a severe
engagement. On the 3d of September, the American brig _Enterprise_
captured the British _Boxer_ off the coast of Maine. Perry's victory on
Lake Erie, which occurred on the 10th of this month, has already
been noticed.
The year 1814 was not a line of unbroken success, though American
victories were many and brilliant. On the 28th of March, the brilliant
career of the United States frigate _Essex_, in the Pacific Ocean, was
terminated by her capture by two British war vessels at Valparaiso. On
April 21st, the United States sloop-of-war _Frolic_ was captured by the
British frigate _Orpheus_. On the 27th of the same month, the United
States sloop-of-war _Peacock_ captured the British brig-of-war
_Epervier_ with $118,000 in specie on board. On June 9th, the United
States sloop-of-war _Rattlesnake_ was captured by a British man-of-war.
This reverse was followed by the loss of the United States sloop _Syren_
on the 12th. On the 28th, the American sloop _Wasp_ captured the British
sloop _Reindeer_, in the British channel. On the 1st of September, the
_Wasp_ captured the British sloop _Avon_, and after taking three other
prizes, this remarkably successful vessel mysteriously disappeared. Her
fate was never known, though it is supposed she was lost at sea.
On January 15, 1815, the United States frigate _President_ was captured
by four English vessels. On the 28th of February, although peace was
declared, the United States frigate _Constitution_ captured two British
vessels of war, off the island of Madeira. In March, the United States
frigate _Hornet_ captured the British brig _Penguin_, off the coast
of Brazil.
The last hostile act at sea took place in the Straits of Sunda, in the
East Indies, where the United States brig-of-war _Peacock_ captured the
_Nautilus_, a British sloop-of-war. The three American vessels at sea
when the war closed each came home crowned with laurels. The part taken
by the American privateers during the war was considerable and a
detailed history of them would fill a volume larger than this. During
the war there were I,750 British vessels captured, against a loss of
I,683 American ships. The spirit and energy of the American seamen,
under all their embarrassments, gave an unmistakable indication of the
future greatness of the power of the United States Navy.
On the first night after Sukey and Terrence joined Fernando, the three
sat about the bivouac fire, while all save the sentries slept, talking
over the past which, to Fernando, seemed like a troubled dream.
"Did either of you ever meet Captain Snipes?" asked Fernando.
"Bad luck to him, I did not," said Terrence. "It's bad it would have
fared with the spalpeen if I had."
At mention of Captain Snipes, there came an expression over Sukey's face
which is indescribable. His face grew pale, and his brow contracted, his
teeth set, and his eyes seemed to have the glitter of steel, while he
shrugged his shoulders, as if he again felt the cat-o'-nine-tails
about them.
"Did he never come aboard the _Macedonian_ again?" asked Fernando.
"No."
"Did you hear of him?"
"Yes."
"Where was he?"
"He was transferred to the _Xenophon_."
"The _Xenophon_? was not Lieutenant Matson in command of that vessel?"
"For awhile."
"Was he not promoted?"
"No; it seems his affair with you got to England."
"Just in time to spoil a nate little promotion, too," put in Terrence.
"I heard all about it from the captain of the merchantman I captured. He
told me when we were playing poker one night."
Fernando looked sadly into the smouldering bivouac and heaved a sigh.
Almost five years had elapsed since he had seen Morgianna, and he had
not heard a word from her since he left her in the great stone house on
the hill that night,--she laughing at his misery.
After a long silence Fernando asked:
"Is he married?"
"Who?" asked Sukey.
"Faith, the captain's absent minded," put in Terrence.
"I mean Lieutenant Matson."
"Not as I know of."
"Did you see him after we left Mariana?"
"Yes."
"When?"
"Only six days before we were captured by Decatur. We touched at the
Canary Islands, and the _Xenophon_ was there. He came aboard our
vessel."
"Did he recognize you?"
"No," Sukey answered. "Had he known me he wouldn't a-talked with a
common sailor."
"Was he married then?"
"No; I heard him tell Captain Garden that he was still single."
Fernando heaved another sigh and asked:
"Did he say--did he say anything about her?"
"Who?"
