"Farewell, sir!" I said. "I have duties to which I must attend at
present, but I will endeavour, if possible, to see you again before I
return to my ship."
"Stay one moment," said he; "I would ask you to ascertain from our
friends at Hampton if they have received positive information as to the
safety of my daughter and her relatives. When you gain it send me word,
and you will add to the weight of the debt of gratitude I already owe
you."
He said this in a stiff way, as if unwilling to give me the task. This
I thought but natural. Though I was conferring obligations on him, my
position as a poor lieutenant was unaltered, and I knew that he could
not desire to entrust his daughter's happiness to my charge, even should
peace be established. It was almost the hour appointed for the
embarkation of the troops when I got down to the river. So well had our
arrangements been made, that I doubt whether the enemy knew what we were
about. There is something particularly exciting and wild in the
movement of a large body of armed men at night. I could not help
remarking the scene in which I was taking so active a part. Rapidly
flowed by the dark river; boats crowded with men and horses were
continually passing, while others were returning empty for a further
supply; people with torches were stationed on both banks of the river,
to enable the soldiers, as they came down, to take their proper places
in the boats, the lights from the flaming brands throwing a ruddy glare
over the stream, and making the tall buildings of the mills stand out
prominently from the dark forest in the background. All night long the
work was going on, for it was a slow process to get across horses,
artillery and ammunition, provisions and baggage. The first thing in
the morning, after his men had rested but a couple of hours, the
indefatigable Colonel Simcoe set off towards Portsmouth to summon the
town to surrender. At 2 p.m. the army began their march, and arrived
before the place the following day, when the inhabitants, finding that
resistance was useless, surrendered at discretion. I endeavoured to
ascertain where Colonel Carlyon and the other prisoners had been placed,
but was unable to discover any clue to their place of imprisonment. As
soon as the rear of the army was out of sight, all the officers
commanding boats assembled on board a brig, which had been captured in
the Nansimond river, previous to returning to our ships. It was with
much regret that I heard it proposed to burn Mackey's Mills, and to
ravage the country round, in consequence of the attack which had been
made on our boats. I opposed the suggestion with all my might. I said
that I thought it a wanton destruction of property, that would in no way
advance our cause, and would certainly exasperate the sufferers against
us. Not only were my counsels disregarded, but several remarks were
made hinting pretty broadly that I was too friendly disposed towards the
enemy. I had to stand a severe fire from several of my
brother-officers. Some, among whom was O'Driscoll, began to joke, and I
took it very ill from him, as he knew the depth of my sentiments, and I
considered his conduct a breach of confidence. Others went on from
joking to make more serious remarks, which I felt reflected on my
honour, so much so that I rose up and declared that if another
observation of the sort was ventured on by any present, I must insist on
settling the matter at another time and place. Some held their peace
after this, but some continued to talk of officers showing lukewarmness
and want of loyalty to the king's cause, and to declare that such had
better declare themselves to be the rebels they were at heart.
The last man who spoke was a Lieutenant Dawson. I was surprised that he
should venture to speak thus, for he was a man of whose spirit or
courage I had but a mean opinion. My impulse was to throw a
pocket-pistol I seized hold of across the table at his head, but I
restrained my anger. Though he was my junior in the service, we were
engaged on public duty together, and, under these circumstances, it was
a serious matter for one officer to strike another, even in those days.
"Mr Dawson, you must know what you say is false, sir," I exclaimed.
"Can any one here say that I have been slack in my duty--that I have
ever shown the white feather--that I have ever done anything derogatory
to the character of an officer and a gentleman? If no one here condemns
me--then, sir, I shall make you eat your words, and acknowledge that the
insinuations on which you have ventured were most foul and unjust."
No one spoke. Dawson looked confounded.
"No one condemns me," I added. "That is well; but will no one speak in
my favour--will no one say that, to the best of his knowledge, I have
never failed in my duty, or acted otherwise than as a British officer
ought to act?"
