THE OUTBREAK.
When we parted company with the _Hope_ there was among the crew of the
_America_ but one thought, one idea, and that the capture of other
craft belonging to the _St. Thomas_ fleet.
The richly laden ship had but whetted the appetite of the men for more,
and some of the most sanguine believed we might remain in the midst of
the fleet, seizing a vessel here and there, until we no longer had men
enough on board to make up a prize-crew.
That we would succeed in capturing one or more other craft out of all
the number that had left port seemed absolutely certain, even though
the convoying sloops-of-war came across us while we were at our work,
for, as Captain Ropes had said, we could make it exceeding lively for
either the _Ringdove_ or the _Scorpion_.
The men were so busily occupied with figuring up the amount of
prize-money which had been, and was to be, earned, that they had no
time to spend on possible ghosts, omens of any kind, or such happenings
as had nearly converted honest Yankee sailors into mutineers.
It seemed to Simon and me that the danger from this source had
disappeared entirely; but we were so seriously disturbed as to be
wofully frightened over what might happen if the prisoners concluded to
make an effort toward capturing the ship.
We speculated long and in vain trying to decide why the captain should
have thus neglected to take some steps toward recapturing the Britisher
who was lurking in the _America’s_ hold awaiting an opportunity to free
his fellow.
Now we were positive this fellow had played the ghost by appearing in
the fore-hatchway, as well as by shouting his senseless warning; but
how he had contrived to bring himself into view, when the night was so
dark that the lookouts could not distinguish objects at a distance of
two yards, was more than we could conjecture.
Simon and I had remained constantly on watch from the moment we
discovered one of the prisoners to be missing, and since our having
warned the captain not less than three of the sailors were also on duty
in the hold.
At no time did both of us lads sleep during the same moment. We divided
ourselves into two watches, and indulged in naps lasting no more than
an hour.
[Illustration: “WE DIVIDED OURSELVES INTO TWO WATCHES.”]
Since we could thus rest as well in the daytime as at night, neither of
us felt any evil effects from remaining constantly on the alert.
Never once during all this time did we either hear or see the prisoner
who remained hidden somewhere in the hold, nor could we make certain,
now that there were so many captives, whether those in the brig got
more food than sufficed for their number.
It was only reasonable to believe, however, that the Britishers found
ample opportunity to feed their comrade from the allowance dealt out,
and also that he was ready to open an attack whenever the proper time
had come.
On this day after we parted company with the _Hope_, praying that the
prize-crew might succeed in taking her to an American port, where she
could be sold for our benefit, it seemed necessary we two lads should
exercise more vigilance than ever before, because the excitement among
our crew was so great that those detailed for duty as prisoners’ guard
gave heed to what was going on above, rather than to watching the
throng of enemies which was so rapidly increasing in size.
The brig was no longer large enough to admit of all lying down to sleep
at the same time, and it was certain some different arrangement must be
made when night came.
Once we should be forced to give certain of the number free run of the
hold, the danger to ourselves would be vastly increased, so Simon and I
argued.
Because of the fact that we were in the immediate vicinity of a large
fleet, some sail of which we hoped to capture, word had been passed
to the effect that the prisoners would not be allowed to come on deck
for exercise until further orders, and when this was made known to the
Britishers they became so bold as to indulge in open threats of what
they were able to do.
Some of the most reckless declared they could leave the brig at will,
and that the _America_ would be their prize in due course of time.
Simon and I discussed the advisability of going again to the captain,
and would have done so but for fear of being laughed at as cowards who
were afraid of unarmed and imprisoned men.
It was hardly probable Captain Ropes had forgotten the report we made,
and it seemed certain he would take some steps to shun the danger when,
in his opinion, the time was ripe for such a move.
As I have already said, the excitement among our crew was so great that
it seemed impossible for those detailed as guard to remain below; but
one or the other of the three men was constantly running on deck to
learn if a sail had hove in sight.
Thus it was we came to know that, about an hour before sunset, the
lookout had sighted a heavily laden brig, and the _America_ was put
about in full chase.
