Transcriber's Notes:
Italic text is denoted by _underscores_ and bold text by
=equal signs=.
Small uppercase have been replaced with regular uppercase.
Blank pages have been eliminated.
Variations in spelling and hyphenation have been left as in the
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[Illustration: MY MOTHER BROKE DOWN AND CRIED. Page 19.]
CAPTAIN JOHN CRANE
1800-1815
BY
THOMAS W. KNOX
AUTHOR OF "A CLOSE SHAVE," "THE TALKING HANDKERCHIEF," "THE LOST
ARMY," "DECISIVE BATTLES SINCE WATERLOO," "THE BOY TRAVELLERS"
(15 VOLUMES), "THE YOUNG NIMRODS" (3 VOLUMES), ETC., ETC.
_ILLUSTRATED_
[Illustration]
NEW YORK
THE MERRIAM COMPANY
67 FIFTH AVENUE
COPYRIGHT, 1895,
BY THE MERRIAM COMPANY.
TYPOGRAPHY BY C. J. PETERS & SON,
BOSTON, U.S.A.
CONTENTS
PAGE
CHAPTER I. Who and What I am.--My Early Life.--Leaving Home,
and Why I left It. 7
CHAPTER II. Walking to Boston.--Suspected to be
Runaways.--Find a Ship and Sign Articles. 21
CHAPTER III. Departure from Boston.--Out at Sea.--What
happened to Me.--Meeting a Stranger. 35
CHAPTER IV. Overhauled by a British War-Ship.--Search for
Deserters.--The Captain plays a Yankee Trick. 48
CHAPTER V. The Flying Dutchman and His History.--Meeting a
Ship with a Starving Crew.--Relief and Sailing in Company. 64
CHAPTER VI. In Danger from a Waterspout.--Caught in a
Gale.--Separated from Our Consort.--A Ghost on the Washington. 78
CHAPTER VII. The Ghosts and How They were laid.--Admiral
Hosier's Ghost.--The Warwick Again.--Encountering an Algerian
Pirate. 92
CHAPTER VIII. A Congreve Rocket among Algerine
Pirates.--Arrival at Gibraltar.--Arrested and in Prison. 105
CHAPTER IX. Trouble between the United States and
Algiers.--The War with France.--What our Navy did.--From
Gibraltar to Marseilles. 120
CHAPTER X. Escorted beyond Danger.--Daily Work on
Shipboard.--We save a Boatful of Castaways.--How We found
Them. 135
CHAPTER XI. How the Evelyn was lost.--I am transferred from
Forecastle to Cabin.--Our Passengers.--Arrival at Boston. 150
CHAPTER XII. A Voyage to China.--Crossing the Line.--Malay
Pirates.--Whampoa Anchorage.--More Troubles with Great
Britain. 165
CHAPTER XIII. David and I visit Our Old Home.--Return to
Boston, and Meet Bill and Joe.--Bill's Adventure on the
Chesapeake.--An "Unlucky" Ship. 181
CHAPTER XIV. The Chesapeake and the Shannon.--Another Voyage
to China.--More about Impressment.--I become a Captain and
receive Orders. 195
CHAPTER XV. Fitting for Sea.--War Declared.--Out on a
Cruise.--My First Prize.--Old Friends. 209
CHAPTER XVI. A Conspiracy, and How It was defeated.--Another
Prize.--Views of Privateering.--A Cartel.--In the Jaws of a
British Man-of-War. 224
CHAPTER XVII. Safe Return to New York.--Offer of a New
Ship.--My Friends the Grahams.--Off Again.--The Constitution's
Escape and Mine. 238
CHAPTER XVIII. Destruction of the Guerrière by the
Constitution.--Captain Hull's Wager.--How I tricked a British
Captain.--David's Ruse.--Fortune Frowns. 252
CHAPTER XIX. Escaping from a British Fleet.--Destruction of
the Marguerite.--Captured by an Old Acquaintance.--Prisoner at
Plymouth and Dartmoor. 266
CHAPTER XX. Prison Life at Dartmoor.--Reminiscences of
Privateering.--Achievements of the Rossie, Highflier, Governor
Tompkins, and Others.--I am summoned to the Captain's Office. 280
CHAPTER XXI. Released on Parole.--Go to Portsmouth.--Old
Friends.--Declaration of Peace.--Return to America.--Wedding
Bells.--The End. 294
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
My Mother broke down and cried. _Frontispiece._
The Officer walked slowly Along in Front of
Them. _Facing Page_ 49
The Sight That met His Eyes was a Terrible One. " " 65
He brought His Glass to bear Upon the Object. " " 113
"This is Jack Crane," said Captain Dawson. " " 145
He was just fairly stowed away When Haines came. " " 193
The Crew hauled away on the Rope. " " 241
"Are You John Crane, Captain of the Late
Privateer Marguerite?" " " 289
CAPTAIN JOHN CRANE.
