_FORECASTLE TALK, A NEW ENEMY, A CHASE, THE STORM. THE ACTION. THE
FORTUNES OF THE FIGHT. SCENE ON BOARD THE ENEMY. THE TRICK. FEARFUL
ENCOUNTER. SINGULAR DISCOVERY. FANNY A PRISONER. A PEEP AT THE
CAMPBELLS’ FIRE-SIDE. THE PARENTS AT HOME._
|Let us see how this mode of disposing of the case of the prisoner was
received by the inhabitants of the forecastle, the rough and hardy men
before the mast. Terrence Moony had come to be a sort of leader as it
were among the crew, in all manner of opinion and judgment. Firstly,
because he appeared to be peculiarly gifted with the ‘gab,’ as they
say of a talkative man at sea, and secondly, because he was a jolly,
free-hearted, whole-souled sort of a man. Terrence was very ready with
his opinions on every occasion, being in no way loth to express them
freely, and more especially at such a time and on such an occasion as
the present. He always stood up for the captain, though for the matter
of that, there was no man of the crew but would do the same. But then
Terrence Moony was particularly sensitive on this point, and was sure to
take up the most distant allusion that could possibly be made to reflect
upon him.
‘Now who but our captain could have done that?’ asked Terrence
confidently, referring to the freeing of the Englishman, ‘jist tell
me that; and thin ain’t that British man another man altogether, ever
since, intirely. Arrah, it’s the captain of us that’s under holy kapin’.
‘Hark ye, brother,’ said an old tar in reply to Terrence, and, by way of
expressing an opinion, ‘whatever my friends may say for or against me,
and whatever may be my other good points, they can’t say I’m much of a
scholar, but for all that I think I know something about human nature,
and damme if I wouldn’t trust this big Englishman with a match beside
the magazine, if it had as many openings as a Chinese junk has windows.’
‘Well--’ said another very quietly, ‘I did think that captain Channing
was a little hasty when he found out--’
‘Hey? What the divil did ye say?’ put in Terrence Moony fiercely, ‘the
captain to blame,’ and he clenched a fist the size of a small infant’s
head; ‘where’s the man that will say that?’
‘Avast there, brother,’ said the offender, ‘I say I _did_ think him a
little hasty at first, but then you see the result is all right, and no
doubt the captain was within soundings all the while.’
‘To be sure he was,’ said Terrence, cooling his ire somewhat slowly.
‘I have seen as fine a seaman as this Englishman,’ said a third, whipt
up to the end of a yard on board a British man of war, at the signal of
a gun, but he didn’t come down _reformed_ this man is, because why,
d’ye see, he come down stiff and dead, and the next hour fed the sharks
alongside. Now it seems to me that the best punishment must be that sort
which brings a man into the port of repentance, and not such as will
knock a hole in his bottom, and sink him before he gets in sight of it.’
‘That’s jist the talk, now,’ said Terrence Moony. ‘What’s the use of
hanging a man? thin he’s no use at all, nather to himself nor any body
else. Arrah, it’s a mighty miserable use to put a man to.’
‘Who’d have thought that the young man, our commander God bless him,’
said an old weather-beaten mariner, would have had the mercy and
discrimination to have done this piece of work. I’ve sailed upon the sea
eight and thirty years, and I never saw a thing handsomer done on the
ocean.’
Terrence here clapped his hands with delight. He had a perfect
infatuation, a sort of _monomania_ relative to Captain Channing, and the
faithful fellow would have deemed it an enviable lot to have laid down
his life for him at any moment.
‘Aain’t he a jewel, thin?’ said Terrence.
‘Look ye, messmates, did it ever occur to any of ye that our captain is
a _Pirate_, after all,’ said the old seaman.
‘Hey? What’s that?’ said Terrence, ‘do you want me to kill you intirely,
Mr. Bolt, or why the divil are ye calling the captain names?’
‘I don’t mean to cast any reflections upon Captain Channing. No, he’s a
captain to live and die under; that all will agree To. But, supposing,
mess-mates, a British man-of-war should come down from Boston harbor,
here-a-way, and run us aboard and take the pretty little Constance,
as she would do? I can tell you, brothers. Captain Channing would be
dangling from the yard arm of that same man-of-war an hour afterwards as
a _Pirate!_’
‘How the deuce can you make that out?’ asked one of the first speakers.
‘Ain’t the Colonies honestly at war with the English? and have we been
cruising against any other nation but them? To be sure, we rummaged that
bit of a prison there at Havana, you know, but we didn’t do any harm.
A prison’s a prison, and a ship’s a ship; it can’t be piracy to storm a
prison-house, dy’e see.’
‘True, brother, but didn’t our Captain ship in the brig Constance as
second?’ asked the other speaker; ‘and ain’t he captain of her now
by his own making, and ain’t the brig his? Can you tell what all this
signifies? It looks to me like what a court-martial would call piracy,
that’s all.’
‘Perhaps so; but we ain’t going for to be taken, you see,’ said a new
speaker, ‘and that makes all the difference in the world’ This remark
was received with a hearty laugh by all and the conversation took
another turn.
‘Let’s drop this subject, messmates; it’s no use talking about it,’ said
another. ‘Come, whose turn is it to spin a yarn?’
‘Aye, whose turn is it?’ asked several voices at the same time.
‘Come, Brace,’ said one or two of the men, ‘it’s yours, so just come to
an anchor alongside here on this chest, and pay out.’
‘Ay, ay, my hearties. Avast there, Terrence Moony with your blarney,
while I spin a yarn, do you hear, boy?’
‘Ay, ay, brother, go ahead,’ said Terrence, good naturedly.
Bolling a monstrous quid of tobacco about his mouth for a few minutes,
he who was to speak, at length settled it quietly in one side of his
cheek, plugging it well down with his tongue, then lounging into an easy
attitude, he began:
‘It may be that there is some of you as have sailed up there to the
Northerd, where it is so cold that a man don’t dare to stand still for a
moment for fear that he shall be frozen to death. No? Well, I have then,
and it’s about one of them cruises that I’m going to tell you. You see,
we were up there knocking about for some good reason, but for what I
don’t know, as our captain sailed with sealed orders, and a foremast
man is not very often enlightened by a look at the log of the captain’s
mind.
