_THE RUSE OF THE CAPTAIN, MUTINY! A NEW COMMANDER. ATTEMPTED
ASSASSINATION. A FATAL AND BLOODY SCENE. SAIL HO! AN ENEMY. THE PINE
TREE FLAG. THE SEA FIGHT AND THE VICTORY._
|All the crew of the brig Constance, save the captain, first mate and
cook, were Americans, if we except Terrence Mooney who was one at heart,
and the captain had managed to have this the case in order that he might
take them home to England and receive the bounty money upon each one who
would be immediately pressed into the British Navy. He had arrived at
Boston but a few weeks previous to his sailing upon the present voyage
with a crew of his own countrymen, upon whom he had also played the same
trick, by delivering them over to the King’s ship that floated in Boston
harbor, It was a hard fate to most of them who would as willingly
have been immured in the walls of a prison. They told as a matter of
consolation that they would not have to serve but about three years! And
this, to men who had left families at home, to whom they had expected to
return in a few weeks. It is a foul deed to impress a man into any duty,
and foul must be the service that requires the exercise of such deeds.
The captain of the Constance was enabled to obtain a sufficient number
of Americans to man his craft, by offering very high wages, and under
the pretence of making a voyage to the West Indies only and back, for
they knew not of his treachery to his former crew. The plan of the
captain in the present case was, after reaching his port in those
latitudes, to pretend to have ascertained that which rendered it
absolutely necessary for him to proceed immediately to England,
intending to pacify the crew by the promise of immediate return and
increase of pay. This piece of treachery the captain thought was known
only to himself and his first mate, but he was mistaken for Channing
had announced to Jack Herbert as the reader will remember, the
destination of the brig, on the evening previous to their sailing from
Boston. Thus it was evident that Channing fully understood the proposed
treachery and that he designed to turn it to good advantage, or else he
would not have shipped on board knowing that which he did.
The North American Colonies were then at war with the mother country,
the brig was a British brig, and Channing was an American. His heart
beat warmly for the cause of his country, he looked about him, there
were twenty men, all save one, his fellow countrymen, about to be
betrayed into the hands of their enemies. His mind was determined, and
he said within himself this shall not be! He had fortunately overheard
the captain and the first mate congratulating themselves on having so
nearly obtained their full complement of men on the day previous to the
enlistment of Herbert, and thus had he become master of their secret
purpose of treachery.
Already had the brig changed the chill northern blasts for the sunny
breezes of the South, and she was, according to the reckoning of
Channing, about a day’s sail from Cuba, when he determined that the
good brig Constance should change hands, and from a British, become an
American craft. It was a bold undertaking; the two greatest sins that a
sailor is taught to dread, Mutiny and piracy, were staring him full in
the face. He did not design to implicate a single member of the crew in
the transaction, but resolved to make the attempt to gain possession of
the vessel, alone and unassisted. He had two reasons for this: first,
he was too good a disciplinarian to tamper with those below him, and he
foresaw that if he should once become familiar with them in a matter of
conspiracy, he could no longer command their respect. Then again he felt
that he had no right to draw them into the danger incurred, and that it
would be far more noble in him to accomplish that which was to be done
with his own hands--after that, if he proved successful, those could
join him who felt disposed. Early one morning, Channing went down into
the captain’s cabin, whom he found just rising from his bed. Stepping to
the table he possessed himself of the brace of pistols that lay upon
it, and also the cutlass that hung from the wall; then turning to the
captain who was hardly yet awake, he said: ‘Captain Brownless, you are
my prisoner!’
‘Sir?’ said the astonished commander. ‘You are my prisoner!’ repeated
Channing. ‘Mutiny?’ enquiringly put the captain, a dark scowl gathering
like a cloud over his bloated, bacchanalian countenance. ‘Yes, mutiny if
you please.’
‘By Heaven, but we will fight for it,’ said Captain Brownless, who was
a man of some bravery--brave as the animal or wild beast is brave in
defending its own, not nobly so.
‘Stay, sir,’ said Channing, coolly cocking a pistol and presenting it
at the captain’s breast. ‘If you attempt to leave this cabin, you are a
dead man!’
The captain sank down upon a chair in despair. ‘Be peaceable, sir,’
said Channing, ‘and I will pledge myself that no harm shall befall you
personally; but seek to make even a breath of noise, or resistance, and
you shall be sent into eternity with all your sins upon your head.’