Perhaps because of this fact no attempt was made to provide better
accommodations for the prisoners.
They were forced to remain packed in the prison, many of them unable
to lie down, and their threats and insubordination increased to an
alarming degree.
“We shall have trouble before morning,” Simon said, in a tone of
studied carelessness to one of the sentinels, hoping thereby to put the
man more on his guard; but the latter replied, indifferently:
“Don’t get fancies into your head, lad. Them ’ere Britishers are where
they can’t work any mischief, no matter how ripe they may be for it.
When you’ve seen as many prisoners aboard ship as have come my way,
you won’t bother yourself about what is possible for them to do while
they’re unarmed an’ packed in snug as those fellows are.”
Fortunately, my comrade and I had not become so familiar with
privateering as to render us careless, else the good ship _America_
would never have sailed into a Yankee port with the stars and stripes
flying, and this much Captain Ropes has said time and time again.
Although we knew our muskets were in proper condition, Simon insisted
they be discharged and reloaded, in order that we might be certain they
were in working order, and he took both weapons on deck, where, after
having received permission from Mr. Fernald, he emptied them.
When he returned, and while we were charging the weapons, the lad told
me that the brig was yet in sight to the southward, and we stood every
chance of overhauling her unless the wind should fail.
Just at that time, however, we gave very little heed to the possibility
of another capture.
In the hold of the _America_ we were confronted by such a situation as
taxed our courage to the utmost.
While it was yet daylight we tried to sleep; but in vain, and after
supper had been served we sat against the bulkhead, where none could
come upon us from the rear, watching closely the snugly packed throng
of Britishers as cats watch a lot of rats.
With all our precautions, the decisive moment came when we were least
expecting it.
It was about ten o’clock at night. Two of the guard were on deck,
having been drawn there by news that the chase was being rapidly
overhauled, when I saw a man suddenly spring out of what had appeared
to be a solid stanchion, as it looked to me, and before I had time to
raise a cry the door of the brig was thrown open, the prisoners pouring
out like swarming bees.
The sailor, who should have been on the alert, was standing near the
foot of the ladder, waiting to learn from his two comrades who had gone
on deck as to the chances of our coming up with the chase, and not
until I cried out did he realise his danger.
By that time, the Britishers were upon him, and he went down like a man
of straw, apparently trampled under their feet, as the foremost made a
rush for the gun-deck, knowing full well that there would be found arms
in plenty.
As a rule, I am a coward; but at that moment, my hand never so much as
quivered, while I took careful aim at the leader, and he fell off the
ladder at the same instant the report of my musket rang out, knocking
down those who were immediately below him.
In a twinkling the entire mob had turned on us lads. They came as does
a foaming wave, seeking to engulf whosoever shall have lingered on the
sands, and involuntarily I closed my eyes while raising the musket like
a club, in order to shut out that blow which seemingly would deprive me
of life.
Fortunately, Simon’s musket was loaded, and he dropped the foremost in
his tracks while the infuriated men were a dozen paces distant, thereby
checking the advance ever so slightly, and in that brief interval I
gathered my senses once more.
It seemed certain I would be killed, and with this belief came such
courage as I had never believed could be mine.
Swinging the musket above my head, I rushed straight toward the
pale-faced man I had seen apparently coming out of the solid stanchion,
and not until I had taken two or three paces toward him did he show his
weapon.
He--and it could be none other than the man who had played the part of
ghost--had possessed himself of a boarding-pike, and I understood from
the gleam in his eyes that he counted on running me through.
I brought down the musket with a force that would have floored him
like an ox; but he was prepared for such an attack, and my weapon was
splintered on the deck timbers, leaving me with arms so numb that,
even though my life depended upon the movement, I could not raise such
fragments as my hands still clutched.
In another instant the boarding-pike would have found its way through
my body, and then, as if the blow had been delivered over my shoulder,
I saw the butt of a musket fall full upon the fellow’s head, crushing
him to the deck.
[Illustration: “IN ANOTHER INSTANT THE BOARDING PIKE WOULD HAVE FOUND
ITS WAY THROUGH MY BODY.”]
