A CONSPIRACY, AND HOW IT WAS DEFEATED.--ANOTHER PRIZE.--VIEWS ON
PRIVATEERING.--A CARTEL.--IN THE JAWS OF A BRITISH MAN-OF-WAR.
The reasons that the men gave for wishing to swear allegiance to the
American flag and be released from confinement in the hold were simple
and plausible enough. They wanted to become American citizens, had
intended to do so at the first opportunity, and now that there was war
between the two countries, they would like a chance for prize-money.
It struck me as a little odd that they were all Englishmen; had there
been an Irishman or two among them it would have been less suspicious,
as a goodly portion of the inhabitants of the Emerald Isle entertained
feelings for the British flag which were anything but respectful. But
the four were English; and so, according to Haines, were all the others
who had manifested their willingness to throw off British allegiance,
become citizens of the new republic of the Western world, and take up
arms against the country of their birth.
I told them I would consider their proposal, and let them know later
in the day. Meanwhile, they were to give Haines a list of such as were
willing to join them in becoming Americans, and he would report it to
me.
Two or three hours later Haines brought me the names of twelve
Englishmen who were ready to declare war against their native land, and
on the conditions already stated. I told him to bring to my cabin four
of these men, some I had not yet seen, and while I was busy talking
with them, to suddenly ask me to come on deck for a moment. While he
was gone I shut up in the linen-locker, just off the cabin, a bright
young boy from Maine, named Tom Foster, with orders to keep as quiet
as a mouse, and take in all the conversation during my absence. He was
just fairly stowed away when Haines came with the men.
I talked with them as I did with the others, and was giving them
the impression that their request would be granted, when we were
interrupted by Haines, who appeared and said,--
"Will you please come on deck for a few moments, sir?"
I told the men I would be back again in five or ten minutes, and then
left them.
When I returned, having been gone fully ten minutes, the men were in
the attitude of waiting, and did not appear as though they had spoken
a word during my absence. I talked with them a little while longer and
then sent them forward with the same answer I had given the others.
When they were gone I released Tom from his confinement; he came out
very red and hot from the bad air that he was obliged to breathe in the
poorly ventilated locker, and it was a minute at the least before he
could speak coherently.
"Soon as you was gone, sir," said Tom, "they tried the doors and looked
into all the rooms, to make sure nobody could hear what they said. They
weren't suspicious of the linen-locker bein' fastened, as it wasn't a
place for a man to be shut up in, and was even a tight fit for such a
little fellow as me.
"Then one of 'em says to the others, 'It's all right, mates, and we'll
have this Yankee schooner afore to-morrow morning. The captain is goin'
to let us out to swear allegiance to his blarsted flag, and when we're
out we'll show him a trick he won't understand till it's too late.'
"Then another of 'em says, 'The Yankee'll think he's gone crazy when he
finds himself a-goin' into Halifax with the British flag atop of his
own, won't he, Bill?'
"'Ay, that he will,' says Bill; and then they said something I couldn't
understand, they spoke so low; and after that 'twasn't long before you
came back to talk with 'em, sir."
Thus was their plot revealed, and it was just as I had suspected. A
portion of the crew would get the liberty of the deck in the manner
indicated; then, at a moment agreed upon and understood by the rest of
their party, the deck-watch would be overpowered, and simultaneously
the hatches were to be opened, and those below would come pouring out
to aid in the execution of the plot.
"Keep your mouth shut, Tommy," I said to the boy, "and don't breathe a
word of this to anybody. Now go and tell Mr. Haines I want to see him."
When Haines came, I told him to say to the prisoners who had proposed
to become Americans, that they could do so as soon as we reached
New York, or any other port of the United States. I would keep the
list they had given me, and hand it over to the proper authorities
immediately after our arrival.
Then I instructed Haines to maintain the utmost vigilance, as there was
a plot to capture the schooner; but he must not let the prisoners know
that anything was suspected.
"Ay, ay, sir!" said the old sailor, as he went away to execute his
orders. I felt that it could be safely said that there was little
opportunity for our prisoners to carry out their scheme as long as they
were on board the Marguerite and Haines was looking after them.
A little past noon a sail was reported on the lee bow. We changed our
course at once, and ran down to her. She did not try to get away from
us, and her captain was very much surprised when he found out that
there was war between Great Britain and the United States. He had
believed that it was impossible to "kick the Yankees into war;" they
had endured so many insults at the hands of the British, he thought
they would go on the same way forever.
"You know the old adage about the last straw that breaks the camel's
back, do you not?" I asked, when he paused.