CHAPTER I.
WHO AND WHAT I AM.--MY EARLY LIFE.--LEAVING HOME, AND WHY I LEFT IT.
I am a modest, bashful sort of man, though I say it myself, and have
been a sailor for a goodly number of years. Perhaps on board a ship
I am not so bashful, and especially when in command of her. I don't
feel altogether at home on shore, although I've given up the sea, and
propose to spend the rest of my life on land. I was born on the 25th of
November, 1783, the day of the evacuation of the city of New York by
the British, at the end of the Revolutionary War.
It is proper to say that my arrival into the United States (and the
world) on that day attracted much less attention throughout the country
than did the departure of our enemies, but there's nothing surprising
in that. I suppose you might have found, a few years ago, a good many
people throughout these United States who were born on the same day as
George Washington; but they haven't attracted any attention, while he
has filled the eyes of the world. At any rate, he filled the stomachs
of the British with all the fighting they wanted when they came here to
subjugate the colonies.
My name is John Crane, or, rather, Captain Crane, at your service.
I am, or rather was, a sea-captain, and for a pretty fair time too.
People keep on calling me "Captain," although I've given up sea life
and settled down on shore. But that's the way of things generally;
which, after all, isn't so bad. If a man has done something and won a
handle to his name, I think it is fair to let him keep it, and so I
never correct folks when they call me Captain Crane. But when I sign
a paper of any sort, no matter whether it's a letter to anybody or a
legal document, I always write "John Crane," and nothing more. I never
stick Captain on in front of it, as some do that I know.
Since I settled down on land I've told a good many of my experiences
to neighbors and friends, and they've urged me to write a book. I've
hesitated a good while about it,--there's where my bashfulness comes
in,--but, after all, I don't see why I shouldn't do as others have
done. There's many a book on sea life by men who have never been on
blue water a tenth part as much as I've been there.
I can't spell very well, that was always a weak point with me; but I'll
leave it to the printer to correct my spelling, and also my grammar,
if I slip up in it. I never had a chance for much schooling; I had a
little of the three R's, Reading, 'Riting, and 'Rithmetic, but precious
little it was.
I was born among the hills of New Hampshire, in the township of
Pembroke, about fifty miles from Portsmouth, a seaport of that State,
and sixty or seventy miles from Boston.
As my birth occurred on what we may consider the last day of the War
for Independence, I can't be supposed to remember anything about it of
my own knowledge, but my earliest recollections are very much concerned
with it. It was the great topic of conversation among the people in
the region where I lived. My father, and nearly every other man in
the neighborhood, had fought in the Continental Army, and they were
very fond of "fighting their battles o'er again" in front of their
firesides. My father was a soldier from the beginning of the war until
1777, when he was badly wounded and came home. It was late in 1778 when
he recovered, but he wasn't able to go back to the army again. So he
married, and you'll know about his family farther on.
My early life was one of hardship. My parents had a small farm which
we cultivated,--father and mother, and three brothers of us,--with our
own hands. In fact, we could not well do otherwise, as we were too poor
to hire any help. When he was twenty-one years old, James, my eldest
brother, left home, went to a neighboring town, where he hired out with
a farmer, and in less than a year was married to the farmer's daughter.
Luckily for him, his wife's father had a good-sized farm, and she was
an only child. So it happened that the newly married pair settled down
on the farm to take care of the old folks; and in due time, when they
were gathered to their fathers, my brother and his wife fell into
possession of the farm and the property connected with it.
My second brother followed the example of the first, except that he
did not marry a farm along with his girl. I was seventeen years old at
the time he became engaged. Months, yes, I may say years, before this
event, I had thought and dreamed about going to sea. Neither of my
brothers cared for it, but I believe I was a born sailor if there ever
was one. I longed to look upon the ocean and sail upon it, and felt
that I would gladly pass the whole of my life on the waters. I read all
that I could find about it; but I'm sorry to say that books were scarce
in our neighborhood, and opportunities for reading were very small. I
was greatly impressed by various passages in the Bible referring to
the sea, especially the one in the Psalms which reads,--
"They that go down to the sea in ships, that do business in great
waters; these see the works of the Lord and His wonders in the
deep."
So, when the family was talking about my second brother's future
prospects, I suggested that it was time for me to be doing something,
and if father and mother consented, I would go to sea. There was some
objection at first; but finally it was agreed and settled upon that my
second brother should bring his bride to the house, and the twain would
live there and care for the old folks, just as my elder brother and his
wife were caring for her parents, while I would go to sea.
Then the question arose, "Should I go from Portsmouth or from Boston?"
