JACK'S REQUEST.
"And, oh; it was glorious and strange to behold,
What torrents of fire from her red mouth she threw;
And how from her broad wings and sulphurous sides,
Hot showers of grapeshot and rifle balls flew."
"In God we'll trust!" said Tempest, and Bertha Decatur drew nearer to
him, as she whispered lovingly:
"He will protect us!"
Then, with a feminine fear, she asked:
"Do you think we shall have to fight?"
"I am afraid so; but if we do--can you be brave, my darling--can you
bear to hear the truth?"
"Tell me what it is you fear."
"If we fight we shall be beaten. Against such as yon ship we have no
chance. And if the other is a Britisher, we are doomed."
"Let me die with you."
"We may not be killed."
Bertha looked at her betrothed, her lips quivering and her body
trembling, not with fear, but rather with the thought that her life
might be so short, now that she had begun to realize how well it was
worth living.
"But--you will never surrender?" she asked proudly.
"What would you wish, Bertha?"
"Wish? Why, better die than be a prisoner; better give your life for
your flag, than live dishonored. We can die together--it would be
better."
The man at the masthead shouted:
"Sail, ho!"
Tempest left Bertha, and exclaimed:
"Masthead, there!"
"Ay, ay, sir!"
"Where away is the sail?"
The direction was given. It was the sail seen between the _Caroline_
and the shore.
"What does she look like?"
"A square-rigged vessel, sir."
After a few minutes Tempest again shouted:
"Masthead, there!"
"Sir?"
"What flag does she fly?"
There was a silence deep and profound as the answer was awaited.
"She shows no colors, sir! She is a large ship and bearing down upon
us. The Britisher is gaining on us as well."
For a moment only did the brave young officer hesitate.
It was a bright, sunshiny morning and the air was clear.
"Run up the starry banner!" he shouted.
It was a defiance, and the crew cheered heartily as the flag ran up the
halliards.
But the cheering suddenly ceased at a word from the commander.
"Masthead, what do you see?"
Scarcely a minute elapsed before the answer came.
"She has run up the American flag, sir!"
What cheering!
What joy filled the breasts of the crew!
Orders were given to stand toward the American.
"What name does she bear?" asked Tempest.
"The _United States_," came the answer after a few minutes.
"How strange! What will Bertha say?" thought Tempest, for the _United
States_ frigate was commanded by her uncle, Captain Decatur.
On board the _United States_ everything was being put in order for a
naval battle.
Decatur called his officers together.
"Gentlemen, we have to fight this Sabbath morning instead of
worshiping. I want you to tell all your men that the conflict will be
severe; but that the flag of my country on the ship I command shall
never leave the staff on which it waves as long as there is a hull to
support it."
The officers saluted as became men of their rank, but one middy was far
too excited to merely salute.
He threw up his cap and shouted:
"Hurrah for Captain Decatur!"
Thus challenged, the officers responded, and never did men give more
hearty cheers than those officers of the U. S. frigate _United States_.
There were a number of youths on board the American ship whose ages
were from twelve to fourteen.
Many a lad, at that time, received his warrant as a midshipman while
still in his tenth year.
If he was tall and well formed no questions were asked, but if below
the ordinary stature he was interrogated closely.
It was illegal to enroll any boy's name on the roster, unless he had
passed his twelfth birthday.
Jack Creamer wanted two weeks to be ten years old, but he was allowed
to stay on board.
When Jack saw the English frigate approaching he looked troubled.
No one would have thought he was so young, for his face looked pinched
and wan.
"Cowardly, cowardly, custard!" sneered one of the middies who had
managed to get enrolled, though only eleven years old.
"I am no coward," said Jack.
"Of course not," responded another middy; "not a coward, only a little
bit scared like. No wonder, you are only a child."
"I'm nearly as old as you," retorted Jack.
"Are you? I'm an officer in the United States navy, while you are too
young to be enrolled."
So they rallied Jack, and he became indignant.
Something worried him.
No one imagined in his heart that Jack was afraid, but boys like to
tease each other, and even middies are no exception to the rule.
An old quartermaster watched Jack closely.
"What is the matter, Jack?" he asked kindly.
"I would like to see the captain before going into action."
"You shall, my boy. Come now."
He took Jack Creamer up to the quarterdeck, and there waited for
Captain Decatur's attention.
The captain turned and saw the two, and in his cheery voice asked:
"What is wanting now, Jack?"
The boy saluted, and in a quivering voice replied:
"Commodore, will you please to have my name put down on the muster
roll?"
"Why, what for, my lad? You are far better as you are."
Jack had grown bold.
He pointed to the British ship, which was almost within gunshot range,
and replied:
"So that I can draw my share of the prize money, commodore, when we
take that Britisher."
"Your name shall be entered, Jack."
The lines left the boy's face, a brightness came to his eyes, and he
left the captain's presence far from decorously, for it was with a hop,
skip and a jump.
Decatur directed the attention of the masthead man to the strange sails
to the leeward.
"She flies the American flag," was the answer.
"And the other to the north of her?"
"I'd know her anywhere."
"Well?"
"She's all right. As tight a little boat as ever sailed. The _Lively
Bee_, privateer."
"We shall have friends, then."
"Ay, ay, sir. Cap'n Vernon is as stanch as his boat, an' that's sayin'
a lot."
"Beat to quarters."
How willingly the men obeyed! How quickly each man was at his post!
The surgeon in the cockpit got his instruments and bandages ready,
the powder-monkeys were in line, the middies strutted about every bit
as proud as peacocks, and all the officers waited for the action to
commence.
The first gun fired was from the American ship.
The ships were rolling in a manner fatal to good aim.
Half an hour was devoted to throwing away good ammunition, for no other
object was gained.
A terrific shout went up from the Yankees as they saw that the
Englishman's mizzen topmast was shot away.
Captain Carden soon saw that his men could not cope with the Americans
at such long range, so, with that bulldog courage which Britishers
possess, he disdained all maneuvering and bore straight down on the
enemy.
Both began to fire broadsides, and the firing from the American was so
rapid that the _Macedonian's_ crew shouted:
"She's on fire! Hurrah for England and her hearts of oak!"
But they had shouted too soon.
A well-aimed shot cut away the mizzenmast, which fell alongside,
suspended by the cordage.
"Hurrah, Jack Creamer!" shouted a captain of a gun to the lad, whose
face was as black as the ace of spades, from the powder and smoke.
"Huzza, cap'n!" responded Jack. "You've made a brig of her."
Captain Decatur heard the boy's remark and added cheerily:
"Ay, ay, my lad! Now let the next shot make a sloop of her."
Decatur was everywhere.
His activity was almost marvelous.
It seemed almost impossible that one man could accomplish so much and
continue to be so cheerful.
"Ay, I guess it would do her good," he said, as he saw a gunner look
along his gun.
"Did you speak to me, cap'n?"
"If you like; I saw you point your gun at the yellow streak. Aim just
there, let us hull her."
The order was passed along the gun deck, and each gunner strove to see
that his gun did the most damage.
The great missiles tore cruel holes in the _Macedonian's_ wooden walls,
and so rapid was the firing that the Britisher had no chance.
The flag was hauled down, and a ringing cheer from the Americans
crowned the victory of that Sunday.