‘But the king had ordered the ship to go there, and I was a pressed man
on board so I was there too. And there we were three hundred as fine
fellows as you ever set eyes on, or as ever ran up a rattlin, freezing
our fingers and toes every watch, and half the time the ship was shut in
entirely by the ice; and in this way we remained seven or eight days, I
remember, fitted into the ice as close as our carpenter could lay in a
plank, nothing to be seen for miles in any direction but one long
and almost endless field of ice, with once in a while a walrus, or a
sea-horse out of the water and laying sleeping by the small crevices
that were formed here and here in the neighborhood of the ship.
‘Well, one day it came on to blow big guns, and such a cracking and
snapping among the frozen rigging you never listened to; and the water
seemed to be in a perfect rage beneath the ice, as if it did not relish
very well living under hatches. Well, this lasted through one whole
night and day, during which time I thought, we should have chafed all to
pieces; but the captain said that we sat so snugly in the ice, that it
was all that saved us, while I could not but wish that we might have
a little more room, if only to float free of the ice and its cursed
chafin.
‘Well, the next night we were knocked about till daylight, when we found
that the ice had broken up, and that we were going before the gale at a
tremendous rate, and mostly free of ice. On, on, we went, until at last
we approached another field, we could not avoid it, so we sought the
safest place where we might lay the ship to ride out the storm, which
was now in full blast.
‘Well, we got in and anchored to the solid ice and in the course of a
few hours the heft of the storm began to go down, and the sea grew more
quiet, and we were like to have a chance to get some rest for the first
time for more than forty-eight hours, when one of the look-outs from
aloft hailed the deck:
‘“Ship ho!”
‘You may well suppose such a hail thrilled to our very hearts, for we
had not seen a sail save those of our own ship for more than two months;
and the cry from aloft was echoed by every man in the ship, and those
just ready to turn in hurried on deck to get a sight at the stranger,
many but half dressed in their eagerness.
‘Where away?’ demanded the officer of the deck.
‘Just off the larboard quarter, sir,’ said the look-out.
‘All eyes were tinned to the point, and sure enough, there lay about
three miles to leeward of us, a ship apparently fastened in the ice,
and unable to make the least headway. No sails in sight, and her masts
looked more like the branches of a tree than good honest standing
rigging.
‘Our captain set his signals to working as soon as he could, to try to
gain some intelligence from the stranger, but no notice was taken of the
signals, and at length the captain fired a gun or two in order to wake
them up, but there was no answering signal from the stranger, and at
length, the captain, getting out of all patience, ordered a gun to be
shotted and fired into her, if indeed we could reach her where she lay.
‘The gun was discharged, and the iron skipped along the ice, now
throwing a shower of ice in the air, now gliding along smoothly, but
all the while with the speed of light, until it dashed plump into the
stranger’s side, scattering the splinters as it had done the ice before.
All eyes now strained upon the skip, but not a sign of life was evinced
on board of her. No answer was returned either to our shot or the
signals. One or two of the officers thought they could make out the
figure of a man, or rather that part of him which might be seen above
the waist of the ship. But he was motionless, and made no signal, if
indeed he was a man at all.
‘Well, we turned in, and it was determined by the captain to send an
expedition over the ice the next day to the _deaf and dumb_ ship. It was
perilous work, and there was no great anxiety expressed among the men
to undertake it, because, do you see, the ice was liable to separate
and change its position every minute, and there was every chance that
we might be separated from the ship, and perhaps forever. However, the
captain detached about twenty men, among whom he placed me, and sent us
off under the third Luff to see what we could make out of the stranger.
It took us nearly three hours to go the distance to the ship, for we
had a good many large cracks or openings in the ice to go round, but at
length we got near to the ship, when the Luff still seeing no signs of
life, began to suspect that there was some piece of treachery about to
be played upon us, and therefore halted the men, and dividing them
into two parts, resolved to board the stranger on both the larboard and
starboard side at the same time.
‘We boarded her,’ continued Brace, pausing for a moment to roll his quid
to the opposite cheek, as he changed his position.
‘Well, well,’ said several anxious voices at once, ‘what then?’
‘Well, as I was saying, we boarded her starboard and larboard, and what
do you think was the first thing that met our eyes? I’ll tell you. You
see the waist was so deep that we could not see the deck until we got
on board, and the quarter being raised but a little above the deck, that
was hidden too. Well, as we jumped upon deck, there sat the helmsman
at the wheel, stark and stiff, his eyes fixed on vacancy, but his hands
still clasping the tiller. Down in the waist there sat a couple of
seamen upon a coil of rope, hard as marble, and forward, just by the
step of the foremast, crouched a dog as stiff as death. We went up to
them, and handled them, but they were like blocks of marble, _frozen to
death._
‘Down in the captain’s cabin sat him whom the Luff said must have
been the captain. He held a pen in his hand, and by his side stood a
candlestick, the candle burnt out. He had apparently just commenced
to make an entry in the log when overtaken by, and benumbed with the
intense cold. The last date under his pen, and which he seemed to have
made as the last act of his life, was just one year previous to that
very one on which we boarded him!
The log said that the crew had exhausted their fire-wood on board, and
that some parts of the vessel had been already cut up to supply them
with fuel, which we could see fast enough, and that the cold was almost
insufferable, and that at that time the ship was bound by the ice.
We found some of the crew in their berths as stiff and hard as their
companions on deck.
‘All told the fearful story that they had been overtaken by an extreme
degree of cold, which from the various positions and attitudes in which
they were found, hard and rigid, mast have been very sudden. Every thing
on board that ship that had formerly been animate or inanimate, was
struck with the chill, and was more like a rock than a piece of ice, so
firm was everything bound up in frozen chains. It was a horrid sight,
messmates, that ship. I’ve seen some hard things in my day, but the
frozen crew on board that ship in the ice was the worst.’
