MY COMMAND ENDS.--AT SEA ON BOARD THE ORPHEUS.--ON A LEE-SHORE.--
SAVED.--SENT UP PROVIDENCE RIVER.--THREATENED BY FIRE-SHIPS.--EMPLOYMENT
OF SPIES.--THE OLD SPY AND HIS NEPHEW.--ATTACKED BY FIRE-SHIPS.--
EXECUTION OF THE SPIES.--SAIL ON A CRUISE WITH OTHER FRIGATES.--PRIZES
TAKEN.--A PRIVATEER ESCAPES US IN A GALE.--CHASE VESSELS ON SHORE.--
EXPOSED TO HEAVY FIRE.--NARROW ESCAPE.--MY YOUNG MESSMATE WOUNDED.
"Well, skipper, I'm afraid our cruise is at an end," said Delisle,
coming into my cabin one morning as I sat discussing such a breakfast as
rarely fell in those days to the share of a midshipman before my warm
stove.
"Oh, bird of ill omen, why croak you forth such dire intelligence?" I
asked, as he threw off his snow-covered coat, and prepared to join me in
my meal with a look which made me fear there were not many more such in
store for us.
"Because, by the pricking of my thumbs, something evil this way comes,
in the shape of the `Orpheus,' of which I caught a glimpse as I came
along, standing into the harbour," he replied, knocking the top off an
egg.
We had been reading Shakespeare, and various other literary productions,
and had become somewhat poetical in our style of conversation. My
messmate's information was but too true--that very afternoon we received
orders to deliver up our prizes to the agents, and to rejoin our ship.
With what sorrow of heart did I bid farewell to my neat cabin, my airy
sleeping-place, my comfortable sofa, my warm stove, and all the other
luxuries with which I had been surrounded; and with what thorough
disgust and discontent did I take possession, after my long absence, of
my berth on board the old Orpheus! Really, I had no right to complain,
and I was truly glad to see many of my shipmates again.
The heavy islands of ice, which came floating down with each ebb,
threatening to crush in the bows of the ship, compelled us to move down
close to the fish-market, where we were sheltered from them.
On the 20th, having received on board a number of rebel prisoners, whom
we were to take round to Rhode Island, we sailed in company with HMS
Solebay, Daphne, and Harriet packet, but parted with them off Sandy
Hook. Our passengers were in a very sad state of destitution and
sickness. Fever soon broke out among them, and it spread rapidly among
our crew.
We quickly were doomed also to experience another of the numerous ills
which seamen are heirs to. This was a gale of wind which sprung up
about midnight from the south-east, catching us most completely on a
lee-shore. We had made but little offing, and every minute the wind
increased, and we, I saw, were drifting closer and closer onto the coast
of Long Island. Captain Hudson, Mr Willis, and Mr Flood, the master,
were in earnest consultation.
"What will you give for our chance of saving the ship?" said Delisle to
me as we stood holding on to the weather bulwarks, while the spray in
dense masses was breaking over us--the ship heeling over till her
lee-guns were buried in water with the heavy press of canvas it was
necessary to carry to give us a hope of beating off.
"A midshipman's half-pay for a week and a day, unless the wind shifts or
moderates," I answered. "I believe the old barkie was never in greater
peril. If we save the people's lives we shall be fortunate."
"So the captain seems to think. I never saw him more anxious," replied
Delisle. "My idea is that we shall have to cut away the masts and
anchor. My only consolation is that if we escape with our lives, it is
the only part of the coast where we should not to a certainty be made
prisoners of war."
I agreed with Delisle. To anchor would be our only resource, but one on
which I feared we could place very little reliance. The anchors might
hold; but with the whole roll of the Atlantic tumbling in on us, and the
terrific gale there was already blowing, and every instant increasing, I
felt that there was small chance of their so doing. Dark and darker
grew the night, higher and higher rose the sea, and fiercer and more
furious blew the wind. Still the stout ship struggled bravely on; her
lee-side pressed deep into the water, while torrents of foam broke over
her weather-bow and deluged us fore and aft. It seemed doubtful indeed
whether the masts would long stand the tremendous strain put upon them.
High above the roaring of the tempest was occasionally heard the ominous
voice of the man in the chains as he sung out the depth of water in
which we floated, showing that we were slowly though surely shallowing
it.
That dark and terrific night will not easily pass from my memory.
Captain Hudson had ordered the cables to be ranged in readiness to
anchor. The carpenter and his crew were sent for, and ordered to
prepare for the last desperate expedient of cutting away the masts.
Every now and then, as a bright flash of lightning darted from the sky,
they might be seen with their gleaming axes uplifted, ready at a moment
to execute the fatal order. Everybody was on deck, for our danger was
apparent to all.
"What shall we have to do?" asked little Harry Sumner, as he stood
shivering with the cold by my side.
"Obey orders and trust in Providence, my boy," said I. "If the anchors
don't hold and the ship goes to pieces, we may have to swim for it, and
then, Harry, keep an eye on me, and if I can lend you a helping hand, I
will. I must not promise too much, for I may not be able to help
myself."