"In faith, Hurry, I'll speak in your favour, my boy, and gladly too,"
cried O'Driscoll, with all the enthusiasm of which his warm heart was
capable. "If every one fought as well, and did their duty as completely
as you do, we should have had this war over long ago--that's my belief;
and small blame to you if you think a pair of bright eyes in this
western hemisphere brighter than any to be found in the old country;
besides, you've never been in my part of Ireland, or you might be of a
different opinion. Now, gentlemen, if any one has anything to say
against Mr Hurry, then let him say it to me. I'll settle the matter
for him."
This diversion of O'Driscoll's completely silenced all opposition to me,
and Dawson, not wishing to come into a personal conflict with my
hot-headed though warm-hearted Irish friend, slunk out of the cabin.
I was, however, left in a decided minority with respect to an attack on
the mills, which it was determined forthwith to destroy. I was of
course under the orders of the commanding officer of the brigade of
boats, who happened to be Lieutenant Edwards, first of the Charon, so
that I had no choice but to obey. As soon as our crews had taken some
refreshment we pulled away in battle array for the mills. A few
irregulars and armed peasantry, who had entered the place when the army
had quitted it, were speedily put to flight when we landed. Piles of
brushwood were collected and heaped up inside the building in different
parts of it. Fire was set to them, and rapidly the flames burst forth,
and, catching the dry wood-work of the mills, were soon seen climbing up
from storey to storey, twisting themselves in and out of the windows,
and encircling the beams and rafters in their deadly embrace. I never
saw any building so rapidly consumed. Higher and higher rose the
devouring flames; down came tumbling the roof and lofty walls; with loud
crashes the floors fell in; showers of bright sparks flew on every side,
and nothing but a mass of burning ruins--a huge bonfire--remained before
us. The men shouted when they saw the destruction they had caused, like
mischievous schoolboys. They little thought or cared to whom the
property belonged, or who were the sufferers. They would just as
readily have burnt it had it belonged to royalists. They enjoyed the
sight of the conflagration--the effects of their own handiwork. Many of
the officers, too, shouted and clapped their hands, and seemed to take
as much pleasure in the mischief they were producing as the men; but
this might have been a mere exhibition of their loyalty and patriotism.
Having thus effectually destroyed the mills, our commanding officer
ordered us to march into the interior to forage, or, in other words, to
plunder any farms the army had spared, and to commit any other acts of
mischief the time would allow. I need not enter into particulars.
Cattle we spared, as we could not carry them off, but we collected sheep
and pigs and fowls wherever we could find them. To this, of course, I
could not object, as provisions were necessary; but at length we came to
the house of a gentleman--a colonel of militia we were told--and, though
no defence of it was attempted, it was proposed to burn it to the
ground. Against this further wanton destruction of property I loudly
protested--
"It has lately been said that I am a friend of the rebels," I exclaimed.
"That I deny; but I do not deny that I am ashamed to see my countrymen
destroy the property of people who make no resistance, and who are
Englishmen as much as we are. Such conduct can only cause a bitter
hatred to spring up in the breasts of the sufferers, which will make
them refuse ever again to become our fellow-subjects and friends."
Mr Edwards did not at all like my interference; but my remonstrance had
an effect, and though he allowed the house to be plundered, and the
furniture to be destroyed, he soon after ordered a retreat, observing
that he could not depend on my co-operation or assistance. The owner of
the house, as it turned out, was in the neighbourhood, with a
considerable body of men, and he very nearly succeeded in inflicting a
severe retaliation on us by surprising and cutting off our party.
However, we discovered his approach in time to get into order, and,
though he and his men followed us for some way, we kept him at bay, and
reached the river without loss. Lieutenant Edwards at once returned on
board our ship in the Charon's barge, leaving me in command of the
boats--directing me to land and forage at any convenient spot towards
the mouth of the river. Here again, however much against my
inclination, I must obey orders. We had observed a large farm a little
above the town of Nansimond. As we proceeded down the river we suddenly
pulled in towards the shore. Sixty men, without a moment's delay, ran
on and surrounded the farm before the inmates had time to drive away any
of the stock, or, indeed, had perceived our approach. We soon collected
everything eatable on which we could lay hands, and were in our boats
and away again before any force had time to assemble from the
neighbourhood to attack us. Such was the system of warfare which I
believe General Arnold recommended and encouraged--the most galling and
injurious to the unhappy colonists. We got on board our ships by
midnight, with provisions sufficient to supply all the ships' companies
for a couple of days.
