hid behind the bulwarks, and if the small boat proved unfriendly, she
was to be warned off the side, and if she persisted in trying to board,
then they were to give her a proper reception. The suspense would not
be long. The boat was now so close that the number of men in her could
be counted distinctly. There were eighteen in all, for the stern sheets
were seen to be crowded. The brig at this moment lay in her own little
calm, about two miles directly off the starboard beam. The rest of the
whaling fleet had noticed her, and had sighted the approach of the
armed cutter also. They were edging off to the eastward, evidently
hailing one another and huddling close together. But the _Blazing
Star_, with just enough wind to move her, held her course.
All was suppressed excitement, for the armed small craft was now within
a half a cable's length. "Ship ahoy!" hailed an officer in a short,
round jacket, standing up. "Heave to there; I want to board you!"
"Waal," drawled Captain Ezra, through his nose, "I dunno as I shall.
What d'ye want?"
There was no response to this; the officer merely turned to his crew:
"Give way!" he ordered, and in half a dozen strokes the cutter had slid
under the _Blazing Star's_ quarter. The man in the bow turned and made
fast to the main chains with a boat-hook. Captain Steele was smoking an
old corncob pipe. He looked to be the most peaceful soul in the world
as he stepped to the gangway, but under his long coat-tails his hand
grasped the old horse-pistol. Several heads now showed above the
bulwarks. The strange officer, who had evidently not expected to see so
many, hesitated. Captain Ezra blew a vicious puff of smoke from between
his firm lips.
"Better keep off the side," he said; "we don't want ye on board; who be
ye, anyhow?"
"Damn your insolence, I'll show you!" cursed the stranger. "On board
here, all you men!" He sprang forward. Captain Ezra did not pull his
pistol. He stepped back half a pace and his eye gleamed wickedly. The
unknown had almost come on board when he was met full in the chest by
the heel of Captain Ezra's cowhide boot. Now the Captain's legs were
very long and strong, and aided by the firm grasp he had on both sides
of the gangway, the gentleman in the round, brass-buttoned jacket flew
through the air over the heads of his crew in the boat below and
plumped into the water on the other side. One of the men in the boat
instantly drew a pistol and fired straight at the Captain's head--the
ball whistled through his old straw hat! But that shot decided matters.
It was answered by the four old rusty muskets, the last one hanging
fire so long that there was a perceptible time between the flash in the
pan, and the report. Two men fell over on the thwarts of the small
boat. The man who had fired the pistol sank back, pierced through and
through by the slender shank of a harpoon. But the crowning effect of
this attempt to repel boarders occurred just at this minute. A spare
anchor, that had been on deck close to the bulwarks, caught the eye of
Amos Jordan. "Here, bear a hand!" he cried, and with the help of three
others he hove the heavy iron over the bulwarks. It struck full on the
cutter's bows, and crushed them as a hammer would an eggshell. The
shock threw most of the occupants from off the thwarts; the boat filled
so quickly that in an instant they were struggling in the water--one
man gained the deck, but a blow on the head from the butt of Captain
Dewey's pistol laid him out senseless. One of the _Mason's_ crew hurled
a lance at one of the helpless figures in the water. It missed him by a
hair's-breath.
"Avast that!" roared Captain Ezra. "We don't want to do more murder!"
The officer who had been projected into the deep by the Captain's
well-timed kick had grasped the gunwales of the sunken boat. His face
was deathly white; thirteen of his crew had managed to save themselves
by laying hold with him. One of them was roaring lustily for some one
to heave a rope to him. To save his life, Captain Ezra could not help
grinning.
"Waal," he said, "this is a pretty howdy do. Ye kin come on board naow,
if ye want tew, only leave them arms whar they be." As if in obedience
to this order, a sailor in a blue jacket with a white stripe down each
arm and trimming the collar, unbuckled his heavy belt with his free
hand and cast his cutlass far from him. Two others followed suit.
"Naow," said Captain Ezra, "one at a time come on board, an' we'll find
aout what ye mean by attackin' a peaceable whaler with dangerous
weapons, who's homeward baound an' hain't offended ye."
The first man up the side was a red-cheeked, black-whiskered
individual, who mumbled, as he sheepishly gazed about him: "Douse my
glims but this is a bloody rum go."
"Tie 'im up," ordered Captain Ezra. The man submitted to having his
hands made fast behind his back.