Fernando heaved another sigh and asked:
"Did he say--did he say anything about her?'7
"Who?"
The conversation was not interesting to Terrence and he had gone to
another part of the camp, to engage in a game of cards with a sentry.
"Morgianna," Fernando said.
"Morgianna? no--she is the girl at Mariana, isn't she?"
"Yes."
"I didn't hear him mention her name."
"They are not married yet?"
"No."
"Perhaps I was mistaken after all," said Fernando thoughtfully. "May be
she don't care for him."
Then Fernando sighed again and gazed into the smouldering fire. After
several minutes more, he said:
"Sukey, she must be in love with him."
"I thought so."
Fernando sighed and remarked:
"She may have married some one else, though."
"No, she ain't."
"Have you heard of her?"
"I saw her!" Sukey declared.
"When?"
"When I was in Baltimore last winter."
"Did you talk with her, Sukey?"
"No."
"Then how did you know she was not married?"
"When I was in Baltimore last winter."
"Did you talk with her, Sukey?"
"No."
"Then how did you know she was not married?"
"I was in a store and overheard two women who knew her gossiping. One
asked the other if Morgianna Lane was married yet. One said:
"'I thought she would marry the English lieutenant.'
"The other said:
"'No, not yet. I suppose they are waiting till the war is over.'
"'Has she no other lover?' asked the other. Then the other woman said
she believed not, at least none ever came to see her."
Fernando was quite sure she must have lovers by the score. Such a
glorious woman as Morgianna could not but have an abundance to
choose from.
"You saw Morgianna, Sukey, how did she look?"
"Just as when we left. Not a day older."
"You knew her at sight?"
"Of course; but she didn't know me. I suspect I was a hard-looking case
then; for I had just come from the ship and had on my English
pea-jacket, and my linen was not the cleanest."
Fernando sat silent for such a long time, that Sukey, who was tired,
nodded awhile in silence, then, rolling up in his blanket, lay down
under a tree and slept. Fernando still sat gazing into the fire and
saying to himself:
"Oh, if it could have been, if it could have been!"
A young woman does a rash thing when she rejects such a warm, manly
heart as that of Fernando Stevens. Not all men are capable of such
unselfish devotion as his, and Morgianna little dreamed how much she was
casting aside.
He was still gazing into the smouldering fire, when Terrence, who had
won all the money from the soldier with whom he was playing cards, came
to him and said:
"Captain, are ye goin' to spend the night gazing into the fire?"
"No, Terrence; I am not sleepy; but I will lie down."
"Captain, do ye remember the little girl at Mariana five years ago, the
one yersilf and the Englishman were about to break heads over?"
"You mean Morgianna Lane, Terrence?"
"To be sure I do. I saw the swate craythur not two months since."
Fernando, who was anything but sleepy, asked:
"Where did you see her, Terrence?"
"In Baltimore. She is prettier than whin you used to stroll over the
beach in the moonlight with her."
"Is she married?"
"Divil a bit. I talked with her, and, d'ye belave me, almost the first
question she asked me was about yersilf. Aye, Fernando, it was a grand
story I told her about ye making a hero of yersilf. I told her how ye
defeated Tecumseh and killed the thief with yer own hand, and how ye
conquered at Chippewa and Lundy's Lane."
Fernando's heart gave a tremendous bound. Had she really asked about
him? Then she had not forgotten him in five long years. Could this be
true? Terrence had not the strictest regard for truth, and he might be
only telling this out of mischief.
"Terrence, are you telling me the truth?" he asked.
"Ivery blissid word of it is the gospel truth, me frind," Terrence
answered. "The little girl still lives at the village beyant Baltimore,
and if ye want her, ye kin win her."
"Terrence, you are trifling with me; Morgianna cares nothing for me."
"Don't ye belave it. If she didn't, why did she ask about ye the very
first chance she had? Me boy, whin a girl remembers a fellow after five
years, it's some sign. Now if ye want that blushin' damsel, lave it
all to me."
"Terrence, let us go to sleep, we have a hard march before us
to-morrow."
"I take it at yer word, captain."
In less than ten minutes the light-hearted Irishman was buried in
slumber.