Thus far Brace had told a true story, melancholy and strange as it
may seem, and he had told it too with a degree of intelligence and in
language that showed him to be a well-informed man for his station in
life in those days. But then he could not let the matter rest here; he
must add what they call at sea and among the crew a ‘clincher’ to his
story, or else it would lack one important ingredient, and would be
hardly considered complete by his messmates. So after taking a turn or
two with his quid of tobacco, he continued his story.
‘Well, messmates, there wasn’t much aboard that we cared for, being as
we were, so far from home; but I thought to myself that I should like
to carry away the dog, just to show the ship’s company when we got back
that what we had said was no gammon, but all true. So I asked the Luff
if I might take away the dog to show the crew, and he gave me leave;
so I shouldered him, and no light load was he either; he was a large,
full-bred Newfoundland, but I carried him all the way to the ship
myself, and when I got him on board he was a matter of no small
curiosity, I can tell you, being a sort of sample of what we had found
on board the stranger.
‘Well, I carried the dog down into our mess below to talk over the thing
that night with the crew, and at last we turned in, after hearing a few
yarns, and lay quiet enough till nearly midnight, when a low, trembling
moan awoke me from sleep.
‘I started up, for it sounded most horribly, and I looked round; but
finding the rest all asleep I thought I had dreamed it, and so laid
down again, but hardly had I done so when it was repeated, and this time
louder than before; I started up up again, but could not tell what had
caused it, until by chance my eyes rested upon the carcass of the dog
which lay just beside the big ship’s coppers where fire was constantly
kept, and messmates, what do you think I saw? I’ll tell you. The
Newfoundland critter was _moving_. I jumped up in less than no time, and
damme if we didn’t have him _thawed out_ so before daylight, that the
captain sent down a middy to stop the noise below decks, the hungry
scamp barked so loud.’
‘Look here, Brace,’ said one, ‘that’s palarver.’
‘No, no,’ said Brace, ‘all true, honor bright, messmates.’
‘Do you mean really to say that that ere dog come to life again?’ asked
another of the crew.
‘To be sure I do: there’s nothing very wonderful in that.’
‘Well,’ added Terrence Moony, ‘you had the consolation of saving _a
fellow crathur’s_ life eny way. Troth, and sich an act is’nt to be
sneezed at, so give us your flipper, messmate.’
‘Your yarn is all very well, Brace,’ said one of his messmates, ‘but
that dog part _is_ rather a _dose_.’
‘Never you mind that,’ said Brace, ‘and now I think of it, Marling, it’s
your turn next.’
‘Yes, yes, it’s your turn next,’ said half a dozen voices at once.
‘For the matter of that I believe you’re all right,’ said Marling good
naturedly, ‘avast there.’
And after rolling his quid about his mouth for a few minutes, and
hesitating for a moment, said:
‘I say, messmates, you must let me off with a song; fact is, I can’t
think of any yarn just now, how will that do?’
‘Oh yes, a song, a song, give us a song,’ they all cried together.
‘Well then, here goes a song to old hoary Neptune.
MARLING’S SONG.
```Ho, ye--ho Messmates, we’ll sing
```The glories of Neptune, the ocean king,
```He reigns o’er the waters, the wide sea’s his home,
```Ho ye--ho, in his kingdom we roam.=
```He spreads a blue carpet all over the sea,
```O’er which our bark walks daintily--
```Though down at the bottom the old monarch hails,
```He blows the fresh wind plump into our sails.=
```Landsmen who live on the dull, tame shore,
```Love their homes, but ours we love more:
```Oh! a ship and salt water, messmates, for me--
```There’s nothing on earth like the open sea.=
```Landsmen are green boys, I have a notion
```They don’t know the fun that’s had on the ocean;
```But contented they live in one spot all their lives,
```Like honey bees, messmates, they stick to their hives.=
```What though we have storms? They’ve earthquakes on shore,
```And though we have troubles, they surely have more;
```We gather rare food ‘mong the isles of the sea.
```When the tropical fruit grows, there boys, are we.=
```Ah! give us the ocean; nought but the sea
```Is a fit home, messmates, for hearts that are free.
```=Ho, boys ho! then let us all sing
```To the glory of Neptune, the ocean’s king.=
This song being original with Marling, and sang to a popular air of
the day, was hailed with great applause by his comrades to whom he
was obliged to sing it again and again before they would be satisfied.
Terrence Moony swore ‘by the powers of mud that it bate everything
intirely.’
‘And did you make all that up yerself?’ asked Terrence.
‘It’s mine, such as it is, Terrence, my boy.’
‘Thin you’re a gintilman intirely, for is’nt it thim as bees the authors
of poetry? Arrah, and hav’nt we a gintilmen in our mess?’
But to the reader, let Marling’s verses show that the forecastle is not
entirely devoid of taste, and that many a hardy son of the ocean carries
within him a fund of wit, aye, and genius too, that only needs the
occasion to call it forth.
As if by common consent, all now turned upon Terrence Moony and charged
him with the heinous offence of not having spun one yarn since the
commencement of the voyage. Terrence had no faculty for story telling,
and therefore rather fidgeted under the sallies and jokes of his
messmates. But at length his eyes brightened up, and his features were
really handsome with the look of intelligence and enthasiasm that lit
them up as he said: ‘I hav’nt any turn that way you see, friends, but
there’s a bit of a circumstance happinid to meself not long ago, I’ll
tell yes.’
And Terrence related in his own peculiar way, the kindness that Capt.
Channing had shown his dying mother. He had never mentioned thus in
detail before, though his messmates knew that the captain had once
served Terrence by some needed charity. You should have seen the tears
start from the eyes of those rough sea-dogs as Terrence told his tale
with a feeling that could not be mistaken. It showed that the forecastle
covered up as truly kind and sensitive hearts as did the quarter-deck.
There was no open applause after Terrence’s tale, but it produced its
effect, and one or two rough but honest slaps upon the shoulder showed
him that the mess wished him to understand that he was altogether a
particularly clever fellow, these very blows being designed to express
the indelible character of their regard.