"Thank you, Hurry, thank you. Oh, I am sure you will do all you can for
me," said the boy gratefully.
The coolest man on board was the captain. He stood on the weather-side
of the quarter-deck, one hand holding on by a stanchion, the other
grasping his speaking-trumpet, his hair streaming from beneath his hat,
and his coat-tails fluttering in the gale. I love to picture our brave
commander as he appeared at that moment, when he knew the lives of
hundreds depended on his calmness and decision.
"By the deep nine," was heard from the man in the chains. Scarcely had
the words been uttered, when down came the tempest on us with redoubled
fury, and the wind and sea roared so loudly that it would scarcely have
been possible to have heard his voice again. Suddenly there was a lull.
"By the mark eight," was now heard with startling distinctness. A flash
of lightning revealed the captain as he raised his speaking-trumpet to
his mouth. We knew what was coming. At that very moment the sails gave
a loud flap against the masts, the ship plunged violently, but rose on
an even keel. The captain took the trumpet from his mouth. Suddenly
the gale backed out of its former quarter, and shifted to the
north-west. There was a shout of satisfaction; some few, perhaps,
breathed a prayer of thankfulness for our preservation as we ran off
from the dangerous coast.
On the 23rd we reached Rhode Island. The fever had spread so rapidly
among our men that in a few days we sent no less than ninety of them to
the hospital on shore, while we kept an equal number of sick on board.
On the 27th the commodore sent us a hundred men from other ships, and
ordered us to cruise for a month in Buzzard's Bay, between New Bedford
Harbour and Martha's Vineyard. The latter quaint-named place is one of
the many islands off that coast inside Nantucket Island. The extreme
severity of the weather made our cruise thoroughly disagreeable, and
much prevented the people from recovering their health; indeed, it
considerably increased the number of our sick. In truth, it was very
tantalising and provoking to be kept for nearly a week knocking about
for no purpose scarcely ten leagues from our port without being allowed
to enter it. At last the captain could stand it no longer, so we put
back on the 3rd of March, and were forthwith sent up Providence River as
an advanced ship. Here we had frequent skirmishes with the enemy, who
took a sly pop at us whenever they could, but without doing us much
damage. On the 10th of March we received orders to proceed to sea
immediately. We sailed accordingly that night, and the next morning
captured a sloop from Charleston, bound to Boston with dye and indigo.
That night we anchored under Block Island, and for some days cruised
about in the hopes of picking up some prizes, I conclude. I fancy that
the commodore had received notice that some vessels with valuable
cargoes might be expected in the neighbourhood about that time. We
anchored in Martha's Vineyard on the 16th, where some of our youngsters
expected to find grapes growing, and were much disappointed on
discovering that none were to be found there, especially in March, and
two days after we once more returned to Rhode Island without having made
another capture. We were quickly sent off again, and, having bagged a
prize, returned on the 3rd of April, when we were ordered up the river
to relieve the Cerberus as the advance-ship off Providence, our station
being between the Island of Prudence and the mainland. A glance at the
map will show the number of islands in that fine estuary, which
terminates in Providence Bay. On one of them, called the Island of
Hope, near which the ship was generally at anchor, to vary the monotony
of a sea life we employed ourselves in the cultivation of gardens. Our
horticultural knowledge was not very extensive, but we managed during
our stay to raise various crops of quick-growing esculents, and on our
departure we disposed of our property to our respective brother-officers
belonging to the ship which relieved us. Our life was, however, far
from one of Arcadian simplicity, for we were constantly aroused by war's
rude alarms, and had every night to row guard in three flat-bottomed
boats ahead of the ship, to prevent a surprise. The enemy were ever on
the alert, endeavouring to find some means of destroying us. This was
but natural, as we were completely putting a stop to their commerce, on
which their existence mainly depended. We had, however, a number of
spies employed, who brought us information of all the plots formed
against us. Some brought us information, influenced by a spirit of
loyalty to the king, and a belief that they were serving a good cause;
but others were mercenary wretches, who were willing to be employed by
those who paid them the highest. The reports of these latter, though it
was necessary to employ them, were always received with great caution by
our captain. He could scarcely conceal the disgust he felt for them.
One morning, about ten days after our arrival, as we were washing decks
at sunrise, while I happened to be looking over the ship's side, I
observed a small boat standing towards us from Prudence Island. As she
drew near, I saw that there were two men in the boat. They were dressed
as ordinary seamen. One was a young man of nineteen or twenty; the
other was much older, with his hair already turning grey--a stout,
strong-featured, healthy-looking man. The younger man was rather tall,
and had a pleasant, honest face. When the sentry hailed them, they
asked leave to come on board to see the captain. Captain Hudson was
already up. I went to inform him of their arrival, and by his desire
conducted them to him. Their manner was frank and open, and they seemed
to have made a favourable impression on the captain. When they left the
cabin he ordered them to be carefully provided and looked after. I
afterwards had much conversation with them. The elder had been a
soldier in his youth, and served the king in many parts of the world.
