CONTRABAND GOODS.
It was greatly to the advantage of the swift _Noank_ that her larger
and even swifter enemy was having a battle of its own. The burly
commander of the _Clyde_ was compelled to surrender, for the time, to
the imperious demands of the polar gale. If it would have been at all
safe to have thrown open any of his ports, nothing worth while could
have been done with his guns. All that was left for him to do,
therefore, was to follow on as best he could in the wake of his
American prize. This could be done fairly well, for a while, although
he was not gaining upon her. Then, however, another of her natural
allies interfered, for darkness came over the sea, and his best hope
for catching the _Noank_ went out like an extinguished lantern.
Meantime, the captain had to listen, with undisguised vexation, to his
steward's dolorous account of the damage done to the delicacies in the
storeroom.
Far away, northerly, that very evening, a patriotic company of
Americans had gathered in a large and pretty well-lighted room.
Adjoining this were several other rooms, large and small, which were
occupied in very much the same manner. The house was the old Ledyard
mansion at New London, and all these women and girls had gathered
there, with one accord, for work, and not for fun. The brave owner of
the homestead, Colonel William Ledyard, was absent upon an errand to
Boston, and there were hardly any grown-up men in the assembly. There
were boys, indeed, brimming with patriotism, and these were evidently
feeling more than ordinarily warlike as they helped their grandmothers,
and mothers, and sisters, and aunts at the peculiar industry which had
brought them together.
It was neither a sewing society, nor a quilting bee, nor an apple
paring. There could not, however, have been more activity or
cheerfulness, even at a corn husking, and yet the cause of all this
enthusiasm and energy was serious indeed. All the busy fingers in
these rooms were putting up ball cartridges with the powder and lead
captured by Lyme Avery in the _Windsor_.
"What a pity it is that we cannot send them to Washington," said one of
the workers. "He will need them all pretty soon."
"I hope we'll never need them here," responded another, "but I suppose
the forts must be provided. The British may come. They have good
reasons for hating New London."
"It hath many bad people in it," came sarcastically from beyond the
table in the middle of the room. "I fear there is very little love
here for our good king. We think too little of all that he is trying
to do for us."
"Rachel Tarns," exclaimed Mrs. Ten Eyck, near her, "there's more news
from New York just in. Your good king is stirring up the Six Nations
again. There will be more trouble on that frontier."
"Not right away, I think," replied the Quakeress. "I have much faith
that the peaceful red men will remain in their wigwams during such
weather as this is. Should they not do so, I fear lest some of them
might be hurt by the frontiersmen, even if they are not frost-bitten."
"That's what I'm afraid of," said one of the larger boys. "Old Put
ought to be there. Washington used to be an Indian fighter. Killed
lots of 'em. I guess there won't any of 'em trouble us folks in
Connecticut."
"Thee is only a boy," laughed Rachel. "Thy Old Put could tell thee of
troubles with the red men not so very far away from this place. Thy
own house is upon land that once belonged to them. What would thee do
if they should come to take it away from thee?"
"I'd fight!" said the youngster. "My father's with Washington and my
brother's with Putnam. Mother and I are ready to shoot if any of 'em
come near our house."
"Rachel," said Mrs. Ten Eyck, "how is thy conscience this evening? How
is it that a Quaker can make cartridges?"
"I will tell thee," said Rachel. "I have it upon my mind that the more
cartridges we make, if they are used well, also, the sooner will this
wicked war be brought to an end. Thou knowest that the testimony of
the Friends is given for peace. Therefore do I rely much upon that
good friend, George Washington. He gave a strengthening testimony at
Trenton and Princeton."
Everybody had become accustomed to the dry and often bitter sayings of
the old Quakeress, and now a white-haired woman across the room
suddenly exclaimed:--
"Hear that wind! O dear! I wasn't thinking of redskins. So many of
our boys are at sea. Mine are with Lyme Avery. What wouldn't I give
to know just how they're doing!"
"Why, they are sailing south," replied Mrs. Avery. "If this storm
reaches 'em, it'll send 'em along. Lyme is used to rough weather."
Brave was she, and very brave were they all, and the "cartridge bee,"
as they called it, was a good illustration of the stubborn spirit of
freedom which made it impossible to conquer the colonies.