It was finally decided that as Boston was the larger place, and had a
greater amount of shipping than Portsmouth, I had better go to Boston,
and sail from there.
It was along in winter when this decision was reached. My departure
was deferred until spring, not that there was very much for me to do
at home in that season of the year, but because the traveling would be
very bad when the roads were covered with snow and the weather cold.
As the time approached for me to leave home I began to feel reluctant
at going away. One day I was talking with David Taylor, one of my
friends and schoolmates, at least he was my schoolmate for eight or ten
weeks every year, and about my own age.
When I told him I was going to sea he jumped at the idea, and said he
would like to go too; like myself, he had thought and dreamed about
the ocean, and nothing would suit him better than sailing over it.
He said he would speak to his father that very evening, and try and
get his consent. The Taylor family was situated very much like mine,
and I thought it quite likely that David would have no difficulty in
obtaining the paternal permission.
The next morning, when we met at school, David shook his head, and
said,--
"I'm afraid I can't go with you, John. I spoke to father last night,
and what do you think he said?"
"From the way you talk, David," said I, "I suppose he wouldn't listen
to your going to sea."
"Yes, that's it exactly. He said I had better stay at home, and if
there wasn't room for me on the farm I could hire out among the
neighbors. 'There's Major M'Clary,' said he, 'who has a big farm, and
hires half a dozen hands most of the time, and a dozen of them in
haying-time. You can hire out with him, I know. I fought under him at
Bunker Hill, and I know he'd be willing to help along a son of mine.'"
"Well," I answered, "what did you say to that?"
"I told him I didn't want to hire out as a farm hand, and possibly be
a hired man all my life. I'd rather go away and try to do something in
the world, and I believed there was a chance for me if I'd only try it."
"We didn't have a very long talk about it," continued David; "but at
the end of what we had to say father remarked that he would think it
over, and perhaps would see Mr. Crane and talk with him about it."
"That's all right, David," I said, "that's all right. If Mr. Taylor
has consented to think it over and talk with my father, I'm pretty
sure that you'll go with me in the spring. I haven't seen much of the
world, and don't know many folks in it; but when a man is willing to
consider a thing, and talk about it with somebody else who has already
considered it, it shows that he's a reasonable being, and I feel sure
my father will make Mr. Taylor understand that it will be better for
you to go out into the world than stay here at home. There are already
too many mouths to feed in your family, and you'll have to go away from
home very soon, anyway."
Then I told David some of the things I had read about the sea and a
sailor's life. I told him particularly of the prize money that was
obtained whenever a ship-of-war captured an enemy's vessel. Then I
spoke of the wages that sailors obtained, especially after they got
to be mates and captains; in fact, I dwelt a good deal more on the
captain's wages than I did on those of the mariner before the mast. I
had already said the same things to my father and mother, and that was
one of the reasons why they consented to my going to sea. My mother,
bless her loving heart! believed that her son would come home a captain
before the end of the year.
Ambitious as I was, I could not take her rosy view of the case, but I
did not undeceive her. My father was less sanguine; but of course he
was proud of his son, and believed I would succeed. A mother's love
and hopes are always far greater than a father's, but in saying this
I do not mean to cast any aspersion upon the head of our family. He
was affectionate to us all; and though he was severe at times, he was
always kind and just.
Well, it was not long before Mr. Taylor and his wife came to our house
and spent an evening. I was sent on a visit at Mr. Taylor's in order to
have me out of the way during the conference, and my brother Charles
went to call on the girl to whom he was engaged.
The evening was an anxious one for both David and myself, and the time
passed slowly. We tried to lay plans and talk of our future, but it
was very difficult to do this when we did not know whether David would
be permitted to accompany me or not. I went home at half-past eight
o'clock, the time agreed upon, and met David's father and mother about
half-way between our two houses.
I stopped and talked with them a moment, said that I had had a
pleasant visit at their house, and they in return said they had passed
an agreeable evening at my home. I hoped they would tell me what
decision had been reached, but they said not a word on the subject
that was uppermost in my heart. I had half a mind to ask them, but
concluded that it would be impertinent for me to do so. So I bade them
good-night, and proceeded on my way.
When I reached home my mother had gone to bed, and my father was just
going. With some hesitation I asked if it had been determined whether
David would go to sea or not.
"No," was the reply, "it hasn't yet been decided positively, as Mr.
Taylor said he must sleep on it. He would never decide anything of such
importance without sleeping on it at least one night."
"Do you think he will consent?" I asked.
"I hardly know what to say on that point," replied my father; "but
I think he will say yes when the time comes to decide. He is just as
sorry to have David go away from home as we are to have you go; but he
realizes that his farm is small, like ours, there are several mouths to
feed, and times are very hard. I think you may take it for granted that
David will go to sea with you, but don't be too certain about it."