"Now for the next one," said Captain Ezra, blowing a calm puff of smoke
up in the air, and watching it float away into the hollow of the
mainsail. In turn the thirteen discomfited sailors were ranged along
the bulwarks, and no one was left but the white-faced officer, clinging
to the wreckage of the boat that was now towing alongside, for one of
the crew had heaved a blubber-hook into her, at the end of a bit of
ratline.
"Spunky feller, ain't he?" suggested Captain Ezra, turning to Captain
Dewey, who, in the excitement had taken two big chews of tobacco, one
after another, and was working both sides of his jaws at once. "The
last t' leave his sinkin' ship. That's well an' proper."
The young man--for he was scarcely more than thirty--needed some
assistance up the side, for Captain Ezra's boot-heel had come nigh to
staving in his chest.
"Naow, foller me, young man," Captain Ezra continued, walking toward
the quarter-deck. He ascended the ladder to the poop, and the dripping
figure, a little weak in the knees, guarded by a boat-steerer armed
with a harpoon, obeyed and followed. As the Captain turned to meet him
he noticed that the man in uniform still had his side-arms.
"I'll trouble you for that thar fancy blubber-knife, young man," he
said, "an' then I'll talk t' ye." The officer detached his sword from
his belt and handed it over. He had not offered yet to say a word.
"Naow," said Captain Ezra, holding the sword behind his back, "who be
ye, an' what d' yer want? as I observed before."
"I'm Lieutenant Levison of His Majesty's brig _Badger_."
"Waal, ye ought to be ashamed of yourself," broke in Captain Ezra.
[Illustration: "'What d'ye mean by attackin' a peaceful whaler?'"]
"I am," responded the young man. "You may believe that, truly."
"Waal, what d'ye mean by attackin' a peaceful whaler?"
"Why, don't you know?" replied the officer, with an expression of
astonishment.
"Know what?"
"That there's a war between England and America?"
"Dew tell!" ejaculated Captain Steele, huskily, almost dropping his
pipe. He stepped forward to the break of the poop.
"Captain Dewey," he shouted, "this here feller says thar's a war."
"So these folks have been tellin'," answered the Captain of the _Elijah
Mason_; "but I don't believe it. They're pirates; that's what they be."
"Gosh, I guess that's so," said Captain Ezra. "I reckon you're
pirates," turning to the officer. "I hain't heard tell of no war."
"We are not pirates," hotly returned the young man. "Damn your
insolence, I'm an officer of His Britannic Majesty, King George!"
"Tush, tush! no swearin' aboard this ship. What was you goin' to do,
rowin' off to us?"
The officer remained silent, fuming in his anger. "I was going to make
a prize of you; and if I had you on board ship, I'd----"
"Belay that!" ordered Captain Ezra, calmly. "Ye didn't make a prize of
me, an' you're aboard my ship. Don't forgit it."
"Well," broke in the young man, angrily, "what are you going to do with
me?" Captain Dewey had by this time come up on the quarter-deck,
followed by the mates.
"I presume likely," said the skipper of the _Blazing Star_, rather
thoughtfully, "I presume likely we'll hang ye."
The Englishman--for all doubts as to his nationality were set at rest
by his appearance and manner of speech--drew back a step. His face,
that had grown red in his anger, turned white again, and he gave a
glance over his shoulder. The brig, hopelessly becalmed, lay way off
against the horizon.
As he looked, a puff of smoke broke from her bows. It was the signal
for recall. He winced, and his eye followed the glance of the stalwart
figure with the harpoon that stood behind him.
"For God's sake, don't do that!" he said hastily. "I tell you, sir,
that there is a war. There has been war for almost four months now.
Upon my word of honor."
The two captains exchanged looks of incredulity. Suddenly the
prisoner's face lit up. "I can prove it to you," he said excitedly.
"Here is a Yankee newspaper we took from a schooner we captured off the
Capes five days ago."
"_The New Bedford Chronicle_, by gosh!" exclaimed Captain Ezra, in
astonishment, taking the soaked brown package. He spread it out on the
rail.
"It's true, Cap'n Sammy, it's true," he continued excitedly. "Thar's a
war; listen to this," and he read in his halting, sailor manner, the
startling headlines: "The Frigate _Constitution_ Captures the British
Frigate _Guerriere_. Hurrah for Hull and his Gallant Seamen! Again the
Eagle Screams with Victory."
There was much more to it, and Captain Ezra read every word. "Young
man," he said at last, "I owe ye an apology. If ye'll come daown into
our cabin, I kin mix ye a toddy of fine old Medford rum. Between lawful
an' honest enemies there should be no hard feelin's, when the fate of
war delivers one into the hands of 'tother. Cap'n Sammy," he observed
as he reached the cabin, "if we had really knowed thar was a war, we'd
a gone back and took that thar brig."