As to Captain Channing, there was a vote taken on the spot that there
never was such another, though it hardly needed this fresh proof of
goodness in their commander to incite them to such a declaration,
inasmuch as they had long entertained this feeling toward him; and they
might well do so, for their every comfort was cared for, and their good
constantly considered by him who commanded them. How easy a matter it is
to gain the affection and regard of those dependant upon us, by treating
them as we ourselves would wish to be treated in a like situation. There
is a golden rule touching this point.
I do not know why it is, but it is a well known fact, that sailors are
notorious for story-telling, or as they term it, for spinning yarns.
They are driven to it in part for recreation, as there is no duty so
monotonous than that of a foremast man aboard ship. Confined within the
narrow limits of the vessel, he sees but few faces and those perhaps
he is associated with for months, without once landing. Thus the
inhabitants of the forecastle, seldom possessing books, are thrown much
upon their own resources for amusement during such time as they may find
their own. Story-telling is a very natural as well as fascinating mode
of amusement; and this they universally adopt, on all occasions. I have
sometimes heard landsmen remark that the nicely told stories put in
print as coming from seamen while spinning a yarn to their messmates,
were all moonshine; that foremast men could not talk like that. This
is a mistake--the constant habit renders them very perfect, and I have
listened through a whole watch to as well a told story from one of the
crew of a merchantship, as I have ever read; told too with a degree of
refinement entirely unlooked for. Thus the crew of the Constance were
now engaged, and we cannot refrain from transcribing one more yarn that
was spun in the forecastle on this occasion. The song seemed to have
inspired them all, and they were vociferous, among themselves for
another yarn immediately.
‘Come, Jennings, it’s your turn, there’s no mistake about that,’ said
two or three of the men to one of their companions, sitting by the
chest.
‘Ay, ay, messmates, wait a bit till I overhaul my reckoning.’
‘That’s it, a yarn from Jennings, a yarn from Jennings!’ they all cried.
Jennings was a real specimen of a yankee; tall, muscular, and good
looking, with a large degree of intelligence shining from his features.
Like his race, generally, he was up to making money, and the high offer
of the British captain in the way of wages had tempted his cupidity
so far, as to induce him to ship for what he believed to be a simple
trading voyage to the West Indies.
‘Well messmates, you have been talking about the salt sea; I’m going
to spin you a yarn about the land, that will be a new wrinkle, so here
goes. But let me just tell you at the beginning that it’s no _dog_
story, but a matter of fact.
‘Most of you come from the same parts as myself, but I don’t think you
have heard this story, being’s it occurred many miles back to the west
end of the town of Boston, and near by where I was born. You see I
was born on the Hadley flats in Massachusetts, just by a bend of the
Connecticut, though I soon came to the sea-side after I got to be old
enough to leave home, and soon took a fancy to the ocean, which I have
followed ever since. I wasn’t so young when I left home, but that I
remember the only spot in all the earth where I want to lay my hulk
after the cruise of life is up, it is the neighborhood of the green
meadows, and the curving bends of the Connecticut, which runs smoothly
over the very foot of Mount Tom and Mount Holyoke. It was not far from
this spot that I was born. Just above us and near to the base of
these two highest mountains in the state, there lived a tribe of
Indians--friends of the settlers, and with whom they associated like
brothers.
‘I have wandered, when a boy, among their lodges--have climbed up the
steep paths of the mountains, and strolled among the groves and fields
that skirt the banks of the river, and, messmates, I have sometimes
wondered in my dreams, if we can be happier in heaven than I was then,
and if paradise can be a milder or more desirable place than that.
‘Well, messmates, you see it’s a story about this tribe of Indians that
I’m going to tell you about, or rather about one of them. The old Chief
of the tribe had two children only, both girls, and as clean-limbed and
pretty as a roe-buck from the hills; they were the pride of the old mans
heart, and, indeed, of the whole tribe.
‘The oldest one was called Kelmond, which meant, in their dialect, ‘The
Mountain Child’ They called her so because she was born in one of their
lodges on the side of that eminence, Holyoke, which looks down upon the
valley of the Connecticut, as you could, messmates, upon the deck of the
brig, when yer up at the top-mast head. Her sister was called Komeoke,
which means in their language, ‘The Fair’ They always name their women
in this way, with some soft and pretty-like name.
‘Well, the oldest was the prettiest and the gentlest creature you ever
saw, and there wasn’t a warrior in the whole tribe who would not have
had her for his wife, if he could have got her. But somehow or other,
she loved to pass her days in the woods tying wild flowers and lying by
the bright clear brooks that spring up in thousands on the hill-sides
and in the groves, and she never listened: to any of them wild love
songs and tokens of affection.
‘Her sister was a very pretty girl, and if one hadn’t seen the eldest,
he truly might have thought the youngest one the prettiest creature he
had ever seen, though her sort of beauty was altogether of a different
kind. She was all, every inch, Indian, bold, fearless, and more like
a man than a female. They loved each other with all the fervor of
affection that their girlish hearts could feel, even though their
dispositions were so very different.
‘In our village, if I may so call the dozen houses that made up the
place; around the block house, there was stopping a young Englishman who
had come there with his gun and hounds and a single servant man, for the
purpose of hunting for mere sport. He was a fine, handsome looking man,
belonging to some great family in England, and was about twenty-two
years old. He hadn’t been with us but a few weeks, before, in some
of his wanderings he met with Kelmond, the oldest of the chiefs two
handsome children. I don’t think there ever was a man who had a better
way of making himself agreeable, messmates, a sort of winning way, just
like our captain. I mean a sort of faculty of getting everybody’s good
graces. Well, he wasn’t long in making himself acquainted with the
beautiful Indian girl, and they used often to meet by themselves in the
woods, and the Englishman won her heart completely. The way I found
it out was by following him one day to see where he could go to so
regularly every day, and I soon understood the scent. Well, it was
plain that for some reason that he didn’t want any one to knew about
the business, so when I hinted about it, do you see, he told me to say
nothing about the thing, and gave me a dollar to keep mum, while he
still went regularly every day to the place where they met and sat for
hours together.
‘I don’t know anything about the stories he used to tell the girl,
or what he promised her, but the rascal deceived her, I know so much.
