OMENS.
It was only after the gale had died away, and a new topmast had been
sent aloft, that we lads came to understand how much mischief or
trouble, whichever you choose to term it, might come of that disaster
which had terminated so happily.
Once our watch was at leisure, the men began speculating upon the
significance of what they were pleased to call an “omen,” and those
whom I had looked upon as the bravest appeared to be the most
disheartened by the mishap.
The breaking of the spar, which was doubtless brought about by some
serious defect in the timber, dismayed them, and one and all argued as
if eager to prove that the accident was but the forerunner of direst
disaster.
Master Joshua looked grave as any owl while he told a yarn of a vessel
which had lost a spar while leaving port, and was never heard of
afterward, declaring solemnly that the mishap had come about solely as
a means of warning the crew not to sail in the craft.
“But if they had already left the port, how would it be possible for
the men to go back, even though the captain had been willing to stand
by and see his crew desert?” Simon asked, innocently, whereat Master
Joshua fell into a passion, because “a boy” had dared make such foolish
inquiries regarding what was as “plain as the nose on a man’s face.”
“It ain’t for the likes of you to be askin’ questions about the signs
that are sent to sailormen,” he roared, shaking his fist at the lad who
was simply trying to gain what might prove to be useful information.
“Anybody who ain’t a natural born fool knows that sich things are seen
by them as live on the ocean, an’ the pity of it is there are idjuts
what can’t take warnin’.”
“Then you’re ready to believe that this ’ere cruise won’t be a payin’
one, eh?” the captain of Number Four gun asked, seriously.
“Accordin’ to what I’ve seen in this ’ere world, I wouldn’t want to
put very many hopes on the _America’s_ ever gettin’ into the home port
again.”
After this gloomy prediction, for such it was because of the tone in
which the words had been spoken, all hands began to look down in the
mouth, and it can well be imagined that even Simon and I were feeling
far from cheerful.
Had any other member of the crew suggested such a possibility, simply
because we had carried away a topmast immediately after leaving port,
I could have laughed at him; but Joshua Seabury was, to my mind, the
ablest seaman afloat, and all he said carried great weight with it, so
far as I was concerned.
The old man lighted his pipe in a sorrowful manner, as if saying to
himself that the good ship might founder before he could finish his
smoke, and the remainder of the crew began to spin yarns regarding
signs and omens of which they had heard, until the whole boiling of
them were worked up into the most doleful frame of mind.
Had the word been passed just then that a British privateer was in
sight, I question if any undue excitement would have been shown by our
men, so positive did all appear to be that we were on the eve of some
great disaster.
At first Simon and I were disposed to laugh at these senseless
forebodings, even though Master Joshua himself had been the first to
give them words; but, later, it appeared to me as if much mischief
might befall us because the men were so bent on persuading themselves
that the carrying away of the topmast, especially on a Friday, was a
token that some more than ordinarily serious danger threatened.
It would be reasonable to suppose that every privateersman was in
danger so long as he remained afloat searching for the enemy; but to
peril which had so good a foundation, these superstitious sailors gave
no heed.
It was to them as if we had been protected until the moment after the
topmast fell, and then we were not only left to our own devices, but
given to understand that we could not escape even the ordinary dangers
of the sea.
In reading over what has just been set down, I find that I have failed
in giving a good idea of the state of mind into which every man Jack
among us had fallen.
Perhaps at the time Simon and I did not fully realise what all this
arguing, speech-making, and yarn-spinning on the subject of omens might
amount to, but we had more than an inkling when, at a late hour on the
second night after the topmast fell, while we were lounging about the
deck simply because our watch was supposed to be on duty, Captain Ropes
called for us to come aft.
Up to this moment he had given no heed whatsoever to Simon; it was as
if the lad ceased to be a relative of his the moment he came aboard
the ship as one of the crew, and I was feeling more than a trifle sore
because my comrade’s father appeared to be copying so perfectly after
Master Josh.
“I’m not asking you lads to tell tales out of school,” the captain
said, when we had followed him into the after-cabin where he had his
quarters; “but I would like to know if the men are still chewing over
the loss of the topmast.”
[Illustration: “‘I AM NOT ASKING YOU LADS TO TELL TALES OUT OF SCHOOL,’
THE CAPTAIN SAID.”]
Simon, who had seemingly failed to observe that his father no longer
treated him as a son, at once gave a very good description of the
situation of affairs forward, and when his story was come to an end the
captain dismissed us exactly as he would have dismissed two lads whom
he had never met before; but I guessed that he was disturbed in mind
because of the foolish fears of the men.