With that my father bade me good-night, and I went away to my bed in
the garret. We boys slept up under the roof, for the reason that there
was no other convenient place for us to sleep in. The roof was so low
that we had to stoop, except directly under the ridge-pole, in order to
avoid hitting our heads. The place was hot in summer, but cool enough
in winter, as there were plenty of cracks to let in the air and cold.
In the place where I lay the roof was not more than two feet above me;
and many a night, when rain was falling, I have been lulled to sleep by
the pattering of the drops on the roof.
I did not see David the next day, as for some reason or other he did
not come to school. The second morning afterwards he was there bright
and early; and before he spoke I could see by the luster of his eye,
and the pleased expression on his face, that the decision had been
reached, and was in favor of what he wanted to do. As he rushed toward
me he said,--
"What do you suppose father told me this morning?"
"I don't suppose anything about it," said I; "I know that he gave his
permission for you to go to sea with me."
"Yes, that's it exactly," he replied; "but how did you find it out?"
"A little bird from the sky told me," I answered evasively; "never mind
how I found it out; I'll tell you sometime."
In the five or ten minutes that passed before the teacher arrived and
school was called to order, we talked as rapidly as our tongues would
permit. We had a great deal to say, and we said it quickly. It was the
same at the noon recess, when we strolled off together and indulged in
that boyish occupation of building castles in the air. In imagination
we went to sea together, as boys do in the story books; we did our duty
faithfully and zealously, and were rewarded by rapid promotion. In less
than three years we were both captains of ships, and regretted that
the United States did not possess a powerful navy, so that we might
both reach the grade of commodore or admiral before we had attained
the age of twenty-five. At least, that was David's view of the matter;
but I suggested to him that I never read of an admiral under fifty or
sixty years at least. This cooled his ardor somewhat, but by no means
discouraged him.
The winter wore on, and spring arrived in due time. Meanwhile, the
traveling outfits for David and myself were prepared. In our township
there were two or three women whose husbands were killed during the
Revolution, and who supported themselves by making clothing for men
and boys in cases where the garments could not be made by their wives
or mothers. Usually my mother made the clothing for my father and the
boys, and an economical method was pursued, a suit of clothes doing
duty through the whole masculine part of the family.
Father would have a new suit of homespun, and when it became a little
shabby it was made over for my brother James. After him it was made
over for my second brother Charles, and after Charles for myself.
Being the youngest, I was permitted to wear the suit out, and it was a
pretty bad looking lot of garments by the time I was through with it.
Sometimes I had a suit that had been made for Charles, but never do I
remember having a brand new one.
As I was going away from home it was deemed important that I should
have a specially good suit. Consequently, Mrs. Green was called in
to construct it, and I was very proud of the garments when they were
finished. It was the best suit of clothes I had ever possessed, and
I wore them to church every Sunday after their completion until my
departure. Extra stockings and an extra shirt completed my wardrobe;
and these, with the new suit of clothes, made a fairly good bundle,
which I was to carry on my shoulder. The last suit which brother
Charles had discarded was made over for me to wear on my journey, so
that when I was ready to leave home I presented quite a respectable
appearance.
When the time came for us to start it was a great pain for me to say
good-by to parents and brothers. I was anxious enough to go, and my
young head and heart were full of ambition and of high hopes for the
future. But at the same time I realized that I might be going away
never to return; and, though none of us said so, I'm sure that the same
thought was in every mind.
My mother broke down and cried when I kissed her farewell; my father
made a great effort to preserve his composure, but I could see the
tears standing in his eyes as he shook my hand and gave me his blessing
with a choked voice. I learned afterward that when I stepped out of
the door he yielded to his sorrow, as my mother had already done, and
sank speechless and almost fainting into a chair. It was practically
the same at David's house; yes, there was more grief there than at my
own home, as David had two sisters, while I had none. The girls were
very fond of their brother, and when the time came for him to bid them
good-by they were so heart-broken that they were unable to speak.
I am not ashamed to say that I cried, and bitterly too, when I left
my father's house. I said so to David before the day was out, and he
frankly acknowledged that he had cried too when he left home.
Mr. Taylor's house was nearer to Boston than was my father's; and so it
was agreed that David would watch for me on the morning when we were
to start, and come out and join me as I passed. You may wonder why I
did not go into the house to say good-by to the Taylor family. The fact
is, I foresaw that I might not be wanted there at that moment, and so
I called at David's house the evening before, partly to arrange our
plans, but more especially to say good-by to the Taylors. You already
understand that I was much attached to David, and I will add that I
was especially fond of his eldest sister, who was a year younger than
himself. To say good-by to her was no small effort for me, and I felt
that it would be better for us to make our adieus in the evening,
rather than in the morning, when the whole household would be plunged
in grief at David's departure.