They were both imbued with an almost romantic feeling of loyalty. "King
George was always a good and kind master to me, and I'm not going to
desert him when he most wants me because his ministers choose to do what
some of the people of this country don't like," said the elder man. "I
got a wound in his service in my thigh here, so I can't march and carry
a musket as I did once, or I would have gone down and joined the
royalists at New York, but there are other ways of serving his Majesty,
though they are somewhat risky, I own; but what of that? every man
should be ready to die in a good cause. It's very bad, though, all this
fighting and bloodshed among folks of the same race and kindred, and
now, if they'd followed my advice, I don't think it would ever have come
about. As I used to say to my nephew, Amos Weeks here, `Amos,' said I,
`wait a bit and don't be in a hurry. Write and petition against the
taxes as much as you like. Taxes must be laid on, and somebody must pay
them, and if we don't like them we must petition, as I say; but anything
beyond that will be rank treason and rebellion, and that's wicked and
abominable. Suppose this country was to become free and independent as
they talk of, what would the people do? Either they must make General
Washington a king, or they will soon quarrel among themselves and cut
their own throats.'" The old soldier spoke so earnestly, and there
seemed to be so much good sense in what he said, that I put it down. He
certainly proved himself a very good advocate of the king's cause. From
him we learned that the enemy were about to make a grand attack on us
with their fire-ships, and in the hurry and confusion which would
necessarily ensue they hoped to enable three of their frigates, which
had long been waiting an opportunity, to run past us and to get to sea.
That night we were doubly on our guard, though we could scarcely
increase the precautions we had already taken. It was very dark, with a
strongish breeze blowing down the river. There had been almost a gale
in the day, with a heavy rain, which would have afforded the enemy a
greater chance of success had we not been on the watch for them. Mr
Gaston, our third lieutenant, Delisle, and I had charge of the three
boats. Our ears were more likely to serve us than our eyes, considering
the thick darkness with which we were surrounded. My boat was the
headmost--that is, farther up the river than the rest. Grampus was with
me. "Hist, sir, didn't you hear the chirp of a block?" said he in a
whisper. "The lubbers should have taken care to use more grease if they
wanted to surprise us." I fancied I had heard the same sound. We
listened breathlessly while the crew lay on their oars. It came from up
the river, directly ahead of us. "Ah! there it is again," said I. For
some time we waited without moving, all hands peering into the darkness.
At length I thought I discerned one spot darker than the surrounding
atmosphere. I gazed at it earnestly. Gradually the spot increased in
density till it resolved itself into the hull of a vessel, with canvas
set, standing directly down towards us. There could be no doubt that
her intention must be to run aboard the Orpheus, and that she must be a
fire-ship. "Give way, my lads," I whispered, steering directly for her
bows. The instant we reached them we threw on board the grapnels we had
prepared for that purpose, and began to tow her away across the stream.
As we did so a fire of musketry was opened on us from her deck, which
wounded one of our men. We had no time to reply to it, nor was it
repeated, the crew of the fire-ship having taken to their boat. The
sound and flash of the fire-arms brought the other boats to our
assistance, and they began to pepper away at the retreating boat as she
was disappearing in the gloom. In less than a minute she was no longer
to be seen. For another instant there was a perfect silence, then
suddenly a bright light shot up from the hold of the fire-ship, flames
burst forth from her ports and from every quarter, and climbed up her
rigging, while fire-balls and all sorts of missiles of destruction
leaped forth in every direction, a bright glare extending far and wide
over the broad stream showing us our own ship on one side, with her
spars and rigging in bold relief, traced against the dark sky; and on
the other, towards Providence, it shone on the white sails of three or
four large ships and several smaller ones, which we concluded were
fire-ships. We fully expected an abundance of hot work.
Notwithstanding the great risk we ran of destruction, we towed lustily
away till we had got the fire-ship well out into the stream, so that
there was no longer any risk of her drifting down on the Orpheus; while
fortunately, as we had a long painter, we escaped without injury. We
knew that before she reached the other ships she would have burnt out,
so we cast off and prepared to grapple with any more of the same ugly
customers which might be sent against us. The Orpheus had, in the mean
t ime, sent all her boats to our assistance, and together we waited in
expectation of the attack; but hour after hour passed away, and when the
morning dawned our mysterious and phantom-like enemies had, like the
ghosts of romance, disappeared from the landscape. The adventure of the
night would have seemed like a dream, had it not been for our wounded
comrade and the charred bits of wood which lay scattered about the boat.
This night's work I describe as a specimen of what frequently occurred
during our stay in the river. The following night I was sent on shore
to land our two spies, that they might learn what were the next
movements proposed by the enemy.
"Good-bye, Mr Meeks, good-bye," said I, as I landed the old soldier;
"it is hazardous work you are on, so be cautious."
"I know that, sir," said he, "I know that; but the man who would serve
his country must be ready to risk life and property, and all he holds
dear."
I have sometimes, long, long since then, thought, if people were but as
ready to devote themselves to the service of their Creator as they are
body, mind, soul, and strength, for the purpose of carrying out some
worldly objects, how much better would it be for their spiritual good,
for their eternal welfare!
