A VERY good dinner was served on board the Dolphin that day, and on
leaving the table most of her passengers sought the deck again, for it
was a lovely evening, warm and clear.
The captain and Violet were sitting side by side on a settee, when
Elsie came to them with a wistful, inquiring look on her face that made
her father think she wanted something.
“What is it, my little daughter?” he asked, drawing her to a seat upon
his knee.
“If it wouldn’t be too much trouble for you to tell me about the War of
1812, papa, I should be glad to learn more about it,” she said.
“It will be no trouble for me to give my dear little girl as much
information as she may crave about it,” he answered, patting her cheek
affectionately. “But if you think the other children will care to hear
what I tell you, you may call them here before I begin.”
“Oh, yes, papa, I will,” she answered joyously, and hastened away in
search of them.
Her summons was obeyed by one and all, as if in expectation of a great
treat. They gathered about the captain and he began.
“We are now at peace with England; the two nations good friends, as
I hope and trust they may be always. But between the wars of the
Revolution and of 1812 this country was badly treated by that in more
ways than one. To tell you all about it would make much too long a
story for to-night. Lossing says of England in 1810 that she had seized
and confiscated the commercial property of American citizens to an
incalculable amount. She had contemptuously disregarded the neutrality
of the American territory, and the jurisdiction of the American laws
within the waters and harbors of the United States. She had at that
time impressed from the crews of American merchant vessels peaceably
navigating the high seas not less than six thousand mariners who
claimed to be citizens of the United States, and who were denied all
opportunity to verify their claims. I think it was in February, 1811,
that a richly laden American vessel bound for France was captured by a
British cruiser within thirty miles of New York City; and early in May
a British frigate stopped an American brig only eighteen miles from New
York and a young man, known to be a native of Maine, was taken from
her and impressed into the British service. Other such instances had
occurred, and often the men thus shamefully robbed of their freedom
were most cruelly treated.”
“How, papa?” asked Ned. “What did they do to them?”
“For refusing to work for their captors, especially after hearing of
the declaration of war in 1812; some American sailors were most cruelly
used; three who had been impressed on board the British vessel Peacock
refused to fight against their country and demanded to be treated as
prisoners of war. They were ordered to the quarter-deck, put in irons
for twenty-four hours, then taken to the gangway, stripped naked, tied
and whipped, each one dozen and a half, and put to duty.
“When the Peacock went into action with the Hornet, they asked the
captain to be sent below, that they might not fight against their
countrymen. The captain called a midshipman and told him to do his
duty, which was to hold a pistol to the head of Thompson and threaten
to blow his brains out if he and his companions did not do service.”
“How glad they must have been when the Hornet took the Peacock!”
exclaimed Eric.
“Yes, indeed! For they had certainly been very cruelly used by those
who had stolen them from American vessels,” said the captain. “And
there were others who received still more cruel treatment from them,
the robbers of the American seamen. It was no wonder that America was
roused to attempt a second war with Great Britain in order to stop
these dreadful outrages upon her people.”
“The navy did a great deal in that war, didn’t it, uncle?” asked Edward.
“Yes,” replied the captain; “they were more successful than the land
forces.”
“Oh, please tell us some of their doings!” cried several children’s
voices.
The captain mused a moment, then began.
“I will tell you some of the doings of Commodore Rodgers in his
favorite frigate, the President. After some unsuccessful efforts to
intercept vessels trading between the West Indies and Halifax, St.
Johns and Quebec, but finding none, he determined to try his fortune
in the North Sea in search of British merchantmen. But he did not meet
with a single vessel until he made the Shetland Islands, and there he
found only Danish ships trading to England. His supplies began to fail
and he went to North Bergen, in Norway, to replenish his stock. There
he was disappointed, too, for there was a great scarcity of food all
over the country and he could procure nothing but water.
“It seems he knew that a fleet of merchantmen were to sail from
Archangel in the middle of July. But just as he expected to make some
prizes from among them, he fell in with two British ships of war.
