Toward evening the young people again gathered about the captain,
asking that his story of naval exploits might be continued.
"I am not sure," he said pleasantly, "that to recount naval exploits is
the wisest thing I can do; it stirs my blood, and revives the old love
for the service."
"Oh, Papa, please don't ever, ever go back to your ship and leave us!"
exclaimed Gracie, tears starting to her eyes at the very thought.
"I am not at all sure that I would be accepted should I offer my
services again, my darling," he answered, drawing her into his arms and
caressing her tenderly; "but really I have no serious thought of so
doing."
"Oh, I'm glad of that, you dear Papa!" she said with a sigh of relief,
putting her arm about his neck and kissing him with ardent affection.
"So am I," said Lulu. "I don't know what I wouldn't rather have happen
than to be parted again for months and maybe years from my dear father."
A loving look was his reply as he drew her to his other side and
caressed her with equal tenderness.
At that little Elsie came running toward them. "Me too, Papa," she
said, "kiss me too, and let me sit on your knee while you tell 'bout
things that happened a long while ago."
"Yes, the baby girl has the best right to sit on Papa's knee when she
wants to," said Lulu, good-naturedly making way for the little one.
A loving look and smile from her father as he lifted the baby girl to
the coveted seat and gave her the asked for caress, amply rewarded her
little act of self-denial.
"I cannot begin to tell you to-day all the exploits of our navy even
during the first war with England," the Captain said; "you will have to
read the history for yourselves, and I trust will enjoy doing so, but
I shall try to relate some of the more prominent incidents in a way to
entertain you."
"What kind of flag did our naval vessels carry at the beginning of the
Revolutionary War, Captain?" asked Evelyn. "It was not till 1777, if my
memory serves me right, that our present flag was adopted by Congress."
"You are quite right," the Captain said, "and up to that time each
vessel of the little Continental navy carried one of her own choosing;
or rather each commander was allowed to choose a device to suit
himself. It is claimed for John Paul Jones that he raised with his own
hands the first flag of a regular American cruiser. The vessel was
Hopkins's flag-ship the 'Alfred.' It was at Philadelphia, early in 1776
the banner was raised. It had a white field, with the words 'Liberty
Tree' in the centre above a representation of a pine tree; beneath were
the words, 'Appeal to God.'"
"Yes, sir; but didn't some one about that time raise a flag composed of
thirteen stripes?" queried Eva.
"Quite true," replied the Captain, "and across it a rattlesnake;
underneath that, the words, 'Don't Tread On Me.'
"Both Continental vessels and privateers were very successful, and by
mid-summer of 1776 they had captured more than five hundred British
soldiers. There was a Captain Conyngham, a brave and skilful seaman,
who sailed from Dunkirk in May, 1777, in the brig 'Surprise,' under
one of the commissions which Franklin carried with him to France for
army and navy officers. (Those of you who have studied geography will,
I suppose, remember that Dunkirk is in the north of France.) Conyngham
was very successful; had in a few days captured the British packet ship
'Prince of Orange' and a brig, and returned with them to Dunkirk. The
English ambassador at Paris complained very strongly, and to appease
the wrath of the English, the French Government put the captain and his
crew in prison."
"Oh, what a shame!" cried Lulu.
Her father smiled slightly at that. "They were not kept there very
long," he said, "but were soon released, and Conyngham allowed to fit
out another cruiser, called the 'Revenge.'"
"A very suitable name," laughed Max.
"Yes," assented his father, and went on with his history. "The British
Government had sent two vessels to arrest Conyngham and his men as
pirates, but when they reached Dunkirk he had already sailed. Had
the British succeeded in taking them, they would no doubt have been
hanged as pirates; for both Government and people of Great Britain
were at that time much exasperated by the blows Americans were dealing
their dearest interest, commerce. 'The Revenge' was doing so much
injury,--making prizes of merchantmen, and so putting money into the
hands of the American commissioners for public use,--that the British
were at their wit's end; the people in the seaports were greatly
alarmed, and insurance on cargoes went up to twenty-five per cent. Some
of the British merchants sent out their goods in French vessels for
greater security,--so many of them, in fact, that at one time there
were forty French vessels together in the Thames taking in cargoes.
"At that time British transports were engaged in carrying German troops
across the Atlantic to fight the Americans. Conyngham was on the
look-out for these, but did not succeed in meeting with any of them."
"Such a despicable business as it was for George III to hire those
fellows to fight the people here!" exclaimed Max. "I wish Conyngham had
caught some of them. Papa, didn't he at one time disguise his ship and
take her into an English port to refit?"
"So it is said," replied the Captain; "it was for repairs, after a
storm. It is said also that he obtained supplies at one time in an
Irish port."
"Didn't British ships take ours sometimes, Papa?" asked Grace.
"Yes," he replied, "victory was not always on the side of the
Americans. The fast-sailing British frigates captured many
privateersmen and merchantmen, and considering their great superiority
of numbers it would have been strange indeed had that not been the
case. The war on the ocean was very destructive to both parties; yet
the Americans were, with reason, amazed and delighted with their
measure of success, astonishing in proportion to the odds against them.