For several nights after this the enemy were very quiet; no attempt was
made with their fire-ships, nor were we aware that their boats ever came
near us. We therefore began to suspect that they meditated an attack of
greater magnitude than heretofore. We therefore looked somewhat
anxiously for the information which we hoped our spies would be able to
supply. Nothing was done, however, till the evening of the 20th, when
Captain Hudson sent for me. "Mr Hurry," said he, "Lieutenant Douglas
of the `Chatham' has received orders to go on shore at midnight to bring
off our spies, the two Meekses. You are to accompany him. It is a
delicate service, and I must caution you to be careful that none of your
men do anything to give the alarm. I send you on the expedition as I
know that I can trust to your discretion."
I thanked him for the good opinion he was so often pleased to express of
me, and went below to prepare for what was before me. I took Grampus
and Tom with me, and a picked boat's crew, and at the hour arranged
shoved off from the ship's side. Mr Douglas had come on board in the
afternoon. He had to communicate with a person on shore, while I had to
look-out for the spies. It was a darkish night, but there was very
little wind, so that it was necessary to muffle our oars in order that
our approach might not be perceived. As we pulled over the still
waters, in which here and there the reflection of a star might be seen,
as it peeped out between the clouds, we could just distinguish the
fringe-like tops of the trees which surrounded the sheltered nook
towards which we were steering. All was still as death as we approached
the shore. We ran into the nook and landed. Two men were left in
charge of the boat, and while Mr Douglas proceeded to the place where
he was to meet the person he had appointed to see, I led the men through
the wood to a spot where two roads met, and where the Meekses had
arranged to be in waiting. I whistled twice very low as agreed on, but
no one answered. Telling Grampus to wait, I walked along the road in
the hopes of meeting our friends; but seeing no one, I returned to await
their coming. It occurred to me, that as strangers might be passing it
would be unwise to expose my men to view; so I posted them behind a
thicket, and sat down where I was myself concealed, and could at the
same time command a view along the roads as far as the light would
allow. I had remained there fully half an hour, when I heard footsteps
approaching at a rapid rate. The person stopped where the road branched
off, as if in uncertainty which to take. I was about to rush forward
with my men to seize him, when I recognised Mr Douglas. "We shall have
to retreat to the boats, I fear," said he; "some one has given
information that we are here, and the neighbourhood is alarmed; but we
must wait till the last moment for the poor fellows we were sent to
bring off."
Ten minutes, or rather more, elapsed when we heard footsteps advancing
along one of the roads. They came at a leisurely pace, as if the people
were in no hurry. I gave the signal. It was answered by the persons
approaching. "All's right," I observed to Mr Douglas; but almost as I
spoke, the dark figures of a body of men could be distinguished in the
gloom, turning a corner of the other road. Seeing this, Mr Douglas had
no resource but to give the order to our party to retreat, for it was
very evident that the enemy far outnumbered us. As we did so, I called
to the spies to hasten forward, for I knew that we could no longer
remain concealed. Hearing my voice, the two men ran on; but at the same
time our foes advanced at a double quick step along the road. I saw
that not a moment was to be lost if we would save the lives of old Meeks
and his nephew; so, calling on Grampus and Tom, I made a dash forward in
the hopes of checking the enemy till we could meet them. Unfortunately
the rebels were too quick in their movements for us, and before we could
reach the fork of the road they had already gained the same place, and
effectually prevented us from saving our friends whom we had too much
reason to apprehend had fallen into their hands, unless they had been
able to save themselves by flying in an opposite direction. From what I
had seen of the old soldier, I feared he was not likely to run even on
an occasion like the present. Mr Douglas now hailed me to return, and
of course I did so as fast as I could, as I should inevitably have been
made a prisoner. As it was we had enough to do to keep our enemies at
bay, and had not the darkness prevented them from learning the smallness
of our numbers, they might easily have surrounded us. Though they
pressed us hard we kept as close together as the nature of the ground
would allow, and every now and then, led on by Mr Douglas, we uttered
loud cries and shouts, as if we were going to make a rush on them. The
stems of the trees also assisted to protect us from the fire which they
opened on us, so that not a man was hit. We were not sorry, however, to
reach our boats, when we jumped in with no little haste, for the
Americans were close upon us. They were almost seizing the bows of the
boat before we had time to get out the oars and shove into the stream.
One, indeed, had seized the painter, but Tom Rockets dealt him such a
blow with his cutlass that he was glad to let go. The enemy now rushed
down in numbers to the shore, and began firing away at us as fast as
they could load. Fortunately in the darkness our boat offered no very
certain mark; but the shot came flying about us, spluttering into the
water like a shower of hail. Now and then, _thud_--that peculiar
sound--gave notice that a bullet had struck the boat, but not a man was
hit. As soon as we had got a little way off, we pulled up the stream,
and then steered for the ship so as to mislead the enemy as to the
course we had taken. Long after they must have lost sight of us the
flash of their muskets showed that they were still peppering away in the
direction in which they supposed we had gone.