We two lounged forward again, once we were at liberty, and I would have
spoken with Simon concerning his father’s odd behaviour, but that the
lad cut me short by saying, quite curtly:
“Before coming on board I was told plainly what might be expected,
therefore I can’t complain. My father first went to sea with an uncle,
and now he is giving me the same treatment which he then received.”
“But where would be the harm if he allowed us the run of the cabin, now
and then?” I asked, petulantly. “It would please me right well to sit
at his table once or twice in a week.”
“That you will never do while we are members of the crew,” Simon
replied, with a laugh, “and perhaps it is quite as well.”
“I’d like to know how you can figure that out?” and now I was grown
quite hot. “If my uncle was on board, I venture to say both of us would
be eating there every day in the week.”
“Which might not be to our advantage. Now the men treat us as belonging
to their mess; but if we ate in the cabin while pretending to do duty
forward, father says our lives would soon be made burdensome, and
surely he ought to know.”
To my mind the argument was a feeble one, not worthy a brave man like
Captain Ropes; but I held my peace, understanding that it could hardly
be pleasing for Simon to hear me criticise his father.
While the crew discussed the supposed ominous omen, I brooded over the
fancied injustice of the captain toward Simon and myself, and in a very
short time succeeded in believing that I was a veritable victim.
Simon Ropes displayed more sound common sense than all the remainder
of us put together, and from that time when he stood up like a man
battling against the fancies and whims of the men, with never one, not
even I who counted myself his comrade, to back him, I came to know the
lad for the hero he afterward proved himself to be when the decks were
slippery with American blood.
Within two days after the topmast had been carried away the men were
in very nearly a mutinous mood, some claiming that the _America_
should put back sufficiently long to cast off the spell of ill fortune
which had been thrown over her, and others declaring that at the first
opportunity they would desert, believing they were morally entitled to
do so in order to save their own lives.
“If it was only a case of standin’ up in a fair fight, no matter how
big might be the odds against us, I’d willingly take my chances with
the others, because I shipped for such work,” one of the younger men
of the crew said more than once in my hearing. “But this flyin’ in the
face of bad luck, with a warnin’ plain before us, is more’n I bargained
for.”
As a matter of course, his messmates should have reported him for
uttering words which were well calculated to destroy the discipline
of the ship; but it was as if nearly every man on board, save the
officers, were in much the same way of thinking.
It was not simply the carrying away of a spar which so disturbed the
crew; but, rather, the manner in which it was done, together with the
time of the accident, all of which we lads heard discussed during
nearly every hour while we were off duty.
The topmast was a new spar, and there was no apparent reason for its
breaking; the gale was not heavy enough to cause the mishap, and the
men refused to entertain the very reasonable explanation that there
had been some defect in the timber, which escaped the notice of the
spar-makers.
Then again, the accident had occurred on the first Friday after
leaving port, and before we had sighted the sail of an enemy. Such
a combination of circumstances, so the old shellbacks declared, was
sufficient to stamp the affair as an omen of the most pronounced
character.
The fact that all the men who had been aloft were saved, without even
so much as a scratch, was brought forward by Simon, whenever the crew
would condescend to listen to him, as a good reason why we should look
upon the matter as one of good rather than bad significance, but day by
day the mutinous talk grew louder.
The topmast had been carried away on the eleventh day of September,
and not until the twenty-third of the same month did we fall in with a
craft of any description.
The absence of vessels when we were in the track of the enemy’s
merchant-ships was, to this superstitious crew, only additional proof
that they were correct in their fancies.
The sun was just showing himself above the horizon on the day
last mentioned, when the lookout shouted what, under different
circumstances, would have been most welcome news.
A craft of some description was in sight; but so far away that it was
impossible to make out anything save what, to Simon and I, looked like
nothing more than the wing of a sea-bird outlined against the clear sky
to leeward.
Certain it is the men would have grumbled had our ship’s course not
been altered on the instant, and then, when this was done, even before
the captain knew what kind of a craft he was steering for, every man
Jack of them began making the most dismal predictions.
Now we were to learn the meaning of the omen, the men said, walking
moodily to and fro as if certain that death was very close aboard. We
would find the stranger an English frigate, at the very least, and the
cruise of the _America_ as an American vessel would come to an end
before sunset.
I believe of a verity that, had we fallen in with a Britisher who
carried no greater weight of metal than ourselves, these predictions
would have come true, so dispirited were the crew, and while we slowly
drew nearer the strange sail, Simon and I stood well forward, burning
with the most painful anxiety, fancying we were approaching some
terrible doom.
