I MEET A NEW FRIEND
I will not attempt to describe my feelings as I stood there in the
darkness, with those stout walls shutting me from the liberty I
craved--craved that I might give myself to the service of my struggling
country. I am quite sure I could not at that time separate the
mingled feelings of chagrin, regret, and hopelessness that oppressed
me. One word alone can express the condition of my mind and heart
just then--despair. I could have shed tears if it would have been of
any use; it may be a sob did escape me, but if so it was speedily
checked, for a heavy voice spoke from the farthest corner of the room,
demanding:
“Who are you?”
I had supposed I was alone in the cell. Surprised now to find I was
sharing it with another, I nevertheless was able to answer promptly:
“An unfortunate prisoner like yourself.”
“Yes,” was the response, “but I mean are you British or American?” and
I thought I detected an eagerness, almost a suspense in the speaker’s
voice as he waited for an answer.
“American,” I replied.
“Thank God for that!” was the immediate ejaculation. Then I heard a
sound as though one was rising from a bed, and the next instant the man
came over where I was with rapid strides.
“I am Samuel Tucker, a sea captain from Marblehead, in the colony of
Massachusetts,” he announced much to my astonishment. “Now tell me who
are you?”
“Captain Tucker!” I cried, ignoring his question in my surprise and
joy. “Captain Samuel Tucker of Marblehead, and I came across the ocean
to find you! Who would have thought we should meet here--in a cell of
the Liverpool jail!”
“‘Came across the ocean to find me,’” he repeated, and I could not help
noticing the wonderment in his tones. “Pray tell me then who are you?”
“I am Arthur Dunn, the son of Captain Dunn, with whom you once sailed,”
I replied, and then rapidly, yet in fullest detail, I told my story,
beginning with my mother’s dying request, and ending with my arrest an
hour or two before.
“So you are in jail for the very same reason I am,” he remarked with a
slight laugh when I was done. Then he spun his own yarn.
He had made a quick voyage to Lisbon, discharged his cargo, taken
another, and returned to the colony. Then he had sailed for Marseilles,
France. There an agent of the English government had come to him,
desiring to charter his brig to go over to Gibraltar and convey a
company of soldiers to Liverpool.
“The rascal never told me why the regiment was hurrying home,” the
Captain explained, “or I would not have let him have my craft at any
price. But the pay was good, and I fell into the same trap that a half
dozen other Yankee skippers did. We went to Gibraltar and brought in
here a regiment which sailed the very next day after its arrival for
the colonies to fight our countrymen. When I learned the truth my
blood boiled within me, and I cursed the King and his government to
the agent’s face when he came to pay me the charter money. I might
have known what would follow; the confiscation of my vessel and my
incarceration here. But the fellow knew just what I thought of him and
the government,” he concluded with a chuckle.
“How long have you been in here?” I now asked.
“Two weeks,” he responded; “but come over here,” he added in a low
whisper, and, taking me by the arm, he led me down the cell to its
one narrow window, through which so little light came that I had not
noticed it until then.
Once at the aperture he raised my hands with his own to the window
frame, and then I became aware that he was removing it. Placing it
noiselessly on the floor, he carried my hand up to the iron grating,
which I soon found he was taking down bar by bar.
“There,” he said at length in a tone so low I could scarcely hear him,
“you see the way is clear for our escape. This is why I was so anxious
to find out if you were an American. I wanted no one here to thwart my
plans. We shall go at midnight, so you will not be long within these
walls, Master Dunn,” and again he chuckled.
“But is not the river outside this wall?” I questioned, “and some feet
below? How are we to get down to it?”
“With this,” he replied, and carrying my hand up to his bosom I felt
hidden inside of his shirt a coil of stout rope. “Oh! the preparations
are all made, and cannot fail,” he continued confidently. “A boat from
a Yankee ship in the river will come under this window at midnight, and
lowering ourselves into that, we shall be taken off to the vessel which
will sail before daylight. The only change in the plan is she will
carry two passengers instead of one. You see, you came just in time to
go home with me, Master Dunn.”
The confidence in his own tones inspired me. A half-hour before I had
been on the verge of despair; now I was nearly wild in my exuberance of
joy. I could scarcely wait for the hour to come when we should leave
our cell. Then I fell to wondering how Captain Tucker had been able
to arrange so completely his plan of escape and as though he divined
my thought, the captain told me, while we waited the coming of the
rescuing yawl.
“Anchored in the harbor, near my own brig, at the time of my arrest,”
he began, “was the ship _Rebecca Morris_ from Philadelphia. Her captain
is an old friend of mine, and I knew if I could manage to communicate
with him he would do all in his power to help me escape. Under the
pretext of sending a message to my family in the colonies I asked the
turnkey who came to my cell daily to take a letter off to Captain
Allen. At first the fellow, demurred, but when I offered him my watch,
a valuable one, in return for the favor, and let him see the note I
had written, he yielded. Unbeknown to him, however, I substituted a
second note for the first one, in which I described the situation of my
cell, and suggested a way in which my friend could aid me. That night a
boat came under my window, bringing the things I had asked for--a file
and a stout rope. Meanwhile I removed the sash with my pocket knife,
and unraveled one of my stockings to obtain the string I needed. With
the latter I pulled up a stouter cord, and then the file and the rope
from the yawl. I knew it would take me several days to cut through the
bars, and so sent down a note requesting the boat to return here for me
tonight. When the cord came back, there was a line from Captain Allen
himself assuring me he would be here without fail.”