Channing then proceeded to the cabin of the second officer, but not
until he had locked the captain securely in his own apartment.
‘Banning, I regret to say you are my prisoner,’ said Channing to the
mate, after securing his arms as he had done the captain’s.
‘Hey? what, mutiny?’ ejaculated the terrified man. ‘Yes, Banning, and
piracy if you will.’
‘Oh! spare my life,’ said the trembling coward. ‘No danger, sir, if you
remain quiet.’
‘Oh, I’ll do nothing,’ continued the mate. ‘Show your obedience by being
quiet now.’
Channing then locked Banning in his state-room, and ascended to the
deck. He had left Jack Herbert at the helm and in charge of the ship;
he now sent him forward to order the crew aft to where he stood, as he
wished to speak with them.
‘Well my boys,’ commenced Channing addressing the crew,
‘I have got some news for you. The captain is disarmed and locked in his
cabin as my prisoner; so is Mr. Banning, the mate.
I have done this because I’m determined to have possession of this brig
myself. She’s a British brig, you are all, or nearly so, Americans; I
am also an American, and this brig must belong to Americans. I am alone
responsible for what has been done. You are now without a captain. How
many of you will ship under me?’
‘All--all,’ was the response from every quarter.
‘Thanks to you, my men. I shall leave it to Mr. Herbert--mark me, it is
Mr. Herbert in future--to tell you of the treachery that it was proposed
to play off upon you. He will also be my second in command, and you will
obey him as you would do and have ever done me. I shall alter the course
of the brig and stand for St. Domingo, where I shall land the captain
and mate, and those of you who do not feel inclined to join me. Then I
am bound on an expedition to free a couple of Americans from a Spanish
prison. After that, why, we will see what next--perhaps a few prizes or
something of that sort.’
Jack Herbert had already told the men of his confinement and escape
from prison at Havana, and of the present confinement of Lovell and
his comrade there, and when they heard their new captain express his
determination to release them if the thing was possible, they joined
unanimously and heartily in the enterprise.
‘Hurrah, hurrah,’ said they altogether, it being the only way in which
they could express their satisfaction.
‘Now mark me, men,’ said Channing, ‘I think you all know me without
my giving you such a speech as we had on leaving Boston harbor. I _am_
captain, that you all acknowledge, and that I am one who _will_ be
obeyed, I believe you all know, as well as that I have the comfort and
good of every man of you at heart. These I shall consider as long as we
sail together, this I think you are satisfied of--’
‘Three cheers for Captain Channing,’ interrupted the crew at this point,
and the brig trembled at the echo of the hearty voices of those old
sea-dogs who had now got a commander just to their minds.
‘Enough,’ said Channing raising his hand for silence; ‘now forward
to your duty, and let me see you all as zealous in its performance as
heretofore.’
‘There’s a captain to live and die by,’ said Terrence Moony.
The brig held on her course, and was now just abreast of the fatal
reef of rocks known as the ‘Silver keys’ Their dangerous proximity gave
little alarm to those on board the Constance, for they knew nothing
of their character, and by good fortune passed them in safety. This
well-known reef is now laid down in every chart, but it has proved since
that time, the burial place of many a gallant ship and noble crew.
Channing had chosen his officers from the crew, making Jack Herbert his
first mate as we have seen; he was fortunate in having those on board
who were good practical seamen, and such to as he need not fear to
trust. It is now night, and Channing leaving the deck in charge of
Herbert, sought the cabin for the purpose of getting a few hours’ sleep.
He was very weary, indeed almost tired out, for he allowed himself but
little rest, being almost constantly on deck through the whole of the
day and much of the night.
The cook, as we have before mentioned, was the only one of the crew
besides Terrence Moony, the mate and captain, who were not Americans by
birth, and as he had appeared to coincide with the rest in hailing the
new captain with demonstrations of joy, he had been permitted to remain
in his former station and at liberty. Now although Banning the ex-mate
was a coward himself, still he could intrigue and plan for others to
execute; and being allowed his liberty by Channing, who considered him
as a weak, inoffensive person, he set himself to work to overthrow him
if possible. He therefore conspired with the cook, whom he knew to be a
reckless, blood-thirsty man, to murder Channing on the first favorable
opportunity. The man needed but little urging, and being promised
a handsome reward and promotion if he succeeded, he undertook to
accomplish the foul deed.