The Rattlesnake, a ship pierced for fourteen guns, but mounting ten
three-pounders and six swivels, had been captured at Portsmouth, and the
next morning I received orders to take command of her, to fit her for
sea, and to hold myself in readiness to proceed with charge of all the
rest of the prizes to New York.
The army was at this period employed in throwing up works for the
defence of Portsmouth, and in making excursions into the surrounding
country to crush, it was said in the despatches, any embers of rebellion
which might yet be smouldering there. As I have before remarked, the
way taken to produce the desired result was anything but effectual. I
was very nearly being deprived of my new command in a somewhat summary
way by the sinking of my vessel. A terrifically heavy gale of wind
sprang up on the night of the 21st, and first driving one of the larger
prizes foul of her, which carried away my fore and cross-jack yards,
fore channels, both quarters and best bower-anchor, (such a grinding and
crushing and crashing I never before got on board any craft); scarcely
was she clear when another craft came thundering down aboard of me, and
very nearly completed the work which the other had commenced. However,
I did manage to swim while several other vessels drove on shore and
were, with all their crews, lost. For several days after that I was
employed in refitting my ship for sea.
On the 25th I proceeded with my convoy of prizes to Portsmouth, and when
there, General Arnold sent for me and informed me that the commodore had
assured him I should immediately sail in the Rattlesnake for New York
with despatches for Sir Henry Clinton. After he had handed me his
despatches I took my departure. He informed me of their contents that,
should I be compelled to throw them overboard, I might be able to give a
verbal report to Sir Henry of the wants of the army. Those wants were
not a few. More guns, ammunition, food and clothing,--all were
required.
On reaching Sewel's Point, where I brought up to receive the commodore's
despatches, I was surprised to receive an order to return immediately
and to give back those entrusted to me by General Arnold. This order
originated, I afterwards discovered, in consequence of some
unaccountable disagreement which had arisen between the general and the
admiral. General Arnold said nothing when I gave him back his
despatches, but he looked not a little angry and astonished. When the
heads fell out it is not surprising that want of success was the result
of their undertakings. My journal is full of various little incidents
which happened at this time. The Charlestown and Hope captured in the
Chesapeake a rich fleet of eight rebel merchantmen bound for the
Havannah. The lieutenant of the Swift was made prisoner in consequence
of an illegal use of a flag of truce. Several officers and men were
blown up when chasing a rebel brig, and an artillery officer, heading a
foraging party, was killed. The squadron was kept on the alert by an
account brought by the General Monk sloop-of-war of a French ship of the
line and two frigates having sailed from Rhode Island, it was supposed,
for the Chesapeake.
Once more, on the 31st, the old Charon, during a heavy gale of wind,
drove on shore, but by great and prompt exertion was got off. To keep
her in countenance, when on the 5th of February I sailed with my prizes
under convoy of the Charlestown for New York, on going down the West
Branch I also got on shore, but succeeded in quickly getting off again.
I had no little trouble in keeping the prizes in order. The Americans
left on board one of them persuaded the people to side with them, and
they ran her on shore, purposing to give her up to the rebels. I went
in chase of her, fired several shots into her, and then, manning one of
my boats, boarded her, captured her crew, who had been unable to escape,
and got her off, made sail with my recaptured prize, and rejoined the
fleet at midnight, when I put the mutineers on board the Charlestown, to
be dealt with according to martial law.
On the 11th, at night, finding the "Langolee," one of my prizes, some
distance astern, and suspecting that she was about to give us the slip,
I dropped astern, and, taking her in tow, brought her into the middle of
the fleet. At midnight, however, a heavy gust of wind compelled me to
cut the hawser and clap before it. With the small crew I had I found no
little difficulty in handing my sails, which, after some time having
done, I struck topgallant yards and masts and lay-to under a
close-reefed mainsail. Once having made the ship snug I endeavoured to
discover the whereabouts of the rest of the convoy, but not a trace of
them could I discover. I hoped, however, with the morning light to make
them out. When the cold-grey dawn spread over the ocean and I went
aloft not a sail was in sight.
