THE ATTACK.
The noise of the conflict on deck, for conflict it surely was, had
aroused Abraham at about the same moment I was brought to a realization
that there was trouble afoot, and he stood staring stupidly around, not
having shaken off the unconsciousness of slumber when I ran against him
in my haste.
“What is it?” Sam asked, suddenly rising in his bunk, and I replied
while grouping around in the darkness for something which would serve
as a weapon:
“There’s trouble on deck, an’ no time to be lost here talkin’ about it.”
The first object with which my hand came in contact was the unloaded
musket that had been laid on top of the stores so it might not come to
harm, and with this held by the muzzle, in order to use it as a club, I
ran out of the cuddy, finding it difficult for an instant to understand
what was going on. It seemed to me as if the deck and cockpit of the
sloop were thronged with people, all of whom appeared to be fighting
desperately, and, at the same time, as nearly in silence as was
possible.
I could distinguish no face; make out no familiar form for several
seconds, and as I stood there with the musket half-upraised, Sam
pushed past me into the very thick of the gathering.
Quicker witted than I, the lad had understood in an instant what should
be done, and went as if led by instinct to the spot where he was most
needed.
I saw him pick up from the deck as he ran what appeared to be a
capstan-bar belonging to some large vessel, and swinging this about his
head even as I stood there gazing about stupidly, he brought it down
upon the skull of a fellow who, with a naked knife between his teeth,
was at that instant coming over the rail to add to the press of numbers
which had already seemingly taken possession of our vessel.
Then it was that I became able to distinguish the different forms in
the darkness, and saw that from two boats alongside men were making an
attempt to gain a foothold on the Swiftsure’s deck, although there was
no further room for a single one.
[Illustration: “MEN WERE MAKING AN ATTEMPT TO GAIN A FOOTHOLD ON THE
SWIFTSURE’S DECK.”]
Then I made out the figures of Abel and Sam standing back to back, the
first using the tiller as a weapon, and the other fighting, back with
bare knuckles two ruffians who were close upon him with knives.
By this time I had gathered myself sufficiently to be able to render
some service, and brought down the butt of the musket upon one
scoundrel’s head with such force that I could count on his being out of
the battle many hours to come, if not forever.
The one thought in my mind was that the British had taken our people in
Brooklyn by surprise, and this intended capture of the sloop was but a
portion of their plan of action. There was fierce delight in my heart
at the idea of thus being able to strike a blow against the red-coats,
when it had seemed as if the orders given by Lieutenant Winterbottom
ruled us out of any honorable share of the work.
After this it would be impossible for me to set down of my own
knowledge all that occurred during the next ten or fifteen minutes, for
I knew little else save the fact that I was straining every nerve and
muscle to beat back those who had already boarded the sloop, and at the
same time prevent others from taking their places.
We were beset on either side and from the bow, showing that no less
than three boat-loads of scoundrels had come to overpower our crew of
five, and this in itself was sufficient to lend me fictitious strength,
at the same time that it took away in a measure all sense of pain, or
of fear, when I was struck, as frequently happened, heavy blows upon
the body which had missed my head.
And during all this time our enemy had fought silently; but it did not
occur to me as strange until the thought came that they feared to make
a noise lest our friends on shore should hear and come to the rescue,
and yet, if it was a party of British whom we were opposing, how could
they have put off while we were at anchor without first having overcome
those Americans who were stationed near the ferry-way?
I made no outcry, simply because it did not occur to me that it would
be of any avail to raise my voice, so firmly was it fixed in my mind
that we were entirely cut off from our friends.
There was little time to speculate upon anything of this kind. That
which I have set down ran through my mind rather as the lightning
flashes through black clouds, and is gone on the instant.
During every moment I was obliged to exert all my skill and strength
to save my life, for these fellows who had come aboard were bent on
killing, and that seemed their first purpose, even though the capture
of the sloop might be the secondary reason for the attack.