Some of the men who were loitering on the gun-deck have declared I
yelled like a maniac for help; but of that I have no knowledge.
When the battle was over,--and it proved to be such a battle as
I hope never to take part in again,--I was not conscious of having
uttered the slightest cry from the moment when the prisoners swarmed
out of the brig.
I only know that I struck again and again with the barrel of the
musket, which was all of the weapon remaining in my hands, and before
me it seemed as if hundreds upon hundreds of infuriated Britishers were
pressing forward, intent only on delivering a fatal blow.
What has been set down above is not quite true, for I remember that
Simon Ropes stood by my side, fighting manfully, and doing twice the
execution that was within my power, for his weapon was uninjured, and
the butt of it fell on more than one man’s head, crushing it to a pulp,
or seeming to do so.
It is said that we were in the hold keeping back the desperate
Britishers no more than three minutes, but it seemed to me as if a full
hour passed before I saw dimly a file of sailors, armed with muskets
and cutlasses, descending the ladder, shooting with careful aim as they
came.
Then it was as if a veil fell suddenly over my eyes; sparks of seeming
fire danced beneath my eyelids, and I knew no more.
When consciousness returned I was in the cockpit being attended to by
the surgeon, and Simon Ropes, bandaged and wrapped in white cloth until
only a comrade would recognise him, lay still as death.
“Is he dead?” I managed to ask, although the simple act of moving my
tongue caused pain.
“Not a bit of it, lad. Both he and you will live many a long day yet,
unless it so chances that you foolishly stand in the path of a British
ball when it comes aboard,” the stern-visaged yet kindly doctor said,
in a cheery tone. “You two lads are rather the worse for wear, I’ll
admit; but you’ve proven yourselves men on this night, and, what’s
more, have saved the _America_. But for you I doubt not that all hands
of us would now be dead, or in the brig with our late prisoners as
guards over us.”
“Did we indeed do as much, sir?” I asked, despite the pain, for the
words sounded very sweet in my ears.
“It is a fact, and Captain Ropes himself said as much not ten minutes
ago. What is more, the ghost has been discovered.”
“Ay, sir, Simon and I have known without seeing him, these ten days
past; but how was he discovered?”
“Joshua Seabury came upon his hiding-place quite by accident, after the
scrimmage was over, and the Britishers packed in the brig once more.
There, also, was found that with which he clothed himself when the men
saw the form so plainly although the night was dark.”
“What was it, sir?” I cried, eagerly, trying to rise on my elbow, but
falling back with a groan immediately afterward.
“Neither more nor less than a piece of white bunting, beneath which he
admits having carried a lantern found on the gun-deck while all hands
were above. The light shining through the thin fabric disclosed his
form, and yet was sufficiently thick to hide the shape of the flame.”
“Do all the crew know this, sir?”
“You may be sure they do. Captain Ropes took good care it should be no
secret, and there’s not a man aboard who is not ashamed to admit he
ever believed in a ghost.”
When this brief conversation had come to an end I was assailed by a
sensation of faintness which overpowered me, and could only close my
eyes in utter helplessness.
Simon Ropes and I were yet in the cockpit when the _America_ captured
her fifth prize, the British brig _Dart_, laden with rum and cotton,
and carrying eight guns.
While we lay below unable to move, the enemy had been overhauled,
submitting without attempting to strike a blow, and we were the richer
by just so much prize-money in prospect.
Although not a gun had been fired, two of the prisoners lost their
lives.
It seems, as we heard later from Master Joshua, that our third officer,
Mr. Sparhawk, together with Thomas Fuller, a boatswain’s mate, had been
among those sent to board the prize. On returning to the _America_ in
order to make a report, they brought with them five prisoners; their
boat was stove under the _America’s_ counter, and two of the Britishers
were drowned.
Anthony Caulfield, an able seaman who understood navigation, was put
in charge of the prize, together with eight of our men. And twenty
prisoners were added to the number in the hold.
The _Dart_ was headed for Salem without delay, and our ship cruised
back and forth, hoping to sight yet other vessels of the fleet.