"This is no great misfortune," said I to Grampus when I came on deck.
"The Rattlesnake is a prime sailer, and by taking advantage of the winds
we shall reach New York much sooner than if we had been obliged to whip
up the convoy. We are a match, too, for any of the smaller rebel
vessels we are likely to fall in with, and we must run away from the
bigger ones."
"That may be, sir," answered the old man, "but d'ye see, sir, I've no
great opinion of this here craft if it was to come on any long course of
bad weather. I've a notion she's an old craft, and I doubt much the
soundness of her timbers and planks."
I was rather inclined to laugh at Nol's prognostication, and thought no
more about his remarks. Before, however, many hours had passed, the
gale, which had hitherto been blowing pretty steadily, increased in
fury; the sea ran very high, and the spray, as it broke on board, froze
hard on deck and sheathed the rigging in ice. When short-handed this is
very trying, as double the strength is required to make the running
rigging work. Happily we were under snug canvas, for I do not think we
could have made or shortened sail. Towards evening Grampus came up to
me with a look of concern in his countenance.
"I told you so, sir," he said, touching his hat. "The old ship has
sprung a leak. She has not lost time in letting in the water, for there
are four feet already in the hold."
Immediately on hearing this appalling news I gave orders to man the
pumps, but it was at once found, to our further dismay, that they were
useless, for they were choked with ice. Since the gale sprang up we had
been unable to light a fire. In vain for a long time we tried. Without
boiling water or a hot iron it was impossible to clear the pumps. The
water was rapidly gaining on us. There seemed every probability of the
ship sinking under our feet. Such has been the fate of many poor
fellows--to have gone down in a cold, icy sea, hope and help far away.
Such was the risk I had often before run, but never before had the
expectation of it been brought so prominently before me. Never before
had I, it seemed, so much to lose. Never so much to which to look
forward with hope. Our efforts to light the fire became more and more
frantic. At last I bethought me of applying salt to the ice in the
pumps. We fortunately had a good supply of it on board. By forcing the
salt down with a long iron the ice was melted, and the pumps at length
got to act. Frantically we pumped away with our two pumps. We sounded
the well; the water had decreased. This gave us courage to continue our
exertions. At length we were able to keep the ship free. Still the
gale continued, and I had my apprehensions, from the condition of the
ship, that another leak might yet be sprung and all our efforts prove
vain. Even a winter gale of wind in those latitudes off the American
coast must come to an end, and this, by the morning of the 5th,
sufficiently abated to allow me to set the fore and main stay-sails. I
then stood towards the land. At noon Rockets came into my cabin, where
I had gone to snatch a few minutes' sleep, and reported a ship and two
schooners in sight.
"An enemy, I'll warrant," I said to myself testily. "I shall be driven
out to sea again, or perhaps, after all, fall into their hands."
Still I stood towards them, ready to make all sail to escape should my
suspicions be realised. I could not make them out. When I got within
signalising distance I made the private signal, and great was my
satisfaction to find in answer that the ship was the Charlestown, and
the schooners two of the convoy.
The next day we made the high land of Neversink, and that evening
reached the entrance of New York harbour. It was with the greatest
difficulty, however, that we could work our way into it, so full was it
of floating ice, through which it was often scarcely possible to steer.
The other prizes which had parted company with me in the gale arrived
all safe three days afterwards. The accommodations of one of the
prizes, the Charity Brig, being much superior to those of the
Rattlesnake, I took up my quarters on board her. I invited also some of
the more gentlemanly and pleasant of the midshipmen to live on board her
also, so that we were able to form an agreeable society among ourselves.
At New York there was none in which we could mix with any satisfaction.
Whenever I went on shore I did not fail to visit the house of my old
Dutch friend, the widow Von Tromp. It was already so crowded with
soldier officers that I could not live there altogether, had I been so
disposed, but in truth I preferred remaining on board ship with my
brother-officers. As I was allowed a guinea a day for my table I was
able to live in comparative luxury and comfort.