We reached the ship without further adventure. Captain Hudson was very
sorry to find that we had come off without the spies; but he at once saw
that this was owing to no fault of ours.
The next morning, as the first lieutenant, as usual, was sweeping the
shore with his glass, an exclamation of horror he uttered made me point
mine in the same direction. There, directly abreast of the ship, hung
suspended on the branches of a tree scathed by lightning two human
forms--one was stout and short, the other tall and slight. There was
too much reason to believe that they were the bodies of our unfortunate
spies. No one was near them. Solitary they swung on the river shore, a
warning to others who might be inclined to follow their example--a sad
result of the ruthless necessity of war. They probably had been seized
and executed directly after they were captured. We could not blame the
Americans. Our generals had frequently been compelled to do the same
with their spies whom they had taken, but even this did not put a stop
to the system. The sad spectacle I have described saluted our eyes
whenever we turned towards the shore; and I, for one, was very sorry for
the fate of Meeks and his nephew; but I must confess that we were
becoming so accustomed to the sights and horrors of warfare that such
sensations lasted but a short time.
I forgot to mention that one of the pieces of information Meeks brought
us was that our messmate Kennedy, who had charge of one of the prizes
taken off Cape May, had been taken by the rebels, and was now a prisoner
of war in their hands. It was with no slight satisfaction that we saw
the Greyhound come up to relieve us on the 30th of May, when we made
over to our brother-officers belonging to her the full right to all the
productions of the gardens we had so assiduously cultivated on the
Island of Hope. On the 1st of June we ran down the river and anchored
off Newport, and on the 3rd sailed on a cruise towards the Bay of Fundy,
in company with the Amazon and Juno frigates. The officers and ships'
companies of the three ships had previously agreed to share the
prize-money which might be made on the cruise.
I should be almost afraid of wearying my readers, were I to give a
minute account of all the captures we effected and the adventures we met
with, but still I do not like altogether to pass them by. Our main
object, however, was to intercept the American Commodore Manley, but as
he had a force much superior to ours, it was absolutely necessary for us
to keep together, or we might have found ourselves very much the worse
for the encounter. Had it not been for this, we should have taken many
more prizes than we did; indeed, we were compelled to allow numbers of
considerable value to pass by without going in chase. On the 26th we
took a sloop from Philadelphia bound for Boston with rice. On the 26th
we re-took a brig from Oporto, bound to London, which had been captured
by a rebel privateer off Scilly. We sent her to New York, but we never
heard anything more of her, so that she must either have foundered or
have been taken by the enemy. In the latter case the prize-master and
crew must have joined them. On the 11th we took a vessel laden with
lumber, which we burnt, and on the 14th a sloop with wood, which we gave
up to the owners, as they were royalists; and on the 16th we took a brig
with fish and lumber from Boston to the West Indies. At length, on the
23rd at daybreak, a flush-deck ship was seen becalmed within two miles
of us. We made out that she was pierced for twenty guns, and from her
appearance we had no doubt that she was a rebel privateer. The boats
were ordered out immediately, but before they were in the water a breeze
sprang up, and setting every stitch of canvas she could carry, away she
went before the wind. We at the same time made sail in chase with our
consorts, which were a little astern of us, and of course we had every
hopes of making an important capture. By this time the rebel government
had given letters of marque, not only to Americans, but to the
inhabitants of various other countries, who, under their flag, had
become very troublesome to our trade, and it had become necessary to
endeavour to put a stop to the system.
The privateer soon showed us that she had a remarkably fast pair of
heels, and it became doubtful, after a couple of hours' chase, whether
we had gained much, if anything on her. Sometimes the wind increased,
and then our greater size and wider spread of canvas gave us the
advantage, so that our hopes of capturing her rose and fell somewhat as
did the breeze.
We had the whole of the day before us, and a day it was of no little
excitement. We kept the lead, our consorts following, one on either
quarter, to be ready to cut her off, should the breeze shift, and place
her to windward. Hour after hour passed, and still we were no nearer to
her.
"What chance have we of getting hold of her?" said I to Grampus, who was
standing with me forward, keeping a look-out on her.
"Why, sir, do ye see a stern chase is a long chase, as every one knows,
but a flaw of wind or a bit of a calm, or somewhat of that sort, may
throw her into our power, so that from all I've seen, and you know
that's not a little, Mr Hurry, I says never give up a-following an
enemy as long as you can keep eyes on her. When once you loses sight of
her, why, then its all guess-work, and a chance that you ever claps eyes
on her again."
I ever after remembered Grampus's observations both when chasing and
being chased, and frequently experienced their practical wisdom.
Everything was done to increase the speed of the ships, the sails were
drenched with water, so that not a whistle full could escape through
them, and the hammocks were slung, and shot placed in them, but all was
apparently at first to little purpose.
"The rogues are laughing at us," said Delisle, as he and I paced the
deck together, "I wish we could get a calm, and have a chance of
boarding them with the boats. They would give us some warm work though,
I suspect."
"I should hope so," said I. "I have always preferred the excitement of
downright fighting to the sort of work we have lately had off
Providence."