Simon and I were not seriously wounded. The prisoners had had no
weapons, therefore our only injuries came from blows with bare fists,
save the one on my head which was caused by the barrel of my own
musket, that had been wrested from my grasp.
Within eight and forty hours we were able to go on deck, and then, to
our great surprise, we learned that the _America_ was steering a course
which would speedily bring her into Salem Harbour.
It had been necessary to part with so many of the crew in order to man
the prizes, that we were short-handed, and there was nothing left for
us save to make the home port as soon as possible, that we might take
on board those who had probably arrived there in advance of us.
Captain Ropes ordered us lads into his cabin immediately we made our
appearance on the spar-deck in company with the surgeon, and, once
there, he spoke such words of praise as cause my ears to tingle even at
this late day.
He appeared to believe that we had indeed saved the ship from being
captured by the prisoners, and declared that when the prize-money was
distributed our shares should be the same as those of the gunners.
There were many other promises given by him voluntarily; but I do not
propose to set them down here, for they were all made good when we
sailed aboard the _America_ on her second cruise, and that yarn shall
be spun at some future time if I decide to put in writing, for the
pleasure of Simon Ropes and myself, all which befell us then.
It is enough now if I say it was the captain’s orders that we two
lads live aft during the homeward voyage, and right well did we enjoy
ourselves when our wounds were so far healed that they ceased to give
us pain.
We often indulged in a chat with Master Joshua; but neither of us ever
broached the subject of omens, and I observed with no slight amusement
that he claimed to have known from the moment we weighed anchor in
Salem Harbour that our cruise would be most prosperous.
And it was prosperous; we had taken five rich prizes in a few over one
hundred days, which was more than the majority of privateersmen could
say.
Every man Jack of us would have dollars in plenty once the captured
vessels were sold, and, what was far better, could say with good truth
that we had done even more than our share in inflicting injury upon the
enemy.
We talked all these things over while the _America_ was driven swiftly
by favouring winds toward the Massachusetts coast, never dreaming but
that we had come to an end of taking prizes until after going ashore at
Salem.
Therefore it was we were almost astonished when, the voyage being more
than half completed, the lookouts announced that a sail was in sight,
and the information was given in a tone which told plainly the belief
of the men that another Britisher was within our grasp.
It was on the sixteenth day of December, when we were near the Western
Islands, that this sail came in view from the southeast.
We in the cabin were making a long story of breakfast as a means of
passing the time, when the lookout hailed, and he who has ever served
on a privateer knows full well the excitement which was immediately
after apparent on our decks.
I might fill page after page with an account of what was said or done
from eight o’clock on that morning until nearly noon, when we had the
Britisher close under our guns, for we could sail nearly two miles to
her one; but so much has already been set down here concerning a chase
that I shall say, without further preamble, it was quickly at an end
once we came within range.
It was the brig _Euphemia_, of Glasgow, bound for Gibraltar from La
Guayra, with four hundred thousand pounds of coffee on board, which we
had overhauled, and, although the Britisher carried ten guns and was
manned by thirty-five men, she submitted to capture as peacefully as if
she had been a child.
We had only to fire a shot across her bows after she was beneath our
guns, and the deed was done.
That valuable cargo and staunch vessel was ours without further parley,
and would serve to swell the amount of prize-money until our men’s
heads swam with thinking of the good hard dollars which would be theirs
once we made Salem again.
This last capture rejoiced me more than had any of the others; not
particularly on account of the rich cargo, but because she had fallen
into our hands so easily, and when we believed we had done, for the
time being, with capturing Britishers.
The king, who claimed the right to overhaul our vessels in order
to impress Yankees under the subterfuge that they had once been
Englishmen, would soon learn how much of blood and treasure it was
necessary to spend in the effort to make good the claim, if indeed he
ever could.
Well, we made a prize of the _Euphemia_; displaced Captain John Gray,
who commanded her when she left La Guayra, by our boatswain’s mate,
Archibald S. Dennis, and threw on board eleven men to take the places
of the twenty-one sailors and two officers we made prisoners.
