Prisoners of War.
After a night of fitful slumber, the captives were awakened early
by Dunton, the master’s mate left in charge of the schooner when
Lieutenant Fotheringay went aboard the frigate. Dunton was a surly
fellow, over middle age, and heartily hating all Americans who, in his
opinion, were an inferior breed of English inhabiting a semi-civilized
land. To him they were “damned Yanks,” deserving of neither courtesy
nor favor.
“Lively, you fellows; get ready to go aboard the frigate.”
Hoppy coolly looked him over. “I guess there ain’t much getting ready
about it, my friend. You see, we kind o’ forgot to bring our Sunday
clothes, not expecting this honor.”
“I don’t want any back talk from prisoners,” replied Dunton, sneeringly.
“Is that so?” asked Hoppy in an even voice, though inwardly he felt
like kicking the officer. “Well, now, I should think you’d like a
little chat, seeing you’re so friendly about it.”
“Nice pair of scarecrows you are to go aboard a king’s ship and meet a
post-captain!”
This was intended to silence Hoppy. Hoppy flushed, and Captain Knowles,
seeing trouble ahead, nudged his compatriot warningly but without
effect.
“Don’t know as you’re any beauty yourself, Dunton, with all your finery
in the way of brass buttons. Ignorant folks might take you to be the
king of England himself, but I have met king’s officers before now and
I know that a master’s mate of your stripe is no ornament to a ship’s
company.”
Dunton was furious. “You’ll be sorry for those words yet, you damned
Yankee smuggler!”
“Maybe so,” returned Hoppy. “I’m willing to take a chance, anyway.”
There was some time to wait for the small boat to return from the
frigate, and from the deck of the schooner the prisoners had a fine
view of the splendid harbor of Provincetown, capable of affording
anchorage for a thousand sail, as was noted by Bradford when the
Mayflower first made the port. Many times had the captives sailed on
these waters and to them every depth and shallow was familiar. And
yet, notwithstanding the glorious summer morning, there seemed to be
the shadow of disaster over the scene. The town had suffered severely
from the presence of the enemy’s ships. Commerce was completely at a
standstill, for the great industry of the place, fishing, could not be
carried on under the muzzles of the British guns, and the few vessels
left in the port were rotting on the beach. The population was reduced
to a state of dumb submission to the invaders and, with the exception
of the British ships, the roadstead was a waste of waters.
About fifty yards from the schooner, the “Spencer” presented a sight
to gladden a sailor’s eye. Her towering masts and trim rigging showed
clearly against the sky. Her deck was a-swarm with busy men and her
burnished brasswork shone in the sunlight.
“She certainly is a beauty, Hoppy,” remarked Captain Knowles admiringly.
“Yes, Win, she is surely that,” replied Hoppy. “No wonder Raggett is
proud of her.”
“Well, he’s got about three hundred hands to keep busy and they have
nothing else to do but keep her tidied up. If there was a little more
fighting she mightn’t look so pretty. Still, I don’t think I should
like this navy life, myself.”
“Same here, Win. These Britishers have always had a navy and got
kind o’ used to the thing, but we have hardly started in. Maybe in
a few more years we shall have something besides a few cruisers and
privateers to meet them.”
Soon after this the boat arrived and the prisoners were transferred to
the frigate.
Lieutenant Fotheringay, courteous as ever, met them at the gangway.
“Gentlemen, Captain Raggett desires your presence in his cabin.”
“Well, now,” said Hoppy smilingly, “I’ll be hanged if it’s not a
pleasure to meet a gentleman once more, even if he’s an enemy!”
“Thank you, Captain Mayo.”
“That fellow Dunton might take a few lessons in manners from you,
lieutenant. He wants ’em badly.”
Before they reached the cabin, Fotheringay stopped them, saying:
“So you have had trouble with Dunton? I expected it, and I am sorry
that any unpleasantness should have arisen. However, it is not for me
to say anything against a brother officer. Let it pass. I take this
opportunity to tell you that Captain Raggett is in a very bad humor.
He has had despatches from the Admiralty finding fault with him for
not being more active in harassing the shore towns. There is trouble
hatching for your people and it will not help matters if you cross him
in any way. Captain Mayo, you will excuse me, but I think you are a
little hotheaded. You had better let Captain Knowles do the talking.”
“Thank you kindly, Mr. Fotheringay,” said Hoppy heartily, “Win
certainly is a smoother talker than I am; never much of what you call
a diplomat, myself. But whatever happens, we want you to remember that
we are grateful for your kindness, and if all Britishers were like you,
there would be no trouble.”
“And I, Mr. Fotheringay,” said Win, “repeat what I said to Hoppy
yesterday, ‘Damn this war!’ And now more than ever when it makes us the
enemies of a man like you.”