"I should think so, indeed!" said he. "I have often thought that if I
were made a prisoner, I should die of ennui. How people can exist shut
up within the walls of a dungeon has always puzzled me."
We afterwards had good reason to remember this conversation, and he,
poor fellow, sadly to his cost. While we had been speaking, dark clouds
had been gathering in the north-west. They now began to form a thick
and heavy bank, which rose gradually higher and higher in the sky.
There was little doubt that they indicated the approach of a strong
wind, but whether or not it would aid us in capturing the chase was a
question.
"We shall have something to try our sticks soon, Mr Willis," said the
captain to the first lieutenant; "but we must carry on as long as they
will stand, rather than let that fellow escape. So fast a craft as he
is will commit no little damage to our trade, if allowed to continue at
large."
"No fear, sir. It is not likely that a rascally rebel will be able
ultimately to escape from three of his Majesty's ships," answered Mr
Willis, who held the Americans in supreme contempt.
"I do not know that," observed the captain, who had a very different
feeling for the foe. "They have shown in many ways that they are not to
be despised, and several of their vessels have contrived to give us the
go-by."
"Ay, yes, to be sure; but then they were probably not worth catching,"
said Mr Willis, not liking to acknowledge that the enemy had anything
to boast of. According to him, every battle they had fought had been
lost by them, and the time of their entire destruction was fast
approaching. The squall which had for some time been brewing in the
westward, now made its advent known by curling up the waves, topping
them with foam and swelling out our sails to the utmost from the
bolt-ropes. The chase kicked up her heels a little as it caught her up,
and then went staggering away before it faster than ever. After her,
however, flew our two consorts and, ourselves, and still we felt sure
that we should capture her. The sea rose higher and the wind increased,
which was all in our favour, and after some time, there could be no
doubt that we were gaining on her, but night was now approaching, and
the darkness would give her a far better chance than before of escaping.
"Do you think, Mr Willis, we should have a chance of winging her, if we
were to send a shot after her?" said the captain to the first
lieutenant, as they stood together, watching the chase attentively.
"Certainly I think so!" replied Mr Willis; "at all events, I'll try,
and I won't fail to do my best."
One of the bow-chasers was forthwith run out and pointed by Mr Willis
himself. For a minute or more he looked along the gun at the chase. At
last he fired. The white splinters were seen to fly from her quarter.
The result of his first attempt encouraged him to make a second. The
gun was again loaded, but when he fired no apparent effect followed. A
third time he fired, but if the shot struck, no damage was to be
perceived. It was now rapidly growing dark, and Mr Willis was becoming
impatient, for uncomfortable doubts began to rise in his mind as to the
possibility of the cruiser of the much-despised enemy escaping after all
from us. Grampus was standing near him. "Here, my man," said he, "you
have the credit of being one of best shots in the ship--try what you can
do in clipping one of that fellow's wings."
The old seaman looked gratified at the compliment, and prepared himself
to obey. First, however, he cast a hurried glance to windward not
altogether devoid of anxiety. I looked in the same direction. There,
gathering thickly and close overhead, was the black mass of clouds which
had long been driving towards us, the seas looking white and more broken
in the increasing gloom. I thought he was about to speak, but turning
to the gun he stooped down, before it and applied the match. Scarcely
had he fired when its report was echoed by a discharge from the
artillery of the clouds, the wind roared in the rigging, the studding
sails, which had not been taken in, were blown away like light fleeces
from a sheep's back and carried far-off before the gale. The
fore-topgallant sail and fore-topsail sheets were carried away; the ship
flew up into the wind, taking the wheel out of the hands of the men,
while she almost broached to, creating a scene of confusion which did
not often occur on board; over she heeled to the blast; sheets were let
fly; the spray in showers broke over her; the voices of Captain Hudson
and Mr Willis were heard above the uproar caused by the dashing of the
sea, the rattling of blocks, and the howling and whistling of the wind,
with the other accompaniments of a sudden squall. When order was
somewhat restored, sail decreased, and the ship put on her former
course, we once more looked out for the chase. Not a trace of her was
to be seen. The dim outline of our two consorts could be perceived on
either quarter. They apparently had been thrown into as much confusion
as we had from the squall, but were once more with diminished canvas
standing in the same direction as before.
"Oh, we shall soon be up with her again," said Mr Willis, who had gone
forward to look-out himself for the chase. "She doubtless lost some of
her spars, if not her masts altogether, in the squall."
"Not so sure of that," I heard old Grampus mutter as he passed me. "I
saw her all a-taunto, running away from us in fine style when we were
first caught. She's given us the go-by, or I'm no seaman."
All night we ran on, looking out for the chase, and when daylight broke
and a hundred eager eyes were glancing round the horizon she was nowhere
to be seen. To pursue her farther would have been vain, besides leading
us too far from our cruising-ground and risking the main object we had
in view.
Returning to our station on the 28th we took two vessels laden with
wood, which we gave up as before. On the 4th of July we saw a brig in a
calm, about four miles from us. The signal was made for all the boats
of the squadron, manned and armed, to be ready to attack her.
