← catalogue

Hurricane Hurry

by William Henry Giles Kingston · English · Gutenberg #21465 · 1,124,484 chars · public domain (US)

The Project Gutenberg eBook of Hurricane Hurry
    
This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms
of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online
at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States,
you will have to check the laws of the country where you are located
before using this eBook.

Title: Hurricane Hurry

Author: William Henry Giles Kingston


        
Release date: May 15, 2007 [eBook #21465]

Language: English

Other information and formats: www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/21465

Credits: Produced by Nick Hodson of London, England


*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HURRICANE HURRY ***




Produced by Nick Hodson of London, England




Hurricane Hurry, by W.H.G. Kingston.

________________________________________________________________________

This rather long book is definitely an historical novel. In the edition
used there are 470 pages, not above size for one of Kingston's books,
but the text on the pages is tall and wide, while the font is small.
All this builds up to 1.1 megabytes of text.  In addition the inking was
not always good, though the type in the corners of the page was not
particularly damaged, as is common in Victorian printings.  As a result
producing this e-text was rather difficult, and there may still remain
some errors, though not, we hope, many.

The main action takes place in the years around 1780.

There are some rather strange aspects to the narration. For example, the
hero's name is Hurry, except that on two occasions in Chapter 8 and one
in Chapter 9, his name is mysteriously change to Poynder.  Also in
Chapter 9, the young Miss Carlyon is referred to as having gone to live
with her aunt, Mrs Tarleton, on the death of her father.  Yet the
latter figures strongly in the later stages of the book, so we conclude
that Kingston wrote the book with parts being pulled in from previous
notes, but that he did not go back and re-read the book with a critical
eye.

However, those are but passing observations which it is necessary to
make.  The book is about the war between the British and the American
Royalists on the one hand, and the American rebels on the other.  The
author is probably sympathetic to the rebels, but certainly to the cause
of Freedom, and he makes his hero, Hurry, sympathetic to their cause,
yet always observant of his duty as an officer of the King's Navy.
While there are the usual fights between ship and ship, or between ship
and weather, as always so beautifully expressed by Kingston's pen, we
find that by chapter 9 Hurry has fallen in love with an American young
lady, and the rest of the book contains episodes in which he is in
contact with her, though she is the daughter of a Colonel active on the
Rebel side.  It won't spoil the story if we say that they marry in the
last paragraph, five lines from the end.

Slightly annoying is the fact that we are made interested in the fate of
Harry Sumner, a very young midshipman, alone in the world, who is
wounded in a minor skirmish, and by Chapter 8 is met with in a
sick-berth, fully expecting to die. But does he die, or was that but a
childish fancy?  We never find out.

This book is probably one of the very best historical novels about the
American Rebellion, seen from the naval point of view, and as such is
well worth reading by both British and American subjects.

________________________________________________________________________

HURRICANE HURRY, BY W.H.G. KINGSTON.


CHAPTER ONE.

MY BIRTH, PARENTAGE, AND EDUCATION.--MAKE THE ACQUAINTANCE OF TOM
ROCKETS.--SENT TO SEA ON BOARD THE FOLKSTONE CUTTER, ANNO 1764.--
NUMEROUS VOYAGES.--MY FRIENDS AND I APPEAR ON THE QUARTER-DECK OF THE
TORBAY, 74.--JOIN THE FALCON.--MY ONLY DUEL.--ADVENTURES IN THE WEST
INDIES.--THE CARIB WAR.--BOAT CAPSIZED.--FATE OF HER CREW.--APPOINTED TO
THE WOLF.

On the north-east side of the street, about midway between the fish and
flesh markets in the seaport town of Falmouth, and at about the silent
and solemn hour of thirty-six minutes past one by my father's watch, on
the morning of the 28th day of December, of the year of grace 1752, His
Gracious Majesty George the Second being King of Great Britain and
Ireland, (it is necessary in important matters to be particular).  I was
introduced with the usual forms and ceremonies into the ancient family
of the Hurrys, as the undoubted child of my father Richard and my mother
Joan, the ninth, and as it subsequently proved, the last of their
promising offspring.  On the 29th day of the January following, the
Reverend Edward Walmsley, rector of the parish, baptised me by the names
of Hurricane, with the addition of Tempest, which were selected by my
parents, after numberless consultations, in compliment to my maternal
grand-uncle, Sir Hurricane Tempest, Alderman of Bristol, though it did
not appear from his remark when informed of the occurrence that it was
likely to benefit in the remotest manner from the delicate attention
which had been paid him.

My early days were not remarkable, I got through the complaints incident
to childhood in a manner satisfactory to my mother and the doctor, while
my elder brothers and sisters took very good care that I should not be
spoilt by over-indulgence.  My brothers, as they advanced towards
manhood, were sent into various professions, and as none of them had
chosen the sea, it was decided, without my opinion being asked, that I
should be made an offering to Neptune.

That I might be prepared for my future calling, I was sent to reside
with my brother-in-law Jack Hayfield, in the neighbourhood of Bideford,
North Devon, to allow me the vast benefit of attending the school of
worthy Jeremiah Sinclair, kept over the marketplace in that far-famed
maritime town.  I still love the recollection of the old place, with its
steep streets, its broad quays, and its bridge of many arches; to my
mind a more picturesque bridge does not exist in all the world, nor,
when the tide is in, a prettier river.  On the bosom of that river I
gained my first practical experience of affairs nautical, and many a
trip I made down to Appledore with my schoolfellow Ned Treggellis, in a
boat which, had not a special providence watched over us, would speedily
have consigned us to the muddy bottom of the stream.  An oar served us
as a rudder, another as a mast, with a piece of sacking as a sail spread
on a condemned boat-hook, while one of us was constantly employed in
baling out the water which came in through leaks unnumbered--a state of
affairs we had learned to consider normal to our craft.

From Sinclair's school, in order to receive the finishing-touches to my
education, I was removed to old Allen's well-known Mathematical Academy
in Cold Harbour.

It is just possible that I might have reaped some amount of benefit from
the mental provender served out in those nurseries of genius, but
unfortunately for me Jack's appreciation of the advantages of knowledge
was such that he considered the time squandered devoted to its
acquisition.  Frequently, therefore, when I was supposed by my good
sister Mary, his wife, to be on my way to school, I had been waylaid by
him, and was employed with another boy in setting springles, marking
woodcocks, or in some other equally intellectual pastime.  Whatever I
may now think about the matter, I was then convinced that Brother Jack
was one of the kindest and best fellows in the world; and when I fell
asleep in my chair during the evening, my somnolency was attributed to
the assiduity with which I had applied to my studies during the day.  I
have since then had not a little reason to regret honest Jack's
ignorance and my own folly in listening to his persuasions.

My frequent companion on the occasions I have spoken of was Tommy
Rockets, the son of a poor widow who lived near Jack's house.  He was
somewhat younger than myself and small for his age, but a sharp,
intelligent little fellow, though amusingly ignorant of affairs in
general.  His chief employment was acting the part of a scarecrow by
frightening birds from the cornfields, and running on errands into
Bideford for any of the neighbours, by which means he enabled his mother
to eke out her scanty pittance.  I used to share with him my school
pasty, and now and then I saved a piece of bread and cheese, or I would
bring him a cake or a roll from Bideford.  He never failed to carry a
portion to his mother, sharp-set as he always was himself.  The poor
fellow soon conceived a strong affection for me; and when I was going
off to sea he cried bitterly at the thoughts of parting from me.  I also
had a regard for him, and, forgetting how small and young he was, I took
it into my head that I would carry him with me.  We were sitting on a
grassy bank under a tree, with a series of undulating hills and the blue
ocean beyond, when I broached the subject.

"Would'st like to come to sea with me, Tom?" said I broadly.

"What, to them furrin parts across the water?" he asked, pointing
seaward with his chin.  "No; I'd bee afeared, Master Hurricane, I would.
What makes you go now?"

"To fight the Frenchmen, of course," I replied.  "It's peace just now,
they say, though I thought we were always at war with the French; but it
won't last long, that's one comfort."

"Well, now, I'd rather stay at home with mother than go and fight the
furriners--that I would," said Tommy, with much simplicity.

"Oh, you've no spirit, boy!"  I replied, with a look of contempt.
"Wouldn't you like, now, to be sailing round the world with Commodore
Byron, who'll fill his ships with rubies, and pearls, and gold, and
precious stones, and all sorts of things.  Why, Tommy, you would come
back with more riches in your waistcoat-pocket than you ever thought to
possess in your life."

Tommy's eyes sparkled as I spoke.  "What, enough to make my mother a
lady!" he exclaimed.  "Well, then, Master Hurricane, if so be you can
take me to them parts, when I'm big enough I'll go with ye."

"Well, we'll see about it," said I, with a patronising air; "but it is
not all gold-picking, remember.  There's plenty of fighting and
prize-taking besides.  You've heard speak of Admiral Hawke?"

"No," said Tommy, "I ne'er did."

"I'd have given my right hand to have been with him when he beat the
French in Quiberon Bay.  That was a glorious day for old England, let me
tell you."  I was able to expatiate on the subject, as the last time I
was at home my father read me a full account of the battle which took
place in 1759, the year preceding the death of his Majesty George the
Second, and about five years before the time of which I am now speaking.
It was the most memorable action of my early days.  The French fleet
was commanded by Monsieur de Conflans, whom a short time before a
violent gale had compelled to take shelter in Brest harbour, while the
English had anchored in Torbay.  The two fleets were about equal.  After
cruising for some time the enemy again took shelter in Quiberon Bay, on
the coast of Bretagne, in France, where they were pursued by the
English.  A strong gale had sprung up and a heavy sea was running, but,
undaunted, the brave Hawke stood on.  The Frenchmen hoped to lead his
fleet to destruction among the rocks and shoals of that dangerous coast.
Unwilling to fight, yet too late to escape, the French admiral, when he
saw the English approach, was compelled to make sail.  Hawke pursued
them and ordered his pilots to lay him alongside the Soleil Royal, which
bore the flag of the French admiral.  The Thesee, a seventy-four-gun
ship, ran between them, and a heavy sea entering her ports, she
foundered.  The Superbe, another Frenchman, shared the same fate.
Several other French ships struck their colours; many were driven on
shore, among which was the flag-ship, which was set on fire and
destroyed.  A great number of the French were killed, but the English
lost only one lieutenant and thirty-nine men killed, and about two
hundred wounded.  But I must not stop to describe the gallant actions
which occurred during my boyhood.  Lord Anson, one of the most
experienced of navigators, died two years only before I went to sea.
Captain Byron sailed that same memorable year, when my country first had
the benefit of my services, on his voyage of discovery into the pacific,
and returned in 1766.  Captains Wallis and Carteret sailed on exploring
voyages at the same time.  I happened to have heard of Mr Cook, but it
was not till many years after this that he became known to fame as one
of the most talented and scientific of English navigators; indeed, he
did not return from his great voyage till eleven years after this.  He
lost his life in his last voyage in 1779.

A number of gallant actions were fought at the end of the war,
sufficient to fire the ardour of any youth of spirit to whom they were
recounted.  Captain Hood's capture of the Warwick, a sixty-gun ship,
which had been taken from the English, was one of the most celebrated.
At this time, however, she carried but thirty-six guns, with 300 men,
including a company of soldiers.  Captain Hood attacked her in the
Minerva frigate of thirty-two guns and 220 men, and after an hour's
fight, with a heavy sea running, both ships having lost their masts, he
captured her and took her to Spithead.  A still more remarkable action
was that of the Bellona and Brilliant, Captains Faulkner and Loggie, and
a French ship of the line and two heavy frigates, which resulted in the
capture of the first and the flight of the latter.  There were also
numerous actions fought between packets and privateers, and other small
craft, with the enemy, which seldom failed to add to the honour and
glory of our country.  Though ignorant of other lore, I greedily
devoured all the accounts I could find of these events, and having once
made up my mind that the sea was to be my profession, I resolved, when
opportunities should occur, to imitate them to the best of my power.

But to return to my friend Tommy.  Just before I sailed I went to pay
his mother a visit.  I found the widow sitting, as was her wont,
knitting at her window, waiting for her son's return.  I went not
empty-handed, for besides my pasty, which I had saved, I had bought a
loaf and a lump of cheese and a bundle of lollipops at Bideford.  First
presenting her with these treasures and emptying my pockets of the very
small amount of cash they contained, I opened the business I had at
heart.  Poor Mrs Rockets burst into tears when I asked her to let her
Tommy go to sea with me.

"Oh, Master Hurricane!" said she, "I feel all your kindness to a poor
creature like me and my boy, and I would not deny you anything, but, oh,
sir, he is my only child, my only comfort in life, and I cannot part
with him!"

All the arguments I could use and the brilliant hopes I held out were of
no avail for a long time, till at last, with a sad voice, she consented,
when he grew bigger, should he then show a strong wish to go to sea, to
allow him to accompany me.

I met Tommy on my way home and told him that he must make haste and grow
big that he might go to sea and fill his pockets with pearls and
diamonds for his widowed mother.  In many a dream which I had thus
conjured up, both by day and night, did the poor lad indulge as he was
scaring off the crows in the fields or lying on his humble pallet in his
thatched-roof hut near Bideford.

It was at Whitsuntide of the year 1764, I then numbering eleven summers,
that I was placed on the books of the Folkstone cutter, commanded by a
particular friend of my father's, Lieutenant Clover; the amount of
learning I possessed on quitting school just enabling me to read a
chapter in the Bible to my old blind grandmother (on my mother's side),
who lived with us, and to tell my father how many times a coachwheel of
any diameter would turn round in going to Penryn.  Having received my
father's and mother's blessing and a sea-chest, which contained a
somewhat scanty supply of clothes, a concise epitome of navigation, an
English dictionary, and my grandmother's Bible--the only gift of value
the kind old lady had it in her power to bestow--I was launched forth
into the wide world to take my chance with the bustling, hard-hearted
crowd which fills it.  I was speedily removed from the cutter into his
Majesty's packet the Duncannon, Captain Charles Edwards, in which vessel
I crossed the Atlantic for the first time; and after visiting Madeira
and several of the West India Islands I returned to Falmouth on the eve
of Christmas, 1767.  I next joined the Duke of York, Captain Dickenson,
in which vessel I made no less than sixteen voyages to Lisbon.  As,
however, I had grown very weary of the packet service, I was not sorry
to be paid off and to return once more home, if not with a fuller purse,
at all events, a better sailor than when I left it.  I was not long
allowed to enjoy the luxury of idleness before my father got me
appointed to the Torbay, seventy-four, commanded by Captain Walls, who
was considered one of the smartest officers in the service, and I was
taught to expect a very different sort of life to that which I had been
accustomed to in the slow-going packet service.  There were several
youngsters from the neighbourhood of Falmouth, who had never before been
to sea, who were appointed to the same ship.  One of them, my old
messmate poor Dick Martingall, used to speak of the unsophisticated joy
with which his old mother, in her happy simplicity, announced to him the
fact of his appointment.  She came to his bedside long before the usual
hour of rising and awoke him.

"Richard, my dear son, Richard!" she said; "get up, thou art made for
ever!"

"What am I made, mother?" he asked with astonishment, rubbing his eyes,
which were still full of sleep.

"Oh, my boy, my dear boy!" replied the good lady, her countenance
beaming with satisfaction, "thou art made a midshipman!"

Alas! little did his poor old mother dream of the sea of troubles into
which her darling boy was about to be launched, what hardships and
difficulties he was doomed to encounter, "the snubs that patient raids
from their superiors take," or she would not have congratulated herself
on the event, or supposed that by his being made a midshipman he was
made for ever.  Yet in his case it was so far true, poor fellow, that he
was never made anything else, as he was carried out of the world by
fever before he had gained a higher step in rank.

The tailors in Falmouth and its neighbourhood who were employed in
fitting us out were delightfully innocent of all notion of what a
midshipman's uniform should really be, and each one seemed to fancy that
he was at liberty to give full scope to the exuberance of his taste.
Their models might have been taken from the days of Benbow, or rather,
perhaps, from the costumes of those groups who go about disguised at
Christmas-time enacting plays in the halls of the gentry and nobility,
and are called by us west-country folks "geese-dancers."  As we met on
board the cutter which was to carry us to Plymouth we were not, I will
allow, altogether satisfied with our personal appearance, and still less
so when we stepped on the quarter-deck of the seventy-four, commanded by
one of the proudest, most punctilious men in the service, surrounded by
a body of well-dressed, dashing-looking officers.

Tom Peard first advanced, as chief and oldest of our gang, with a
bob-wig on his head surmounted by a high hat bound by narrow gold lace,
white lapels to his coat, a white waistcoat, and light-blue
inexpressibles with midshipman's buttons.  By his side hung a large
brass-mounted hanger, while his legs were encased in a huge pair of
waterproof boots.  I followed next, habited in a coat all sides radius,
as old Allen would have said, the skirt actually sweeping the deck, and
so wide that it would button down to the very bottom.  My white cuffs
reached half way up the arm to the elbow; my waistcoat, which was of the
same snowy hue, reached to my knees, but was fortunately concealed from
sight by the ample folds of my coat, as were also my smallclothes.  I
had on white thread stockings, high shoes and buckles, and a plain
cocked hat--a prodigiously long silver-handled sword completing my
costume.