"The forts'll be safer," they said, as they packed up their dangerous
work and prepared to scatter to their homes through the icy storm. "We
must come and roll cartridges two evenings every week. Some of the
boys are putting in all their time to moulding bullets."
All of those boys were growing, too, and some who were only fit to melt
lead and run bullets at fourteen or fifteen would be in the ranks
before the end of the war. They would be Continental soldiers, for
instance, at such fights as that at Yorktown. Any country becomes
safer while its boys are eager to grow up for its defence, and are all
the while taking lessons that will prepare them for efficiency.
The next morning dawned quietly upon both land and sea. The norther
had blown itself out, and it had brought no great amount of snow with
it anywhere. It had been severe while it lasted, and then it had
departed, like any other unwelcome guest.
The streets of New London were cold and snowy, but they were not by any
means dreary or deserted that morning.
One more ocean prize had been brought in, and the report of it had gone
out in all directions. The sleighing was good over the country roads,
and the number of teams hitched along the sides of the lower streets
testified to the general hunger for news as well as for trade. The
sociability of all these arriving sleighing parties was tremendous, and
they seemed to be all of one mind concerning the events of the day.
That is, the one-mindedness here was exactly like, and yet exactly
opposed, to the one-mindedness which ruled upon Manhattan Island, not
so far away. Whigs here, Tories there, were equally earnest,
determined, and hopeful.
In New York as in New London, it was currently reported that a number
of the more active business men were actually making fortunes by the
war. Not a great many rebel vessels had been brought into New York
harbor as prizes, but all that did come in, and that were condemned and
sold, offered opportunities for speculation. The best of the town
trade came from the army and navy, but there were still a few small
driblets coming in from the interior. It was worthy of note, perhaps,
that furs, for instance, should sometimes reach New York from the
north, from regions beyond Albany. These were smuggled down the Hudson
River, nobody knew how. It had been suggested, of course, by sharp
people, that American commanders might be willing to shut their eyes
while a fur trader went in, provided they were to have a talk with him
on his return.
In like manner, it was said, the British generals had no objections
whatever to the arrival of fellows who were certified to them as
"well-known Tories," who could give them abundant information
concerning the ragged, starving, worthless condition of the rebel
forces in and above the Hudson highlands.
No doubt, too, it was encouraging to the military and other servants of
the king to hear, from honest and loyal fur traders, how the rebels of
the Mohawk Valley were dispirited by the defeats of Washington's army,
and how they were preparing to turn against the Continental Congress.
Best of all, perhaps, was the assurance thus brought that all the Six
Nations and the Hurons of the woods were ready to take the war-path in
the spring as the allies of England.
If there were sailors ashore on leave that morning, from many of the
other ships in the harbor, there were none from the _Termagant_, for
she was under orders to sail. Captain Luke Watts himself had a call of
ceremony to make, at an early hour, relating to those very orders, for
he was to give in his last report of the condition of his ship and
crew. The "port captain," to whom his report was to be made, was the
commander of a lordly seventy-four. In the absence of any admiral he
was the "commodore" of all the naval forces in and about the harbor.
Captain Watts was kept on deck in waiting for a few minutes only, and
when he was summoned to the cabin he found the commodore by no means
alone. The mere skipper of a transport was not asked to take a seat in
such a presence, and Luke stood, hat in hand, respectfully, while his
presented papers were read and approved.
"Now, Watts," said the commodore, "what course do you take, homeward
bound?"
"As far no'th as I can get, sir," replied Luke, "for good reasons."
"Give your reasons."
"Well, sir, from what I heard at New London, the rebel pirates are
aimin' at our West Injy trade. They'll hang 'round the reg'lar course,
too, the southern track. I jest mean to steer out o' their way."
"Good!" said the commodore. "What else did you hear among the Yankees?"
"Well, sir," replied the Tory sailor, "they said, and they seemed to
know, that our cruisers off the Havana are mostly heavy craft that
can't chase 'em through the channels and over the shoals and 'mong the
lagoons. What we need, sir, is a lot o' light draft vessels there, and
well armed, too."
"Make a note of all this, lieutenant," exclaimed the commodore. "This
man Watts has brought in good advice before this. Whatever he brings
is said to be of practical value. Go on, man! What next?"