Once I beat off with the butt of the musket a man who had a knife so
near my heart that the skin was cut ever so slightly, and yet until
the battle was over I had no idea the weapon had even penetrated my
clothing.
At almost the same moment another member of the gang came lurching
forward as if bent only on my downfall, and as I wheeled to receive
him, swinging the gun sideways because there was no time to raise it
above my head, I saw before me the villainous face of Luther Stedman.
Then did I understand in a twinkling the meaning of the attack, of
the silence which had been preserved throughout the fight, and of the
eagerness to put an end to us; but I did not realize at that moment why
he had brought so many for so slight a task.
As our eyes met I believed the fellow had been searching for me,
although one would not have supposed that, on so small a field as the
deck of the Swiftsure, he would have been forced to hunt about many
seconds. I saw, even amid the gloom, an expression of satisfaction come
over his face, and I clutched the musket yet more firmly, supposing he
was about to attack me.
He proved himself to be the veriest cur, however, for instead of
tackling me himself, and we were about evenly matched in respect to
weight and height, the cowardly Tory backed to the starboard rail,
where he called for some of his following who yet remained in one of
the boats alongside, to come aboard that he might show them the one who
was to be especially cared for.
It seemed therefore that I was the one member of the sloop’s crew
Luther Stedman was particularly looking for, and I did not need to be
told that if he ever again succeeded in getting me in his power, I
would suffer to the full extent of his ability because of having twice
got the better of him or his plans. Even at the moment when all was
turmoil, and those whom Luther had summoned were coming in over the
rail to attack me, I asked myself for the second time how it was he had
succeeded in regaining his liberty when common prudence demanded that
he be held in custody, at least during such time as we Minute Boys were
spying upon the British fleet.
As Luther’s hirelings rushed upon me, I yelled, not in the hope of
attracting assistance, for I had no idea any were near who would
lend us a hand, but to warn my comrades that the Tory was one of the
assailants, and it was as if in a twinkling my cries changed the tide
of battle.
Seth Hartley came up with an answering shout, swinging a paddle which
he must have taken from the punt, and with every sweep of his weapon
one or more of the enemy were knocked into the water.
By this means, and before I had had time to strike a single blow in my
own defense, he cleared the deck immediately in front of me, and then,
thrusting the paddle into my hands, he seized the musket, running with
it into the cabin.
I was wholly at a loss to understand the meaning of this move on his
part, and just for an instant believed he had turned tail at the very
moment when he could be of the most assistance; but there was scant
opportunity for speculation. Luther Stedman had brought with him a
large force, counting on making a clean job of it, and no sooner was
one put out of the fight than it seemed as if half a dozen took his
place.
It was necessary for me to use the paddle to the best of my ability, so
closely did they press me instantly Seth had disappeared; but despite
all my efforts I could not come within striking distance of Luther
Stedman. That cowardly Tory was taking good care of his own precious
skin, and had no intention of running any unnecessary risks.
In reading over what I have just set down, I find it has been made
to appear as if I was the only member of the sloop’s crew who took
any part in the defense, and yet such is far from being the truth. My
comrades were fighting desperately, and I have not attempted to tell
what they did simply because I had no means of knowing. I was dimly
conscious that every one of our party except Seth, who appeared to be
skulking in the cabin, was resisting the attack to the best of his
strength, and without regard to personal danger; but the foe so far
outnumbered us that we could not rally to a common place of defense.
It was at the very moment when I had been felled to the deck by a
cowardly blow delivered from behind while I was grappling with a fellow
who pressed me hard, that the report of a musket rang in my ears as if
the weapon had been discharged within an inch of my head, and a shriek
of pain followed it.
“Get forward here, lads!” I heard Seth cry. “It is not for us to fight
with sticks at such a time as this!”
Even while scrambling to my feet, for the enemy had fallen back very
suddenly at the discharge of the musket, I understood why Seth had gone
into the cuddy. He knew that plenty of ammunition for the musket could
be found there, and was not minded to fight bare-handed any longer.