Knowing that he was not strong enough to battle with both at once,
Rodgers with his vessel fled, hotly pursued by the enemy. (At that
season in that northern region the sun is several degrees above the
horizon at midnight.) That enabled the vessels to keep up the chase
more than eighty hours, during which time they were much nearer the
President than was at all agreeable to her officers and men.”
“Oh, I hope they didn’t catch her!” exclaimed Elsie.
“No,” said her father, “she escaped from them. Her stock of provisions
had been replenished from two vessels that had been taken before the
war vessels had appeared, and now she turned westward to intercept
vessels coming out of and going into the Irish Channel.
“In the next six or seven days he (Rodgers) captured three vessels;
then he thought it best to change his course, as the enemy was in that
vicinity with a superior force. He made a complete circuit of Ireland,
then steered for the banks of Newfoundland, near which he made two
more captures. From these he learned that two British vessels, the
Bellerophon and Hyperion frigate, were only a few miles from him.
However, he did not fall in with them, and soon stood for the coast of
the United States.
“Toward evening on the 23d of September the President fell in with the
British armed schooner Highflyer, tender to Admiral Warren’s flagship
St. Domingo; she was commanded by Lieutenant Hutchinson; was a fine
vessel of her class—a fast sailer. When discovered she was six or
seven miles distant, but by a stratagem Commodore Rodgers decoyed her
alongside and captured her without firing a gun. She did not even
discover that the President was her enemy until the stratagem had
succeeded.
“Before starting upon this cruise Rodgers had placed in his possession
some of the British signals. He had had some made on board his ship,
and now he resolved to try their efficacy. He hoisted an English ensign
over the President. The Highflyer answered by displaying another, and
at the same time a signal from a mast-head.
“To Rodgers’s delight, he discovered that he possessed its complement.
He then signalled that his vessel was the Sea Horse, one of the largest
of its class known to be then on the American coast. The Highflyer at
once bore down, hove to under the stern of the President and received
one of Rodgers’s lieutenants on board, who was dressed in British
uniform. He bore an order from Rodgers for the commander of the
Highflyer to send his signal books on board to be altered, as some of
the Yankees, it was alleged, had obtained possession of some of them.
“The unsuspecting lieutenant obeyed, and Rodgers was put in possession
of the key to the whole correspondence of the British navy.
“Pretty soon the commander of the Highflyer followed his signal books.
He was pleased with everything he saw on board what he believed was
the English vessel Sea Horse, and admired even the scarlet uniform of
Rodgers’s marines, whom he took for British soldiers. Invited into the
cabin, he placed in the commodore’s hands a bundle of dispatches for
Admiral Warren, and informed his supposed friend that the main object
of the British commander on the American station at that time was
the capture or destruction of the President, which had been greatly
annoying and destroying British commerce and spreading alarm throughout
British waters.
“The commodore asked what kind of a man Rodgers was. ‘An odd fish and
hard to catch,’ replied the lieutenant.
“‘Sir,’ said Rodgers most emphatically, ‘do you know what vessel you
are on board of?’
“‘Why, yes,’ he replied; ‘on board His Majesty’s ship Sea Horse.’
“‘Then, sir, you labor under a mistake,’ said Rodgers. ‘You are on
board the United States frigate President, and I am Commodore Rodgers,
at your service.’”
“Oh, how frightened that British man must have been!” exclaimed Elsie.
“Wasn’t he, papa?”
“I suppose that at first he thought all the commodore had been saying
was merely a joke,” replied her father. “He seemed astounded, and it
was difficult to make him believe that he was really on an American
vessel. But the band on the President’s quarterdeck was playing ‘Yankee
Doodle,’ and over it the American ensign was displayed, while the
uniforms of the marines were suddenly changed from red to blue.
“It would seem that Hutchinson might well feel alarmed at finding
himself in the hands of Rodgers, for he had been one of Cockburn’s
subalterns when that marauder plundered and burned Havre de Grace a
few months before; and it is said that Lieutenant Hutchinson had
now in his possession a sword which he carried away from Commodore
Rodgers’s house on that occasion.