Lieutenant Moss, of the Juno, had the command of the expedition. Making
sure of an easy victory, away we pulled towards the stranger over the
smooth shining ocean.
The brig we saw, as we drew near, was heavily armed; her colours were
flying, and she seemed prepared not to strike without a blow. As soon
as we drew within range of her guns she opened her fire on us. This, of
course, only expedited our movements, and we dashed on towards her as
fast as the oars could send the boats through the water. The brig's
crew founded their hopes of escape probably on the chance of a breeze
springing up, of which there were already some signs, while our aim was
to get on board before the wind filled her sails. The rebels fought
with desperation, and never relaxed their fire till we were alongside.
Two or three of our men had been struck. One lost the side of his face
by a round-shot which shaved him more cleanly than he would have wished,
and spoilt his beauty for life. With loud shouts and cries our men
leaped on board, and in two minutes the brig was ours. She mounted ten
carriage guns and twelve swivels, was laden with rum and sugar, and was
bound for Boston.
On the 5th we ran a brig on shore after a chase of some hours. From her
size and pertinacity in endeavouring to escape, we from the first
suspected that her cargo was of value. No sooner had she struck than
the squadron hove-to and the boats were ordered to pull in to re-take
her. I on this occasion remained on board. We were expecting to see
the boats haul off the vessel, when, just as they drew near, a large
body of troops were perceived hurrying down to the shore. The soldiers
at once began firing away at the advancing boats, but notwithstanding
they pulled alongside, drove the crew below, and took possession. We
saw them make a gallant effort to tow off the vessel, but in three or
four minutes, so heavy became the fire, they were compelled to
relinquish the attempt. When they reached the ship we found that three
men had been wounded, but happily none were killed.
"A tremendous loss we have had!" exclaimed Mr Heron, who commanded the
expedition, with a look of disgust. "She is worth twenty thousand
pounds at least, if not much more. It is not every day the rebels have
a vessel like her to give us."
"We must keep a sharp look-out after her, and if she gets off, try to
get hold of her another day," said Mr Willis.
In the evening we were directed to stand close in shore to cannonade and
endeavour to destroy her, but scarcely had we opened our fire when a
gale of wind sprung up, and we were compelled for our own safety to run
to sea. We, however, did not yet give up all hopes of capturing her. A
few days afterwards, indeed, she fell into our hands, but we were not a
little disappointed to find that the rebels had in the meantime removed
the greater portion of her cargo.
Nothing for some days occurred to break the monotony of our existence
except innumerable unsuccessful chases which sorely tried our first
lieutenant's temper, and the capture of a prodigious quantity of fish.
So abundant was the supply that it was the business of the mate of the
dog-watch to see that what were not eaten were thrown overboard every
night, to prevent the people from keeping them too long. At length I
was engaged in an expedition with more serious results than had for some
time occurred.
On the 14th we rounded the end of that narrow neck of land known by the
name of Cape Cod, and which, circling round like an arm with its elbow
bent, forms a wide and extensive bay. We stood along the eastern shore,
eagerly looking into every nook and inlet in which a craft could take
shelter. As we got abreast of Cape Cod Harbour we saw three vessels at
anchor there--a brig, a schooner, and a sloop. Mr Willis reported them
to the captain.
"We'll stand in and overhaul them, then," was the reply, and the ship's
course was altered accordingly.
No sooner were we perceived by the three vessels than they slipped their
cables and made sail in the hopes of escaping. They steered across to
the western shore, either on the chance of finding shelter in some
creek, or being able to beat out of the bay, and thus get to windward of
us.
"We shall bag the fellows this time at all events," said Mr Heron,
rubbing his hands as we were fast over-hauling the chases.
They did not, however, give in, trusting to a flaw of wind or something
else turning up in their favour. The Amazon and Juno, however, by
standing more to the northward soon cut off all chance of escape. They
were running for the harbour of Truro, but before they could get there
we drove them all three on shore at some distance from each other. A
loud shout from our crews proclaimed the result of the chase. The
boatswain's shrill whistle sounding along the decks was followed by the
order for all the boats to be manned and armed and sent in to get off
the vessels. I had charge of a cutter with Grampus and Tom, and little
Harry Sumner accompanied me. Our first aim was the brig. We pulled
towards her in good order as fast as we well could. It was not till we
were close alongside that the enemy showed themselves to defend her. We
took no notice of them, though they opened a warmish fire of musketry on
us, but, boarding together, got out hawsers, and while some of the boats
went ahead to tow her out the crews of the others remained on the deck
and kept the enemy at bay. Thus in a few minutes we got her
triumphantly afloat, and while she was being towed out from the shore I
was sent in my boat to set fire to the sloop which lay nearly a mile
from the other vessels. I thought that as the attention of the enemy
was engaged with the brig the work would be easy, and pulled boldly
towards her. We had got within musket range when up started three
fellows from behind the bulwarks and let fly at us. Their aim was good,
for each of their shots struck the boat, though happily no one was hit.