A second report and a second yell of pain came while the enemy stood
for the instant undecided, as if surprised at knowing we had deadly
weapons on board, and a full half of Luther’s cowardly following went
over the rail into the water. They could fight with apparent energy
while believing we were the same as defenseless, but at the first show
that we had the means of inflicting serious injury, their small spark
of courage fled.
Abel Grant, with Sam and Abraham, had been forced aft, separated from
Seth and me by the foe, and now they came toward the cuddy hatch with a
yell of triumph, sweeping two more of the gang overboard, while I cried
out for them to take care lest Luther escape us, when came a third shot
and the battle was over.
The last of the Tory crew who were able to do so had taken to the
water, less afraid of being drowned than shot, leaving behind two who
were too badly wounded to admit of flight.
“We are allowin’ Luther to get away scot free!” I cried in a rage,
running aft to leap into the punt that I might set off in pursuit,
and Abel, instead of seconding my efforts, stood like a statue, as he
repeated stupidly:
“Luther! He can’t be here, ’cause he’s on the other side of the river!”
“But he _is_ here!” I screamed angrily. “I came face to face with the
sneakin’ villain, an’ surely should be able to recognize him!”
“Did he an’ Ezra both get out of jail?” Sam cried, and all on board
remained stupidly staring at me, without making any effort toward
aiding me make ready the boat, thus giving the Tories ample opportunity
to make their escape.
From the sound of oars in the distance I understood that those who had
made the attack were too far away by this time to warrant our going in
pursuit, and, inwardly raging because my comrades had allowed their
astonishment to shut off all possibility of our capturing any of the
miscreants save the two who lay on the sloop’s deck wounded, I went
toward the cabin-hatch to relieve my feelings by harsh words, when a
voice from the shore was heard:
“Ahoy on the sloop! Answer or we’ll open fire!”
“Ahoy!” I shouted, and now it was my turn to be astonished almost to
the verge of stupidity, for I had not believed there were any near at
hand on the shore save it might be Britishers.
“What craft is that?”
“The sloop Swiftsure.”
“What has been going on out there?” the voice cried, and I believed I
recognized it as Lieutenant Winterbottom’s.
“A gang attempted to work mischief, an’ came precious near succeedin’,”
I replied, once more allowing anger to get the better of me as I
realized that Luther Stedman and his following had escaped much the
same as scot free, for I did not count the wounded sufficient in
number to be a fair punishment for what would have been done save for
Seth’s quick wit.
“Why didn’t you answer our hail?” the voice from the shore asked
sharply.
“Did you cry out before?”
“Ay, a dozen times. Do you know who made the attack? Were they soldiers
or sailors?”
“Neither; but a party of Tories led by one Luther Stedman.”
“Have they escaped?”
“There are two on board too badly wounded to be able to help
themselves. The greater number must have gone away in boats, an’ it
stands to reason that some are ashore, or tryin’ to get there, for more
than one leaped overboard at the report of our musket.”
Then we heard the command for the guard to turn out, and soon the hum
of voices told that soldiers were searching here and there along the
shore for those who had attacked us.
Now we understood why Luther and his following had fought so silently.
They were doubtless aware that some of our force was encamped close by,
and knew their purpose must be accomplished without noise if it was to
succeed.
Five minutes later came the sound of oars near at hand, and when Abel
Grant hailed it was Lieutenant Winterbottom who replied, saying in a
business-like tone as he came aboard:
“We will send the wounded ashore, for I’m thinking you do not care to
have them here.”
Until this moment we had given no heed to the fellows who lay in the
cockpit, and our neglect of them was not due to wanton brutality; but
rather because we were so mixed in mind as to be really incapable of
acting like sane people.
Abel Grant brought the sloop’s lantern and lighted it that we might
have a view of their faces; but we failed of recognizing them, and
I said bitterly when the lieutenant’s men were dressing the wounds
roughly, preparatory to putting the fellows aboard the small boat:
“It is as I thought! Luther Stedman recruited his force from among
the idlers on the shore who are ready for anythin’ that promises an
opportunity for plunder. If--”
“Why do you continue to say it was Luther Stedman who led the attack?”
the lieutenant asked in a tone of irritation, as if repetition of the
name annoyed him. “That Tory is safe in jail, and will remain there for
some days to come.”