Before two hours had passed, such a lady for sailing was the ship, we
could see clearly the topsails of the chase, and the most outspoken
grumbler among us declared that she was nothing more formidable than a
British merchant-brig.
The majority of the crew began to recover their courage and their
spirits; but a few of the older shellbacks insisted that, whether the
stranger was a peaceful merchantman or a heavily armed privateer, we
were about to learn the true meaning of the omen.
And so we did learn the meaning, or, rather, that it had no meaning at
all,--at least, nothing that was to work us harm at the beginning of
the voyage.
Within an hour of noon we had overhauled and brought to the British
brig _James and Charlotte_, Lavitt, master, from Liverpool, bound for
St. John’s with a cargo of hats, dry goods, and a general assortment of
merchandise.
One gun had been fired to bring her to, and no more powder than the
single charge was burned in the capture of what all hands knew beyond a
peradventure was a valuable prize.
It would have pleased me well had I been allowed to board her; but
Captain Ropes was not disposed to spend any idle time when there were,
perhaps, other merchantmen to be overhauled.
Without delay a prize-crew of six, under command of Mr. Tibbetts, was
thrown on board, after which we stretched away on our course with
eleven prisoners in the hold, and the master of the captured brig
quartered aft, he having passed his word of honour to make no attempt
to communicate with the other Britishers.
The tongues of those off duty began to wag furiously once we stood away
from the brig, and now had come the time when those who argued the
strongest that we were doomed to some terrible misfortune, and among
whom was Master Josh, were forced to bear such ridicule as only a crew
of sailormen can invent.
Simon and I believed that the capture of this first prize, which was
a rich one, such as should go far toward tasselling our neckerchiefs
with dollars, would bring to an end all the mutinous talk we had been
hearing, and, during the remainder of this day, we were correct.
Next morning, however, the croakers had decided that one vessel
captured was no sign the omen was for the good rather than the bad, and
straightway began figuring how the traverse might be worked to bring
ruin upon us.
This last stage of the believers in omens was not as serious as the
first, since there were very many who contented themselves with
reckoning how much would be coming to us from the prize, in case Mr.
Tibbetts succeeded in getting her to a home port, and when one sets
dollars against old women’s whims, the odds are decidedly in favour of
the former.
Now from this time out we had so much of drill during fair weather,
that the croakers really did not have time to present their foolish
views in detail, and we two lads counted on the matter dying a natural
death; but in this we were mistaken.
Were I to set down here all we did or said while the _America_ cruised
here or there, without sighting any save a friendly sail, the words
would fill an enormous book, and, when they had been read, would amount
to nothing.
Life aboard ship, as Simon and I soon came to understand, grows very
monotonous after a certain time, and we who had nothing more exciting
than the continual drills with small arms, exercise at the great guns,
and lessons in working ship under every emergency, soon grew sick at
heart because of the lack of adventure.
It goes without saying that, during this time of comparative idleness,
Simon Ropes and I were educated into very fair sailors, as well as
privateersmen, and, before many weeks had passed, came to believe we
could hold our own with the oldest shellback on board.
Now and then Captain Ropes condescended to speak with us; but a
stranger would not have believed that my comrade was his son, or I the
nephew of the ship’s owner.
As a matter of course we two lads were thoroughly instructed as to our
duties in event of an engagement, and day after day did we serve the
gunners with ammunition, which it was necessary we should carry back to
the magazine when the drill was at an end.
When the days lengthened into weeks after the capture of our first
prize, and we came across nothing flying the British flag, the croakers
sprang up very strong once more, and during our watch below we heard
so much about omens and signs that I literally turned sick at heart
whenever I came across a group who were harping on the loss of a new
topmast on the first Friday after leaving port.
The prisoners must have had a sorry time of it; they were kept in the
hold, except two hours each day when they came up for fresh air and
exercise, and I dare venture to say that they longed as heartily as
did our crew that another capture might be made, because then their
chances of being sent ashore would be so much the greater.
Simon and I saw but little of these unfortunates, for the very good
reason that we kept out of their way so far as possible.
It was by no means pleasant to watch the poor fellows when they came
on deck eager and thirsty for a breath of sweet air, and we made it
our business to be engaged in some other part of the ship while they
were pacing to and fro on deck, guarded by eight or ten men with loaded
muskets in their hands.
During all this long, weary time of watching, hoping, and predicting
evil, we came to know what a gallant craft was ours.
There was ample opportunity to test her sailing qualities under every
condition of weather, and never a man on board who did not come to
believe she could overhaul or show her heels to anything afloat.
We skirted along the coast of Portugal, passing the island of St.