Randolph, that was the Englishman’s name, had lived in great cities,
where there is all kinds of vice and evil practised, as you and I know,
messmates, perhaps he didn’t think the thing so much of a crime as some
others would look upon it; but that’s no matter, he betrayed her and
forsook her soon afterwards, and I was not long in discovering this,
for though I was a boy, I knew some things that the Englishman thought
I didn’t, and when I saw that he began to leave the clearing by a
different path, I understood the whole affair and told him so in secret;
he offered me money, but I refused it, and told him that an Indian never
forgave an injury, and that he would have to suffer for it. I told him
that if she did not revenge herself, there were an hundred knives that
would do it for her, aye, and find him, hide where he would. But you
see, he didn’t mind me at all, and still staid thereabouts.
‘Well, time passed on, and one day I was out with my gun for some game
and happened to be very near the place where Randolph and Kelmond used
to meet, and coming up to it suddenly, I found the Indian girl upon the
spot, and crying as I had never seen an Indian before, for they’re a
stern race, you know, messmates; well, I could not but offer her all the
consolation I knew how to do, and, you see, she knew where I came
from, and so asked me about Randolph’s health, and the like, but never
reproached him for all his deception, not a word. ‘Twould have made
you blubber right out to have seen that poor, brokenhearted girl asking
after him who had betrayed her, with all the warmth of an affection that
could never die. There’s something queer, messmates, about a woman’s
love; I never sailed much in those latitudes, but I’ve seen those
that have, and I can say, on my own account, that I never could find
soundings myself, throw the lead as often as I would. So it was with
this beautiful Indian girl; her heart was still the same towards him who
had rendered her cruise for life one of perfect misery.
‘Well, from that hour the wild flower of the mountains withered and
faded like a broken reed, until the suspicion of her sister Komeoke was
aroused, and she at length told her all her misery. She heard it without
a word of revenge, and did all her kind heart could suggest, to make her
dear sister as comfortable as she might. Well, a few days from the
time she told her secret to her sister, the poor, beautiful, but
broken-hearted girl, like a ship without a compass, messmates, lost
her mind, they say; at any rate she climbed to the very highest part of
Holyoke, where a long, sharp rock extends out from the hill-side, and
looks off towards the valley, and threw herself off from the immense
height upon the rocks and stones below. Her father found her body the
next day all mangled and torn to pieces. Her sister, too, looked upon
her dead body, and then uttered the deep, horrid curse of her tribe upon
him who had caused this ruin. She did not shed a single tear, so a red
warrior told me afterwards, but her spirit was awake--she was aroused
and the Indian blood was at work in her veins.
‘Before another sun had gone down, messmates, Randolph fell near the
door of the house where he stopped, pierced to the heart by a poisoned
arrow, and a few moments after, the sister of Kelmond sought his side
and told him, why that arrow was sent--told him that he would appear
before the Indian’s God with Kelmond, that he would be banished into
the dirty, muggy swamps that evil ones inhabit, while the good were
roving the happy hunting grounds of the blessed. Well, messmates,
Randolph died of that fatal wound, and I, for one, am free to say he
did not deserve to live. The sister was revenged, and Komeoke became the
wife of a great brave.
‘’Twas soon after this that I left the neighborhood, and came to Boston
and shipped to sea; but I have seen people from the settlement who say
that the story didn’t end here, for that on any clear moonlight night
the form of the Indian girl is seen at midnight upon that lofty rock,
that many and often are the sacrifices made by the tribe for her spirit,
but still it appears nightly on the rock.
‘There, messmates, is my true yarn about the Indian Maiden of Holyoke.’
Fortune is a fickle goddess, and she now threatened to desert Fanny in
the greatest need. The little fleet was fast approaching the shores of
Cape Cod when the look-out shouted the usual announcement of a vessel in
sight. All on board the Constance, as well as the prizes, the barque
and the ship, knew the precarious nature of their present situation,
for they were now coming upon a coast that literally swarmed with the
cruisers of the enemy. Every precaution had been taken that prudence
could suggest to strengthen the little armament, but eight fighting men
to a vessel, be she ever so well armed, could not avail much against
a regular man-of-war of the smallest class with her full complement of
men. This they knew full well, and no effort that ingenuity could devise
was left untried to render every thing available that might favor them
in case of attack. The arms were all double loaded, and every thing
that vigilance could do was done. At the cry we have announced, from the
look-out, every one was on the alert. It was morning, and the wind being
fresh and fair, all had hoped to anchor that night in the quiet little
harbor of Lynn, where the crew had ascertained that the captain would
drop his land tackle. It was a clear, cold day, and the chill winds of
northern winter were doubly felt by those on board the Constance, and
the prizes who had so lately left the milder latitudes of the South.
The strange sail proved to be a brig of about the same tonnage as the
Constance, and evidently a vessel in the commission of the king, wearing
the British ensign at the gaff. She stood boldly for the Constance, whom
her people appeared to have discovered at about the same time that she
was seen by the Americans, and soon fired a gun of defiance. Lovell,
seeing the impending danger, sheered up to within hailing distance of
the brig, when Fanny ordered him and also Herbert to separate from
each other, but to stand in for their port without noticing the king’s
vessel, saying that it was of no use to risk the loss of their prizes,
and that she would get out of the trouble in some way, or at any rate
draw off the attention of the enemy from the barque until they should
escape.
Lovell was in dilemma,--he did not dare to disobey order’s for example’s
sake, nor even to question the propriety of the order for a single
moment, and there was no course left him but to obey it, which he did
with great reluctance, and yet with a full confidence that Fanny would
manage all for the best.
The barque and ship therefore stood on their course for port, while
Fanny ordering the helm up, put the brig before the wind with the
hope of outsailing the cruiser. The enemy had already got within such
distance as to render her strength manifest, and also to show her
clearly what her enemy was. The brig proved to be the Dolphin, of
twelve guns and about fifty men. She was short of her full complement,
having detailed a number of her men by order of the admiral, for one of
the larger ships upon the station.
The captain of the Dolphin, seeing the vessels separated, saw that he
must select one as a mark for his ambition, and that he could not get
the three in such a position as to render their capture a matter of
probability. Some little time was lost in making selection, but at last
he decided that the Constance was the most worthy of his honors, and so
gave her chase forthwith.