On the 10th we began to discharge our prizes, which were loaded with
tobacco. On clearing the Rattlesnake I had indeed reason to be thankful
that I and those who had been with me on board were still in the land of
the living. Her entire bottom was completely rotten, and all who saw
her were astonished that she had made the passage from Portsmouth to New
York. It seemed a miracle that the water had been kept out of her. Her
whole bottom had to be replanked before she was again fit to put to sea.
This is only one of the numberless escapes from destruction which I
have had during my life.
The widow Von Tromp was delighted to see me, and especially interested
in all I had to tell her. I was amused with her notions about the war.
Her sympathies were evidently with the American party, but at present
she assuredly reaped no small profit from the custom which the military
brought to her house. She tried sore to reconcile the two opinions--she
wished well to the patriots, and yet she was in no hurry to see the war
brought to an end. Often since have I seen people on more serious
matters halting between two opinions.
"Ah me, Mr Hurry, I wish the war were ended and my dear friends from
the south would come back, but den dees nice young officers all go away
and I see dem no more! Oh, it is vary sad, vary sad!" she used to
exclaim, after descanting on the liberality of her guests. "But den you
come back, Mr Hurry; member dat. You always come and see de widow Von
Tromp."
Of course I promised, and intended faithfully to fulfil my promise,
little dreaming at that time the course which events would take.
Having discharged faithfully and, as I hoped, to the satisfaction of all
concerned, the duty on which I had been sent, I requested the commanding
officer of the port that he would enable me and my people to return to
the Charon by the first opportunity. Just as I had done so I called on
board the Chatham, now commanded by my old friend Captain Hudson, with
whom I sailed in the Orpheus. He received me most kindly, and informing
me that two of his lieutenants were sick in the hospital, requested that
I would perform the duty of first lieutenant on board till I could
rejoin my own ship. Anxious as I was, for private reasons, to get to
the south, I could not refuse his request. I accordingly at once went
on board with my people and commenced the duty of first lieutenant, and
pretty hard duty it was; but it is a satisfaction to me to feel that I
never refused, during the whole course of my naval career, any duty
offered me, however hard or irksome it might have promised to be.
On the 18th of March we sailed from Sandy Hook for the southward, having
under our orders the following fleet, viz. Chatham, Roebuck, Raleigh,
Bonetta, Savage, Halifax, Vulcan, fire-ship, with a number of
transports, which had on board two thousand troops under the command of
General Phillips, who had not long before been released by a cartel
concluded a few months previously with the enemy. We were going, I
found, to the assistance of General Arnold, who was under very serious
apprehensions of being overwhelmed by a French fleet with an expedition
on board, which it was supposed had sailed from Rhode Island to attack
him.
On the 18th we spoke the Pearl and Iris, from which ships we learned
that an action had been fought a few days before between the British
fleet, under Admiral Arbuthnot, and the French fleet from Rhode Island.
Although pretty fairly matched as to numbers the general opinion was
that the English ships should have done much more than they did. They
drove back the French and prevented them from reaching the Chesapeake
before our arrival, but not a Frenchman was sunk or taken, whereas I
believe that Admiral Arbuthnot might have followed, cut up, and
dispersed the whole French squadron had he possessed the spirit which
should animate the bosom of every officer in the service. His only
excuse was that some of the ships under his command had suffered in the
late hurricane, and that the crews were worn out in their exertions to
repair damages and put again to sea. I would gladly see the accounts of
such engagements expunged from the annals of English history.
We arrived at Lynhaven Bay in the Chesapeake on the 28th, and found
Admiral Arbuthnot's squadron lying there repairing the damages of the
late action. On the next day I rejoined the Charon, having been absent
from her nine weeks. I was now in hopes of being able to get on shore
to make inquiries for Colonel Carlyon and his daughter, but as I found
that we were every moment expecting to sail in search of the French
fleet I was compelled to restrain my impatience and to endure as I best
could all the anxiety I felt about them.