Captain Brownless had also been allowed his liberty in the vessel with
certain restrictions, by reason of the unanimous feeling of the crew
against him, for his former course of treatment towards them. Although
Banning might have found a ready tool in the late captain, and a brave
one too yet he disliked him so much at heart that he would not conspire
with him even in this extremity. For this reason, the proposed attack
which was to be made on Channing on the night in which we have just
spoken of him as returning to the cabin to sleep, was known only to
Banning and the cook.
About the middle watch of the night, the cook left his hammock and stole
quietly towards the captain’s cabin. In his hand he held a long, sharp
knife prepared for the occasion, and with which he designed to take the
life of Channing. Satisfying himself that he was not watched, he reached
the door of the cabin in safety, though he was somewhat surprised to
find it partially open and the light extinguished. All was as dark as
night itself, but the cook trusted to his knowledge of the apartment,
and passed on groping his way in silence, when suddenly he felt that his
hand touched the warm face of a man, and in the next moment the two
were engaged in mortal strife, each stabbing the other in the dark with
fearful accuracy!--The noise thus caused in the cabin brought down a
part of the watch from the deck with ship lanterns, when lo a horrid
sight met their eyes!
There lay upon the floor of the cabin weltering in their blood, the cook
and Captain Brownless. Both had sought the spot for the same object,
intent upon taking the life of Channing, and each had thought he had his
enemy in his grasp, until the lights were brought and discovered to
them their situation; Channing stood with a pistol cocked in either hand
ready to defend himself if necessary, but now seeing the true state of
the case, he cooly remembered that there were two the less of them, and
ordered the bodies removed.
‘The divil take um, and salvation to the captain,’ said Terrence Moony,
‘aint he in holy keeping? and what’s the use of trying to kill a man
that has the saints on his side? Arrah murtheration how heavy ye’s is,’
said he as he assisted to remove the bodies.
The late captain of the Constance and the cook lived but a few hours
after the desperate conflict we have described, and their bodies were
soon consigned to the deep. Suspicion was laid at once to Banning as the
instigator of the cook, and it required the stern authority of Channing
to keep the crew from falling upon him, and murdering him outright. In a
few subsequent days with his effects he was landed at the island of
St. Domingo; thus leaving the brig manned, and officered entirely by
Americans, and no mean antagonist was she now for an enemy to cope with.
Channing felt himself now master when he looked about him and saw none
but his own countrymen with whom he had a common interest. He did not
propose to run any unnecessary hazard, such as attempting to take a
prize or otherwise, previous to his attempt to liberate the prisoners
at Havana. But as the brig was blowing swiftly on her course towards the
Spanish port just named, the voice of the look-out aloft was heard in
the cheering cry of:
‘Sail ho!’
‘Where away,’ demanded the captain.
‘Right ahead, sir.’
‘What do you make it out?’
‘I can only see her top-sails, sir, she looms up like a large ship.’
The course of the brig was altered to one or two points more Southerly,
and ere long the strange sail creeping up inch by inch in-the horizon
was distinctly visible from the deck. She was evidently a barque of
about five hundred tons burthen, and had the appearance of being an
English merchantman.
‘Mr. Herbert,’ said the captain, ‘what do you make out of the sail
yonder?’
‘A British barque, sir,’
‘No doubt, but do you think her armed?’
‘She’s lower in the waist than we are, sir, and yet I can’t justly make
out the deck, sir,’ was the reply of the second officer.
‘Run up to the fore-top cross trees, sir, and take this glass with you.’
‘Ay ay, sir,’ said Herbert leaping up the rigging to get a better view
of the stranger, who was now nearing them fast.
‘Fore-cross trees there,’ hailed Channing after allowing Herbert time to
get a good look at the stranger.
‘Ay, ay, sir.’
‘Can you make out her armament?’
‘She’s got five or six caronnades on her deck, sir, but nothing of very
heavy calibre that I can make out.’
‘That will do, sir.’
This was equivalent to saying, ‘you may come down, Mr. Herbert,’ and so
Jack came down to the quarter-deck.