One of the most exciting things that can well be conceived of, is a
chase at sea. The mariner never fails to wish for more wind, forgetting
apparently that the same force that propels his own vessel, also aids
that of his enemy; and when the two vessels are of about the same
tonnage, their increase of speed as it regards the force of the wind,
must be nearly, if not exactly in the same ratio. There was a very fresh
breeze blowing at the time, and yet Fanny did not cease to wish for
more.
The two vessels had thus tested their sailing qualities for nearly three
hours, when it was plainly manifest that the enemy being better able
to handle his sails with promptness, had far the advantage of the
Constance, and that he was fast gaining upon her. The breeze had
increased to a hard blow, and Fanny had been obliged to furl sail after
sail until the brig was now leaping forwardlike an arrow, before the
wind, under close reefed topsails, jib, and mainsail, while the Dolphin,
being able to shorten sail at any moment, was more venturesome, and sail
held on, and thus came up hand over hand with the Constance.
It was now evident that there was no escape, or at least without
fighting first, and Fanny determined she would do so, although she
had but eight men to oppose to fifty. The sea now ran so high that
fortunately it rendered boarding a matter entirely out of the question.
Fanny’s quick wit understood this full well, and she hoped that it might
possibly prove to be her safety by enabling her to fight at a distance,
where her eight men could work to some advantage over the heavy gun
amidships.
The wind blew a gale, and the Constance was now flying over the sea with
only a double reefed topsail to steady her course and give her steerage.
The Dolphin came on at a scarcely less fearful speed, and running under
almost bare poles; but finding that his enemy was now increasing his
distance, the captain of the Dolphin shook out a reef from his only sail
that was spread, and soon gained again on the Constance. Fanny was
not long in ascertaining that the advantage she had possessed over
her former enemies was equally the case on the present occasion; for
although the Dolphin carried twelve guns, yet none of them were of equal
calibre to the Constance’s gun amidships, and at the present distance
were actually of no use at all.
It was a fearful sight to see those two vessels dashing on through the
boisterous and tempestuous ocean, regardless of the warring elements,
and apparently only intent upon the destruction of each other. Almost
any other officer in his majesty’s service would have sought rather to
look to the safety of his own vessel in such a tempest as now reigned;
but the captain of the Dolphin was one who did not give up an object
so lightly. He prided himself on his seamanship, and while he made
everything snug, yet he kept an eye upon the chase, determined not to
lose sight of her, if possible to avoid it. At intervals, as an aim
might be had, the Dolphin kept up a fire upon the Constance, but with
little or no effect, while the crew of the American brig fired only
at such times as they were pretty sure of their aim, and thus they had
already done fearful execution upon the hull and rigging of the Dolphin.
It required two men at the helm of the Constance, thus leaving Fanny
but six of the crew to manage the vessel, and serve the gun amidship. In
this dilemma, Fanny felt severely the want of more men, and had herself
been laboring at all light matters about the deck for some time. At
this moment in which the fact was forcing itself strongly upon her mind,
there appeared upon deck the burly form of the pardoned Englishman, who
had been permitted to go below by his own request, that he might not
take part against his own countrymen.
‘Captain Channing,’ said he, ‘I cannot fight against my king, but if
you will order these two men away from the wheel, I will serve you
faithfully.’
This was an important station, and Fanny accepted the generous offer
with thanks, from the man whose life she had so lately saved, and he
assumed the station assigned him, obeying implicitly the wishes of
Fanny. This was no slight aid to her, and leaving the management of the
helm to him, she oversaw the management of the piece herself.
If Lovell could have seen her there, with that noble scorn of danger
beaming from her face as she watched the rise and swell of the sea to
get an aim at the Dolphin, and applying the match with her own hands; if
he had seen her then, her head bared to the raging elements, yet coolly
giving her orders to men, he would have thought her inspired from
Heaven. The long tom under the management of the crew of the Constance
had already done fatal execution on board the enemy; by singular good
fortune scarcely a shot was thrown away, and this fearful accuracy
astonished even the Captain of the Dolphin who though he kept up a
constant firing, yet did but little injury to the chase in the distance
at which they were from each other.
‘Now’ do I wish I had a score of men on board her, Brace,’ said Fanny
to him who was now her mate, ‘in order that we might take yonder brig; we
could do it, sir, if she would but hold on for us till the storm should
abate, if we had that number of men,’ and Fanny’s eyes sparkled at the
thought of ‘another prize’.
‘He don’t like this gun, sir, for see, Captain Channing, he’s sheering
off as far as he dares to with the wind and storm from the North West.’
‘True--hard-a-port,sir,’ said Fanny to her faithful helmsman, ‘we are
just at the right distance for our convenience and must keep it, Mr.
Brace.’
‘So it strikes me, sir,’ said the mate pointing the gun.
Thus the Constance actually began to assume the position of pursuer,
while the Dolphin was endeavoring to get out of the reach of the
destructive long tom. Fanny realty began to feel the pride of a victor,
notwithstanding the dangers that still surrounded the fearful raging of
the storm.
Let us see what passed on board the Dolphin.
‘Mr. Millman,’ said the commander of the king’s vessel to his second
officer, ‘keep her away a point or two; that cursed single gun of the
rebel will sink us if we don’t get out of its reach. A little more, sir,
steady, so, she’ll bear that--keep her so--that’s well.’
‘Three of my best men killed, and a dozen in the surgeon’s hands by
these damned splinters and iron shot,’ mused the captain half aloud,
‘who could have foretold all this? Halloa, there, who’s hurt now?’ said
the captain to an officer who approached to report the effect of
the last shot from the Constance which had struck the Dolphin just
amidships.
‘A couple of the best berths are emptied for the cruise, sir, and
there’s a trough across the main deck two inches deep, all by a single
ball!’
This was the second shot that had been reported to him; five of his best
men gone, and the surgeon’s ward filled with the wounded.
‘The devil take this pirate of a rebel,’ said the commander of the
Dolphin; ‘who ever knew shot to take-effect this way with such a sea on,
and in such a cursed tempest?’