"Well, sir," said Watts, "before I left Liverpool the last time, I
heard a p'int. I must look sharp after I get over and want to run in.
I must say it, sir, the Irish and English coast is only half guarded.
We haven't half enough ships on duty there. Next we know, we'll hear
of Yankee pirates in St. George's Channel."
"Note it! note it!" exclaimed the commodore, loudly. "It's just so!
What with so many of our best cruisers ordered to America and the
Antilles and the Mediterranean, and to the China seas, our own home
coasts are left to be defended by old hulks and mere revenue cutters.
The Yankees can run away from the heavy tubs, and they can smash all
the smuggler catchers. We shall hear bad news, next. Watts, take your
own course. Get in how you can. You're a man we can rely on. Go,
now, sir."
"My ship'll get in, sir," said Luke, almost too sturdily. "I wish I
was as sure 'bout some others. I'm afraid they're going to crack our
traders 'mong the islands."
"That'll do! Go!" he was told, and he went out, leaving behind him a
very capable naval officer in a decidedly uncomfortable state of mind.
"Gentlemen," he said to his officers, "all that he says is only too
true. I am sorry it is, but I am intending to embody it in my report
to the Admiralty. The unpleasant thing for us is, however, that we
can't spare anything or send anything, from this fleet and station, to
prevent the mischief that's threatened among the Antilles."
They all agreed with him. All of them considered, also, that the man
Luke Watts had given valuable information and suggestions. He had done
so, doubtless, but he had not thereby done anything to hinder the
future operations of any Yankee privateer.
He was rowed back to the _Termagant_, and when he arrived somebody was
waiting for him on her deck.
"Feller named Allen," he was told by a sailor at the rail. "He's a
kind o' fur pedler, I'd say, with a permit from one o' the generals, I
don't know who."
"All right," said Watts. "Fetch him below, packs and all. I'll see if
his papers are reg'lar. We don't make any loose work on this ship."
"Ay, ay, sir," said the sailor.
Sharp as was his examination of them a moment later, he seemed to be
entirely satisfied with the documents presented to him by the man named
Allen. He had obtained the customary authority, as a loyal merchant of
the port of New York, to ship by the _Termagant_ to his agent in
London, a properly scheduled assortment of valuable furs. All had been
officially inspected and approved.
"Come down below," said Captain Watts. "All your packages are down.
I'll give these things another overhauling in my cabin."
"Certainly, Captain Watts," replied Mr. Allen. "Whatever you wish."
He was even willing to help carry down the furs, and one of the smaller
parcels of them was in his hand when they reached the cabin. He still
held it after the door was shut and bolted, leaving him and the captain
alone together. Then his entire manner changed somewhat suddenly, and
he threw his parcel down upon the table.
"Captain Luke Watts," he said, "that's it. You'd best take out the
papers, now, and stow 'em away somewhere. You ain't sure there won't
be another look taken at the furs 'fore you git away. I wouldn't risk
it. They're getting suspicious, all 'round."
Open came the parcel, as he spoke, and in the very middle of it lay a
bundle of such materials as would ordinarily have been sent through a
post-office.
"It's about all the cargo I'll have, of any consequence," remarked
Luke, staring down at the unexpected mail.
"General Schuyler told me to say," replied Allen, "that all these are
of great importance. Some are from him to his friends in England.
You'll know how to have 'em delivered. Some are to go to Holland and
some to Paris. That last is all the way from the Congress at
Philadelphia. It got to me by way of Morristown and one of our Jersey
Tories, you know. That's old Ben Franklin's own handwriting."
"I'll see that they go straight through," said Luke, quietly. "I'll
put 'em safe away, now, first thing."
"You'll swing at a yard-arm inside o' one day, if you're ketched with
'em," said Allen. "I've been up among the Six Nations, all the way
through to Niagara, for my brother's concern on Pearl Street. I went
to buy furs for them, you see, and did first-rate. I fetched along
packs o' news, too, for the British commanders. It was risky business,
working my way through Putnam's lines, though. I came pretty nigh to
being shot or hung by the rebels, you know."