As the moments passed I could not help growing anxious lest for some
reason the friendly captain should fail us. On the other hand, Captain
Tucker was as cool and undisturbed as it was possible for a man to be.
“I know Christopher Allen,” he declared again and again, “and he will
be here as sure as the sun will rise tomorrow morning. All the guards
on the river cannot stop him. He’ll find a way to outwit them and
rescue us.”
At length there came the yowl of a cat from somewhere on the river.
Captain Tucker leaped to his feet (for we had been sitting on the edge
of the bed while we waited), exclaiming in a suppressed whisper:
“What did I tell you, Master Dunn? He is almost here.”
Again the yowl sounded nearer, and as though the animal was floating on
the tide down by the jail. Then it came the third time directly under
our window-sill.
My companion had already drawn the coil of rope from his bosom, and was
making one end fast to a piece of the iron grating. Placing this across
the narrow aperture, he threw out the cord, and turned to me, saying:
“All is ready, Master Dunn, and you shall go first. Tell Captain Allen,
however, that I’m right behind you.”
“Nay, sir,” I remonstrated, “you should go first, as the plan is yours
and--” but I did not finish.
“I am in command here,” he interrupted with an authority I could not
dispute, “and you are to go now.”
With the words he lifted me in his brawny arms and thrust me feet
foremost through the opening. I caught the rope in my hands and in
another moment was gliding swiftly down it. The distance was not so
great as I had expected, and it seemed but an instant before stout
hands seized me and set me gently down in the boat.
“You are not Captain Tucker,” a voice then whispered in my ear.
“No,” I admitted in the same low tone, “I am Arthur Dunn, a fellow
prisoner whom Captain Tucker insisted should come down first. He is
right behind me.”
The swaying of the rope confirmed my words, and, pushing me to one
side, the same brawny arms caught the captain as he came down. The next
minute the light craft darted off down the river as swiftly as four
oars could pull it.
I had been given a place in the bow, while Captain Tucker sat with
Captain Allen in the stern of the boat. What passed between them on our
way to the ship I never knew, but when we were in her cabin her skipper
turned to me, and putting his hand in mine, said:
“I have had a double pleasure tonight, Master Dunn. Instead of plucking
one patriot out of the hands of the enemy, I have taken two. I knew
your father. I believe he has in you a son worthy of him. You are
welcome to a place among us.”
I thanked him as best I could, and went to the berth assigned me with
a heart full of gratitude to the overruling Providence that had so
wonderfully cared for me and given me such kind friends.
But I was destined to find a more powerful friend before that voyage
was finished. This was Master Robert Morris, the owner of the vessel,
and a member of the Continental Congress, who was on board as a
passenger. Either Captain Tucker or Captain Allen must have told him
who I was and how I came to be on board the ship, for when I went on
deck the next morning, he came up to me, and having congratulated me on
my escape from the British prison, said with a smile:
“We ought to hear good things from you and Captain Tucker. You both
have early shown that you are loyal to the colonies.”
Having no desire to be a drone on the vessel, I went to the captain
after breakfast and offered my services in any place he could use me.
“It is commendable in you, Master Dunn, to make this offer,” he
replied, “and I will say I rather expected it of you. It is your father
all over again. But there is no place I can put you except with the
sailors. Captain Tucker has already made a similar offer, and I can
hardly put the best skipper that ever sailed out of a New England port
out of the cabin, so I have created the berth of a third mate in order
to use him. You can hardly expect me to arrange for a fourth mate much
as I should like to keep you with us. But if you care to go to the
forecastle, I will enter you on the ship’s roster as an able seaman.”
“I had rather go there than be idle,” I answered promptly, and, having
been assigned my watch and station, I went forward. Though I did not
know it then, my act greatly pleased Master Morris, who was already
furtively watching both Captain Tucker and myself for proofs of our
seamanship.
Before the voyage was over he had the opportunity to see us in
positions which tested to the full our qualities as sailors, for ere
a week had passed we encountered one of the severest gales I ever
experienced. For three days it raged, carrying away our shrouds and
yards as if they were tow, racking the ship until her seams opened,
and she was in great jeopardy. What was even worse, the Captain was
stricken down by a falling spar, and both of his limbs were broken.
In this emergency Captain Tucker stepped forward and offered to take
charge of the vessel. To this Master Morris and the mates readily
assented. The new commander’s first act was to assign me to his own
position as third mate, and his second to assure the men he would save
the vessel, if they would only promptly obey his orders. Then he went
to the wheel, and, taking the helm into his own hands, guided the ship
all that night through the storm.
His orders, issued from the wheel, were promptly executed by the
sailors who had taken on new courage and when dawn came and the tempest
abated, there was not a single soul on board but what was ready to own
that it was to his skill and knowledge the ship and the crew owed their
preservation.
This deed was the link in the chain that secured the fast friendship of
Master Morris. Grateful for the saving of his vessel, upon our arrival
in port, he introduced Captain Tucker to some of the other members of
the Continental Congress, and before he left Philadelphia for home he
had the promise of a captain’s commission in the Continental Navy.
Nor was I forgotten. Master Morris spoke a kind word for me, and I was
assured that I should have a midshipman’s commission in return for the
one I had lost.