This salute, however, did not stop our progress.
"Give way, my lads, give way!" I shouted. "We will soon punish them
for their audacity."
They fired several times after this, but without doing us any damage. I
was surprised at their boldness in still remaining on board, but on our
firing the swivel we had in our bows, accompanied by a round of
musketry, they quickly jumped out of sight. As, however, we were close
alongside, and just about to hook on to her chains, the mystery was
solved by the unwelcome apparition of two or three hundred men, with
levelled fire-arms, who appeared mounting a line of sand-banks close to
the water, and behind which they had till now remained concealed. The
first discharge with which they saluted us knocked over two of my men,
and the next wounded two more. In addition to the musketry two pieces
of cannon were brought to bear on us, which, unfortunately for us, were
very well served. Seeing this, and believing that I and all my people
must be killed if we attempted to escape, I turned the boat's head round
and sang out for quarter, and all the disagreeables of a long
imprisonment rose up before me. So exasperated, however, were the
people on shore that they paid no attention to my request. Sumner had a
white handkerchief, and, tying it to a stretcher, waved it above our
heads. It was, however, all in vain. The enemy seemed resolved on our
destruction.
"Harry, my boy," said I, "there is no help for it. If I am hit, do your
best to carry the boat out. Now give way, my lads! If we can but hold
on a little we shall soon be clear."
Even the wounded men pulled away with all their might except one who was
too much hurt to handle an oar. I took his place and put Harry at the
helm. The shot fell thick as hail around us, the enemy shouting and
shrieking at us like demons. Still we held on. Now another of my men
was hit. Suddenly I saw little Harry turn pale. He sat upright as
before, but his compressed lips and an uneasy look about the eyes made
me fear he was hit.
"Are you hurt, Sumner?" I asked.
"I think so," he answered; "but never mind, it is nothing, I am sure."
I was sure that he was hurt, however, very much, and this made me feel
more savage against our enemies than anything that had occurred for a
long time, but there was no time to stop and examine his wound. I had
scarcely a man now left unhurt--most of them seriously so. Two poor
fellows let the oars drop from their hands, and sank down in the bottom
of the boat. Tom was one of them. Grampus, indeed, was the only man
unhurt. He seemed to bear a charmed life, for he had run in his time
more risks than any of us without receiving a wound. I was in despair,
for I every instant expected to feel a bullet enter my body, and that
after all we should fall into the hands of the enemy. The boat, too,
was almost knocked to pieces, and it seemed a wonder that she could
still swim. The wind, fortunately, was blowing strong off the land.
"We must try and get the foresail hoisted, Grampus," said I. "If we
can, we may do yet."
"Ay, ay, sir," he answered, stepping forward over the prostrate bodies
of our shipmates to execute the order.
Assisted by two of the men the least hurt, we got the mast stepped.
"Now up with the sail, my men!" I sang out.
At length it was hoisted, though the moment the enemy saw what we were
about they seemed to redouble their efforts to destroy us. I breathed
more freely as I got the sheet aft, and saw the canvas swelling with the
breeze; but even then I knew that a shot might carry away our mast or
halliards, or, indeed, send us all to the bottom. Just as I had got all
to rights, and was ready to take the helm, poor little Harry, overcome
with pain and the loss of blood, sank down by my side. I placed him
carefully in the stern-sheets, and Tom Rockets, though badly wounded
himself, crawled aft and endeavoured to examine his wound and to staunch
the blood which flowed copiously from his side. The bullets began now
to fall less thickly about us than before--a sign that we were
increasing our distance from the shore. Had the enemy possessed a boat
they might have taken us without difficulty, but, fortunately, they had
none. Indeed, I have no doubt that their aim was to destroy us
completely, as a punishment on us for our attempt to burn their vessel.
In spite of the shots which still fell around us, we kept steadily on
our course, while occasionally I turned an uneasy glance over my
shoulder to see how far we had got from the enemy. At length scarcely a
shot reached us; a gentle thud every now and then showing us that those
which did so had almost lost their power. I was able now to pay more
attention to my young companion. I asked him how he did.
"I am afraid that I am more hurt than I at first fancied," he replied.
"If I die, you will write to my mother, and tell her all about me, will
you, Hurry?"
"Oh, don't talk of dying, my good boy," I answered, though I felt a
choking sensation in my throat as I spoke. "We shall soon be on board,
and then you will be properly cared for, and will feel more easy."
"Oh, I do not complain," said he, "still, I have an idea that I am
mortally wounded. Perhaps it is only fancy, you know, and I am not
afraid."
"That's right, be a brave boy, and keep up your spirits. You've many
more years to live, and will be an admiral one of these days, I hope,"
said I, though my hopes were far less sanguine than my words. "See,
scarcely any of the shots reach us; we shall soon be out of the enemy's
fire."
He looked up in my face and smiled. One of the wounded men groaned.
Harry heard the poor fellow. A look of intense pain passed over his
countenance.
"Oh, I wish that we could get to the doctor! Let him look to that poor
man before me; I am sure he wants him most. Who is it?"