Dick Martingall's and Tom Paynter's dresses wore not much less out of
order, giving them more the appearance of gentlemen of the highway than
of naval officers of respectability.  One had a large brass-mounted
sword once belonging to his great-grandfather, a trooper in the army of
the Prince of Orange; the other, a green-handled hanger, which had done
service with Sir Cloudesley Shovel.

Often have I seen a set of geese-dancers compelled to make a hurried
flight before the hot poker of some irate housekeeper disturbed in her
culinary operations, and much in the same way did we four aspirants for
naval honours beat a precipitate retreat from the deck of the Torbay as,
with a stamp of his foot, our future captain ordered us to be gone and
instantly to get cut down and reduced into ordinary proportions by the
Plymouth tailors.

As may be supposed, the operation was almost beyond the skill of even
the most experienced master of the shears, and we were all of us
compelled, much to our dismay, to furnish ourselves for the most part
with new suits.  On our return on board, however, we were complimented
on our appearance; and as our tailor agreed to receive payment from our
first instalment of prize-money, we were perfectly content with the
arrangement.

After spending a few months in channel cruising--the Torbay being
ordered to lay as guard-ship at Plymouth--such a life not suiting my
fancy, I quitted her and joined his Majesty's sloop of war Falcon,
captain Cuthbert Baines, fitting out for the West India station.

As in those days I kept no regular journal, I have only a few scattered
notes written in an old log-book to guide me in my account of the events
of that period of my career.  A few are still vivid in my memory as when
they first occurred, but many have escaped me altogether, or appear like
the fleeting phantoms of a dream of which it is impossible to describe
the details.  I must therefore be allowed to pass rapidly over that
early portion of my naval life and go on to the time when I had passed
my examination for a lieutenant's commission and trod the quarter-deck
as a master's mate.

On the Falcon's leaving Portsmouth we touched at Falmouth or our way
down channel, when I had the opportunity of taking leave of my family--
with some of them, alas! it was an eternal farewell.  This is one of the
seaman's severest trials; he knows from sad experience that of the many
smiling faces he sees collected round the domestic hearth some will too
surely be missing on his return, wanderers, like himself, far, far away,
or gone to their final resting-place.

We made a stay of a few days at Madeira, and without any occurrence
worthy of note reached English Harbour, Antigua, October 21st, 1771,
where we found lying several ships of war under the flag of Rear-Admiral
Mann.

I have not hitherto mentioned the names of my messmates.  Among others,
there were William Wilkins, John Motto, Israel Pellew [see note], and
Alexander Dick.  We were a jovial set and generally pulled well
together; but on one occasion the apple of discord was thrown in among
us, and Alexander Dick, the surgeon's mate, and I fell to loggerheads in
consequence of some reflections I thoughtlessly cast on the land of his
nativity--to the effect, as far as my recollection serves me, that
nothing better was to be found there as food for the people than sheeps'
heads and boiled bagpipes; to which he retorted by asserting that we
west-country folks were little better than heathens and had no more
manners than blackamoors.  As neither of us would retract what we had
said, it was decided that our dispute could alone be settled by mortal
combat.  Pistols, we were aware, were the most gentlemanly weapons to be
employed on such occasions; but we found that it would be impossible to
obtain them in a hurry without to a certainty betraying our intentions.
It was therefore settled by our seconds and ourselves that we should
decide the knotty question with our hangers as soon as we could manage
to get on shore after reaching port.  All four of us therefore, having
got leave the morning after our arrival, left the ship soon after
daybreak in a shore-boat and pulled off to a retired part of the
harbour.  Here we landed, and telling our black boatmen to wait our
return, we walked away arm-in-arm to a spot where we thought no one
would observe us.  Having thrown off our coats and tucked up our
shirt-sleeves, the word was given, and, drawing our hangers, we advanced
towards each other with furious passes, as if nothing but the death of
one of us could satisfy the rancour of our enmity, and yet at that very
moment I believe neither of us recollected the origin of our quarrel.
Dick first gave me a cut on the shoulder, which so excited my fury that
I was not long in returning the compliment by bestowing a slash across
his arm, which made him wince not a little, but before I could follow it
up he had recovered his guard.  In a moment I was at him again, and as
we were neither of us great masters of the noble art of self-defence, we
kept hewing and slashing away at each other in a most unscientific
manner for several minutes, till we were both of us covered with gashes
from head to foot, and the blood was flowing copiously down into our
very shoes.  At last, from very weariness and loss of blood, we dropped
the points of our swords as if by mutual consent.  Our seconds now
stepped forward.

"Hurry, my good fellow," said my second, "one thing I see clearly.  This
matter cannot be settled satisfactorily with cold steel--it's too much
like the custom of piccarooners.  We must wait till we can get hold of
pistols, and arrange the affair in a gentlemanly way.  That's my
opinion, and I daresay you and Mr Dick will agree with me."  In honest
truth, both my antagonist and I were in such a condition that we were
perfectly ready to agree to any arrangement which would prevent the
necessity of continuing the painful operation we had both been
inflicting on each other.  All four of us therefore sat down on the
sands, and Dick, pulling out some lint and bandages from his pockets,
our seconds, under his directions, bound up our wounds.  When this at
length was done we found it, however, impossible to get on our coats
again.  We were therefore obliged to carry them over our shoulders as we
walked to the boats.  When the Negro boatmen saw our pale faces and
halting gait, as with difficulty we stepped into the boat, they grinned
from ear to ear, full well guessing what had occurred, and doubtlessly
thinking, as will, I suspect, my readers, that we were very great fools
for our pains.  Ay, truly we were far worse than fools, for in obedience
to the customs of sinful men we had been disobeying the laws of God, and
committing a very great crime as well as a very great folly, but we did
not think so then, nor did I till very many years afterwards.

Our intentions had not been kept so secret but that they had become
known on board, and, our appearance on our return fully corroborating
the truth of the reports which had been going about, we were put under
arrest by Captain Baines, who then sent for us, to know the cause of our
quarrel.  We explained it as well as we could; but, as may be supposed,
we neither of us had a very good case to make out.  "Well, gentlemen,"
said our commander, "this is a point I do not wish to decide myself, but
I shall leave it to the arbitration of the gun-room officers, and to
their decision you must bow."  The next day, therefore, the gun-room
officers held a court, and, feeling very stiff and very sore, and
looking, I doubt not, very foolish--though we did our best to appear
like heroes--we stood before them.  Having both of us pleaded our cause,
it was decided that we had no business to use the language we had
employed, and that we were both in the wrong.  We were in consequence
ordered to shake hands, and be friends, or else to look out for squalls.
Had we possessed more sense, this we might have done before we had cut
each other half to pieces, not to speak of spoiling a shirt and a pair
of breeches apiece.  Thus ended the first and only duel in which I was
ever engaged, and Dick and I from that time forward became very good
friends.

About this time, some serious disputes having arisen with the Caribs of
Saint Vincent, who had become very troublesome to the settlers, the
British Government formed the design of removing them altogether from
the island and of placing them on some part of the mainland, where they
might enjoy their own manner of life without interfering with civilised
people.  To effect this object an expedition was sent to the island
under the command of Major-General Dalrymple, consisting of two
regiments from America and various bodies of troops collected from the
other islands and from on board all his Majesty's ships of war on the
station.  At this distance of time of course I cannot pretend to be able
to give any minute description of the details of the affair.  I know
that there were some gentlemen who acted as commissioners who went on
shore to try and arrange matters with the Caribs; but the savages, after
agreeing to terms, not showing any intention to abide by them, the
troops were ordered to land.  It was very easy to give the order, but
not so easy to execute it, for at the time there happened to be an
unusually heavy surf breaking on the shore.  It would have been wiser in
my humble opinion to have waited till the surf had gone down, or to have
selected some other spot for disembarkation to that fixed on; but,
strange to say, the authorities did not happen to ask my opinion,
simply, I suppose, because I was a midshipman, and the landing
commenced.  The boats, pulled by the seamen and crowded with soldiers,
made for the shore.  Some reached it in safety by taking the proper
moment to dash through the surf, but others were not so fortunate.  One
boat from our ship had put off; the men in high spirits at the thought
of a brush with the Niggers, as they called the unfortunate Caribs.  I
was watching them from the deck as they approached the shore, when a
heavy roller went tumbling in after them.  The men saw it coming and
pulled for their lives, but it was too quick for them, and catching the
boat turned her over as if she had been a mere cockleshell.  In an
instant some thirty poor fellows were struggling in the surf.  Many sunk
at once, others made way for the shore, but they had a remorseless enemy
on the watch for them, and several, with a shriek of agony which reached
almost to the ears of those on board the Falcon, were drawn under by
those monsters of the deep, the voracious sharks.  Others, when nearly
touching the sand, were washed out again by the reflux of another roller
following up the first.  It was doubly sad, because before it was
possible to send any help to them their fate was sealed.  Several other
boats met with a like accident, and before the troops were all landed a
large number both of seamen and soldiers were lost.  The survivors
formed on the beach and then advanced rapidly into the country, where
the Caribs were drawn up in strong force to receive them.

The enemy, having the advantage of a knowledge of the country, chose
their own ground for encountering our troops, and, truth to say,
generally had the best of it.  I do not wish to enlarge on the subject.
I know that we gained very little honour and glory, but, after losing a
considerable number of men, some from the bullets of the enemy and
others from sunstrokes, the troops were ordered to embark again.
Afterwards we heard that the Caribs were allowed to remain in possession
of their rights.  I suspect, however, that they did not retain them for
any long period after this time.

I remember nothing of any particular importance happening to me till
August, 1772, when we were lying in English Harbour, Antigua, in company
with his Majesty's ships Chatham, Sea-horse, and Active.  I have good
reason to remember the harbour well.  It is small, but very pretty.  The
inner part is encircled by hills of various shapes and sizes, the outer
is formed by a rocky ridge, with a fort on it guarding the narrow
entrance.  The capital, Saint Johns, is at the other side of the island,
so that we were not able to get there as often as we wished.  With
little or no warning one of the most terrific hurricanes I ever
encountered came down upon us, and before we could get our topmasts
housed our masts went by the board, and at the same instant breaking
from our anchors we were all driven on shore together.  It was a case in
which seamanship was of no avail, for before we could make any
preparations to avert the evil the catastrophe had occurred.  The same
blast levelled with the ground all the stores and houses in the
dockyard, as also the Naval Hospital and all the dwelling-houses and
other buildings which it encountered in its course.  Before we could
attempt to heave the ships off we were obliged to clear them of
everything, down to the very kelson, and even then we could not move
them till we applied the most powerful purchases which could be
invented.  The Falcon had received so much injury that we were compelled
to heave her down to repair her before she was fit for sea.  While this
operation was going forward I had the misfortune to break my right
knee-pan, and for very long it was doubtful whether I should ever again
have the free use of my leg.  For sixteen weeks I remained in hospital,
but at length, to my great satisfaction, was pronounced fit for duty.

I was now no longer a mere youngster, and had seen already a
considerable amount of service.  Early in 1773 I was appointed
acting-lieutenant of the Falcon by Vice-Admiral Parry, who had
superseded Admiral Mann.  I now assumed the lieutenant's uniform and
walked the deck with no little amount of pride, hoping to be confirmed
in my rank when at the expiration of her time on the station my ship
should return to England.  The change from a midshipman's berth to the
gun-room was very considerable, and as I shone away in what the
Orlopians term white boot-tops, I was looked upon by them, with no
little amount of envy.  I was doomed, however, in this respect to suffer
disappointment.  In August, 1774, the Falcon returned home, the captain,
the lieutenant of marines, another midshipman, and myself, being the
only officers on board who had left England in her--the rest having died
or changed into other ships.  I must mention the kindness I ever
received from Captain Baines while I remained with him.  After I left
the Falcon I served in the Folkstone cutter stationed at Bideford, and
then joined the Wolf sloop of war, Captain Hayward.  In the space of a
few months I attended the funerals of his wife, his child, and lastly of
himself.  On quitting the Wolf I began what I may look upon as a new era
in my life, and it is therefore a fitting period to commence a fresh
chapter.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Note.  Afterwards Sir Israel Pellew, the brother of the famous Lord
Exmouth.



CHAPTER TWO.

COMMENCEMENT OF THE AMERICAN WAR OF INDEPENDENCE.--APPOINTED TO THE
ORPHEUS FRIGATE.--CAUSES OF THE WAR.--SAIL IN COMPANY WITH THE CHATHAM
FOR HALIFAX, NOVA SCOTIA.--STORMY PASSAGE IN MID-WINTER.--LOSE SIGHT OF
CHATHAM.--LOSE MASTS.--THE CAPTAIN KEEPS AT IT.--RIG JURY-MASTS.--A
SUCCESSION OF GALES.--GET IN AT LAST.--OUR CAPTAIN GAINS GREAT CREDIT.

I had enjoyed the _otium cum dignitate_ of a midshipman's life on shore
scarcely more than six weeks when, in September, 1775, the shrill
bugle-blast of war sounded the knell of the piping tunes of peace; and I
received the very satisfactory intelligence that I was rated as master's
mate on board the Orpheus frigate, of fifty-two guns, Captain Hudson,
then fitting for sea with all possible despatch at Plymouth, and
destined for the North American station.  I had hoped to have been
confirmed in my rank as a lieutenant; but, disappointed in this, I was
too glad under present circumstances to get afloat on any terms.

The peace which had now lasted for nearly ten years was thus abruptly
terminated by the outbreak into open rebellion of the North American
colonies, which led on to their Declaration of Independence.  I was
never anything of a politician, and I must confess that at that period
of my existence I troubled myself very little about the rights of the
case, though even then I had a lurking idea that the colonists were not
quite the ragamuffins some people would have had us suppose.  They had
no fancy, it appeared, to pay taxes without having a voice as to the
employment of their money or interest in the objects on which it was
expended.  The British Government and the upper classes generally at
home had always treated the inhabitants of the colonies as if they
considered them an inferior race, and almost beyond the pale of
civilisation.  This conduct had naturally caused much discontent and ill
feeling, and made the colonists more ready to resent and oppose any
attempt to curtail their rights and privileges.  What was called the
Stamp Act met with the first organised opposition.  The Government
offices were in many places pulled down, while the Governor of New York
and other promoters of the Act were burnt in effigy.  Many influential
colonists then bound themselves to make use of no articles on which
duties had been levied; while the people of Boston, proceeding a step
farther, rather than pay the duty imposed by the British Government,
threw into the sea the cargoes of several ships sent there by the East
India Company laden with tea.  This proceeding of the inhabitants of
Boston induced the British Government to send General Gage, with an
army, to take up his quarters there, with the intention of coercing
them.

The belief that arbitrary Government was about to be established
throughout the colonies made the people in every direction rise in arms.
A rebel force, consisting of several thousand men, began to collect in
the neighbourhood of the above-mentioned city.  Petition after petition
and remonstrance after remonstrance had been sent over to England in
vain.  The great Lord Chatham and the famous Mr Edmund Burke had
pleaded the cause of the patriots with all the mighty eloquence they
possessed; but without altering the resolution of the King or the
Government.  The celebrated Dr Franklin, already well known in England
and America as a philosopher as well as a statesman, had come over to
England to plead the cause of his countrymen, but had returned hopeless
of effecting his object.  What treatment, after this, could the
colonists expect, if they yielded to the dictates of the mother-country?

The crisis at length arrived.  There was at Concord, near Boston, a
large magazine of military stores.  General Gage sent a force to destroy
it.  The patriots collected in considerable numbers to oppose the
British troops, and drove them back, with a heavy loss, into the city.
This engagement, though little more than a skirmish, was called the
Battle of Lexington.  If its results were to be taken into
consideration, few battles have been of more importance.  Brethren had
shed each other's blood.  Both parties were exasperated beyond control.
The patriots felt their power; the royalists burned to wipe out the
disgrace their arms had received.  General Gage now regularly fortified
Boston, which was in its turn besieged by the rebels.  The whole
continent was up in arms.  Another successful enterprise had been
undertaken by a leader of irregulars, who had seized the Ports of
Ticonderoga and Crown Point, which gave the patriots the command of Lake
George and the head of Lake Champlain, always recognised as the keys of
Canada.

The patriots had by this time formed a regular Government.  Each of the
colonies had sent delegates to a general assembly held at Philadelphia,
to which the name of the Congress was given.  The Congress had
authorised the formation of an army and had appointed as
Commander-in-chief a gentleman of Virginia of good repute, Colonel
George Washington.  He was well known as a bold leader in frontier
warfare against the Indians, and had also seen service against the
French; besides this, he was a man of the highest moral qualities, which
had gained him the respect of his fellow-colonists.

The event which had induced the Government to despatch my ship and
others so hurriedly to the North American station was the battle of
Bunker's Hill, the news of which had just been received.  The engagement
itself would not have been of much consequence had it not proved that
the rebels were resolved to fight it out to the last.  The Americans,
besieging Boston, had fortified a height above the city called Bunker's
Hill.  General Gage resolved to dislodge them and to endeavour to raise
the siege.  Our troops, after much hard fighting and considerable loss,
claimed the victory, having driven the enemy from the heights; but the
Americans quickly rallied, and, many reinforcements coming up, the city
was more closely invested than ever.