Michael on the fifth of October, and yet not until a full month later,
that is to say, on the sixth day of November, did we sight another
craft flying the cross of St. George.
During all this time our croakers had kept their tongues wagging
industriously, declaring that the next time we saw the British flag
it would be at the topmast head of an English ship of the line, which
would speedily verify the predictions represented by the faulty topmast.
It was as if we had been at sea half a lifetime when the lookout
reported a brig-rigged craft to windward, and after she was brought
into view of us on deck we knew beyond question that we had almost
within our clutches another British craft.
The cruise did not bid fair to be what is known as a “lucky” one if
the game was to be found so few and far between; but we were ready to
welcome anything that might break the monotony, even though it should
be a Britisher that far out-classed us.
A little fighting then, with some blood-letting, would have been good
medicine for those who were grown mutinous once more, and I fancied,
from what could be told by the expression on the faces of the officers,
that a regular battle, providing we might get the best of it, would be
welcomed, even though there were no dollars to be gained.
We were not to overhaul this second Britisher without some labour,
as we soon came to understand, for the brig was a smart sailer, and
more than once before she was brought to did it appear as if she might
succeed in giving us the slip, despite the good qualities of our ship.
From ten o’clock in the forenoon until nearly daybreak next morning,
we staggered on under full press of canvas, not gaining more than two
miles in all that time, and then Master Josh began to breed discontent
by declaring that we were astern of no less a craft than the _Flying
Dutchman_ herself.
“We’ll board her even if she’s full to the scuppers with ghosts,”
the boatswain said, smiting his thigh with his hand as if bent on
splintering the bone. “We’ve had enough of signs an’ tokens since
this ’ere cruise began, an’ I’m comin’ to believe that our ill luck
is caused by it. I’m not settin’ myself up to put this whole ship’s
company into proper trim; but this much I’ll swear to, the next man
who begins to croak about what’s goin’ to happen jest because a
cross-grained timber went adrift in a gale, will come mighty nigh
havin’ to settle the question once an’ for all with me. I’m not a
fightin’ man naturally, neither am I willin’ to hear so much chin over
nothin’ more’n might have been expected.”
Both Simon and I were fully prepared to see these words provoke such
a quarrel as only the master-at-arms could quell; but to our surprise
not a word was spoken in reply. Every man Jack of the croakers held his
peace, although there were many among them, notably Master Josh, who
might have given the boatswain more of a task than he wanted, had it
come to a game of fisticuffs.
Most likely the fact that we were in chase of what might prove a rich
prize prevented the men from indulging in a fight; but certain it is
that the challenge, for it could be taken as nothing less, was not
accepted.
I noted with considerable satisfaction, however, that we heard no more
about omens during the remainder of the race, which came to an end
about noon, with the British brig _Benjamin_ lying to about half a mile
to leeward, and Captain Ropes calling off a prize-crew to take her in
charge.
This craft, the second we had taken, was bound for England from
Newfoundland, laden with fish, and commanded by James Collins.
We took from her the mate and seven men, leaving on board her captain,
one man, and a boy, and sent from the _America_ Joseph Dixon and
eight men, with orders to make any port in the United States north of
Nantucket.
There was no time spent in overhauling the prize. As soon as the
prisoners could be brought aboard we were off, leaving Master Dixon to
his own devices, so far as keeping clear of British armed vessels was
concerned.
Both Simon and I had hoped the prisoners taken from the _James and
Charlotte_ would be sent away; but instead of thus clearing the ship,
we received an addition of eight others, and, what concerned us two
lads most nearly, we were told off to care for the enemy in the way of
keeping them supplied with food and water.
It was the most distasteful task ever set me; but there was no use
in trying to cry off from it, and, even had it been ten times worse
than really was the case, I would not have uttered a single word of
complaint, save, perhaps, to my comrade, for there had been full and
plenty of grumbling on this cruise.
Our duties, as we soon learned from the second officer, consisted in
carrying from the cook’s quarters to the hold the food served out for
each meal, and also to have an eye over the prisoners during a certain
portion of each day, when the full crew was required to be on deck at
the regular drill.
Thus it was that we two lads found ourselves beyond control of Master
Josh, who had not proven himself a very good instructor, owing to the
severe attack of fear and grumbling which had come upon him with the
carrying away of the topmast, and I for one was not sorry to make
the change, although almost any other duty than that of guarding and
feeding the prisoners would have been more to my liking.
I could not prevent a certain feeling of pity for these poor fellows,
who were thus kept in close confinement for no other reason than that
their king was at war with the United States, and it is possible that
both us lads did somewhat toward making the imprisonment less irksome
at times.