"Yaas," returned Captain Dewey, "we be summat behind the times."
His eyes twinkled as he glanced out of the cabin window. Still becalmed
and almost hull down, H.M.S. _Badger_ was but a speck against the
horizon.
The Englishman drew a long deep breath.
"Come, sir," spoke up Captain Ezra. "Don't get down hearted. 'Live an
learn,' that's my motto. We're drinkin' your good health, sir, join
right in."
* * * * *
When the _Blazing Star_ arrived in port, she turned over to the United
States authorities an officer and twelve men, prisoners of war.
THE COWARD
He said that he had been impressed into the English service from the
brig _Susan Butler_, of New York. But what grounds the boarding officer
had taken in supposing him to be a British subject would puzzle most.
The cocked-hats generally left a merchant vessel's side with the pick
of the unfortunate crew. The qualifications necessary for a peaceable
Yankee merchant sailor to change his vocation and become a servant of
King George were plain and simple in 1810: ruddy cheeks--crisp curling
hair--youth, health, and strength, why! of English birth and parentage
most certainly! What use the papers stating that his name was Esek
Cobb, or Hezekiah Brown? His home port or natal town Portsmouth, N.H.,
Bath, Me., or Baltimore? He spoke the mother tongue; he was an A.B. His
services were needed to fight old England's enemies, and away he would
go in the stern sheets of the press boat, bitter curses on his lips and
irons on his wrists.
But this straight-haired, Indian-featured, narrow-shouldered half-man
who stood there on the _Constitution's_ deck, with his soaked, scanty
clothes, clinging to his thin, big-jointed limbs, why in the name of
the Lion or the Unicorn, or the Saint or the Dragon, for that matter,
had they chosen him? He told his tale in a low, whimpering voice, with
his eyes shifting from one deck-seam to another--Five years in the
Royal British Navy!--Five years of glorious service of the one who
rules the common heritage of all the peopled earth--Five years of
spirit-murdering slavery.
Not six cable-lengths away, a dark shape against the lights of the
town, lay the great ship from whose side he had lowered himself in the
darkness to swim to the shelter of the smart, tall-sparred frigate,
over whose taffrail he had watched his country's flag swinging in the
sunlight, tempting him all the day. He had fought against the swiftly
running tide until at last--just as his strength had left him--he had
been hauled on board by the anchor watch, and now his one prayer was
that they would not give him up. The men who stood about looked
pityingly at his shivering figure. A middy, attracted by the commotion,
had hastened aft to find the officer of the deck. The forecastle people
murmured among themselves.
"Captain Hull won't give you up, lad," said one, laying his hand on the
poor fellow's shoulder.
"This ship is not the _Chesapeake_," said another; "don't ye fear,
man."
"Here's the Leftenant," put in another--"'tention!"
"What's going on here?" asked a low voice.
The sailor who had last spoken touched his cap.
"I was down making the running-boat fast to the boom, sir, when I hears
a faint cry, and I sees a man in the water just alongside, sir. I lays
hold of him, and thinkin' it's one of our crew, sir, we gets him
quietly at the forechains; then we sees as how he ain't one of us,
sir,--he says."
"That'll do; let him speak for himself. Where did you come from, my
man?"
"From the _Poictiers_, yonder, sir. For the sake of mercy don't give me
up!"
"Are you an American?"
"Yes, sir; God's truth, I am."
"Your name?"
"McGovern, sir."
"Where were you born, McGovern?"
The stern, matter-of-fact inquiry could scarce conceal the pity in the
tone; but it was the officer-voice speaking.
"In Water Street, New York, sir, not far from the big church--Oh, for
the love of----"
"You speak like an Irishman."
"My parents were Irish, your honor, but I was born in the little house
fourth from the corner. You won't let them---- Oh, God help me!"
The sturdy rocking beat of oars near to hand off the port quarter
caused an interruption. The fugitive gave a quick glance full of terror
in the direction of the sound; then he dropped forward upon his knees;
his whimpering changed to a hoarse weeping whisper.
"Don't give me up; I'd rather die--save me--save me," he croaked.
One of the watch came hurrying aft. "There's a cutter here at the
gangway," he said in a low voice, saluting the Lieutenant.
"Very good, my lad," responded the latter. "Take this man below, give
him dry clothes and a place to sleep."
Two men helped the abject creature to his feet and led him sobbing to
the forward hatchway. The Lieutenant stepped to the side.