I frequently heard the subject of the rebellion discussed by my friends
during my stay at home, and I cannot say that generally their sympathies
were in favour of the colonists.  A few took the view of the case
entertained by Lord Chatham, Mr Burke, and a small band of enlightened
men in advance of their age; but they mostly sided with the King and the
Tories, and considered that the presumption of the colonists must be put
down with a high hand.  They little knew of what stuff the descendants
of the Pilgrim Fathers--the sturdy Puritans, the dashing Cavaliers, the
prim Quakers, and of many other classes whom persecution, poverty, or
their crimes, had driven from Europe--were made, as I had full many
opportunities afterwards of discovering.  A just and judicious policy
which at once would have granted all the rights the colonists demanded
would have preserved the dignity of the mother-country and saved oceans
of bloodshed; but it was ordained otherwise.  The falsehood of traitors
had taught our too credulous King to disbelieve in the loyalty as well
as the courage of his trans-Atlantic subjects; and his ministers, in
spite of all the warnings and the earnest entreaties of the colonists,
persisted in forcing on them their obnoxious measures.  I must again
repeat, that at the time I allude to I did not see things in the serious
light in which I have described them.  It would never do if midshipmen
were to turn politicians; still, I could not help hearing what others
said on the subject, and I had plenty of time to think of what I had
heard.  The general cry was--"Crush the audacious rascals!  Put down the
traitorous villains with a strong hand!  What, venture to disobey the
authority of their lawful master and sovereign, King George?  They will
soon learn reason at the point of the sword!"  Such were the sentiments
shared by most on board, as well as throughout the army and fleet.

Had it not been for this outbreak of war, I had proposed volunteering to
sail with Captain Cook, who had just then returned from his famous
voyage in the Resolution with Captain Furneaux, who commanded the
Adventure; and it was reported that he was about to start on another and
still more important expedition, which he actually did on the following
year.

During my stay on shore I had gone over to see my sister Mary and my
brother-in-law, Jack Hayfield.  Jack was the same good-natured,
thoughtless creature as before, and had done as little to better himself
as he had to improve me.  I made inquiries for Tommy Rockets, whom I
found was still at home, so I set out to see him and his mother, not
forgetting what I knew would prove a welcome present to the poor woman.
I found her looking more careworn and poverty-stricken than ever.  She
did not know me when I entered her cottage, for I was much grown and
thoroughly sun-burnt.

"Well, dame," said I, "how goes the world with you?"  She looked at me
hard, surprised that a stranger should make such an inquiry; then,
suddenly recognising me, she sprang up, and in her joy was about, I
believe, to kiss me as she would have done Tommy, when, recollecting
herself, she took my hand, which I put out, and pressed it warmly.
After I had told her somewhat of my adventures I asked her whether she
would allow Tommy to accompany me the next time I went to sea.  The poor
woman turned pale at the question, but at last gasped out--

"If the lad wishes it, if it's for his good, I dare not say him nay--
but, oh, Master Hurricane, you'll look after him--you'll befriend him--
you'll protect him--he's my only child, and he's very simple and
ignorant of the world's ways."  I promised her that I would do my best
for him, though I warned her he must trust to his own good conduct; and
soon after Tommy came in.  I saw at a glance that he had the stuff in
him to make a sailor.  He had grown into a stout, broad-shouldered lad,
though still rather short, with fists big enough to fell an ox, a round,
bullet head covered with curly hair, and a thoroughly honest,
good-natured countenance, not wanting in intelligence, though a snubby
nose, small eyes, and thickish lips formed his features.  He had a
strong struggle in his bosom, I saw, before he could make up his mind to
tell his mother that he would accept my offer; but he could do little
for their mutual support while he remained on shore, and I left him
attempting to comfort her by telling her of the wealth with which he
would ere long return to her.

As soon as I got my appointment I sent directions to Tom to join me at
Plymouth, with a small sum to fit him out, being very certain that he
would at once be taken on board.  I had a wide round of farewell visits
to pay to numerous friends who had been kind to me during my stay on
shore.  They all wished me plenty of prize-money and rapid promotion,
but I cannot say that I had much expectation of getting either.  I was
much concerned at this time at observing the state of my father's
spirits.  His worldly affairs were, I suspected, not flourishing,
though, as he did not speak to me about them, I could not venture to
make any inquiries of him on the subject.  I could only cherish the hope
that if I did realise a sailor's dream and make any prize-money I might
be able to render him some assistance.  My poor mother's health also was
failing, weakened, as it long ago had been, by cares and
responsibilities of her numerous family.  With a heart therefore more
full of misgivings than usual, I bade them and those of my brothers and
sisters who remained at home farewell, and, with a chest rather more
amply supplied with necessaries than when I first went to sea, I set off
for my ship then lying at Hamoze, and joined her on the 15th of October,
1775.  I was, as I fully expected, successful in getting Tommy Rockets
rated as a landsman on board, and though, poor fellow, he at first
looked very much like a fish out of water, and a very odd fish too, I
saw that it would not be long before he would be perfectly at home on
his new element.

As soon as he had been entered and had become one of the ship's company,
I told him to go aloft, to give him some experience before we got to
sea.  "What, to the top of them big sticks that grow out of the ship?
They be plaguey high, Master Hurricane!" said he, looking up doubtingly,
at the same time preparing to swarm up by the foremast itself.  When he
found that he might go up by the shrouds he seemed to think it a very
easy matter, and before many days were over he could go aloft as quickly
as any lad in the ship.  I got an old seaman, Nol Grampus, who had
sailed with me in two ships before, to look after him and to put him up
to his duty, which, to do him justice, he was very anxious to learn.  A
little help of this sort to a lad when he first goes to sea is of great
service to him in many ways; it gives him encouragement, it saves him
from many a cuff and harsh word, and makes a seaman of him much sooner
than he would otherwise become.  On the 16th of the month we went into
the Sound, where the remainder of the officers joined.  By frequently
sending press-gangs on shore we got together our ship's company, but we
had yet to learn the stuff they were made of.  I was truly glad to find
two or three old shipmates on board.  One of them was Gerrard Delisle,
my greatest friend.  We had gone afloat at the same time and were
exactly the same age and standing, though, I must confess, he was vastly
my superior in education and ability.  He had all the gallantry and
impetuosity of an Irishman, with a warm heart full of generous feelings,
and at the same time the polish of a man of the world, not always to be
obtained in a cock-pit.  Another friend of mine was Noel Kennedy, also a
master's mate.  He was a Scotchman of good family, of which he was not a
little proud.  His pride in this respect was an amiable failing, if
failing it was, for his great anxiety was to shed honour on his name.
Among my other messmates were John Harris Nicholas, Richard Ragget, John
Drew.  A great pet of ours was little Harry Sumner--one of the smallest
midshipmen who ever came to sea.  Left an orphan, without a connexion
bound to him by the ties of blood, the poor child had been sent afloat
by his guardians as the simplest mode they could devise of disposing of
him.  The event was happy for him, for he soon found many more friends
on board than he ever would on shore, and in a short time there was not
a man of the ship's company who would not have risked his life to shield
him from injury.  As I shall have to mention the officers and my other
messmates in the course of my narrative I need not here describe them.

On the 30th, the moment we had cast off the lighters from alongside, we
sailed for North America in company with the Chatham, bearing the flag
of Rear-Admiral Shouldham, who was going out to take the chief command
on that station.  The wind continuing fair and the weather fine, we, on
the following day, lost sight of the English shore, which many on board
were destined never to see again--none of us, until months and months
had passed by.

Things had begun to shake a little into their places and the officers
and ship's company to know something of each other by the time that we
had got about three hundred leagues to the westward of Scilly.  Instead,
however, of keeping to the southward, where we might have found a
continuance of fine weather, our captain, in his anxiety quickly to
reach the scene of action, notwithstanding the advanced season of the
year, ordered a northerly course to be steered.  The consequence was
that we had soon work to try the mettle of all hands.  By noon on the
6th of November we fell in with a gale of wind which would as
effectually have blown up the Houses of Parliament as would Guido Faulks
and his barrels of gunpowder, if it could have got under them.  Sail was
shortened and all was made snug aloft in time, hat below many an article
took a voyage which terminated in total shipwreck to itself or
neighbours.

"Here comes a combing sea in a vengeance!" exclaimed Delisle, seizing
hold of little Harry to save him from being by chance washed away.  We
were standing aft on the quarter-deck.  On came the watery mountain with
its curling crest of snowy foam, and, striking the ship with terrific
force and with a noise like thunder, broke over the starboard chesstree,
deluging the decks forward and carrying away a fine cutter off the
larboard skidds, with some of the rails and carlings of the head.

"Where are we going to, Mr Delisle?" exclaimed little Harry, as he
clung to his arm with a look of very natural terror in his countenance.

"To Halifax, in Nova Scotia, I hope," answered Gerrard, laughing.
"Where else should you think?"

"I thought we might be going to the bottom," answered the poor boy with
perfect simplicity; "but I'm not afraid, you know."

"No reason why you should be, Harry," answered Delisle.  "The old barkie
will have to swim through many a worse sea than this, let me tell you--
so remember, my boy, you are never in future to begin to be afraid till
you see the rest of us turn pale."

Little Harry promised obedience, and he had before long ample
opportunities of proving his nerves.  The seamen, as they hurried about
the decks, shook the water in showers, like Newfoundland dogs from their
shaggy coats; and in a short time we had things put as much to rights as
circumstances would allow.

The gale continued all night, but ceased on the following evening
without having committed further damage, and from that time till the
morning of the tenth we had tolerably fine weather.  It then fell a
stark calm, but there was an ominous cold-grey silky look in the sky
which I did not like.  The captain was constantly on deck, anxiously
scanning the horizon, and Jonathan Flood, our old master, kept his
weather-eye open, as if apprehensive of evil.

"Vary fine weather this, Mr Hurry," said Andrew Macallan, our surgeon's
mate, who had come to sea for the first time.  "Just a wee bit more wind
to waft us on our way to the scene of action, and we may well be
content."

"Wait a bit, doctor, and we shall have wind enough and to spare,"
replied I.

It was not long before my words were verified--though just after that
the appearance of coming bad weather wore off, and even the captain and
master seemed to think that a moderate breeze was all we had to look
for.  We were lying with our topsails on the caps and courses hauled up,
when, without a moment's warning, a gust of wind with the force of a
hurricane laid the ship on her beam-ends.

"Up with the helm!" shouted the captain, who had that instant come on
deck.  "Brace round the foreyards--trice up--brail up the after sails!"

The helm was put up, but before the canvas could be handed, with claps
like thunder, the main-topmast-staysail and jib were blown from the
bolt-ropes, the topsails and courses were flying in shreds from the
yards, the topsail sheets, clew-lines and bunt-lines were carried away,
as were also the main-clew garnets, bunt-lines and leech-lines, while a
more tremendous sea than I had ever before beheld got up as if by magic.

The ship, however, happily answered her helm and flew before the gale,
which at the same time kept freshening and shifting round to every point
of the compass.

All we could now do was to scud, and that every instant, as the wind and
sea increased, became more and more dangerous.  To bring her to under
present circumstances was impossible--indeed, deprived of all means of
handing the sails, we were helpless; and by this time every one of them
was flying aloft in tattered streamers, adding not a little to the
impetuous rate at which the gale drove us onward.

The seas, each apparently overtopping the other, kept following up
astern, and before long one broke aboard us, deluging the decks and
sweeping everything before it.

"Hold on! hold on for your lives, my men!" shouted the captain as he saw
it coming.

Few needed the warning.  When for a short time all was again clear we
looked round anxiously to ascertain that none of our shipmates had been
carried overboard.  By next to a miracle all were safe.  The carpenter
and his crew were called aft to secure the stern ports and to barricade
the poop with all the planks and shores they could employ, but to little
purpose.  The huge dark-green seas, like vast mountains upheaved from
their base by some Titan's power, came following up after us, roaring
and hissing and curling over as if in eager haste to overwhelm us, their
crests one mass of boiling foam.  As I stood aft I could not help
admiring the bold sweep of the curve they made from our rudder-post
upwards, as high it seemed as our mizen-top, the whole a bank of solid
water, with weight and force enough in it to send to the bottom the
stoutest line-of-battle-ship in the Navy.  The taste we got occasionally
of their crests, as they now and then caught us up, was quite enough to
make me pray that we might not have the full flavour of their whole
body.

No one on board had thought all this time of the Chatham, and when at
length we did look out for her she was nowhere to be seen.  It was
probable that she was in as bad a plight as ourselves, so that neither
of us could have rendered the other assistance.  Hour after hour passed
without any improvement in the weather.  Every instant we expected
something worse to befall us.  To remain below was out of the question,
as at any moment we might be wanted.  To keep the deck was scarcely
possible, without the risk of being frozen to death or carried
overboard.  Matters were bad enough in the daytime, but when darkness
came on and we went plunging away amid showers of snow and sleet and
bitter frost, with the cold north-west wind howling after us, I thought
of what the friends of some of our delicately-nurtured young gentlemen
would say if they could see us, and, for my own part, often wished
myself by the quiet fireside of the humblest cottage in old England.  We
did our best to look after little Harry Sumner, and got him stowed away
carefully in his hammock, where we told him to lie still till he was
wanted.  There was no object in allowing him to remain on deck, where he
could not be of use and was very likely to get injured.

"I'll do as you tell me, Mr Hurry," said he.  "But I'm not afraid of
the sea or the wind--if it were not for the bitter, bitter cold I would
rather be on deck, I would indeed."

"You're a brave little fellow, Harry, but we must take care of you for
some nobler work, and then I've no doubt you'll give a good account of
yourself," said I.  "So now go to sleep and try and get warm."

Of my own immediate follower and protege, Tom Rockets, I have said
nothing since we came to sea.  By the courage and activity he displayed
on the present occasion he showed that he was made of the right stuff to
form a first-rate seaman, and I had no reason to be ashamed of him.

The whole of that long, weary night did we run on, the gale rather
increasing than falling, and when daylight broke over the waste of
tumultuous waters the prospect seemed as unpromising as ever.  Nothing
could be done to get in any of our tattered canvas.  The ship remained
tight, and that was our chief comfort.  At length, on the evening of the
11th, the wind began to drop a little.  Everyone was on deck ready to
take advantage of any opportunity which might occur for getting the ship
into a better condition.  Suddenly the wind shifted round to the
north-east and dropped considerably.  The hands were called aft.  A
fore-staysail was set on the mizen-mast--the helm was put down and the
ship brought-to under it.  The most necessary part of the rigging being
also replaced, the ship's company was divided into four watches, and all
but the watch on deck were sent below to sleep.  Never did weary seamen
turn in with a greater good-will, or more require rest.

All hands had ample occupation the next day in unbending the remnants of
our tattered canvas from the yards and in replacing it with a new suit
of sails fore and aft, in reeving new running rigging, and in repairing
the stern frame.  All this was done with a tolerably fresh breeze
blowing and a pretty heavy sea running, though moderate in comparison to
what we had had and to what we were to encounter.  This sort of weather
continued till the 15th, during which interval we contrived to get
things a little to rights.  Gale number three now sprung up, and during
the whole of it we lay under a balanced mizen.  We did not escape,
however, without damage, losing the bumkins and the remaining part of
the carlings and rails of the head, and a part of the starboard
quarter-gallery.  The wind lulled again in the evening and continued
moderate till the 19th, when it breezed up once more for the fourth
time, and by the 21st we were in the centre of a perfect hurricane.
Still nothing would induce our captain to run back or to endeavour to
make his way across the Atlantic in a more southerly latitude.  He had
made up his mind that this northerly route was the right one to take,
and he was not a man to be diverted from his purpose.  The gale had been
blowing for some hours, when at about one o'clock in the morning watch,
the night being dark as Erebus, the ship pitching heavily into the seas
and straining terrifically, Delisle and I were on deck together,
endeavouring to pierce with our eyes the thick obscurity into which we
were driving.  It was much of a time for moralising, considering the
showers of snow which ever and anon beat into our faces, the sheets of
spray which came aboard and froze as it fell over us, and the biting
wind which blew down our throats.