"Ye-es, I know," responded Luke. "They came jest about as nigh as that
to hangin' me, they did. The bloodthirsty pirates! Get ashore, now,
Allen. I'll land your furs for ye. I hope your concern'll make a good
thing out of 'em."
"Finest furs you ever saw," laughed Allen. "Look out for spies and
searchers. Here's good success to good King George--Washington, and
may the glorious flag of England float victoriously--till we pull it
down! Luke Watts, I'm the poisonest kind of Tory, I am!"
"Jest like me," said Watts. "I've done all I can to put down this 'ere
wicked rebellion."
"I've heard so," said Allen. "We got the news all the way from
Connecticut. You delivered a whole ship's cargo of heavy guns and
muskets and ammunition to the loyal-hearted Tories of New London. I
was born there once, myself. I know just how faithfully they love
their king and his blessed Parliament. Good-by, Luke! A successful
voyage to you. Keep out o' the way of pirates."
"I must, this time," said Watts. "If I don't, I'll never get another
ship to carry furs and things in."
Up on deck they went, and the last words uttered by Allen did not have
to be whispered.
"Take good care of your neck, Captain," he called out, from his boat.
"If you're caught, this time, you'll never see New York again, or
Marblehead, either."
"I guess he's about right," said Mate Brackett, gazing after the boat.
"I'd say you seem to be a man that the rebels have set a mark on."
"Never you mind," said Watts. "We won't be ketched by 'em, that's all.
The commodore says we may sail our own course. We'll git there."
"All right, sir," said Brackett. "We've a queer lot o' chaps with us
this trip, but we'll work 'em."
What he meant by that was that all the prime seamen were needed by the
war-ships, and that almost anything on two feet had been deemed good
enough for an old transport ship going home in ballast.
"We'll have to travel under light canvas, I take it," remarked
Brackett, as he looked at his crew. "It'd be all night and part o'
next day for them to shorten sail in a hurry."
The boat which carried Mr. Allen, the loyal fur trader, reached the
shore. On getting out of it, he walked until he came to a dwelling a
short distance easterly from what the fire had left of old Pearl
Street. He entered without knocking and passed through the house to
the kitchen in the rear, where a comely, middle-aged woman stood before
an open fireplace, watching a pot which was hanging on the crane.
"Sally Allen," he said, in a somewhat low and guarded tone, "the
captain took the furs. It's all right."
"It is if they don't find him out," she said, gloomily. "I think you
are running awful risks, Tom. The sooner you are back again in the
Mohawk Valley, the better for you."
"I shall get there," he told her; "that is, if I'm not shot before I
pass the Dunderberg. I mustn't stay here, though. I must be in a
canoe at Spuyten Duyvil Creek before morning."
"They make short work of spies, Tom," she said. "Think of what they
did to Nathan Hale. I used to know him, years ago, in New London."
"Sally," he said, "I want you to mark just one thing. He isn't
forgotten! One o' these days there'll be some first-rate British
officer captured, a good deal as Hale was, with papers on him, playing
spy. Whenever that happens, our side won't show any mercy. The spy'll
have to swing!"
"That's all wrong!" she exclaimed. "I hate to think of it. All
revenge is wicked. It's awful to think of killing one man because
somebody somewhere else killed another."
"Now, Sally, that isn't it exactly," replied Tom. "What we mean is
that all the spy hanging isn't to be done on one side o' this war.
What's right for them is right for us."
"No!" she said. "It isn't so! It's like so many red savages to talk
in that way. We don't take scalps, just because they do, nor kill
women and children. I'm a true American woman, and I believe in
righting, but I don't want any stain left on our side."
"There won't be any," said Tom. "I'm going ahead, if they do hang me.
I'm running Nathan Hale's risk, all the while."
"God protect you!" she said. "Do you feel sure you can creep through?"
"I've done it before," he replied. "What I'm thinking of, the worst
thing for me, is the new line of pickets along the river bank. I shall
be fired at, pretty sure, before I can paddle on into the Hudson
Narrows. There'll be some risk from our own pickets above Anthony's
Nose. I guess they'll all miss me. I've one package, though; that's
all weighted, ready to drop into the water if I'm exhausted. I'd make
out to sink it, if I was dying. Now, give me some supper."
"Oh, Tom!" she said, "God keep us!"