‘Mr. Herbert, that is St. George’s flag floating from the main of
that barque. Shall we show them the flag of the colonies? What think
you--would they stare at it?’
‘No doubt of that, sir, being’s he’s never been in these latitudes yet,
but where can we get one, sir?’
‘I have looked out for that.’
Thus saying Channing retired to the cabin, but soon returned to the deck
with a flag bearing the device of a pine tree.
‘Run that up, and fire a gun, sir.’
‘Ay, ay, sir,’ and up went the humble flag of the North American
colonies.
This was scarcely done when the barque sent a shot towards the brig in
defiance. The Constance did not have the appearance of an armed vessel
when seen from a distance and her ports closed, and indeed she appeared
much inferior to her true size by reason of her sitting low in the
water and the height of her waist hiding her armament. Even the long
tom amidships was so covered over with ropes and other ship gear, that
unless a close observer, one would not have discovered it. The captain
of the English barque evidently expected to make an easy prey of her,
and therefore began to fire, by way of bravado, long before he had got
within gun shot with his own light metal.
‘Clear away the long tom,’ said Channing.’
The gear was cast from its fastenings, and the deck about it was cleared
of the heaps of rubbish and all obstacles about it.
‘We’ll play him a game of long bowls, Mr. Herbert,’ said the captain of
the brig, ‘and this we can do with safety if your surmise with regard to
his armament be true.’
‘I’m the more convinced of it, sir, from the fact of his throwing those
small shot at us from the distance he holds,’ said Herbert.
‘Just so, no doubt, step forward there and oversee that gun, don’t throw
away a single shot, we shall need them all.’
‘Ay, ay, sir,’ said the prompt and obedient Herbert.
Herbert pointed the gun, and though he was an excellent sailor, but in
the matter of gunnery, he had but very little if any experience. His
first shot therefore sunk somewhere about half way between the two
vessels. The next broke the water about a quarter of a mile ahead of the
barque, and the next half as far astern. While he was loading the fourth
time, Channing called to him cheerfully, saying: ‘You have got the
elevation, Herbert, now put a shot right between those two last and you
have the aim.’
‘Ay, ay, sir,’ said the mortified mate, who could not but be a little
chagrined at his unfortunate luck, albeit it was new business to him.
Bang! went the long tom again, and Herbert leaping upon a gun carriage,
raised himself above the waist of the Constance, to watch the effect of
the shot. Scarcely had the heavy report of the gun died away to leeward,
before the splinters were seen to fly from the deck of the barque in
great abundance.
‘Well done, Mr. Herbert,’ said the captain, ‘you have got her bearing
now, don’t let the gun cool, sir.’
The long tom then commenced a conversation of the most convincing
character to the crew of the barque, who were compelled to receive shot
after shot from the brig without being able to return the compliment,
the Constance being kept well out of the way of the small shot. The brig
had the weather gage and she was much the best sailor, therefore she
chose her own position. This was a game that could not last long, and
the barque at length after being severely cut up in her rigging and
losing several of her crew, was absolutely compelled to haul down her
flag, or be sunk where she lay. Several of the shot from the Constance
had struck her about the water line and she had also suffered so much
in her rigging as to render an attempt at escape fool-hardy. It was a
difficult matter for the captain of the barque to strike the English
flag to one that he neither knew or had ever heard of before, but stern
necessity was imperative, and the proud flag of St. George was lowered
to the pine tree of the American Colonies.
This was one of the earliest if not the very first capture upon the high
seas so far from our own country by the humble but victorious flag of
the Colonies. It was then a child, it is now grown to the full stature
of a man, and floats proudly in every sea, and undaunted side by side
with equal honor and equally respected with that of the mother country.
Who could have foretold its future glory and power? Those who fought
under that flag little dreamed of it, but Heaven was with the right and
they were victorious. The pride of the parent country was to receive a
fall, its arrogance was to be signally reproved and this was to be done
by her dependant Colonies of North America.
It _was done!_
The barque was the George of Bristol, and did we deem it of any
importance to our tale we could easily prove to the reader here the
authenticity of this engagement between the brig Constance which
had fallen into the hands of the Americans and the barque George,
merchantman of Bristol, England. The pine tree flag had never before
floated in the seas of the West Indias and Captain Channing’s hand was
the first to give it to the breeze and fight under its folds in these
seas of perpetual summer.