"No unapt picture this, of the life of many of us, Hurry," said my
companion.  "Here have we been knocking about for some weeks very much
the worse for wear--no nearer our voyage's end, and utterly unable to
say whither we are driving.  I doubt much that we have seen the worst
yet."  Scarcely had he spoken when a gust stronger than ever struck the
ship.  We felt her quiver and shake all over, and at the same instant
there was a terrific crash forward.  I hurried to see what had occurred.
The foremast had been carried away about twenty feet above the
forecastle, and lay over the lee fore-chains.  The captain was on deck
in a moment, and all hands were called to clear the wreck.  In doing
this the main-topmast-stay was cut, and thereby the main-topmast was
carried away, severely wounding in its fall nine men.  The poor fellows
were borne below and placed under the surgeon's care.  The morning came
and showed us our sad condition; but the gale had not yet sufficiently
shorn us of our pride or tried to the full our captain's perseverance,
for soon after daybreak another gust struck us.  I looked up to see what
was next to happen.  Before me stood our stout mainmast.  Then, as if
wrenched by a giant's grasp, the shrouds and stays were torn away, and
with a loud crash down it came by the board, crushing the booms,
gallows, bits, gangway-rails, and the fore part of the quarter-deck, and
staving in the long-boat and a large cutter so as to destroy them
completely.  The daylight enabled those on deck to stand from under in
time to escape injury; but it was a work of time, danger, and difficulty
to clear the ship of the wreck, for while we were engaged in it the sea
was constantly breaking over us fore and aft, threatening every instant
to engulph the ship.  At the same time we were in momentary expectation
of seeing the mizen-mast share the fate of the other masts.  At length,
having cleared the wreck, we hoisted a fore-topgallant-sail to the stump
of the foremast, which we stayed up as well as we could, and were
thereby able to keep the ship once more before the wind, though even
then the heavy seas which followed us threatened every moment to break
aboard.  We were truly in a forlorn condition--with our fore and
mainmasts gone, two suits of sails carried away with the exception of
the sails on the mizen-mast, the remainder required for jury-sails
whenever the weather would allow us to erect jury-masts--with numbers of
the crew falling sick from exposure and excessive fatigue, and with a
ship strained and battered in every direction.  At length, the wind
getting round to the westward, with unequivocal reluctance Captain
Hudson resolved to bear up, to the very great satisfaction of everybody
else on board.  We were then four hundred and sixty leagues from the
Lizard.  For several days more the gale continued, and we were all in
expectation of shortly reaching England and getting a thorough refit,
when the weather suddenly became more moderate than heretofore.  The
opportunity was immediately taken of erecting jury-masts, and all hands
were employed on this important work.  To do this we had to use all the
studden-sail-booms and spare spars on board.  When completed and set up,
they were pronounced to be equal if not superior to any ever before
under similar circumstances fitted at sea.  The captain looked at them
with no little satisfaction, and complimenting the ship's company on
what had been done, called the officers aft, and informed them that he
was resolved to attempt once more to reach the coast of America.  Had
there been a war with France, we should have been eager to get to our
station, but as we expected to have little enough to do in putting down
the American rebellion, I cannot say that our captain's announcement was
received with any great satisfaction.  For several days we made
tolerably fair progress, but on the 2nd of December a gale of wind
sprang up, and carried away our jury-main-topmast and top-yard, and
split the sail from clew to earing.  During the whole of this month the
weather continued as boisterous as at the commencement.  Disaster
followed disaster in quick succession.  Among others, we lost four
top-masts, six topsail-yards, one mainsail and one foresail, two
topsails and one fore-topsail, besides which the cover of the arm-chest
fell out of the mizen-top, and, striking the gunner, knocked out four of
his teeth, broke his shoulder in two places, and cut his right eye in
the most shocking manner.  He was carried below in great agony, and his
life was despaired of.  I need not mention any more of the accidents we
encountered.  It may be supposed that by this time we were in a
tolerably forlorn condition, with nearly every yard of our spare canvas
expended, and with scarcely a spar remaining to replace our jury-masts,
should they be carried away.  Unpleasant, however, as was our position,
I must say that we respected our captain for his perseverance, though it
had become the pretty generally received opinion on board, both fore and
aft, that we were destined never to reach our station.  All sorts of
stories were going the round of the decks.  An old woman near Plymouth,
Mother Adder-fang she was called, had been heard to declare, two nights
before the ship went out of harbour, that not a stick of the Orpheus
would ever boil a kettle on English ground.  Another was said to have
cursed the ship and all on board.  Then we had a fine variety of Flying
Dutchman's tales, till the men began to look upon the captain as a sort
of Vanderdecken himself, and to fancy, I verily believe, that we were
destined ourselves to box about till the day of judgment.  Now of course
a man of calm sense should be uninfluenced by these sort of tales--we
should be well assured that God only knows the future, and that words of
anger, uttered by a wicked, ignorant old woman, cannot possibly alter
His determination; still, when a man is worn out with fatigue, hardship
and hunger, when the gale howls fiercely, and the raging seas appear
every instant ready to engulph the ship, he cannot help thinking of the
words he has heard and the stories which have been told him, and looking
forward with sad forebodings to the future.

In spite, however, of the raging storm, the battered condition of the
ship, and the predictions of disaster, we jolly Orlopians resolved not
to be baffled in keeping our Christmas dinner in the accustomed manner
as far as circumstances would allow.  Our means for so doing were
certainly not very extensive, either with regard to our condiments or
the utensils for serving them in.  The greater part of our crockery had
been broken in the previous gales, and all our luxuries had long been
consumed.  We managed, however, to exhibit a dish of boiled beef at one
end of the table, and one of boiled pork at the other, and a tureen of
peas-soup and a peas-pudding; while our second course was a plum-pudding
of huge dimensions, and solid as a round-shot--the whole washed down
with a bowl of punch.  Our seats were secured to the deck, and the
dishes were lashed to the table, while it required no small amount of
ingenuity and rapidity to convey each mouthful from our plates to our
mouths.  Never did the good ship tumble and roll about more violently
than she did on that 25th of December, while we young gentlemen were
drinking "sweet-hearts and wives," and other appropriate toasts.  Let my
readers picture us to themselves, if they can, as we sat, each member of
the mess holding on like grim death to either a dish, or bowl, or can,
or mug, endeavouring, often in vain, to keep the contents from spilling,
and then to carry a portion of them to his mouth, our voices now
clattering away together, now one of us breaking forth into a song, and
joined in chorus by the rest, the ship rolling and pitching, the
bulkheads creaking and groaning, and the wind howling overhead.  The
contrast between the picture we presented and the dining-room of a
comfortable, well-lighted country-house in England on the same day was
not small.

Our condition was not improved when at length the year 1776 commenced.
We had expended all our sails with the exception of those actually bent
to the yards; of spars we had scarcely one remaining.  In consequence
also of the great expenditure of provisions and stores, the ship had
become so light that she rolled excessively and with so quick and rapid
a motion that some of the guns in the galley, drawing their ring-bolts
from the side, broke loose, and before they could be secured committed
much damage.  Added to all this it was announced that our supply of
water was very short, and we were put on an allowance of a pint for each
person.  On these occasions the captain and the smallest boy share
alike.  If any of us breakfasted or dined in the gun-room or cabin, we
carried with us our allowance of water to help make the tea.  We were
still fully four hundred leagues from the coast, and to all appearances
as little likely to make it as we had been a month back.  The officers
were unanimous in their opinion that we should bear up for the West
Indies, but Captain Hudson still resolved to persevere and to endeavour
to gain our intended port.  Though I, like the rest, was heartily sick
of the life we had been enduring, and longed as much as anybody to get
into port, I could not help admiring the perseverance and determination
of our captain.  Grave and anxious as he could not help appearing at
times, he did his utmost generally to assume a cheerful countenance, and
by words of encouragement to keep up the spirits of the men.  As,
however, one after the other the people fell sick, and disaster upon
disaster overtook us, I more than once, when I went into the cabin,
found him sitting pale and silent at the table, with his head resting on
his hand, evidently meditating on the responsibilities of his position.

Meantime the men forward were grumbling and evincing no slight mutinous
disposition.  "Here, old ship, do ye see, have we been boxing about for
the best parts of two months, and for what we knows to the contrary,
farther off from our port than ever we were," I heard one of the
quartermasters, Jos Lizard, observing to a messmate, another old salt of
the same kidney.  Old Jos, as he was called, was somewhat of a sea
lawyer in his way, though not the less superstitious on that account.

"Well, what's to be done, mate?" asked his chum, Ben Goff.

"Done!" exclaimed old Jos; "why, I axes, are we to go knocking our heads
against Providence, so to speak, till we've no water and no grub, and
then to rot away, as I've heard of a ship's company doing, and one left
to tell about it!"

"No, old salt, I wouldn't for one wish to do that same; but how's it to
be helped?" asked Goff.

"Helped!" said Lizard, with a look of scorn, "helped! why, let's go aft
to the captain, and tell him our mind.  Either we bears up for a port,
or let the ship sink at once; it's only what we must come to at last.
We'll get the rum casks on deck, and have a regular jollification of it
first.  Then no matter what turns up, we sha'n't know much about it."

I well knew the horrible folly seamen are capable of, so I thought it
best to put a stopper at once on the precious notion old Jos had got
into his head.  I therefore presented myself suddenly before the two
men.  "You're a couple of donkeys, to talk such nonsense as you've just
been doing!"  I exclaimed, in a contemptuous tone.  "Do you think two
ignorant old fellows like you know better than the captain what ought to
be done?  Let me hear no more about it.  I am not going to report what I
overheard, and if you catch any of the other men talking the game sort
of stuff, just let them know what fools they are."  I felt that it would
not do to reason with the men, but that I should have a better chance of
putting them off this notion by making them feel ashamed of themselves,
and this I think I succeeded in doing.  I cannot say, however, that I
felt very sanguine as to the termination of the voyage.

What the temper of the crew might at length have led to, I don't know,
but at last we got a slant of fair wind and moderate weather, and it was
announced that we were within twelve leagues of Cape Sambro, near the
entrance of the harbour of Halifax.  As may be supposed, there was great
rejoicing on board; all our troubles and misfortunes were forgotten, and
we fully expected to be in harbour the next day.  That night Delisle and
I were on deck together.  Kennedy also was there, and little Harry
Sumner.  Mr Gaston, the third lieutenant, had charge of the watch.  We
were congratulating ourselves on the turn which fortune had made in our
favour, when Delisle called my attention to a thick gloom which was
gathering over the land.  We pointed it out to Mr Gaston, and asked him
what it signified.

"That we are going to have another gale, which may drive us farther to
the southward than we have hitherto been," he replied.

Scarcely had he spoken than the first indications of the coming wind
reached us--a rising sea and a driving shower of sleet--the helm was put
up, and the ship kept before the wind, and then down came the gale upon
us, and once more we were driving before it, surrounded by dense sheets
of snow, which prevented us from seeing a yard beyond our bowsprit end.
Away we went during the whole of the next day and night and the
following day, driving madly before the gale.  If the ship's company had
before this been full of forebodings of coming ill, it is not surprising
that they should now have entirely abandoned all hope of ever again
seeing land.  On the 25th of January we were eighty leagues from the
Cape, and more distressed than ever for masts, spars, sails, provisions,
and water.  So short, indeed, was our store of the latter necessary that
we were now put on an allowance of half a pint a day; so severe also was
the frost that we were compelled to throw hot water on the sails when
they were furled before we could set them.  The men more rapidly than
before fell sick day after day, and completely lost their spirits, and
it became the fashion when the watch turned out for them to inquire what
fresh accident had occurred.

At length one night, as I lay sleeping in my hammock, I was awoke by a
terrific noise.  I found that the ship was on her beam-ends.  There was
a rushing of water, a crashing of timbers, a splitting of sails, the
howling of wind, the cries and shrieks and stamping of men.  I felt
certain that the fatal and long-expected stroke had been given, and that
I and all on board were about to be hurried into eternity.  I have been
since in many a hard-fought battle, I have seen death in every form, but
I never felt its horrors so vividly as I did on that night.  I remained
in my hammock without attempting to dress, for I thought that I might as
well drown as I was, and I had not the remotest expectation of being
saved.  Still the water did not reach me, and at length I heard
Kennedy's voice rousing up the idlers to go on deck, and help take the
canvas off the ship.

"We've been in very great danger, and for some minutes I thought it was
all over with us," he observed: "we've brought her to, however, and she
may ride out this gale as she has done many others."

"I hope so," said I, springing up and putting on my clothes, while
Kennedy hurried on deck.  I found that the chief noise had been caused
by a number of shot boxes breaking loose from the mainmast, and as the
ship heeled over, they came rushing under my hammock and crushing
everything before them.  I had no little difficulty in getting them
secured.  This appeared to be the last piece of malice those winter
gales had to play us.  The next day the weather moderated, and we were
able to lay a course for Halifax.  We could scarcely believe our senses
as we found ourselves entering that magnificent harbour, after our
protracted and disastrous voyage.  We had been out ninety seven days,
ten weeks of which time we had been under jury-masts.  Our only
squaresail was a spritsail at the main-yard to serve as a mainsail.  The
whole ship was covered with ice, and a most complete wreck she looked in
every respect.  We had the second lieutenant, gunner, and seventy-three
men sick, twenty of whom were suffering from frost-bites.  No wonder
that such was our condition when we had encountered no less than
forty-five heavy gales of wind, and it spoke well for the soundness of
the hull of our ship that she had held together so perfectly.  Our
captain, officers, and ship's company received the thanks of the
commander-in-chief for their perseverance and resolution, and certainly
no one deserved more credit than did our captain, for the determined way
in which he held on and succeeded in bringing his ship into harbour.

The next Sunday we all repaired to church, to return public thanks to
Almighty God for preserving us from the perils and hardships of the sea,
to which we had been so long exposed.  It was a solemn and touching
occasion.  Two and two, the captain at our head, and the officers
following with the ship's company, we all marched up together to the
church.  Thoughtless and careless about our spiritual being as we
generally were, I believe very few among us did not feel our hearts
swell with gratitude to the Great Being who had so mercifully watched
over and preserved us from the dangers to which we had been exposed,
when the minister gave forth the words of that beautiful hymn of
thanksgiving,--"The sea roared, and the stormy wind lifted up the waves
thereof.  We were carried up as it were to heaven, and then down again
to the deep; our soul melted within us because of trouble.  Then cried
we unto Thee, O Lord, and Thou didst deliver us out of our distress.
Blessed be Thy name, who didst not despise the prayer of Thy servants,
but didst hear our cry, and hast saved us.  Thou didst send forth Thy
commandment, and the windy storm ceased, and was turned into a calm."
The minister also gave us a sermon appropriate to the occasion, and most
deeply attentive to it were the greater part of the ship's company.
There is as much religious feeling about seamen as in any class of men,
though they are in general grossly ignorant of the doctrine of the
Gospel.  This is owing entirely to the wicked neglect of those of the
upper classes who ought to have seen that they were properly instructed.
I have, however, only to remark that it is the duty of the rising
generation, not to sit idly down, and with upturned eyes to abuse their
ancestors, but to arouse themselves, and by every means in their power
to remedy the neglect of which they were guilty.  The people seemed very
soon to forget the hardships they had endured, and I fear likewise that
the recollection of the mercies vouchsafed to us speedily passed from
our memories.



CHAPTER THREE.

HALIFAX HARBOUR.--LIFE IN THE BACKWOODS.--DANGEROUS EXPEDITION THROUGH
THE ICE.--LORD SHOULDHAM'S FLEET WITH LORD HOWE'S ARMY ARRIVES.--SAIL
FOR NANTUCKET ROADS.--BOSTON CANNONADED.--WATERING-PARTY ON SHORE.--
CAPTURE WHALING SLOOP RANGER.--CRUISE IN HER WITH GRAMPUS AND TOM
ROCKETS.--HER SKIPPER'S TRICK DEFEATED.--REACH HALIFAX.--ORDERED ON
BOARD CHATHAM.--SAIL FOR NEW YORK.--GENERAL WASHINGTON HOLDS POSSESSION
OF THE CITY.

The harbour of Halifax is a very fine one.  A thousand ships may anchor
there in safety.  It is our chief naval station in North America.  The
town, which is a handsome one, stands on a peninsula, and rises
gradually from the water's edge, where there are numerous wharves,
alongside which ships can lie to discharge their cargoes.  We found in
the harbour the Cerberus frigate, Captain Symonds, (see Note 1), hove
down alongside the wharf, as also the Savage sloop of war, wearing
Commodore Arbuthnot's broad pennant.

The inhabitants cordially welcomed our arrival, as they were in hourly
expectation of an attack from a body of rebels who were said to be
marching on the town, while the organised force existing for its defence
was very small.  At length an express arrived from the interior, stating
that the enemy were at the distance of about twenty miles, at a small
village of which they had taken possession.  We were instantly ordered
under arms to protect the dockyard, and fully expected to have warm
work.  The people who formed the rebel bands had been instigated to
revolt by the revolutionists of the southern colonies, who had formed a
plan at this time to invade Canada, which happily proved abortive.  They
themselves, as far as I could learn, had no real cause of complaint.

After we had waited for some time in expectation of an attack, notice
was brought us that the rebels had plundered and burned the village
where they had quartered themselves, and then retired.  We were
therefore able to employ all hands in refitting the ship, a work to us
of the greatest importance.  The cold, however, was so great that we
suffered no little inconvenience from exposure to it.  All the meat, I
remember, which came on board, was frozen so hard that we were
invariably obliged to cut it up into pieces with a cross-saw, to serve
it out to the messes.  Quantities of fish also of a peculiarly fine
flavour were to be picked up daily, frozen to death, on the surface of
the ice, thrown up by the united action of the tide and sea.  As there
were no masts and spars in the dockyard, we found that we should be
obliged to send a party into the woods, fully ten miles from the town,
to cut down trees suitable for the purpose.  I was ordered to accompany
the party appointed for this object.  My friend Delisle was with me, and
Tom Rockets went as my servant.

Having provided ourselves with blankets, provisions, cooking utensils,
and other means of making ourselves comfortable, away we trudged over
the snow, following our guide, John Nobs by name, who was to show us
where we might find the sort of timber we required.  It was the first
time I had ever been in an American forest.  The deep silence which
reigned around, and the perfect solitude were very impressive.  The tall
leafless trees, springing up out of the sheet of snow which covered the
whole face of nature, were the only objects to be seen.