‘Keep her away another point, Mr. Millman,’ said the captain to his
second. ‘The rascal will murder the whole crew at this rate, and I not
able to strike a single blow.’
‘I’m afraid she wont bear another point, sir,’ ventured the Lieutenant;
‘she strains fearfully as it is, sir.’
‘Then keep her as she is, sir, if you can,’ growled the captain, ‘and
the d------d rascal don’t sink us before the night sets in.’
There was indeed a fearful accuracy to the shot from the Constance, and
there was that singular good luck (if we may call that good luck which
sacrifices human life) attending every discharge that sometimes follows
the throws of a gambler, who for a time seems sure of every game and
high numbers--thus was it from the shot from the American brig. Nearly
every one told with fearful accuracy upon the deck of that Dolphin. It
looked almost like a miracle that gunnery could be so accurate in such a
sea, but so it was, and fatally so.
The captain of the Dolphin foamed and raged like the very tempest about
him at this unaccountable state of things, until at length he walked up
to Mr. Millman who was at the helm, and said: ‘Mr. Millman, we must pull
down that article,’ pointing to the English flag that was flapping and
cracking like the report of a pistol, at the main; ‘the brig already
leaks from one of those cursed shot. And besides in such a storm.’
‘_Strike_, sir?’ asked the Lieutenant in astonishment.
‘For a while only.’
‘Ah! I see, sir; a ruse, that is all, I suppose.’
‘Mr. Millman,’ continued the captain, ‘they can’t board, would to God
they might try that,’ said he, clenching his fist.
‘The night will soon set in, sir.’
‘True, we can take our own course then.’
The necessary orders were given, and the proud flag of old England was
again humbly lowered to the simple pine tree,-which still floated from
the main of the Constance, she ceased her fire, and all the care of her
crew was devoted to keeping the brig safe till the storm should abate.
Intense darkness soon shut victor and prize from each other’s sight,
while the storm still raged its wild fury until nearly morning, when it
gradually subsided. The morning broke clear and cold, and Fanny could
see her late antagonist some three miles to windward of the Constance,
and at that distance she could easily see the crippled condition of her
spars.
‘Did he know,’ said she to Mr. Brace, ‘that he would find but about half
a dozen men to contend with, we should yet have him down upon us seeking
for close quarters; but I think he has had quite enough of us and that
iron piece amidships there, will make him keep well away, if he can.’
This was hardly said on board the brig, when the yards of the Dolphin
were squared, her sails all set, and in a few minutes she was cutting
the water swiftly towards where the Constance lay.
‘Ah! Mr. Brace, the enemy are coming down lor another brush,’ said
Fanny, ‘and there goes St. George’s flag again, or I’ve not got my eyes;
the fellow has seen with his glass how weak we are on board here.’
‘True, sir, the fellow is in earnest this time, and we shall soon
have him at close quarters. It will be all up with us then, Captain
Channing.’
‘Step down and superintend that gun, Mr. Breed; we will keep him off as
long as possible, sir.’
All sail was also crowded upon the Constance to endeavor to escape the
dreaded close quarters, which must render the victory certain to the
enemy. She skipped lightly off under the influence of the fresh breeze,
and her enemy gained but slowly upon her, while the long tom was again
doing execution upon the Dolphin’s deck. Ill fared it now with the
short-handed crew of the Constance, who were not able properly to
trim their own sails to take advantage of the wind; and though Fanny
endeavored to cut up the rigging of her enemy and thus retard his speed,
yet the long tom, singular enough, that had done such wonderful deeds
during the storm, now that it was comparatively calm proved far less
efficient, though as we have said, the shot did do some execution upon
the Dolphin’s deck. Soon the shot from the enemy’s smaller metal, began
to tell upon the Constance’s rigging, and her sailing was consequently
much retarded, while the Dolphin fast neared her.
‘Mr. Brace,’ said Fanny, calling the mate to her, ‘we shall soon be at
close quarters with the enemy. Now I have no idea of giving up the brig
even to the large number we have to contend with yonder, without selling
our right and title at a handsome advance on the cost.’
‘I’m ready and willing, sir, to do all a pair of hands can do,’ said the
willing mate.
‘I know it, sir,’ was the reply. ‘I have a plan by which we shall be
enabled to diminish the number of our enemies, at least, if not to rid
ourselves entirely of them--possibly we may drive them off by it if it
should succeed completely.’
‘What will you have done, sir.’
‘Have these six carronades all brought aft just here at the rise of the
quarter deck, range them in a line pointing forward, so that they shall
completely sweep the deck.
‘Load them with slugs and bullets, and with a couple of small shot in
each, and be sure they are well charged; load them to the muzzle, sir.
Hang across the deck just in front of them a large strip of canvass that
shall hide them completely from sight; be sure that you rig it so that
it can be dropped at a moment’s warning, be careful, sir.’
‘I understand, sir,’ said Mr. Brace.
‘Be lively now, there’s not a minute to lose.’
‘Ay, ay, sir.’
While this order was executing, the Dolphin fast neared the Constance,
everything she could make draw in her crippled state being well managed;
and Fanny could see by the course her captain was steering that he
intended to lay the vessels along side, yard arm. This spurred her on to
the execution of her plan, and she called out to the mate; ‘All ready
there, Mr. Brace?’
‘Ay, ay, sir.’
The course of the Constance was altered, and tacking boldly she stood
directly for the Dolphin, until she fouled on her starboard quarter,
running her bowsprit across the enemy’s deck. In a moment the captain
of the king’s vessel was seen boarding the Constance by the bowsprit,
followed by nearly two score of his crew, armed with boarding pikes and
cutlasses. As soon as the two vessels had become entangled together,
Fanny sprang down behind the canvass that had just been erected, and
where the small crew of the brig were already gathered, and hidden from
the enemy.
The captain and crew of the Dolphin sprang at once on to the forecastle
of the Constance, but there they paused, for there was no visible enemy
to contend with, and fearing some secret attack, they gathered closely
together, as if for greater security, but thus unwittingly heightening
their own danger.