"On board the cutter there," he called, "what do you want at this hour
of night?" Well he knew, and he spoke as if the answer had been given.
"On board the frigate," was the reply. "We're looking for a deserter;
he started to swim off to you; has he reached here?"
The Lieutenant disdained deception. "We fished a half drowning man out
of the water a few minutes since," he replied quietly, leaning over the
gangway railing.
"He's a deserter from my ship; I'll be obliged if you will hand him
over.--This is Lieutenant Colson, of the _Poictiers_."
"Sorry not to grant Lieutenant Colson's request; the man claims
protection as an American. Captain Hull will have to look into the
matter.--This is Lieutenant Morris, of the _Constitution_."
"I should like to see Captain Hull at once. In bow there, make fast to
the gangway."
"Hold hard, sir. The Captain is asleep; I cannot waken him."
"I demand you do--you are in one of His Majesty's ports."
"I know that well enough--keep off the side, sir." There was a moment's
silence, and then the same level tone was heard addressing some one on
the deck. "Call the guard; let no one come on board the ship to-night."
There was the sound of some movement on the _Constitution's_ deck;
the fast ebb tide clopped and gurgled about the vessel's counter
mirthfully. The Englishman, standing erect in the stern sheets of the
little cutter bobbing against the frigate's side, hesitated.
"On board the frigate, there!"
"Well, sir, in the cutter!"
"Heark'ee! You'll repent this rashness, I can warrant you that, my
friend; you will pay high for your damned Yankee insolence, mark my
words. Shove off there forward" (this to the bowman)--"shove off there,
you clumsy fool! Let fall!"
There had been no reply from the bulwarks to the Englishman's burst of
temper; but Lieutenant Morris stood there drumming with his fingers on
the hilt of his sword, and looking out into the darkness. Then an odd
smile that was near to being scornful crossed his face, and he turned
quietly and began the slow swinging pace up and down the quarter-deck.
That Captain Hull would sanction and approve his conduct, he did not
have the least suspicion of a doubt; if not on general principles, on
account of a certain specific reason--to be told in a few short
words:--
It had happened that three days previous to the very evening, a steward,
who had been accused of robbing the ward-room mess of liquor, and
incidentally of drunkenness arising from the theft, was up for
punishment--somehow he had managed to take French leave by jumping
out of a lower port. He had been picked up by the running-boat of the
flagship. At once he had claimed to be a subject of King George, and,
needless to record, the statement was accepted without question--whether
he was or not bore little weight, and cuts no figure in this tale.
Suffice it: Captain Hull's polite request for the man's return was
laughed at, very openly laughed at, and the Admiral's reply was a
thinly veneered sneer--why, the very idea of such a thing!
Now here was a chance for that soul-satisfying game of turn and turn
about. Lieutenant Morris, as he paced the broad quarter-deck, felt sure
he had voiced Captain Hull's feelings, and then he began a little
mental calculation, and as he did so, slightly quickened his stride,
and came a few paces further forward until he was opposite the port
gangway. There he stopped and looked out at the swinging anchor lights.
Six hundred odd guns against forty-four! And then there were the land
batteries and the channel squadron probably outside. But actually, what
mattered the odds? On the morrow there was going to be something to
talk about, that was fact, and Lieutenant Morris smiled as brave men do
when they look forward to contest, and know they have right with them.
The poor, whimpering dog who had claimed protection was probably not
worth his salt, and was certainly not needed; but rather than give him
up, Isaac Hull would go to the bottom (in his very best, brand-new
uniform, Morris knew that well enough), and with him would go four
hundred sturdy lads by the right of their own manly choice.
"And egad they'd have company," Morris reasoned out loud, with that
strange smile of his.
Captain Hull heard the news and all about it at breakfast, and the only
sign that it interested him in the least was the fact that he rubbed
his heavy legs in their silk stockings (he generally wore silk in port)
contentedly together beneath the table, and disguised a wide smile with
a large piece of toast.
"Have the man given a number and assigned to a watch, Mr. Morris," was
his only comment to the Lieutenant's story.
That was simple enough. But the heavy, red-faced Commodore, although
prone to extravagant indulgence in expansive shirt frills, jewelry, and
gold lace, usually went at matters in the simplest manner and after the
most direct fashion. There did not appear to be any question on this
present occasion; he to all appearances dismissed the subject from his
mind; but Morris knew better--"Wait," said he to himself, "and we will
see what we will see." And although this is the tritest remark in the
world, it was more or less fitting, as will be shortly proved.