“That is where he should be,” I replied hotly; “but since he an’ I came
face to face, you must allow that I would not be likely to make any
mistake as to the scoundrel. That which most interests me is, how he
had a chance to do this thing!”
“It not only interests _me_, but I’m thinking General Putnam will
insist on an explanation,” and now the lieutenant spoke gravely, as if
believing the matter to be very serious. “The orders were for him to
be detained a certain time, and that he is at liberty shows we have
another traitor among our people. You lads shall know all I may be able
to learn--that is,” he added with an odd break in his voice, “if I am
in condition to give information to any one at this time to-morrow.”
I failed of understanding what he meant; but Sam, not so stupid, asked
in a low tone:
“Is it certain that a battle will be fought very soon, sir?”
“The British will undoubtedly open the attack by daylight to-morrow,
and with the odds in their favor. I have been sent here to make certain
the enemy does not attempt to land a force in our rear.”
“An’ what are we lads to do while the soldiers are fightin’?” I asked,
for it seemed to me that we had already given such account of ourselves
that we should be entitled to do the work of men.
“You are to remain here in charge of the sloop. If so be the battle
goes against us, you will be sorely needed,” the lieutenant replied
gravely, and I added with more of insistence than was seemly in a lad:
“But there are four of us who can do as good work with muskets as those
twice our age, an’ it surely seems as if we should be allowed the
opportunity.”
“Not when you can be of greater service elsewhere. Be content to obey
orders, as soldiers should, remembering that this coming battle will
not be the only one we colonists must be called upon to fight before
the king has been made to understand that we count on struggling for
our rights so long as a corporal’s guard is left alive. Your turn will
come later, lads.”
By this time the soldiers had made ready to remove the wounded men,
and, much to my relief, we of the sloop were not called upon to aid in
the gruesome task of putting them on board the boat.
Then came two terrible days for us--terrible because we lay idle off
the ferry, not daring to go on shore owing to the orders Lieutenant
Winterbottom had given, and wholly ignorant of what was being done,
save that we knew full well a battle had been fought and our people got
the worst of it, although the greater portion of them held their own in
the fortifications.
During all this time we remained on board the sloop, never venturing to
go on shore even for a single moment lest we should be needed, as the
lieutenant had suggested, and then a young fellow who did not appear to
be more than twenty years old, hailed us from the shore at about five
o’clock in the afternoon, asking that we come in the punt and take him
aboard.
“I have here a written order from Lieutenant Winterbottom,” he said,
when I had explained that our instructions were to remain at anchor
until receiving some positive command from General Putnam or one of his
staff.
It can well be fancied that we went for him with a rush on hearing
this, for now, after so long and terrible a time of waiting did it seem
as if we might learn the truth of what had been done, and because I
cannot tell the story as well as did he, I propose to set down the tale
exactly as he told it to us immediately we brought him on board.
His name was James Martin, and he had come to New York with the
Connecticut troops to aid in the defense of the town when it was known
that the Britishers were counting to make an attack upon our people.
Martin had an ugly wound in the shoulder which, fortunately, had
already been dressed by a surgeon, and the written word he brought from
Lieutenant Winterbottom was to the effect that we take him aboard and
remain on the alert, for we would have work in plenty before midnight.
“Does that mean we are to carry soldiers back to the town?” I asked,
and Martin replied:
“I have no idea what is to be done. Some believe General Washington
counts on beatin’ a retreat, while others are of the opinion that we
are to make a try at gettin’ over Gravesend bay way, so that we may
take the enemy in the rear.”