At a word from Fanny, while they were in this position, the canvass
sheet was dropped and the matches were applied to the six cannon at the
same moment! The havoc was tremendous! At least two thirds of the enemy
who had boarded the brig were killed on the spot, while of the rest
scarcely one remained without a wound. The one taking discharge from the
six cannon loaded to the muzzle with powder and shot made most fearful
havoc, indeed! Such of the enemy as could keep their feet, seeing so
many of their comrades dead and dying about them, rushed precipitately
back to the deck of their own vessel, but observing the weakness of the
Constance’s crew, renewed the attack and carried the deck in a hand to
hand contest.
Fanny’s pistol had taken the life of one of the enemy, and the other was
presented to the breast of the Captain of the Dolphin, whose sword was
also upraised to strike her, when both paused in astonishment, gazing at
one another. Fanny’s arm which held the pistol sunk by her side, and the
sword of her enemy fell harmless! ‘Fanny Campbell!’
‘Captain Burnet!’
Exclaimed each, uttering the other’s name.
The astonishment of both was complete.--Fanny’s presence of mind did not
for a moment desert her, but approaching the Captain of the Dolphin, she
said:
‘For Heaven’s sake, do not recognize me as a female.’
‘But can I believe my eyes?’ asked Burnet in astonishment.
‘They need not deceive you,’ said Fanny.
‘And are you captain here,’ he asked.
‘I was until you came on board,’ said Fanny gallantly giving up her
sword to the victor.
‘But--but--’ said Burnet, hesitating.
‘I will explain all when we are alone,’ said Fanny.
She was conducted to the private cabin of Captain Burnet, and a prize
crew of four only, placed in the Constance, while the prisoners were all
released, and most of them taken on board the Dolphin. These prisoners,
from the necessary severity of their confinement, were unable to work,
and indeed scarcely able to walk. Thus the four men placed on board the
Constance, with two of the prisoners who were found to be able to work,
under the charge of the mate of the Dolphin, formed all the crew that
could be spared. Burnet could not afford a larger number, for his late
encounter had cost him more than two thirds of his whole complement of
men. He had but ten seamen left to work his own vessel, and as they were
so near to port he doubted not that the brig would be easily worked into
harbor. He therefore made sail and left her to follow him to Boston.
Scarcely had the Dolphin dropped her prize so far astern as to fairly
lose sight of her, before the bark and ship, having changed their course
and returned to see how the Constance had rode out the storm, hove in
sight. They were not long in ascertaining the state of affairs, and in
making themselves masters of the brig again! Lovell learned the details
of the whole affair from the Englishman whom Fanny had pardoned. The
evidence of the dreadful slaughter upon the Constance’s forecastle
was still visible, and was viewed with feelings of no slight degree of
interest by Lovell and Herbert.--The former feared much for Fanny, and
indeed was half crazed with regret; but there was no other course for
them to take but to steer their course for Lynn harbor, which all three
of the vessels did, Lovell and Herbert having heavy hearts within them
for victors to carry; and the former would gladly have relinguished all
to have clasped Fanny again safely in his arms.
Thus was the thread of our eventful tale spun on the wide waters at sea,
while on land and in the little hamlet of High Bock, Lynn, the friends
and relations of Fanny Campbell, except her parents, had never ceased
to speculate and wonder as to the true cause of her absence. Her parents
maintaining a profound secrecy upon the subject, threw a stronger
degree of mystery about the matter, that kept the good old women and
the gossips generally of the village in fidgets. Indeed, Mr. and Mrs.
Campbell themselves did not hesitate to express a feeling of fear and
dread lest some ill had befallen her, yet pretending that they really
did not know where she had gone, for this was the express wish of Fanny
and the promise gained from her parents that they would not reveal her
secret was religiously kept when she left her home. One or two knowing
the fact of William Lovell’s imprisonment, had shrewdly surmised that
her absence related in some way to the affair; but in what particular
way, no one knew.
‘I have daily forebodings that poor Fanny will never see her home
again,’ said her mother to her consort one evening when both sat quietly
with the bible open before them, and from whence they had as usual been
reading aloud,’ previous to retiring to rest for the night.
‘Let us trust in Heaven, wife, it’s a holy cause she is engaged in, but
I too have my fears for her safety.’
‘Poor child, she did not even tell us how she was to make the voyage,’
said the mother,--‘unprotected though of course.’
‘Well wife, I would trust Fanny where I wouldn’t like to an elder
and more experienced head. She’s a strange girl, and beside her book
knowledge, has a good idea of common things. I have great faith in her
judgment, or I should never have consented for her to leave us, although
she was so urgent and determined about the matter.’
‘Heaven protect her!’ ejaculated the mother, with uplifted eyes.
‘Amen,’ added the father fervently.
‘It would be a romantic story if she should succeed,’ said the mother,
her countenance brightening up with fresh hope, not that there was the
least reason in it save, her own thoughts.
‘Ay, as good a plot as the Bay Province ever furnished for a novel, even
in the old Indian times,’ said the father.
‘It is two months since she left us,’ said the mother.
‘Yes, and before the expiration of another week, we may possibly hope to
hear from her at least.’
‘She set the time for her return at three months, I remember.’
‘Which will be a short time after all,’ continued the father, ‘even had
she a vessel solely at her command. But you see, she must pass some time
on the island at any rate, and then whether she proves successful or
otherwise, she must wait for some vessel bound to Boston from that port.
‘There are many chances against her,’ sighed the old man seriously, as
he raked the coals together on the hearth.
‘Oh! it was a wild undertaking,’ said Fanny’s mother, as much dejected
now as she was a few moments before elated, and for just as good a
reason as before stated and no other.
‘That remains to be seen, wife.’
‘You say this to comfort me who feel so timid--that’s all, Henry.’
‘I don’t know,’ said the husband seriously and partly to himself, ‘but I
still have great faith in Fanny.’
‘Heaven grant it true faith.’
‘Amen,’ again said the father.
And after the usual prayer to the throne of grace, in which Fanny’s name
was often and fervently mentioned, the good old couple retired to their
humble cot to rest after their day’s labor, and were soon wrapped in
the quiet and refreshing sleep that industry and frugality ensure to the
humble.