At nine o'clock a letter arrived from the English Admiral. It was
couched in the usual form, it was full of "best compliments," and
bristled with references to "courtesy and distinguished conduct in the
past," and it was signed "Obd't servant." But it said and meant plainly
enough: "Just take our advice and hand this fellow over, Captain
Hull,--right away please, no delay; don't stop for anything. He
deserves to be abolished for presuming that he has a country that will
protect him."
The word had flown about the decks that the English cutter was
alongside with a message from the flagship. The crew had all tumbled up
from below, and a hum of voices arose from the forecastle.
"Bill Roberts, here, he was on watch when they hauled 'im on board,
warent ye, Bill?--I seed him when they brought 'im below--he had the
shakes bad, didn't he, Bill?" The speaker was a short, thickset man,
who had a way of turning his head quickly from side to side as he
spoke. His long, well-wrapped queue that hung down his back would whip
across from one shoulder to the other.
"We thought it was one of yesterday's liberty party trying to get back
to the ship," responded the man addressed as Bill. "But when we got him
on deck we seed as how he warent one of us, as I told the First Luf.
Did you see his back, Tom, when we peeled his shirt off?"
"God a' mercy! I seed it."
Well those marks were known. Deep red scars, crisscrossed with heavy,
unhealed, blue-rimmed cuts, feverish and noisome.
"He was whipped through the fleet ten days ago. So he says. I don't
know what for, exactly; says he found a midshipman's handkerchief on
deck, and not knowin' whose 'was, put it into his ditty box--some such
yarn.--Jack here, he tells of somethin' like that, when he was
impressed out of the _Ariadne_ into the old _Southampton_, don't ye,
Jack?"
"Yes, but damn the yarn--this fellow--where is he now?" asked a tall,
light-haired foretopman, around whose muscular throat was tattooed a
chain and locket, the latter with a very red-cheeked and exceedingly
blue-eyed young person smiling out through the opening in his shirt.
"He's hidin' somewhere down in the hold, I reckon," answered a little,
nervous man; "nobody could find him this morning; guess he's had all
the spunk licked out of him."
"I've heard tell of that before," remarked the tall foretopman. "His
spirit's broke."
Just at this moment the English Lieutenant who had borne the message
from the Admiral hurried up from the cabin where he had been in
consultation with Captain Hull. His face was very red, and he gave a
hasty glance at the crowded forecastle, as if trying to enumerate the
men and their quality. Then he hastened down the side, and when he had
rowed off some dozen strokes he gave the order to cease rowing. Then
standing up he looked back at the frigate he had left, taking in all
her points, the number of her guns, and marking her heavy scantling
with a critic's eye. Then he seated himself again, and pulled away for
the flagship.
His departure had been watched by four hundred pairs of eyes, and this
last act of his had not been passed by unnoticed.
"Takin' our measure," observed Bill Roberts, cockswain of the Captain's
gig, turning to Tom Grattan, the thickset, black-headed captain of the
maintop. The latter grinned up at him.
"There'll be the Divil among the tailors," he said.
The tall foretopman, who was standing near by, folded his heavy arms
across his chest.
"We'll have some lively tumbling here in about a minute, take my word
for that, mates," he chuckled, "or my name's not Jack Lange"; and as he
spoke, Captain Hull, followed by all of his lieutenants, came up on
deck. The Captain turned and spoke a few words to Mr. Cunningham, the
ship's master. The latter, followed by three or four midshipmen,
hurried forward. Some of the men advanced to meet him.
"All of you to your stations," he ordered quietly. "Gunners, prepare to
cast loose and provide port and starboard main-deck guns. The rest
stand by ready to make sail if we get a wind off shore."
He gave the orders for the capstan bars to be fitted, and turning to
the ship armorer he told him to provide cutlasses and small-arms for
the crew.
Quietly boarding-nettings were made ready to be spread, the magazines
were opened, even buckets of sand were brought and placed about; sand
to be used in case the decks became too slippery from the blood. Down
in the cockpit the doctor had laid out his knives and saws on the
table. In five minutes the _Constitution_ had been prepared for
action. And all this had been accomplished without a sound, without a
shouted order or the shrilling of a pipe!
Captain Hull inspected ship. Silent, deep-breathing men watched him as
he passed along. At every division he stopped and said a few words.
"Lads, we are not going to give this man up upon demand. Remember the
_Chesapeake_. We are going to defend ourselves if necessary, and
be ready for it." He made the same speech in about the same words at
least half a dozen times. Then he went into his cabin and donned his
best new uniform, with a shining pair of bullion epaulets. This done,
he gave a touch to his shirt frills before the glass and went on deck.