The remainder of the crew promised to obey faithfully the new master,
and were allowed to remain aboard the craft they had counted on taking
into a British port.
Four hundred thousand pounds of coffee is not to be picked up on the
ocean every day, and it can well be fancied that our crew, what was
left of them, made exceeding merry over the capture; but any one of
them might have been reduced to a state of shame had the cook but
whispered in his ear the single word “ghost.”
After we were on our course once more, in company with the prize, which
we did not count on losing sight of, all hands came to understand why
Captain Ropes, who had the name of being most greedy when Britishers
were to be captured, was so willing to steer for the home port before
we had been at sea four months.
The truth leaked out when we were put on an allowance of three and
one-half pints of water per day for each man, including the officers,
and before we sighted Baker’s Island once more every man Jack of us
knew what it was to be thirsty.
The prisoners, despite all they would have done, were given the same
amount of water as Captain Ropes himself had, and this fact was some
consolation to me as I thought of what such a throng must suffer in the
narrow confines of the brig.
Neither Simon Ropes nor I felt hardly toward them because of the
injuries they had inflicted upon us.
In fact, it seemed only natural they should attempt to capture the
ship, when what seemed a favourable opportunity presented itself,
and I have no doubt but that we two lads, barring the possibility of
our being too cowardly, would have made a similar effort under like
circumstances.
We longed for water as a miser longs for gold, prisoners and Americans
alike, before we reached port, and never again will I say that money
can buy all which is needed in this world.
We sailed proudly up past Baker’s Island, one hundred and twenty-two
days after having passed it outward bound, and in that time we had
captured six prizes that were afterward valued at one hundred and
fifty-eight thousand dollars.
Show me a privateer afloat during the war just ended, which made more
valuable captures, or was more successful in getting her prizes into
port!
The _James and Charlotte_ was carried by Mr. Tibbetts safely into
Salem Harbour. The _Benjamin_ put into Nantucket, after having been
chased for fifty-two hours by a British sloop-of-war, and, later, was
sold at auction in Boston. Mr. Proctor ran the _Ralph Nickerson_ into
Marblehead, where her cargo of lumber found a ready sale, and Mr.
Valpey successfully piloted the _Hope_ into Boston Bay. The _Dart_
arrived at Salem without mishap, and her merchandise is remembered to
this day by the people of the eastern coast, while the _Euphemia_ was
chased, but succeeded in gaining the harbour of Portland, Maine, three
days after we arrived at the home port.
We had not lost a single prize, which was another matter to give us
more than our share of pride, and from the hour our anchor was dropped
on the seventh day of January, in the year 1813, the fame of the
_America_ spread from Maine to South Carolina.
Captain Ropes took good care that the people of Salem should know what
Simon and I had done when the prisoners attempted to capture the ship,
and as we went ashore it was with difficulty we could make our way to
the head of the dock, because of the throngs which were bent on showing
their appreciation of our services.
I should have had sufficient courage to explain that on my part it was
all an accident; that if there had been any idea in my mind of the
danger which threatened, I might not have remained in the hold of the
ship to check the rush; but even though I had screamed at the full
strength of my lungs none would have heard, so great was the uproar,
or, hearing, would have taken heed after Simon’s father had given his
account of the affair.
As a matter of fact, I hardly realised that I was receiving praise
which had not been earned; the thought of being clasped in my mother’s
arms once more, knowing she was convinced I had done my full duty, was
so great that all else passed unheeded, and until her dear arms folded
me closely to her breast I did not fully understand what part I was
playing in this reception given by the good people of Salem.
I came to appreciate it fully, however, at a later day, and to be
exceeding proud of its being said on every street corner concerning
Simon Ropes and myself, that we had shown ourselves to be the equal of
any who sailed from Salem on board the armed ship _America_.
THE END.
Transcriber’s Notes:
--Text in italics is enclosed by underscores (_italics_).
--Punctuation and spelling inaccuracies were silently corrected.
--Archaic and variable spelling has been preserved.
--Variations in hyphenation and compound words have been preserved.