We were merry enough as we tramped away in the keen, pure air over the
crisp snow.  As some thirty pair of feet, stepping out together, went
crunch--crunch--crunch--the noise was so loud, that we were obliged to
raise our voices to make ourselves heard.  Delisle and I marched
directly after our leader old Nobs, our men following, laughing,
talking, and singing, as the mood seized them.

At length, having gone some way through the forest, Nobs began to look
about him attentively.  He was not a man of many words.

"That's 'um," said he, pointing with his chin to some tall, straight
fir-trees, up to which he had led us.  We saw also that a considerable
number of the same description grew in the neighbourhood.

"I suppose, then, we may call a halt?" said I.

Nobs nodded.  We had been told that he would show us how to build some
huts for sheltering our party.

"Some on you with axes come along," said he, turning to the men, and
away he trudged till we reached a clump of graceful, white-stemmed
birch-trees.  Scoring down the stems, he quickly ripped off huge sheets
of bark, some five and six feet long, and two and three broad.  The men
followed his example, and we soon had as much as the whole party could
carry.

"Stay, that won't do alone," observed Nobs; and he commenced cutting
some thin poles, seven or eight feet long, from saplings growing in the
neighbourhood.  With these we returned to the spot we had fixed on for
an encampment.  Scarcely uttering a word, having got some men to assist
him, he erected a framework of a cone-shape, with about eight of the
poles, fastening the upper ends together with a piece of rope.  He then
covered the framework with sheets of bark, leaving a doorway and a small
space open at the top.

"There you have an Indian wigwam," said he.

From the pattern he had thus formed, the men very soon erected wigwams
enough to shelter the whole party.  He then collected some dried wood,
of which there was an abundance about, and lighted a fire in the middle
of his hut.  The hole left at the top of it allowed the smoke to escape.
The snow, which had first been cleared away in the interior, was
piled-up round the hut outside, and the ground was then beaten hard.  He
showed us how to make our couches of dried leaves; and at night, wrapped
in our blankets lying round the fire, we found that we could sleep most
luxuriously.

Having thus speedily made all these necessary arrangements, we set to
work to select the trees fit for our purpose.  As soon as we had fixed
on them, Nobs threw off all his outer clothing, and with his gleaming
axe began chopping away like a true backwoodsman at one of the largest
of the trees.  The carpenter's crew followed his example.  The air was
so calm that while the men were actively employed they felt not the
slightest sensation of cold.  The moment they ceased, however we made
them put on their clothing.

Nobs was thoroughly versed in all the customs of backwoodsmen, so he was
able to show us how to make ourselves comfortable, and I learned many
lessons from him which I, on many subsequent occasions, found very
useful.  Among other things he showed us how to roast our meat by
spitting bits of it on a long thin stick, which rested on two forked
sticks stuck in the ground.  Indeed, we enjoyed ourselves far more than
we expected.

Tom Rockets and another lad slept in our wigwam, to assist in keeping up
the fire.  I lay awake for a short time, when my ears were saluted with
the sound of a long, low howl.  I presently heard Tom stir himself.

"Oh, Jim, sure them be the ghostesses we heard tell of," said he.  "I
hope they won't be coming this way now."

"I hopes not," replied his companion.  "Them be dreadful things I do
think, by the noise they makes."

Just then there was a louder howl than before.

"Oh, they be coming!" cried Tom.  "I'll rouse up Mr Hurry.  Maybe he'll
know how to tackle 'em."

Highly diverted with the opinion my followers had formed of my prowess
against not only mortal but spiritual enemies, I lay still, wishing to
hear what he would next say.  The hideous howl approached still nearer.

"I can't stand it!" he exclaimed.  "Muster Hurry!  Muster Hurry! there
be ghostesses, or devils, or some such things abroad, a-playing of their
pranks, and they be coming to eat us up, Muster Hurry, I be sure!"

I burst into a fit of laughter, so loud that it woke Delisle.  It was
responded to, it seemed, by so unearthly a cry from the depths of the
forest, that even he for a moment was startled.  Then there was the
report of firearms, and looking out of our wigwam, I saw old Nobs
standing in front of his, with a musket in his hand.

"I've druve the varmints away," he said, in his usual laconic style.
"You may turn in, mister."

I took his advice, for it was very cold outside.

"The wolves will not probably disturb us again," said I, as I lay down.

"Wolves! be them wolves?"  I heard Tom remark; but as I soon fell
asleep, I do not know what more he said.

Towards the morning I was again awoke by loud shouts, and growls, and
cries, and the sound of a tremendous tussle.

"I've caught ye, my bo!"  I heard Tom exclaim.  "If ye be a ghost or a
devil, ye shall just show yourself to Muster Hurry, before I let ye go."

Starting up, I found the two lads struggling with some beast or other at
the entrance to the wigwam.  I soon discovered that they had got hold of
a black bear, who had doubtless been attracted to our wigwam by a pot of
sugar which had been left at the entrance, into which he was putting his
paw when Rockets discovered him.  The noise brought a number of the
other men from the huts.  They thought we were attacked by Indians or
the rebels, I believe.  The poor beast made a good fight of it; but
before I could come to his rescue, he had been somewhat severely
handled.  We, however, easily secured him, and kept him prisoner till we
settled what should be done with him.  He was, we learned from old Nobs,
of a species not at all ferocious, and very easily tamed.  We therefore
determined, instead of killing him in order to turn him into ham, to
carry him on board as a pet.  He very soon became reconciled to his lot,
and at once ate willingly from our hands any mess we offered,
particularly if sweetened with sugar.  Rockets considered him as his own
prize, and took him under his especial care.  The men gave him the name
of Sugar-lips, and as Tom stood his sponsor he was known on board as
Tommy Sugar-lips.

However, I must not spend more time on my shore adventures, as I have
matter of so much greater interest to describe.  In about five days we
had cut down and trimmed a sufficient number of trees for our purpose.
The greatest labour was to drag them over the snow to the harbour; but
at length that was accomplished, and we returned once more on board.

Shortly after this the frost set in harder than ever, but in consequence
of the rapidity of the tides the ice, though fully four feet thick, did
not form a consistent body in the harbour.  In some places it was hard,
but the chief quantity round the ship was like a mass of wet snow, too
soft and too rotten to walk on, and yet too thick to allow a boat of any
size to be impelled through it.  Thus all communication with the town
was suddenly cut off.  At this time we had a gang of men on the opposite
shore, fitting the rigging at a spot where they could procure no
provisions.  They were getting very hard up for food, when Captain
Hudson sent for me.

"Mr Hurry," said he, "I wish to send some provisions to the people on
shore.  It will be a service of difficulty, and perhaps danger, but I
can entrust it confidently to you; you must take a couple of hands and a
light boat, and you may be able to force her either over or through the
ice."

"Ay, ay, sir," I answered; "I'll do it if it is to be done."  And away I
went to make my preparations without loss of time.  I always felt an
inclination to volunteer for any work to be done, and never thought of
throwing difficulties in the way of the performance of any thing that
was proposed.  I chose Nol Grampus, the old quarter-master, and Tom
Rockets as my companions in the enterprise.  The dinghy, a small boat we
carried astern, was the best suited to my purpose.  Having laden her
with provisions, we shoved off from the ship among the floating ice.
Our progress was very slow, sometimes we worked our way among the sheet
ice, then we came to a hard slab on to which we jumped and hauled the
boat over it.  "Take care, sir," said Grampus, as we were crossing a
slab, "this is treacherous stuff we are on."  Just as he spoke I felt my
feet sinking into the slush, and had I not had firm hold of the gunwale,
I might have gone through altogether.  As I sprang into the boat I could
not help shuddering at the thought of sinking into the cold deadly mass
which surrounded us without the possibility of making an effort for
life; too dense to enable one to swim, and yet too liquid to bear the
weight of a person, it was as sure to destroy one as the treacherous
quicksand or the furious maelstrom.  Near us was another boat with an
old man and a boy, likewise endeavouring to cross the harbour.  We saw
that they were exerting all their energies, but were not making better
progress than we were.  After some time the tide made down stronger, and
on taking our bearings I found that the ice was setting us fast down the
harbour and out to sea.  My men needed no encouragement to exert
themselves to the utmost, for the peril we were in was very apparent.
Captain Hudson observed it also, and made the signal for us to return to
the ship, but it was even more difficult to go back than to go forward.
In attempting to obey the order I found that we were carried more into
the strength of the current.  I therefore kept on towards the wharf,
where some hundreds of people were collected, rather anxious spectators
of our adventure.  Captain Symonds, of the Cerberus, and the
master-attendant of the dockyard were looking on, and they also hailed
to me to return to the ship.  Sometimes we appeared to be making no
progress whatever, and I felt the probability of our being carried out
to sea--then again we advanced, though slowly, towards the shore.  The
old man and his boy were less able to contend with the difficulties
which surrounded them.  The old man had hurt himself, I fancy, and by
degrees relaxed in his efforts--the poor little fellow was still putting
forth all his strength to urge their boat forward, but it was too
evidently likely to prove unavailing.

At last they slowly drifted past us, and though at so short a distance
that I could clearly see the expression of their countenances we could
render them no possible assistance.  I shall not quickly forget the poor
old man's look of despair and grief--more perhaps for the coming fate of
his boy than for himself.  The poor lad had not yet given up all hopes
of escape.  Now he would sit down and wring his hands, and then he would
start up, and, seizing an oar, try once more to shove the boat ahead.
We had little time, however, for contemplating their fate, for there was
still a great probability that we might have to share it.  We were yet
drifting seaward, and for hours together our utmost exertions only
enabled us to hold our own.  I can easily fancy the interest we excited
on shore, yet nothing could be thought of to help us.  We could hear the
cry of horror and commiseration which rose from the crowd as the boat
with our companions in misfortune drifted past the spot whence there was
any hope of escape, and the old man and lad sat down and gave themselves
up to despair.  The intense cold would, I guessed, soon deprive them of
all sensation and further power of exertion.  Night was coming on, and
we lost sight of them in the gloom.  We had now been six hours in our
perilous position, without time even to take a particle of nourishment.
We were making for the Cerberus as the nearest point where we could
receive assistance.

"We shall reach her, sir!" exclaimed Grampus at length, with a cheerful
tone.  "See, they are ready to heave us a line if we could but get a few
fathoms nearer."  Encouraged by this, we exerted ourselves still more
than ever, and at length a man from the jibboom end of the Cerberus hove
a lead which happily reached our boat.  We seized it eagerly, and making
the line fast, we were hauled alongside the wharf.  As soon as we landed
and had received the congratulations of the spectators of our adventure,
we were carried off, half-starved and frozen, by the master-attendant,
Mr Prowse, to his house; where we were most hospitably entertained.  I
found in him an old shipmate, as he had been master of the Torbay when I
belonged to her.  I spent upwards of two days at his house, and received
the greatest of kindness from him.  While on shore I met another old
friend, Captain Lee, of the Harriet Packet, with whom I almost lived
during his stay at Halifax.  As may be supposed, I found his comfortable
cabin a far more agreeable place of abode than a midshipman's berth with
the rough and scanty fare with which we were provided.  I was anxious to
ascertain the fate of the old man and his son whom we had seen carried
out to sea by the ice.  Sad to relate, they had been picked up two days
afterwards at the mouth of the harbour, frozen to death.  They must have
died, I suspect, soon after we lost sight of them, for the cold was so
intense that it could not long have been resisted.  We had, indeed,
cause to be thankful to providence that their fate was not ours.  It is
but one of the many instances in which I have been mercifully preserved,
while those by my side have been cut off.  For what end has this been
done?  I wish that I could say that I have properly employed the longer
term of life thus vouchsafed to me.  There had been at Halifax all the
winter a very limited supply of provisions.  At length a fleet appeared
off the harbour's mouth, which proved to be that under the command of
Admiral Lord Shouldham, with the army of General Howe on board, (see
Note 2), who had been compelled by the American revolutionists, under
General Washington, to evacuate Boston, after having been besieged in it
for fully ten months.  It will be remembered that we parted from the
Chatham, Admiral Shouldham's flag-ship, in a gale in the early part of
our voyage.  She went through as much bad weather, and experienced
almost as many disasters as we had suffered, though at length she
reached Boston, where Lord Shouldham succeeded Admiral Graves as
Commander-in-Chief.  Our disasters throughout the whole of that sad
contest with the American States arose from the foolish contempt with
which the British generals and their officers treated the provincial
troops.  While General Howe was waiting for reinforcements from England,
General Washington was collecting an army and disciplining his troops.
Before, therefore, the expected reinforcements could arrive, General
Howe, to his great surprise, found himself outnumbered, and the city
commanded from some hills which overlook it, called Dorchester Heights.
He found that he must either dislodge the enemy from these heights or
evacuate Boston.  A heavy gale of wind prevented the adoption of the
former alternative till the rebels were too strongly entrenched to allow
the attempt to be made with any prospect of success.  A hurried retreat
was therefore resolved on, and not only the troops, but those of the
inhabitants who had sided with the British, were compelled to embark on
board the men-of-war and transports, vast quantities of military stores
and property of all sorts being either destroyed or left behind, to fall
into the hands of the enemy.  This fleet had arrived ill provided with
provisions to feed so many mouths, and from there being, as I have said,
but a scanty supply of food in Halifax already, it was considered
necessary to put the army and navy on half allowance--an arrangement to
which, though very disagreeable, we were compelled to submit with the
best grace we could muster.  From the time of our arrival till the 4th
of May we were busily occupied in fitting the ship for sea, and not an
hour was lost after that was accomplished, in getting under weigh, when
we stood to the southward.  We were not sorry to have the chance of
seeing some active service.  On the 8th we spoke HMS Merlin, with two
transports bound for Halifax, on the 12th the Milford and Lively, on a
cruise.  On the same day we anchored in Nantucket Roads, Boston, where
we found lying the Renown, wearing the broad pennant of Commodore Banks,
which we saluted with thirteen guns.  A constant cannonade was kept up
on the squadron by the rebels who now held Boston and the surrounding
heights, but without doing us much mischief.  We returned the fire
occasionally with probably about the same result.  After their late
successes the American patriots had become very bold, and no longer held
the British in any respect.  Some parts of the coast of the harbour were
left unprotected by the enemy.  One night I was sent on shore in command
of a watering-party, with strict orders to keep a watchful guard against
surprise.  To do this I considered it necessary to take possession of a
house near the spot where we were filling the casks.  As the house was
deserted I carried off a table and six chairs which I found in it, with
which to furnish the midshipman's berth--ours having been knocked to
pieces on the voyage to Halifax.

By the rules of war I had a right to take the property, I believe, but
it seems hard that the owners, who were probably not belligerents,
should be deprived of it.  On the following day, the 15th, we sailed on
a cruise in search of any of the enemy's merchantmen or privateers, of
which they had begun to fit out a good many.  The crews ran a great risk
of being treated as pirates, but as the rebels had already threatened to
retaliate, should the usual customs of regular warfare be departed from,
it was judged prudent to behave towards those who fell into our hands as
if they were regular prisoners of war.

We had begun to grumble much at our ill-luck in not falling in with
prize.  "Ye'll na take anything which will put siller into any of our
pockets this cruise, ma laddies," said Andrew Macallan, the Scotch
surgeon's mate, who was much addicted to the prophesying of ill-luck.

We Orlopians were collected in the midshipman's berth towards the
termination of a not over-luxurious dinner.  "I should think not,"
responded Kennedy.  "What can we expect to get out of these beggarly
provincials?  It's not likely they'll have any craft afloat which will
be worth capture."

"How do you know that?" exclaimed Frank Mercer, one of our mates, with a
deep crimson flush on his brow.  "Now, from what I have heard, I believe
the patriots have a number of fine merchantmen sailing out of their
ports, and have already fitted out several privateers."

"From which of your friends on shore did you hear that?" asked Kennedy,
with a look of contempt.