“S’posen you tell us all you know about the business from the time
you set out for Long Island?” Abel Grant said, and it can well be
understood that we were eager enough to hear the story; but, in order
that we might not miss seeing or hearing the first messenger who should
come to us, we gathered in the blood-stained cockpit, where Martin was
made as comfortable as possible. And here is the story he told, set
down exactly as we heard it from his lips:
“It seemed a good deal like sport to come up to New York from New
Haven, and a grand time some of us had until the afternoon when we were
ordered to march down to the ferry to take boat for Long Island.
“Of course we expected something of the kind, especially after hearing
that the British had landed on the island, but I didn’t feel overly
comfortable in mind at the idea of snuffing gunpowder when bullets were
mixed with it. However, I held my tongue, went to quarters, packed my
belongings, and got myself in readiness for a move as soon as possible.
“When we had marched to the ferry I saw several casks of sea-bread,
which was nearly as hard as musket-flints, and heard our captain give
the word for us to take as many as we could carry comfortably. As good
luck would have it, we made a short halt before the boats came up, and
I filled the bosom of my shirt with the hard biscuits, also taking as
many as could be carried in my hands, putting these last in my knapsack
while we were going across.
“After landing at Brooklyn we marched up the hill from the ferry, and
had not got very far when we began to meet wounded men, some with
broken legs, and some with broken heads. Sights like those made me feel
mighty uncomfortable; but I held my peace lest my comrades should think
me a coward. After marching three or four miles we were halted to give
us a chance to gnaw at the flinty biscuit, which were enough to break
the teeth of a rat.
“Before we had finished the not overly pleasing meal, a squad of
British came up through the thicket and engaged fifty or more of our
Connecticut troops, and it didn’t make a fellow feel very comfortable
in mind, knowing that within a short time he also would march up to be
shot at.
“The skirmish was short-lived, and then we were ordered to march once
more. After traveling about half a mile we came upon a small party of
artillerymen dragging a heavy twelve-pounder on a field-carriage, the
wheels of which sank deep in the sandy soil. They pleaded hard for some
one to help them haul the piece. Our officers gave no heed to their
entreaties, but urged us forward towards a creek, where a large party
of Americans and British were engaged.
“By the time we arrived the enemy had driven our men into the creek,
or, perhaps, you might call it a mill-pond, and such as could swim got
across, while those who could not, and who failed of finding anything
to buoy them up, went to the bottom. The British had three or four
field-pieces stationed near a brick house, and these were pouring
cannister and grape into our people like showers of hail. Many more
would have been killed but for the twelve-pounder, which, being got in
position, opened such a fire that the red-coats were forced to shift
their quarters.
“In this section was a regiment of Maryland troops, all young men. It
was truly a pitiful sight when they came out of the water and mud,
looking rather like rats than human beings. Many of them were killed
while swimming across the pond, and more were drowned. When the tide
went down some of our regiment waded into the water and took out a
number of corpses, as well as a great many muskets that had been lost
or deliberately thrown into the creek. Our regiment lay on the ground
we then occupied, during that night.
“Next afternoon we had a pretty tight scratch with about our own number
of British, all of which came about rather oddly. A few of our boys
went across the creek on what had become our regular business, that
is, in search of something to eat. There was a field of corn a short
distance off, with several cocks of hay about half-way from the creek
to the cornfield. Our boys counted on getting some of the corn, or
anything else that might be eatable. When they had got as far as the
hay-cocks they were fired upon by the British, who were hidden in the
cornfield.
“Our boys took to the hay, and the red-coats to the fence, from
which positions a number of shots were exchanged, neither side being
willing to give way. Finally about forty of our people charged,
driving the British from the fence, and, more red-coats coming up just
then, our fellows were driven back in turn. Each side kept receiving
reinforcements, until we had our entire regiment in action, and the
enemy mustered about as many; but after a hard tussle we succeeded
in routing them, yet did not dare to follow when they retreated, for
fear of falling into some snare. We lost in all--both killed and
wounded--about thirty.