“You are very good to say so,” replied the officer.
In response to a knock at the captain’s door, a gruff voice bade them
enter. Captain Richard Raggett arose from his chair when Fotheringay
saluted and introduced the unwilling guests. The captain’s keen eyes
searched the faces of the prisoners as he motioned them to be seated.
Post-Captain Richard Raggett of the Royal Navy was a stout man of about
sixty years of age. “Old Dick Raggett,” as he was familiarly known
throughout the service, was an officer of the school that gave Britain
such sailors as Rodney, Nelson, Collingwood, and others whose names are
inseparably connected with the story of England’s glory on the high
seas. He had fought under his country’s flag in every quarter of the
globe and for nearly half a century he had served his king with devoted
loyalty, always obeying orders no matter what those orders might be.
In battle he was unrelenting, but he was never known to press unfairly
a beaten foe. He had no liking for his present duty on the coast of
Massachusetts. There was no glory in bullying defenceless villagers
and he had not exerted himself overmuch in the operations against Cape
Cod. But London had reminded him that there was a state of war between
the United States and Great Britain and that the government expected
some positive results from the blockade of the New England coast.
Raggett was stung by the sarcasm of the reminder. He knew his enemies
at headquarters were at work to discredit him and he was determined to
outwit them at any hazard.
He was, then, in no amiable mood as he addressed the Cape men:
“So you have been running the blockade in a whaleboat? Pretty small
business for shipmasters like you?”
“Shipmasters without a ship, Captain Raggett, and until captured
engaged in bringing necessaries of life from Boston to our town,”
replied Captain Knowles.
“By G----, sir!” cried Raggett with the suspicion of a smile, “your
people have a pretty good idea of what are necessaries of life. I find
that your cargo mostly consisted of good Jamaica rum.”
This rather upset Win, but Hoppy was equal to the occasion.
“It’s like this, Captain Raggett,” said he; “there’s been quite a lot
of sickness in the place, and we old sailors know there’s nothing can
break up a cold like the old-fashioned cure of rum and molasses.”
“Well, I’m afraid the invalids will have to suffer this trip.”
“Looks that way, Captain Raggett,” assented Hoppy dolefully.
“Now, my men,” said Raggett, “you know I have been very lenient about
this business. It’s not the sort of warfare I’m used to. But it’s got
to stop now. I’ve got myself into hot water with the authorities in
London on account of my leniency and I don’t mind telling you that I
don’t like being reprimanded by fellows who never went a mile to sea
in the whole course of their clerkly lives. But that has nothing to do
with the matter at present. Dick Raggett has got orders and, by George,
he’s going to obey them! I have had scouts out for you for some time,
and I’m going to hold you until ransomed.”
“Then that will be forever!” exclaimed Hoppy. “There’s no one to ransom
us, Captain Raggett. Of course, you can confiscate our boat and cargo,
and hold us prisoners, but if you fix the price too high for our means,
then that fixes us so far as we are concerned.”
“I must make an example of your capture,” replied Raggett, “because you
two are the most daring and successful of all the runners. But that
doesn’t mean that my terms can’t be met. I confess I admire your pluck
and resourcefulness.”
“Of course, Captain Raggett, we are entirely at your mercy,” said
Captain Knowles, “but we have no reason to fear harsh treatment so long
as we are in your hands. In the event of our not being able to meet
your terms, we stand a chance of being transferred from your ship. Some
Cape Cod men are just now in Dartmoor prison.”
“You will not be maltreated on the ‘Spencer,’ that I can promise. In
the event of transference to another ship, you must take your chances
with the rest.”
“If it would not be asking too much, Captain Raggett, we should like to
know what your terms are?”
Raggett paused for some minutes before replying. His usual good temper
was coming back. He saw that the men with whom he was dealing were
above the ordinary standard of the seamen of the period, both in
education and intelligence, and while he knew just what he wanted of
them, he was unwilling to alienate their good opinion of him by any
premature announcement of his plans.
“My friends,” said he, “I think we had better postpone the discussion
of that point until this evening. You must have a look over my ship. I
am sure she will please old skippers like you. Mr. Fotheringay, who has
given me some knowledge of your standing in your community, will take
you in charge. Meantime, permit me to offer you some of this special
brand.”
The Cape Codders raised their glasses. “Here’s to your good health,
Captain Raggett,” said Hoppy. “Let’s hope that this war will soon be
over and that our countries will never have another!”
“I heartily join you in that, my friends,” responded the British
commander. “At the same time, I can imagine the horror of some
gentlemen in London if they ever hear that ‘Old Dick Raggett’ was
clinking glasses with two of the most venturesome blockade runners on
the Massachusetts coast!”
With a laugh at the thought, he sent them on deck where Fotheringay
took charge of them.