"During that year--1776--they had captured three hundred and forty
British vessels; four had been burned, forty-five recaptured, and
eighteen released.
"It was in the fall of that year that Benedict Arnold commanded some
stirring naval operations on Lake Champlain. In the previous spring
the British had made preparations to invade the Champlain and Hudson
valleys, hoping thus to effect a separation between New England and the
other colonies which would naturally make it an easier task to conquer
both sections.
"To ward off that threatened danger the Americans holding Ticonderoga
and Crown Point--both on the lake as you will remember--constructed a
small squadron, the command of which was given to Arnold, who knew more
about naval affairs than any other available person. Three schooners,
one sloop, and five gondolas were armed and manned, and with this
little squadron Arnold sailed down to the foot of the lake and made
observations.
"In the mean time the British had heard of what was going on, and they,
too, had prepared a small squadron on the river Sorel, the outlet of
the lake. Their navy consisted of twenty-four gun-boats, each armed
with a field-piece or carriage-gun, and a large flat-bottomed boat
called the 'Thunderer,' carrying heavy guns.
"It was not till the middle of October that the fight took place.
Arnold, with his flotilla, was then lying between the western shore
of the lake and Valcour Island. The 'Congress' was his flag-ship. The
British attacked him, and a very severe fight followed. It was brought
to a conclusion only by the coming of a very dark night. The Americans
had lost the 'Royal Savage' in the action; the rest of the flotilla
fled up the lake, eluding the British in the darkness.
"The next morning the British followed; and all that day and the
following night the chase continued. Early the next morning the British
succeeded in coming up with the Americans, and another battle followed.
Arnold, who was on the galley 'Congress,' fought hard until his vessel
was nearly a wreck, then ran her and four others into a creek and set
them on fire to prevent their falling into the hands of the foe.
"Those who were left of the crews escaped and made their way to Crown
Point."
"Arnold did do good work for his country in the early part of the war,"
exclaimed Rosie. "If he had been killed in that fight he would always
have been considered as great a patriot as any other man of the time."
"Yes," replied the Captain with an involuntary sigh, "if he had fallen
then, or even some years later, his memory would have been as fondly
cherished as that of almost any other soldier of the Revolution. He
would have been considered one of the noblest champions of liberty.
Ah, what a pity he should turn traitor and make himself the object
of infamy, as lasting as the history of his native land, which he
attempted to betray into the hands of her foes!"
"Doubtless after years must have brought him many an hour of bitter
regret," said Mrs. Travilla, echoing the Captain's sigh. "Poor fellow!
I hope he repented and was forgiven of God, though his countrymen could
never forgive him. He had a pious mother who tried to train him up
aright, and certainly must have often prayed earnestly for her son; so
I hope he may have repented and found forgiveness and salvation through
the atoning blood of Christ."
"I would be glad indeed to know that he had, Mamma," said Violet.
"I too," added the Captain. "I think he must have been a very wretched
man in the latter years of his life."
"Was he treated well in England, Papa?" asked Lulu.
"Not by every one," replied her father; "some of the noble-minded there
showed him very plainly that they despised him for his treason. George
III. introduced him to Earl Balcarras, who had been with Burgoyne at
the battle of Bemis's Heights; but the earl refused his hand, and
turned on his heel saying, 'I know General Arnold, and abominate
traitors.'"
"How Arnold must have felt that!" exclaimed Rosie. "I would not have
liked to be in his shoes."
"Nor I," said her mother. "The British officers thoroughly despised
him, and there is an anecdote of a meeting he once had with Talleyrand
which must have been trying to his feelings, if he had any sense of
honour left.
"It seems that Talleyrand, who was fleeing from France during the
revolution there, inquired at the hotel where he was at the time, for
some American who could give him letters of introduction to persons
of influence here. He was told that an American gentleman was in an
adjoining room. It seems it was Arnold, though no one, I suppose, knew
who he was. Talleyrand sought an interview with him, and made his
request for letters of introduction, when Arnold at once retreated from
the room, as he did so saying with a look of pain on his face, 'I was
born in America, lived there till the prime of my life, but, alas! I
can call no man in America my friend.'"
"I should feel sorry for him in spite of that black act of treason,"
Violet said, "if he had not followed it up by such infamous deeds
against his countrymen, even those of them who had been his neighbours
and friends in his early years. I remember Lossing tells us that while
New Haven--set on fire by Arnold's band of Tories and Hessians--was
burning, he stood in the belfry of a church watching the conflagration
with probably the same kind of satisfaction that Nero felt in the
destruction of Rome. Think of such a murderous expedition against the
home and friends of his childhood and youth! the wanton destruction of
a thriving town! It showed him to be a most malicious wretch, worthy of
the scorn and contempt with which he was treated even by many of those
who had profited by his treason."
"Yes; 'the way of transgressors is hard,'" quoted her mother.