“Our regiment was alone, no other troops being near where we were
lying. We had halted on rising ground covered with a young growth
of trees, and a goodly number of these we felled to throw up such a
fence as would prevent the approach of the enemy’s horse. Near night
a heavy shower came up, which wet us all to the skin, and damaged our
ammunition so much that when the storm cleared away we were ordered
to parade and discharge our pieces that they might be recharged. We
attempted to fire by platoons for improvement, but made blundering work
of it; it was more like a running fire. However, we got our muskets as
empty as our stomachs, and with half the trouble, nor was it difficult
to reload them, for we had the wherewithal to do that, but not so with
our stomachs.
“Just at dusk I, with one or two others of our company, went to a barn
about half a mile away to get some straw, for the ground was drenched
with the rain. It was quite dark in the building, and while I was
fumbling around on the floor some one called from the top of the mow,
asking who we were. I told him, and he asked if there had not been a
battle nearby; said he and his mates had heard the firing, and crept
in there to save their lives. They had heard us when we discharged our
muskets in order to reload them, and believed the barn to be entirely
surrounded by the enemy. We never let on that the Britishers hadn’t
been there; but, gathering up some sheaves of wheat, went back to the
regiment. From the number of voices I heard, it is safe to say there
were not less than a dozen skulking in the barn, and if they didn’t
succeed in mustering up any more courage, it’s likely they’ll stay
there till the red-coats gather ’em in, as should be done to those who
show the white feather so handily.
“When I got back to where our regiment was stationed, I found the men
under arms ready to march away, so I dropped the wheat sheaves which
had cost so much in the way of time, picked up my musket, and fell into
line. We were ordered not to speak, or even to cough, while on the
march. All orders were given in whispers, being repeated from officer
to officer down the line, and we were started off in the direction of
the ferry, wondering much as to the meaning of it all. Hardly was our
regiment in motion, when your lieutenant came up and ordered me to fall
out in order to make a short cut for the shore here, to warn you that
much work would be called for this night.”
The soldier ceased speaking as if his story had come to an end, and I,
who had failed to hear whatsoever of a real battle, asked impatiently:
“Hasn’t there been a fight here on the island?”
“Bless you, yes,” he replied. “Our people have been fighting here,
there and everywhere; but I reckon you’ll find, if our commanders
allow that a big battle has been fought, that it was cut up in little
pieces, same’s I’ve been telling about.”
“I can’t see that it makes any particular difference to this ’ere
organization whether it has been a pitched battle, or a lot of
skirmishes,” Abel Grant said as if giving words to his thoughts.
“The upshot of it all is that the Americans are whipped, an’ are now
retreatin’.”
“Who said they were whipped?” Sam asked angrily.
“This ’ere soldier has told us much the same thing, an’ ’less we’re
dummies, we don’t need to be told that troops are retreatin’ when
they move softly away in obedience to whispered orders. Besides, the
lieutenant has said the same when he tells about hard work for this
night. I’m only the admiral of the fleet; but if I was in command of
the land forces, I’d be makin’ ready to get back inter runnin’ a ferry.”
There was no good reason why we should dispute over the meaning of
James Martin’s story. We knew well enough that some disaster had
befallen our people, and after all we had seen of the enemy’s strength,
it really did not seem strange the king’s forces should have come out
best, they being entitled to do so by sheer press of numbers.
The one question I wanted settled was as to how we could do anything
toward making ready for the work before us, save by remaining on the
alert, and, lest the others should know how thoroughly ignorant I was,
I asked advice of our prisoner.
“It wouldn’t do any harm to warp in a bit nearer the shore,” Seth
replied, speaking in a low tone, for he understood that I did not care
the others should know I had been seeking advice. “Then it stands you
in hand to feed the company, for I’m thinkin’ that when our work begins
there’ll be scant time for eatin’ till it’s over.”
“Then you believe our people are beatin’ a retreat?” I asked.
“There can be no other meanin’ to the story the recruit has been
tellin’, an’ now has come the time when you lads may do better service
for your Cause than if you stood in the trenches with a musket a full
week at a stretch. The work now is to save your army, an’ you with your
boat can do more than could be effected with all the American muskets
on the island.”