"Certainly I do," he answered; "and I suppose you found the last straw
before you made up your minds to fight. Great Britain would not have
endured for a day what you've been putting up with for years; and I've
heard English officers say so more than once. But do you think this
privateering business is right?"
"Of course I do, or I wouldn't be in it."
"I don't think it right," he answered, "and I'll tell you why. It is
nothing more than piracy, and all captures ought to be made by regular
ships-of-war. That's my opinion."
"What difference does it make," I retorted, "whether your vessel is a
prize to a seventy-four-gun man-of-war, or a privateer like this? You
lose it in either case, and that's all there is about it. Armies are
formed of, and navies are manned by, individuals; and what difference
does it make as to their way of fighting, as long as they fight? Peace
is brought about by the distress of the people of the nations at war,
and a nation is made up of individuals, no matter whether it be a
republic or a kingdom. My idea is, that when two commercial countries
are at war, they should give every encouragement to private parties to
capture as many of the enemy's ships as possible, and bring the war to
an end much sooner."
"That may be all right from your point of view," he answered, "but it
isn't from mine. Great Britain has more than a thousand ships-of-war
in her navy, and you haven't more than twenty. It costs our nation
a vast deal of money to keep a thousand ships in service, and this
privateering doesn't cost your government anything. You keep a navy of
no account whatever in time of peace, but when war comes you turn every
mud-scow into a privateer, and send her out to capture British ships. I
insist that it isn't fair!"
I thought I would let him have the last word, and so changed the
subject of the conversation. His vessel was a brig of about three
hundred tons burden, and loaded with goods for the Canadian market;
it was a very fair prize for us, but far from equal in value to the
Camperdown.
The crew of the brig was transferred to the Marguerite, and placed in
the hold with the prisoners already there. I put Haines in command,
with a prize-crew, with orders to make the best possible way to New
York; with Haines I sent a young fellow named Jackson, who had shipped
as an able seaman, but was capable of filling a higher position, as he
had been on the sea some eight or ten years, understood navigation, and
could work out a ship's position as well as the next man. I promised
him promotion as soon as there was a place for him; and in return he
declared he would give a good account of himself on the voyage to New
York.
The next morning we overhauled a fishing-schooner. She had just come
out of one of the Canadian ports, and had only caught a few barrels
of fish before we came upon her. What she had on board was of little
account in the way of a prize, and the vessel was old, and not the most
seaworthy craft in the world. As we were inconveniently crowded with
prisoners, I decided to convert the fishing-schooner into a cartel,
and send her into Halifax. She answered the conditions of a cartel, or
what the French call a _bâtiment parlementaire_, as she had no cargo,
ammunition, or implement of war on board, and could not possibly do any
harm.
As quickly as it could be done I had the prisoners transferred to the
fisherman. We were careful not to have many of them on deck at once;
and if they had made plans for an uprising during the confusion of the
transfer, there was no opportunity to carry them out. We took on board
most of the fish we found on the schooner, and left her a fair supply
of salt provisions, together with all the fish contained in that part
of the ocean. The vessel was a dull sailer; and this was all the better
for my purpose, as I didn't want her to reach Halifax in a hurry. The
prisoners were glad enough at the prospect of thus being liberated,
with the possible exception of some of those who meditated the capture
of the Marguerite, and her conversion into a prize for themselves.
After dropping the fishing-schooner we steered away to the East, and
were lucky enough the next morning to make prize of another British
vessel, a bark of about four hundred tons, and containing a valuable
cargo of military and naval stores. She was a chartered transport;
that is, she was a private craft, employed by the British authorities
for conveying government property, and she carried ten or twelve
passengers, all of them officers in his Majesty's service, or their
families.
I treated these passengers in the same way I did those of the
Camperdown, allowing them to remain on board on condition of giving
their parole not to countenance any movement for the recapture of
the vessel. The crew was transferred to the Marguerite, and when
the prize-crew under my first mate went on board the stranger, I
found myself without a commissioned officer on board, and decidedly
short-handed. So I decided to accompany the prize to New York, and give
up looking for any more of the enemy's ships; if anything fell in my
way I would attend to it, but as for continuing on the aggressive, and
going farther from port, I was in no condition to do so.
It was arranged that the two vessels were to keep close together,
unless separated by bad weather, in which case the prize would steer as
straight as possible for port, and I would do likewise.
All went well with us until we sighted the coast of Long Island, forty
or fifty miles from New York. We had seen several sail, but too far
away to make them out distinctly; they had not sought to make our
acquaintance, and we had avoided theirs, as there would have been a
loss of time in trying to speak to them, and the chances were that they
would be of our own nationality, and therefore valueless as prizes.