“He had been warned by Captain Oliver, when receiving instructions as
commander of the Highflyer, to take care not to be outwitted by the
Yankees. ‘Especially be careful,’ said Oliver, ‘not to fall into the
hands of Commodore Rodgers, for if he comes across you he will hoist
you upon his jib-boom and carry you into Boston.’”
“And did he do it, now he’d got him?” asked Ned.
“No,” said Captain Raymond. “Well was it for him that the enemy into
whose hands he had fallen was an American. Rodgers treated him with
courtesy such as is due to a prisoner of war, and soon allowed him to
go at large on parole.”
“And did Commodore Rodgers get back to his own country, papa?” asked
Elsie.
“Yes; three days after the capture of the Highflyer he sailed into
Newport harbor, having his prize with him, her commander and
fifty-five other prisoners. He said his cruise had not added much
lustre to the American navy, but he had rendered his country signal
service by harassing the enemy’s commerce, and keeping more than twenty
vessels in search of him for several weeks. He had captured eleven
merchant vessels and two hundred and seventy-one prisoners.”
“What could he do with so many prisoners, uncle?” asked Eric. “I should
hardly think he’d have room for them in his ship.”
“All but those he carried into Newport had been paroled and sent home
in the captured vessels,” replied the captain.
“Did he go out catching British ships again, uncle?” asked Edward.
“Yes; on the 5th of December, 1813, he sailed from Newport on another
cruise in the President. He expected to fall in with the British
squadron, but with a stiff breeze from the north-northwest he got well
to sea without falling in with them. The next day he captured the
Cornet, which British cruisers had taken from the Americans; then he
sailed southward. In the vicinity of the Barbadoes he took, one after
another, three British merchantmen. He ran down into the Caribbean Sea
and cruised there unsuccessfully for awhile, but finally captured and
sunk a British merchantman, then sailed for the coast of Florida.
“Going northward, he was off Charleston Bar on the 11th of February. He
did not enter it, however, but continued on up the coast, chasing and
being chased, dashing through a vigilant British blockading squadron
off Sandy Hook, and sailed into New York harbor on the evening of the
eighteenth.”
“Then New York did him honor, didn’t she, father?” said Grace, sitting
near, listening to his story.
“Yes,” replied the captain; “many of the citizens did so, and a dinner
was given in compliment to him at Tammany Hall. At that dinner, where
most of the notables of the city were present, Rodgers gave this
toast: ‘Peace, if it can be obtained without the sacrifice of national
honor or the abandonment of maritime rights; otherwise, war until peace
shall be secured without the sacrifice of either.’”
“A good toast. I like the sentiment expressed,” said Grace. “I think I
have read that a good many gentlemen were present there at the dinner.”
“Yes, more than three hundred; many of them shipmasters,” said the
captain. “A toast was given to the commodore, followed by eighteen
cheers, and a song that some one had written in his honor that morning
was sung.”
“Papa,” said Elsie, “was it right for him to put the name of a British
vessel on his, and British uniform on his marines, to deceive the
British on the Highflyer so that they would come to him and be taken
prisoners?”
“No, daughter, I do not think it was,” replied the captain, “though,
no doubt, the motive of all of them was good—to defend their country
and countrymen from robbery and oppression. But it is never right to do
evil that good may come. My good mother’s teaching was, ‘You should die
rather than tell a lie, though it were no more than to deny that two
and two make four.’ But, no doubt, Rodgers thought his manœuvres all
right and fair; and they certainly inflicted no wrong upon the enemy.”
“Is that all the story about him, papa?” asked Ned.
“Just about,” replied his father. “His good ship, the President, now
needed a thorough overhauling, and the Secretary of the Navy offered
Commodore Rodgers the command of the Guerriere, the ship which Hull
took from Dacres, and which might be made ready for sea much sooner
than the President. The commodore went to Philadelphia, where the
Guerriere was being put in order, and, finding that she was not so
nearly ready as he had supposed, he informed the Secretary that he
preferred to retain command of the President. But in the meantime the
President had been offered to Decatur. Rodgers courteously allowed that
commander to take his choice of vessels, and he chose the President.
Now, my dears, I think we may consider our naval studies ended for
to-night.”