"From common report," replied Mercer.  He was known to have several
relations and friends in America who had sided with the rebels, and
though this made him look on them with a favourable eye, he had too
loyal a spirit to allow him to contemplate for a moment the desertion of
his colours.  Still his heart often yearned towards those engaged in
what then appeared so unequal a struggle on shore, and he could scarcely
help expressing satisfaction at any success they met with.  Poor Mercer
had to endure a great deal of irony and abuse on the subject, but while
he defended the rebels, and asserted their right to take up arms in the
defence of their liberties, he acknowledged that his own duty was to
remain loyal to his sovereign.  The dispute was waxing warm, when little
Harry Sumner, who had been on deck, came below, and announced that there
was a suspicious sail away to the north-east, and that we were in chase
of her.  I was on deck in a minute, and found everything being set alow
and aloft in chase of the stranger.  After watching her for some time
from aloft, where I had gone with my spy-glass, I saw that we were
gaining on her rapidly, though she had also made all sail.  This
convinced us that she was a craft belonging to the enemy.  She was
sloop-rigged, but seemed to be a vessel of some size.  After a chase of
four hours we got her within range of our guns, when a shot from one of
our bow-chasers, falling close alongside, convinced her that she had no
chance of escape, and that her wisest policy was to heave-to without
more ado.  This she at once did, and I was sent on board to take
possession.  She proved to be the Ranger, from Nantucket harbour, bound
on a whaling voyage, her crew consisting of a master, mate, boy, and ten
men.  Her master, Mr Jotham Scuttle, was very indignant at being
captured, and good reason he had to be so, for half the vessel was his
own, and thus in a moment he was deprived of all his worldly wealth.  He
was as unlike a seaman in appearance as could well be imagined; with his
broad-brimmed hat, knee-breeches, buckles to his high shoes, and long
waistcoat, but he was not the less active for all that.  Leaving
Grampus, who had accompanied me, with two hands in charge of the sloop,
I returned with the prisoners to the frigate.  The mate and men were
instantly pressed, without the question being asked whether they would
wish to join, and Captain Hudson ordered me to go back to the sloop,
giving me leave to carry Tom Rockets, in addition to the men already on
board, and to make the best of my way to Halifax.  "Stay," said he,
"take the master and boy with you, Mr Hurry; we shall not know what to
do with them on board--and see that he plays you no trick."  I laughed
at the idea of having anything to dread from the demure Mr Scuttle,
and, putting up a few necessaries, I tumbled into the boat which was to
take me on board my new command.  I thought I caught a twinkle in friend
Jotham's eyes when he found that he was to be sent back to his own
vessel--but this was probably fancy.  He sat looking very sad and
downcast as we pulled on board the sloop.  The crew of the boat which
had brought me gave me three cheers, and Delisle, who had come in her,
wished me a prosperous voyage to Halifax, from which I was about two
hundred leagues distant.  The frigate then hauled her wind, and I made
sail to the northward.  Of course I felt very grand in my new command,
like Sancho Panza in his island, though it was not to last very long at
the utmost; and it was not impossible that I might be summarily
dispossessed of it at any moment; however, I did not trouble myself
about such thoughts just then.  Having taken possession of the master's
cabin, and allowed him to occupy his mate's, I called my ship's company
together, and, having divided them into two watches, told them I
expected they would do their duty and behave themselves.  Nol Grampus
had charge of one watch with one of the seamen and Mr Scuttle under
him, and I took the other with the other seaman, Tom Rockets and the
boy.  Tom had not got over his innocent country look, though he was
sharp enough in reality, and did his duty as a seaman very fairly.  Old
Grampus, who had taken a fancy to him, was always teaching him something
or other likely to prove useful.  "Now, Tom, you may be no wiser nor a
young gull as has never learned to fly," I heard the old man say; "but
listen, my boy, if you follows my advice you'll soon be able to spread
your wings and skim over the water just for all the world like one on
them big albatrosses one meets with off the Cape of Good Hope, you've
heard speak of."  Tom had not heard of such a place, so Grampus told him
all about it, and a great deal more besides.  In that way my young
follower picked up his sea lore.  The contrast between the two was
perfect.  Tom's young, smooth, innocent face, and round boyish figure,
and the thorough old sea-dog look of Grampus, with his grizzly bushy
hair and whiskers, his long cue, his deeply-furrowed, or I may say
rather bumped and knobbed and bronzed countenance, and his spare, sinewy
form, having not a particle of flesh with which he could dispense.

As Mr Jotham Scuttle's eye fell on Tom he took him at once for a simple
lad, who could readily believe anything he had to say, and he formed his
plans accordingly.  I got on very well with my scanty crew, for as there
were winches and tackles of all sorts on board, I managed to work the
vessel easily enough.  We had an abundance of provisions, so that,
contrasted especially with the fare to which I had for many months past
been accustomed, we lived luxuriously.

The second day I invited Mr Scuttle to dine with me.  The commencement
of the entertainment was not very lively, for though he did not play a
bad knife and fork, he uttered no sound except an occasional deep sigh
from beneath the very lowest button of his waistcoat.  At last, after
leaning his head on his hand for some time, he looked up.

"It is very hard to be borne, mister," he exclaimed with vehemence.
"Here was I, with a fine craft I could almost call my own, and with
every chance of providing for my family, and now I'm worse than a
beggar--a prisoner, and forced to go I don't know where."

"You shouldn't have broken the blockade, and your friends shouldn't have
rebelled and broken the laws," said I.

"Laws!" he exclaimed with disdain, "they were bad laws, and it went
against the grain of every honest man to observe them."

"I don't know anything about that," I replied; "in my profession all we
have to do is to obey without asking questions, and I just fancy that
your people will very soon have to do the same, whether they like it or
not."

"Will they, forsooth?" he exclaimed, striking his fist on the table.
"The time has passed for that.  I'll tell you what, sir, they'll fight
it out till every drop of honest blood is spilt in the country.  It was
the supercilious, boasting airs of your lords and aristocrats who came
out among the military looking down upon all the first gentlemen in the
land as provincials and colonists, as they called them in contempt,
which was the real cause of the revolt.  They made enemies wherever they
went, with their follies and pride and haughty words.  They and their
government at home seemed to forget that we were Britons like
themselves, with British hearts, ay, and with truer loyalty than they
had for the king and the old country.  What would you say, sir, if you
were insulted as we have been?"

"I certainly do not like being bullied by anyone," said I.

"No more do we colonists, sir," answered the poor skipper.  "My father,
sir, came over from the old country; misfortunes compelled him to quit
it, but he loved it as much as ever, and brought up me, his son, to love
it also; and so I should to this day, had I, and those who had made
America their own, been fairly treated--not looked upon as children to
be played with, or slaves to be bullied and despised.  Now, sir," he
continued, standing up and placing one hand on the table, while he
extended the other, "I tell you that there are not bitterer enemies to
the old country than your government have made me and many like me."

"I am very sorry for you," I said, seeing the justice of his remarks,
"but you see I cannot help it, so just sit down and mix yourself another
tumbler of grog; we can but make the best of circumstances."

"I don't want your pity, or that of any of the enemies of America," he
answered proudly.  Then he seemed to soften, and he continued in a more
subdued tone, "But you, young gentleman, seem inclined to treat me as a
man should a man, and not as some of your officers have treated us
provincials, so I am thankful, and if the day should come when I can
return your kindness I shall be glad to do so."

"I only hope that I may not be in your place as a prisoner," said I.

"To be honest with you," he replied, "if I only had the chance of taking
the sloop from you, I should be right not to let it pass by, though I
have no great hope that it will be offered me."

"No, I should think not," I answered, laughing.  I have often since
thought of the foolish, domineering way in which England and Englishmen
treat their brethren who turn colonists, and shall not be surprised if
she loses one colony after another as she was now doing her American
settlements.  The skipper was soon pacified, and we became very good
friends.  We were still talking away over our glass of grog, when Nol
Grampus put his head in at the cabin-door.

"I don't quite like the look of the weather, Mr Hurry," said he.  "I
think it's going to breeze up a bit, and the sooner we shorten sail the
better."

I jumped up and went on deck, when I saw that he was right.  We
accordingly at once made all snug.  Thick clouds were banking up from
the westward and southward, which soon rushing on like a vast army
sweeping over a devoted country, deluged us with rain, bringing a heavy
breeze, which kicked up no small amount of sea.  The wind keeping to the
southward of west we could lay our course, so on we went pitching and
tumbling before it in no very pleasant manner for several days.

Fortunately the Ranger was well found in every respect, and, proving a
very good sea-boat, showed that the men of Nantucket knew what was the
best economy in the end.  She was newly painted, and had sixteen ports,
so that at a distance she had a somewhat formidable appearance; but as
they had no guns to them, though she could grin, she could not even
bark, much less bite.  If, therefore, we fell in with an enemy I saw
that, should we not be able to escape by flight, we should in all
probability be captured.  I had observed that my friend the skipper had
been in better spirits than at first.  He spoke frankly to me, as he did
to the crew, and seemed to be on good terms with everybody.  He was
evidently a clever man--full of resources of all sorts--above his
station I should say.  He had been brought up as a farmer, and had never
been afloat till within the last six or seven years.  He was now no
contemptible sailor.  His next move would probably be to some totally
different sphere, where he would take a step higher in the social scale.
Such is the career of many a New Englander.

I had turned into my berth, after keeping the morning watch some days
after this, when, as I awoke, I saw Tom Rockets moving about in the
cabin.

"What do you want, Tom?"  I asked.

"Hist, sir," he whispered, "I've just a word to speak to you."

"Out with it then, my man," I said.

"It's just about that strange skipper, sir."

"Well, go on."

"He's been talking to me, and asking if I wouldn't like to go and settle
in a land of liberty, and make my fortune, and no longer be subject to
be starved and flogged and ill-treated on board of a man-of-war?"

"And what did you say, Tom?"  I asked.

"I told him just simply like that I belonged to you, that I would follow
wheresoever you went, and that if you thought fit to go and settle in
his country, I'd have no objection to go too."

"That was right, Tom.  If he speaks to you again, give him the same sort
of answer.  Don't let him suppose you are offended.  Has he spoken with
either of the other men?"

"With all except Grampus; but I don't think he has made much way with
them.  The old man, I fancy, sir, guesses what he's after, and has his
eye on him," answered Tom.

"All right, then, my lad.  Keep your eyes about you, and let me know any
thing you observe, but don't allow the skipper to find out that we
suspect him."

Tom promised to follow my directions, and I sent him on deck while I
turned out and dressed.  I treated Mr Scuttle just as if he were not
plotting against me, for forewarned, I felt myself fore-armed, and had
no fear that he could do me any harm.

That day the wind fell considerably and we again had fair weather.  The
next morning, while I was at breakfast, old Nol hailed down the
sky-light--

"Would you just come on deck for a moment, sir?" said he.

"What is it?"  I asked.

"There's a sail away to the south-west, and I don't quite like the looks
of her," answered the old man.

I jumped on deck in a moment.  I was not long in making out a brig under
all sail holding the same course we were on.  As I took the glass from
my eye I found Scuttle standing by my side.

"What do you think of her?"  I asked.

"Maybe she's a whaler, or maybe a sealer, or a merchantman from one of
the provincial ports, or maybe a transport with British red-coats
aboard; but, Mr Hurry, it requires a man with a longer sight than I've
got to tell just now what she is," said the skipper, in the long
drawling tone of a New Englander.

I thought that there was something ironical in his tone as he spoke, and
that he more than probably knew perfectly well all about the stranger.

"Whatever she may be," I answered, "I'll show her my heels.  Make all
sail, Grampus."

"Ay, ay, sir," he replied; and in a short time, the skipper pulling and
hauling with as good a will as the rest, we had every stitch of canvas
packed on the sloop which she could carry.  I fancied, however, that the
skipper gave a knowing look at me as he went forward, as much as to say,
"You may make all the sail you like, but it won't do."  At all events, I
soon found that the Ranger, though a very good sea boat, was a tub in
regard to sailing, under-rigged especially, as she was, for greater
convenience in handling.

The stranger was walking up to us fast.  As the morning sun fell on her
sails they appeared to me very white, and to have a wide spread, and I
began to hope that she might prove an English man-of-war brig.  Another
two hours, however, banished any such hopes, and I was convinced, on
looking at Jotham Scuttle's countenance, that she was likely to prove
his friend, but my enemy.

"What do you think of her now, Mr Scuttle?"  I asked.

"She's a brig," he answered innocently.

"Anyone can see that with half an eye," said I; "but what is she?  Where
does she hail from?"

"Well, then, maybe she hails from a provincial port," he answered
slowly.  "I should not be very much surprised, too, if she carries
guns."

"A rebel privateer or pirate, in fact," said I.

"An American privateer, if you please, sir, I have no doubt she is," he
replied; "in two or three hours, I guess, you will find it safer to call
her so, at all events."

"Well, well, we will see about that," I remarked, laughing at his
coolness, though I began to entertain no slight apprehension that I was
about to lose my prize and to become a prisoner into the bargain.

"They've got their new-fangled flag a-flying from their peak, sir," said
Grampus, stepping up.

On looking through my glass I made out the star-and-stripe covered
ensign, just then begun to be carried by provincial vessels, flying out
proudly from her gaff end; while several ports at her side left me no
longer in doubt that she was an enemy most devoutly to be wished away.
Do everything I could, however, to increase the speed of the Ranger, she
rapidly came up with us.  Still it was not in my nature to give in while
a chance remained of escape.  Some man-of-war might heave in sight, or
some other craft the privateer might think more worthy of chasing; or we
might keep ahead till darkness came to my help.  The chances were,
however, very small in my favour, and Mr Scuttle could not help showing
his satisfaction at the prospect of the probable change in our fortunes.
I went aloft and swept the horizon with my glass in every direction,
but not a sail appeared in sight.  The breeze held steady, and indeed
seemed rather inclined to increase than fall.  My heart sank lower than
it had ever done before.  In another hour my people and I would be
prisoners, and Mr Jotham Scuttle would be offering me his
commiseration.  He was speaking to my two men; doubtless telling them
they had nothing to fear.  I felt a very strong inclination at the
moment to pitch him overboard; I wanted some one on whom to vent my
vexation.  Poor man! however, there was in reality much to admire in
him.  In another half hour the game would be up.  Suddenly a bright idea
occurred to me.  I had often seen a poor silly creature followed by a
troop of urchins hallooing at his heels and mocking him with their
thoughtless jests, when he would turn round with clenched fists and
grinning lips, and they would take to an ignominious flight.  I would
try the effect of a similar trick.  Descending on deck, I ordered
Grampus to get lines fastened to all the ports, so that they might be
lifted at once.  As soon as the arrangement was made I put the sloop
about, and at the same moment, suddenly lifting all our ports--of which,
as I have said, we had eight on a side--under all sail, I stood boldly
down towards the enemy.  Still she stood on, and my heart began to quake
for the success of my manoeuvre.

"It can't be helped, sir, I fear," said Grampus.  "We are in for it."

"No, no," I exclaimed, with a shout of joy.  "It's all right.  Hurrah,
my lads!"  The brig had taken in her studden-sails and was standing away
from us, close-hauled on a wind.  I was so eagerly watching her that I
did not see what had become of friend Scuttle.  I was aroused by a cry
from Tom Rockets.

"Just you come down, master!" he exclaimed.

I looked up and caught sight of the skipper and his boy going aloft with
knives in their hands.  Their intention was obvious.  It was to cut the
halliards, and by letting the sails come down by the run, call the
attention of the brig to our true condition, and thus bring her back to
our capture.  Tom had got hold of the boy's leg, and I thought would
have jerked him overboard.  Grampus in a moment was after the master,
and before he had reached the cross-trees had hold of him, and,
wrenching the knife from his hand, had hove it overboard.  Whatever were
the thoughts and intentions of my two other men, they did not show any
inclination to side with the skipper.  He began to show fight and to
kick and struggle not a little, but Grampus had held on with his teeth
in too many a gale while close-reefing top-sails, not to be able to gain
the mastery.  With threats and very significant signs that he would
heave him overboard, he at length forced him down on deck.

"Now," said I, "Mr Scuttle, I should be justified in pistolling you on
the spot for the pretty trick you purposed playing me.  But I will not
injure you.  You gave me warning, I remember, what you would do, so, as
I believe you to be a man of honour, pass me your word that you will
attempt no further treachery and I will not injure you.  Otherwise, for
my own safety, I must clap you in limbo, and shoot you the moment I find
you again at any such game."

"It's very, very hard," he answered, folding his arms on his bosom and
looking wistfully at the brig, which still held her course away from us,
"to have thought that I should get back my vessel and see my family
again in a few days perhaps, and now to have all my hopes rudely swept
away from me!  It's hard--very, very hard!"

I really pitied the poor man and would on no account have injured him,
could I have avoided it.

"Well, Mr Hurry, luck's against me," he said at length.  "In all things
regarding the navigation of the vessel, I'll obey you faithfully till we
reach Halifax.  Then you have nothing more to fear from me."

I was sure that I could trust him.  "Then," said I, "go about your duty,
and I will take no notice of what has passed."

Grampus, Tom, and I cheered lustily as we saw the brig continuing to
stand away from us, and the men joined us, though I suspect the fellows
did not care much about the matter.  It was getting towards evening.  I
longed for darkness, for I never felt so anxious in my life.  I was
afraid every moment that the people of the brig might gain courage and
turn round upon us.  If so, we should be worse off than ever, as we
should not have a chance of escaping.  Friend Scuttle eyed the brig as
anxiously as I did, though with very different wishes.  Still we held
on, looking, I doubt not, very fierce, and the privateer's men must have
been no less anxious to get away from us than we were from them.  At
length evening approached, and never did I see the sun set with so much
satisfaction.  Gradually the shades of night crept over the ocean, and I
drew a long breath as the brig was lost to our sight in the thickening
gloom.  As soon as I was certain that we could not possibly be seen, I
ordered the sloop to be kept away, and once more made all sail to the
northward, altering my course a few points from that I had been steering
when first seen by the brig, lest she should by any chance be looking
after us in the morning.  Probably the privateer's men were
congratulating themselves at thus easily escaping from us.  As I gave
vent to my feelings in a hearty cheer the poor skipper exhibited his in
a deep groan, and then, having assisted in making sail, turned in to try
and forget his sorrows in sleep.  The weather continued fine till the
7th of the month, when I made the land about five leagues to the
westward of Halifax harbour.  Soon after this the wind fell and we had a
stark calm.  By Mr Scuttle's advice I fitted a couple of fishing-lines,
and in the course of an hour, with those two lines alone, caught one
hundred and twenty-four very fine cod.  They proved a welcome addition
to our usual salt-meat fare.  Those we could not eat fresh we split open
and dried in the sun, and they thus served us for food for several days.

"What do you think of the weather now, Grampus?" said I, after we had
been fishing for some time.