Soon after we sighted the coast, which lay like a low cloud on
the horizon, a large vessel loomed up ahead of us. I scanned her
anxiously, as there was a strong possibility that she was something I
didn't want to meet just then.
She might be American, and she might be British; the possibilities were
that she was British, as there was a British man-of-war on the coast
at the time war was declared, and she was large enough to carry not
fewer than forty guns. Very plainly, she would make short work of the
Marguerite if we ventured within her reach.
The strange ship was right on the track we wished to follow, and under
shortened sail, as though waiting for us. I signaled my prize that I
wanted to speak her. We drew closer together, at the same time holding
to our course, but ready to change as soon as we should find that the
stranger was a British man-of-war.
I had no fear of being overhauled in the Marguerite, as she was a very
fast sailer, and could show her heels to any English frigate afloat;
but there was much doubt as to the ability of my prize to keep out of
harm's way. Therefore I decided that while I would keep the schooner on
for New York, it would be best to make sure of the safety of the prize
by sending her elsewhere.
When she was within hailing distance, I gave orders for her to go
around the eastern end of Long Island, and make for New York that
way, or for one of the ports on the sound. "Go into Stonington or New
London," I said, "if you must; but if you find it all safe to keep on
through the Sound and reach New York by the East River, do so by all
means. Make New York if you can; but if not, go into a port on the
Sound and wait for orders."
The prize filled away to the eastward as soon as my commands had been
received; I kept on in the direction of New York, gradually hauling
away from the land in order to give the stranger a wide berth, and also
to see if he would follow me.
He followed, or, rather, he changed his course, so as to bring him
within range, and that was just what I intended he should not do. There
was a good breeze blowing from the south-west. I ran to the south-east,
so as to bring the wind just abeam, and in this way keep out of the way
of the strange vessel, and also showed him what the Marguerite could
do in the way of sailing. We put on all the canvas she could carry;
and she lay over so that her gun ports on the lee side were awash very
often.
We held on till darkness hid pursuer and pursued from each other. Just
after nightfall the wind shifted to the south-east, and this gave
me what I wanted for running to New York. So I changed my course,
endeavoring, as nearly as I could calculate, to hit the entrance
of the harbor about daybreak. What my pursuer would do I could only
conjecture; in an emergency of this sort the best plan always is
to think carefully what you would do under the circumstances, and
following this plan, I reasoned about like this:--
"I am trying to cut off and capture a fast sailing schooner which is
trying to get into New York. My ship is powerful enough to blow her
out of the water in five minutes if it could only get in range of the
schooner, but she can sail faster than I can, and it is no use to run
after her. She'll probably try to run in under cover of the night. I'll
go in as near as I can to the shore, and watch for her there."
Reasoning in this way I made up my mind that the frigate, or whatever
else she was, would be lying off the coast of Long Island, near the
entrance of the harbor. What I wanted was to get close in before the
first streaks of day, else I might have to run under the guns of the
Britisher while going inside.
The wind fell a little towards morning, and, what added to my
annoyance, a mist spread over the water, so that it was impossible to
see far in any direction. So I had to feel my way along; and as soon
as we reached soundings I kept the lead going constantly. For the
last two hours before daylight I felt entirely certain of my position.
We were running along near the Jersey coast in the direction of Sandy
Hook, and if no accident happened we would get inside before the enemy
could discover us.
The first streaks of dawn were just visible in the east when the
soundings showed that we were shoaling rapidly, and it was necessary
to haul over to the north-west. While we were doing so the mist on our
starboard began to lift a little and show what was behind it. And the
first object that it revealed was not by any means a welcome sight.
Five or six hundred yards away, our pursuer of the previous day was
lying with her broadside towards us, and her guns out; we were just
about abeam of her when we made the discovery, and at once I gave
orders to hold more to the westward again. It is better, I thought, to
risk taking the ground than the shot of the fellow that is ready to
pour it into us. We may get ashore and get off again; but it will be
all up with us if he once has us within short range of his guns.
Being smaller than the other vessel, and also probably from not being
between him and the sun, it was some minutes after we saw him before
he saw us. He sent a shot across our bow, and another and another
directly at us, but fortunately we were not struck. In all he must have
fired fifteen or twenty shots, not one of them reaching us.
All the time we were forging ahead where he did not try to follow,
partly because he was so near the land as to be almost within range of
the defenses that had been hastily thrown up at the entrance of the
harbor, and partly because we would be far out of the way before he
could get in motion. His only hope was to cripple us by a fortunate
shot, and then he would send his boats to carry us by boarding.