"I don't like its looks at all, sir," he replied.  "This is a ticklish
coast at all times, and one never knows what's coming."

"If you had asked me, I could have told you that we are going to have
wind, and fully enough of it," observed Mr Scuttle.

He had got into a mighty free-and-easy style of talking of late.  He was
perfectly right, though in addition to the wind, which sprung up
immediately afterwards, we got a thick fog, which totally obscured the
land.  I steered a course, however, which I hoped would carry us to the
harbour's mouth.  We ran on for some time and then hove-to, that we
might sound.  We had still plenty of water, so I stood on again.  At
last the fog lifted a little, when to my very great disgust I found that
we had run three leagues past the mouth of the harbour.  We endeavoured
to tack back, but before morning a heavy gale of wind sprung up directly
off shore.  It was impossible to beat up against it, so I stood to the
eastward all that day and night, under a try-sail and storm-jib.  During
this time the gale showed no signs of abating.  It was a good trial to
our tempers, at all events.  Grampus vowed that there was some old witch
in Halifax who must have taken a spite to us and was resolved to keep us
out of the harbour as long as she could.  He was devising all sorts of
plans for exorcising her, but none seemed likely to prove satisfactory.
In the morning, the weather moderating a little, I stood to the westward
under close-reefed mainsail and double-reefed foresail, and by the
evening reached at length the mouth of the harbour.  "There's many a
slip between the cup and the lip."  We were congratulating ourselves on
getting all snug at night, when once more the wind breezed up with a
thickish fog, and as we were then in only forty fathoms of water I was
obliged again to run to sea.  The bad weather kept me, as well as all
the people, on deck, for not knowing what might occur no one could
venture to go below.  Some time before daylight I once more hauled my
wind and beat up towards the land.  By the evening of the 10th we were
again in with Jabucta Head.  We then got soundings on a reef of rocks in
eight fathoms water, but so worn out was I and everybody on board that I
ordered the anchor to be let go, that we might turn in and get some
rest.  I fully expected to lose my anchor and cable, but when I came to
weigh at daylight the next morning I was fortunate enough to save them
both.  I now fully expected to get safe into harbour, but as I was
standing up Major's Reach I saw a Falmouth packet coming down.  The
temptation of speaking her and sending a message home was too great to
be resisted, so I stood over towards her.  As the sloop was going about
she missed stays near a dangerous reef, and to prevent her driving on
the rocks it was necessary to be quick in wearing.  In doing this the
boom came over with the whole main-sheet eased off, and carried it away
in six different places.  This accident compelled me to run from the
narrow channel and lost me the opportunity of speaking the packet.  Once
more making sail, and the wind favouring me, I got as high as George's
Island, when a sudden squall split my mainsail.  This compelled me to
bring up.  Manning a boat, I pulled up to Halifax to look out for the
prize agent, into whose hands I was to deliver the sloop.

I parted on the best of terms with Mr Jotham Scuttle.  He hoped to find
some friends in Halifax who would advance him money to enable him to buy
back the Ranger.

"If ever you come to Nantucket," said he, "ask for me, and if I'm on
shore there's no one will give you a more hearty welcome."

I promised that I would not forget his kind invitation, and, after a
hearty shaking of hands, I saw no more of him.

I found the whole town in a state of great commotion, as the immense
fleet there collected, of men-of-war and transports, with a large army
on board, were on the point of sailing, it was said, on an expedition
which would effectually crush the rebels and bring the American
provinces once more into complete subjection.  That I might not be left
behind I immediately reported myself to my Lord Shouldham.  His lordship
ordered me at once to come on board the Chatham, with my people.  I very
speedily returned to the Ranger and again got back to the Chatham.  I
was, however, rather ashamed of my outfit, as it was not very
appropriate to the atmosphere of a flag-ship, consisting, as it did, of
one old uniform suit, four shirts, and a very few etceteras.

The fleet, I found, was bound for the projected attack on New York.  It
consisted of his Majesty's ships Chatham, Rear-Admiral Shouldham, of the
White--she had on board General Lord Percy, General Pigot, and other
officers of rank--the Centurion, the Greyhound, which had on board
General Sir William Howe, the Commander-in-Chief, and brother to Admiral
Lord Howe, the Rose, Senegal, and Merlin, sloops of war, and nearly two
hundred sail of transports.

Two hours after I got on board the whole fleet of men-of-war and
transports made sail for their destination.  It was understood that we
were to be joined at New York by Admiral Lord Howe, who was on his way
out from England.  He was to take command of the fleet, while his
brother, the general, had command of the army.  The two together were to
act as commissioners to treat with the rebels, and, by showing them the
overpowering force marshalled against them, to endeavour to bring them
to terms.  Although the rebels had been for so long able successfully to
set the king's forces at defiance, there were a considerable number of
people throughout the country who still remained loyal to their
sovereign, known generally under the designation of Tories, and it was
supposed that they would materially aid both in putting down the
rebellion and in winning back the inhabitants to their allegiance.  The
rebel army, under the immediate command of General Washington, held New
York and Long Island opposite to it, as well as the adjacent country.  I
believe I knew the particulars I speak of at the time: if not I learnt
them soon afterwards.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Note 1.  Father of the late Admiral Sir William Symonds, and of the late
Admiral Thomas Symonds.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Note 2.  General Howe was the brother of Admiral Lord Howe.



CHAPTER FOUR.

THE FLEET AT SEA.--TROOPS LANDED.--ALL HOPE OF PEACE ABANDONED.--SPIES
EXECUTED.--BOATS SENT TO WATCH FIRE-SHIPS.--REJOIN ORPHEUS.--LAND
MASTERS OF MERCHANTMEN.--FALL IN WITH REBEL REGIMENT.--ATTACK FORT ON
SULLIVAN'S ISLAND.--HEAVY LOSS.--WITNESS ATTACK ON BROOKLYN.--DREADFUL
SLAUGHTER.--RUN PAST BATTERIES IN EAST RIVER.--TRYING TIME.--DEATH OF AN
OLD FRIEND.--SHIPS CANNONADED.

Far as the eye could reach the white sails of the men-of-war and
transports dotted the blue waters of the Atlantic, as with a light
though favourable breeze the fleet steered a course for New York.  We
might have been excused, as we scanned with pride the vast armament--the
ships, their crews, and the troops in prime order and amply supplied
with all the munitions of war, under the command of the most experienced
leaders England could send forth--if we believed firmly that victory was
destined to sit proudly on our standards.  Here and there a man-of-war
might be seen in the far distance, like a sheep-dog on the heels of the
flock, firing a gun now, on this side now on that, to hint to any
laggers along the transports to make more sail, but generally the fleet
kept well together.  On the 13th the Greyhound, with General Howe on
board, parted company, to hasten on, it was supposed, to make
arrangements with Governor Tryon and other royalists in the
neighbourhood of New York about the landing the troops, and did not
return to the fleet.  It was not till the 2nd, after a prosperous
voyage, that we reached Sandy Hook, at the mouth of Baritan Day, to the
southward of the narrow entrance of New York harbour, where we found at
anchor his Majesty's ship Phoenix and several sail of merchantmen.  At
noon on the 4th the signal was given for the whole fleet to weigh.  It
was a beautiful sight.  The sky was blue, the sun bright, and the water
calm and clear.  To the southward, across the yellow glittering shore of
Sandy Hook, arose the bold highlands of Neversink; on the larboard bow
was Staten Island, with green fields, feathery woods, and sloping hills,
sprinkled with numerous country houses and villas, built mostly by the
old Dutch settlers, peeping from among the trees.  Ahead were the
Narrows--such is the appropriate name given to the channel leading to
New York--while more to the right stretched away, till lost in distance
to the north-east, the low sandy coast of Long Island, with a fringe of
dark forest appearing on the summit of its centre ridge like the
bristles on the back of a wild boar.  The Chatham was the first ship to
make sail, and the master received orders to steer through the rest of
the fleet.  It was truly a fine sight, as the admiral and the generals,
with their brilliant staffs in rich uniforms, and the officers of the
ships stood crowding on the decks, with bands playing joyous and
inspiriting tunes while we sailed onward, the crews and troops on board
that numerous squadron cheering lustily, their hearts beating with
martial ardour under the belief that we were advancing to the immediate
attack and certain conquest of New York.  All necessary preparations
were made on our passage up for landing, but as we approached the
entrance of the harbour some change seemed to be contemplated in the
arrangements, and at sunset, instead of entering the Narrows, the signal
was made for the fleet to anchor in Gravesend Day at the south-west end
of Long Island.  I was anxious to fall in with the Orpheus, once more to
get on board her, for with my scanty stock of clothing I was far from
comfortable in the flag-ship.  She was, however, away on a cruise and
might not possibly return for some time.  However, I thereby saw and
heard more of the general proceedings than I should otherwise have done.
We learned soon afterwards that on this very day, the 4th of July,
1776, thirteen British colonies in America had declared themselves free
and independent States, abjuring all allegiance to the British Crown,
and renouncing all political connexion with the mother country.  This
declaration was issued by the celebrated Congress, organised by Dr
Franklin and other provincial leaders, consisting of representatives
from the above-mentioned States who assembled at Philadelphia.  The
resolution was passed on the 2nd, but it was not till the day I speak
of, the 4th, that the document entitled the Declaration of Independence
was adopted by the Congress and published to the people.  It was the
fatal blow which severed for ever that vast territory from Great
Britain.  The reasons for our anchoring and the troops not being landed
were known only to the commanders-in-chief.

At daylight on the 5th the signal was made for the whole fleet to weigh.
At this time, it must be understood, the rebels held the shore of Long
Island on our starboard hand in considerable force, and there were
bodies of them on Staten Island on the larboard hand, which forms the
southern side of the harbour.  It was a fine sight to see the fleet, the
Phoenix, Rose, and Senegal leading, standing for the channel of the
Narrows; but our hopes of entering into action were again disappointed
in consequence of the wind falling away and compelling us to anchor.  At
four o'clock in the afternoon, however, once more the signal was made to
weigh, the flat-bottomed boats destined to land the troops were manned,
and in the same order as before we proceeded onwards.  The moment we
entered the Narrows the rebels opened fire on us from field-pieces and
small arms, but without doing us much injury, but very few men on board
any of the ships being killed.  By seven o'clock we had dropped anchor
close in with the north shore of Staten Island, and were actively
engaged in landing the troops.  So rapid and unexpected had been our
movements at the last that a body of the enemy, to the number of nearly
three hundred men, were unable to escape and were taken prisoners by the
first division of Grenadiers who landed.  The army at once encamped, and
it was difficult to say what great movement would next take place.  We
found ourselves, however, at once engaged in active warfare on a small
scale, for the enemy were by no means idle and the troops had frequent
skirmishes with them.  The navy also had work enough to do, and of a
very harassing nature.  Frequently I had to spend the whole of the night
in a guard-boat keeping watch on the movements of the enemy, especially
looking out for the approach of fire-ships, which, it was reported, they
were about to send down in the hopes of destroying the fleet.  In the
day-time we were employed in carrying about troops and throwing them on
shore in different directions, to harass and distract the enemy, so that
they might be less prepared when the real attack upon them was made.  On
the 12th of July the signal was made for the Phoenix, Rose, and Tryall
to get under weigh, and the wind being favourable, they stood up boldly
towards the mouth of the Hudson.  It was an exploit of no slight danger
and difficulty, and was watched by all on board the fleet with
breathless interest.  As they got within reach the batteries of Red
Hook, Powles Hook, and the garrison of New York opened an incessant and
heavy fire on them, which was warmly returned by the ships.  General
Washington and his army must have looked with no little vexation, if not
dismay, on the success of the attempt, as it exposed the shores of the
Hudson at unexpected points to our attacks, and Captain Wallace of the
Rose was well known for the annoyance he had been causing the
inhabitants of the New England coast since the commencement of the
outbreak.

On the day of this occurrence a salute from each of the ships-of-war
gave notice that Lord Viscount Howe had arrived.  He superseded Lord
Shouldham as commander-in-chief.  He had come out from England expecting
to join his brother, the general, at Halifax, but finding that he had
sailed from thence had followed him here.  At first it was supposed that
warlike operations would be pushed on with vigour, but soon it was
reported that conciliatory measures were to be the order of the day, and
the general and admiral lost no time in communicating with General
Washington, Dr Franklin, and other leaders of the rebels, in the hopes
of bringing them to terms.

Officers were sent with flags of truce, who were met by the Americans
each time in a barge half-way between Governor's Island and Staten
Island.  Governor's Island is a small island in the centre of the
channel between Brooklyn and New York.  They were conducted with every
mark of courtesy to the American generals, but the rebels had already
committed themselves too far to allow them to accept of any terms the
British Commissioners had it in their power to offer.  The Declaration
of Independence had for ever, indeed, cut the last link which bound the
colonies to England, and though henceforward they might be reconciled,
it was clear that it must be in the character of separate States.  It
was reported on board that the admiral had addressed a letter to General
Washington as simply to George Washington, Esquire, and that the
American commander-in-chief refused to receive it, on the ground that he
was at the head of a regularly constituted army and could only receive
communications under his proper title of general.  Those who knew
General Washington, as I afterwards had the means of doing, were aware
that this was not owing to pride or ostentation, but from the importance
in the critical position in which he was placed of keeping up his
character and of asserting the legality of the cause in which he was
engaged.  Whatever might have been then said of that truly great man,
ample justice will be done him in after ages, I am sure, among all ranks
and classes of opinion.  However, as I do not profess to write a history
of the events of the war or of the public characters engaged in it, I
will return to my own private journal.

The Americans had for some time past, as I have mentioned, been
preparing fire-ships.  This we knew from our spies.  We had a number of
them on shore, or rather, there were a number of royalists who, having
no wish to join the rebellion, were ready by every means in their power
to aid in putting it down.  A considerable number of these had been
removed by the rebel authorities, both from Long Island and the adjacent
districts, into the interior.  Many were imprisoned, and some few who
had been discovered communicating with our party were executed as spies.
Even among the very men who were about Washington himself some were
found not true to him, and it was reported that plots had been laid, if
not against his life, at all events against his liberty, so that it
would not have surprised us had he been brought on board a prisoner.
But to return to the subject of the fire-ships.  On the night of the
10th of August I had been put in charge of one of the squadron of boats
always held in readiness to repel any attack from those dangerous
engines of warfare.  It had just gone four-bells in the first watch, the
night was cloudy though it was calm and sultry, when the Eagle, Captain
Duncan, made the signal that the enemy's fire-ships were approaching.
The officer in command of our boat squadron repeated the signal.  "Give
way, my lads, give way?" he shouted, and away we all pulled up the
harbour.  It was necessary to be silent and cautious in the extreme,
however, as soon as we had quitted the fleet.  We made the best of our
way, for time might be of importance.  The night was very dark, the
water was smooth and the foam which bubbled up at our bows of the boats
and fell in showers from the blades of our oars sparkled brilliantly, as
if composed of grains of burnished gold.

Ahead of us lay the devoted city against which our arms were soon to be
turned, and from whose neighbourhood we expected every instant to see
the fire-ships issue forth.  At length the order was passed from boat to
boat that we should lay on our oars to await the expected event.  Hour
after hour, however, went by.  Now there was an alarm that some dark
bodies were seen moving down towards us, but no vessels made their
appearance, and at last the near approach of dawn warned us that it was
time to pull back to our ships to escape an attack by the enemy.  We of
course kept a look-out astern, to be certain that the fire-ships were
not following us, and then lay on our oars again in the neighbourhood of
the fleet.  Either the alarm was a false one or the rebels, aware of our
preparations, saw that it would be useless to send out the fire-ships.

This was the last night I was thus engaged, for on the 13th of August,
to my very great satisfaction, my eyes fell on the Orpheus standing up
the harbour and taking up her berth among the fleet.  I did not,
however, get my discharge from the Chatham till the following day, when,
accompanied by old Grampus, Tom Rockets, and my two other men, I lost no
time in pulling on board, after an absence of ten weeks.  I was warmly
greeted by my messmates, and we each had our adventures to recount.  She
had taken seven prizes, most of which she brought in with her.  Poor
Lee, the surgeon's second mate, was, they told me, at the point of
death.  His constitution was unfit to cope with the hard life to which
he was exposed in the navy.  He died soon afterwards, and on the morning
of the 16th we carried him on shore on Staten Island, where he rests in
an unknown grave in the land of the stranger.

The same day we sailed and steered a course for Cape May, with, the
intention of proceeding up the Delaware river to Philadelphia.  My
account of the way in which I had frightened off the privateer highly
delighted my shipmates, and Captain Hudson was pleased to approve of my
conduct.  We had on board forty masters of merchantmen which had been
captured by the different ships-of-war.  They were mostly very decent
men, some of them not unlike my friend Mr Scuttle.  We treated them
with every kindness and attention in our power.  On the 24th we arrived
off Cape Henlopen, opposite Cape May, at the entrance of Delaware Bay.
Here we hove-to, and Captain Hudson ordered me to go on shore with a
flag of truce, to land the masters of the merchantmen.

As we neared the shore I observed a body of men drawn up as if prepared
to receive me.  They were military, but had it not been for fear of
hurting the feelings of the people who were with me, I could have thrown
myself back in the stern sheets and enjoyed a hearty fit of laughter.
Not two were armed or dressed alike.  Some had high-boots, others shoes,
many had on moccasins, and not a few jack-boots; several had their legs
encased in hay-bands; hats of all shapes and sizes graced their heads.
Cocked hats and round hats and caps, and Spanish hats, and helmets even
were not uncommon.  Some wore breeches of truly Dutch build, others of
as scanty dimensions as could cover them--some had trousers, and others
scarcely any covering to that portion of their persons.  Their coats
were of every colour, shape, and size.  Green and blue and brown and
grey; some were of red, though not a little soiled, being evidently of
ancient date, while there were long coats and great coats and short
coats and spencers and cloaks; indeed, every species of covering
invented to hide the nakedness of the human body.  While the men
themselves were tall and short and thin and stout and straight and
crooked.  No one had been refused admission into the corps.  Their arms
were as various in construction as their costumes.  There were muskets
and rifles and pikes and matchlocks, and pistols which had been used at
Culloden, and some even, I fancy, in the civil war of the Commonwealth,
while a few even had contented themselves with pitchforks, scythes, and
reaping-hooks.  The officers were as independent as to uniformity as the
men, and not less picturesque, though more comfortably dressed.  Each
man had exercised his own taste in his endeavour to give himself a
military appearance, though I must say they had most lamentably failed
in the result.  I honestly confess, as I was speaking to them, that I
was forcibly reminded of the appearance my old shipmates and I cut when
we first presented ourselves on board the Torbay at the commencement of
my naval career.

My orders were to land the prisoners and to return to the ship as soon
as possible.  I had therefore time only to exchange a few words with the
officers, who were inclined to be very civil, and when the masters of
the vessels told them how they had been treated on board the Orpheus
they were still more disposed to be friendly.  At that time the bitter
feeling against Great Britain, which it must be owned she brought on
herself by her injustice and dictatorial conduct, had not then been so
universally stirred up.

"Now, my lads," shouted the commander of the party as I was stepping
into my boat, "that young officer is a good fellow so let us give him
three cheers."

"Hip, hip, hip, hurrah!" broke from the throats of all the regiment in
good hearty style.

I turned round as I was shoving off and bowed and waved my hat, and I
parted on the most amiable terms from those heroes, so like the ragged
regiment headed by the redoubtable Sir John Falstaff.

We had great fun on board as I described them--Frank Mercer alone looked
grave.

"Does it not strike you," said he, "that the very fact of the want of
uniformity in their outward man shows the unanimity of sentiment which
pervades them and makes them flock round the standard of liberty to
defend their rights as freemen, regardless of outward appearance?  Those
poor fellows, though doubtless very inferior to regular troops, would
not shed their blood less willingly or behave less bravely in the face
of an enemy."

"Oh, you are a rebel, Mercer, you are a rebel!" we all shouted; "don't
talk treason here."

"I only talk truth," answered Mercer gravely.

Since then I have been much inclined to agree with him.

We had a speedy voyage back, without taking a prize, and reached New
York harbour on the 27th of August.  A considerable number of
ships-of-war and transports had arrived during our absence, having on
board large reinforcements.  Among them were a large body of Hessian
troops, who had been hired from the Landgrave of Hesse-Cassel and the
Duke of Brunswick, especially to put down the American rebellion.  They
were well disciplined, but fierce, ruthless troops, who murdered and
plundered without hesitation whenever they had the opportunity, and were
naturally dreaded and hated by the enemy.  Besides the troops which had
come from Europe, a large body of men had arrived from the South, under
the command of Sir Henry Clinton, who, in conjunction with Sir Peter
Parker, had retired from an unsuccessful attempt to capture Charleston,
in South Carolina, which, after the evacuation of Boston, it was
considered important to occupy.  I afterwards served under Sir Peter
Parker and heard all the particulars, some of which I now introduce to
make my brief account of the contest more complete.

At the entrance of Charleston harbour, on the right hand, is Sullivan's
Island, about six miles below the city.  To the east of Sullivan's
Island is Long Island, from which it is separated by a creek called the
Breach.  On the south-west point of Sullivan's Island was a strong fort,
though composed only of earth and palmetto wood.  As palmetto wood is
soft and does not splinter, it was especially suited for the purpose.
The squadron, under Sir Peter Parker, consisted of the Bristol,
Experiment, Active, Solebay, Actaeon, Syren, and other smaller craft.
While Sir Henry Clinton landed his troops on Long Island Sir Peter
undertook to attack the fort, which was commanded by Colonel Moultrie.
General Lee, however, with a large force, had by rapid marches advanced
to the protection of the city.  The Thunder-bomb began the action,
during which the Sphinx, Syren, and Actaeon ran foul of each other and
got on shore.  The two first hauled off, but the Actaeon remained, and
was ultimately abandoned and burned.  The fire was most tremendous and
deadly on both sides, but the British suffered the most; indeed, seldom
have ships been exposed to a more terrific battering, or stood it with
greater heroism and perseverance.  On board that small squadron there
were no less than sixty-four men killed and one hundred and forty-three
wounded.  At one time on the deck of the Bristol Sir Peter himself,
amidst the deadly shower, alone stood unhurt.  Captain Morris, of the
Actaeon, was killed, as was Lord Campbell, late governor of the
province, serving as a volunteer on board.  Captain Scott, of the
Experiment, lost his arm.  The Bristol was completely unrigged; her guns
were dismounted and her top-masts shot away.  In vain Sir Peter looked
for the assistance he expected from Sir Henry.  Each time the troops
attempted to cross from Long Island they were foiled by the bold front
presented by a body of Americans with artillery.  At length, the carnage
growing more appalling than ever, and their hope of success diminishing,
Sir Peter ordered them to make their way out of action.  This event took
place on the 28th of June.  Other unsuccessful attempts were made to
capture the fort, and in a few days the troops were re-embarked and the
squadron came northward.  I did not hear that the Phoenix, Rose, and
Tryall did much execution up the Hudson.  They had some encounters with
the enemy's row-boats and exchanged shots occasionally with the troops
on shore; while they had constantly to be on the watch at night to
prevent the attack of fire-ships; but their chief object was evidently
to survey the river, to enable the fleet to proceed upwards if
necessary.  As the river is very broad, in many places expanding into
almost lakes, they were able to anchor at all times out of gun shot
distance.  Having accomplished their object, they left the river on the
18th, exchanging a brisk fire with the forts in their passage.

I must now give a sketch of one of the most sanguinary encounters it has
ever been my lot to witness, and which, had we arrived a day later, I
should have missed seeing.

People in England were apt to fancy that the rebels were officered by a
set of planters or merchants, and to treat them accordingly with
superciliousness and contempt, instead of which, besides General
Washington, there were many who had been engaged from their youth upward
in border warfare, not only with Indians, but with the disciplined
troops of France.  Many had aided in the conquest of Canada, while
others had served in the armies of England and other European powers,
and had experience equal to those to whom they were opposed, wanting
only titular or official rank; while all were better acquainted with the
country and were animated with the warmest patriotism and belief in the
justice of their cause.  Their great deficiency was in the discipline of
their men, who, though not wanting in bravery, had but little discretion
and no experience in general, while the subaltern officers were
destitute also of the same necessary qualities.  Some of their
regiments, however, had been brought into very fair discipline, and were
well officered.  The great fault of the British, I must remark, as I
shall have frequently to do, was over-confidence and a contempt of the
foe with whom they were contending.  On the present occasion, however,
no imputation of that sort could be cast on the British commanders.  The
main body of the Americans were entrenched in a strong position at
Brooklyn, at the end of Long Island, directly opposite New York, from
which it is divided by a strait about three quarters of a mile in width,
called East River.  Directly down the centre of the island is a ridge of
rocky hills, covered with wood.  Across these hills were three roads
leading from the side of the island, opposite Staten Island, where our
troops would naturally land.  These three passes were held by different
bodies of American troops.  The whole American force was under the
command of General Putnam, though it was said Washington himself
frequently crossed from New York to aid in the defence of the position.
Previous to the 27th a large portion of our army, including two brigades
of Hessians, had crossed over from Staten Island, and, landing between
Gravesend and Flatland, some of them encamped in that neighbourhood,
while the Hessians pushed on to a place called Flatbush.  On the evening
of the 26th the whole army advanced, Sir Henry Clinton leading the light
infantry, Lord Percy following with the grenadiers, flying artillery,
and light dragoons, while Lord Cornwallis, accompanied by Lord Howe,
brought up the rear-guard with the heavy ordnance.  About two hours
before daybreak they arrived at the neighbourhood of the hills, when
they discovered that the pass to the east, called the Bedford Pass, was
unoccupied.  He at once led his division through it, and thus turned the
left of the American position.  In the meantime General Grant had
advanced with another division from Gravesend past Gowanus Cowe, on the
road by the Narrows towards the right of the American position.  As soon
as it was daylight he formed his troops directly opposite the enemy,
where he waited to hear that Sir Henry had commenced the attack.
General De Heister, who commanded the Hessians, had kept up a hot fire
with his artillery on a redoubt in front of the lines from his camp at
Flatbush, which he ultimately stormed, while Lord Cornwallis, advancing
on the centre, was bravely opposed by Lord Stirling who had taken up
arms on the side of the Americans.  One of our ships was all the time
discharging a heavy cannonade on the battery at Red Hook, near which we
also were brought up to join in the action had it been necessary, and
whence from the maintop, where I with others had gone, I had a tolerably
perfect view of many of the proceedings.  Hemmed in on all sides, as I
have described, and pressed on by overwhelming numbers of disciplined
troops, the Americans, after a desperate and brave resistance, at length
gave way, and then commenced a most indiscriminate and dreadful
slaughter.  They were cut down and trampled on by the cavalry, bayoneted
by the savage Hessians, and torn in pieces by the artillery.  Some
rallied for a time and defended themselves with their rifles, behind
rocks and trees, and at length, by a desperate effort, cut their way
through their foes to the lines.  Lord Stirling, who had fought bravely
throughout the day, surrendered himself as a prisoner to General De
Heister, two hundred and fifty of the brave fellows he had led lying
dead around him.  General Sullivan and several other officers were
taken, endeavouring to cover the retreat of their troops.  The enemy in
all lost in killed alone full fifteen hundred men besides others who
were smothered in the mud as they were endeavouring to escape from the
Hessian bayonets.  These, with wounded and prisoners, made up their loss
to nearly three thousand men out of scarcely more than five thousand
engaged.

It is a dreadful sight to witness slaughter such as this was, when one's
blood is cold and one sits a mere spectator of the fight.  I felt all
the time more inclined to side with the poor Americans as they were
flying from our victorious troops than to wish for the success of the
latter.  I heard a deep groan near me as I was seated in the maintop.  I
looked round.  It was Frank Mercer.  He was as pale as death.  I thought
he would have fallen on deck.  At times he would shade his eyes with his
hand, and then again he would gaze earnestly at the dreadful sight as if
unable to resist its horrid fascination.  Of course I have not described
half the events of the day.

The Americans retreated within their lines and the British troops
advanced close up to them.  It was supposed that General Howe would give
the order to storm the works.  Had he done so at once they would
certainly have been taken, and though with some considerable loss of
life, it might have prevented much subsequent greater loss.  However, it
appeared that he had resolved to attack the lines by regular approaches.
General Washington, seeing the inevitable result, made a masterly
retreat with the whole garrison across the sound to New York during the
night, favoured by calm weather and a thick fog.  Notice was brought in
the morning to General Howe of what had occurred, and when one of his
aides-de-camp, who was sent to ascertain the fact, climbed over the
crest of the works he found them of a truth deserted.  The next day no
less than thirteen hundred Americans were buried in one large pit, while
many more had been lost in the creek and swamp near the lines.

It was the general opinion, both in the camp and fleet, that had the
army at once been pushed forward, a speedy and happy conclusion would
have been brought to the war.  There were all sorts of reports current.
Among them it was said that the city was about to be abandoned and burnt
to the ground, to prevent our troops occupying it for the winter.  This
proceeding, however, the inhabitants strongly opposed, as all their
property would thereby have been destroyed.  I must not delay the
progress of my narrative to mention the various reports of all sorts
which were flying about.

On the 30th we again put to sea, Captain Hudson having under his command
the Niger and Greyhound frigates.  We cruised off Sandy Hook without
meeting with any occurrence worth noting till the 3rd of September, when
we returned to Sandy Hook.  Here we received orders once more to proceed
to sea, to look out for a fleet of transports, with a division of
Hessians on board, daily expected from Europe, under convoy of the
Repulse.  We fortunately fell in with them on the following morning, and
returned in their company to Gravesend Day.

On the 8th we moved up to Staten Island, and we began to hope that we at
length might be engaged in some more active service than we had hitherto
seen.

"Have you heard the news?" exclaimed Delisle two days afterwards, as I
came on deck for the first time that morning.

I inquired what it was.

"We are to move up at once opposite New York and to prepare the ship for
running past the batteries up the East River."

"Hurra! the hotter the better; anything better than stagnation!"  I
exclaimed.

"Mercer, have you made your will?" asked Kennedy, as the two met each
other near us.

"Yes, Kennedy, I have," answered Mercer gravely.  "It may not be to-day
or to-morrow that it will come into force, but it may before long, and I
wish that those I may not help living may benefit by my death."

Kennedy had nothing to reply to this; Mercer's solemn manner silenced
him.

"What does Mercer mean?  Does he think he is going to be killed?" asked
little Harry Sumner, who was standing by.

"It may be the lot of anyone of us, my boy," said I.  "Though I hope the
enemy's shot won't find you out at all events."

"I hope not indeed," replied Harry.  "I should like to go home and
describe all the places I have seen and the things we have done."

As I looked at our young pet I felt how hard a thing it was that so
small a lad should be exposed to all the vicissitudes of warfare.

Macallan had overheard us.  "It's my opinion that Mercer has seen his
wraith," he remarked sententiously.  "There's a grave, dour look about
his pale countenance which a man who is long for this world never
wears."

We all agreed that there was too much truth about the doctor's
observation, though we trusted he might be mistaken.  I have heard many
conversations of this sort, and many of my shipmates and others whom I
have known have had presentiments of their approaching death.  Some have
been killed on the occasion they expected, while others who appeared
equally certain of being summoned away have come out of action without
scratch.  Others, again, whom I have seen laughing and jesting as if
they had a long lease of life before them, have, within a few hours
perhaps, been stretched lifeless on the deck.  I have come to the
conclusion, therefore, that no one can tell when his last moment is to
come, and that consequently it behoves us all to be prepared at all
times for that unavoidable occurrence.

Among the ships lying near us was the Roebuck, of 44 guns, commanded by
Captain Andrew Snape Hamond, (note 1), a very active and intelligent
officer.  I knew several of her officers.  Among them was an old friend
of mine, Hitchcock, belonging to Falmouth.  I dined with him a day or
two after this, and in return invited him to dine with me on board the
Orpheus.

"I'll come," said he; "depend upon me, I'll not let the rebels stop me."

"I shall keep you to your promise," I replied, as I was shoving off.

We had prepared the ship for action for some days by clearing away all
bulkheads fore and aft, and sending everything not absolutely required
below.  Still several days passed by and nothing was done.  It was
understood that Lord Howe and Dr Franklin were negotiating at this
time, as the result proved, without any effect.  Lord Howe to the last
was anxious to prevent more bloodshed, and hoped to bring the colonists
to terms, but as they now considered themselves an independent people,
and he had the authority to treat with them in that capacity, he was
powerless.

At length, on the 21st of September, towards three o'clock in the
afternoon, the admiral made the signal for us to weigh.  Each man with
alacrity hurried to his quarters.  Never was sail more speedily got on
the ship.  The Phoenix, Roebuck, Carrisfort, and Rose were seen
spreading their canvas at the same time to a very light air which blew
from the westward.  I must try and describe the scene of our operations.
Before us lay a long, narrow strip of land called Manhattan Island,
about thirteen miles long and from half a mile to two wide, on the south
end of which stands the City of New York, while on the north end are
some hills called the Harlem Heights.  It is divided from the mainland
on the north by a creek called the Harlem River, over which there is a
bridge called King's Bridge.  The west of Manhattan Island is washed by
the River Hudson, which separates it from the New Jersey shore, while
part of the Sound, which is called the East River, runs round it on the
south and east, dividing it from Long Island, till it is joined by the
Harlem River on the north.  The Harlem River forms a direct
communication between the Hudson and East River.  That part of it
nearest the Hudson was called by the Dutch Spuyten Duyvel Creek, while
the east end, where it joins East River, has the still less pleasant
sounding name of Hell Gate.  Near it was a strong battery.  Nearly in
the centre of East River, opposite the south point of New York, is
Governor's Island, which was strongly fortified.  There were batteries
along the whole line of the shore on Manhattan Island.  Slowly and
solemnly our squadron approached the shore.  Perfect silence reigned
throughout the ship.  For some time not a shot was fired.  Captain
Hudson had been keeping a sharp look-out on the enemy's batteries as we
approached.

"Pass the word along the decks that every man and officer is to lie down
at his quarters!" he exclaimed.

The judicious order was at once obeyed.  The same precaution was not
used by the other ships.  At half-past three, when we were within
pistol-shot of the city, the enemy opened their fire.  We were so close
and moved so slowly that scarcely a shot missed us, literally riddling
the ship, as if we had been a butt put up to be fired at.

"How do you like this?"  I asked of young Sumner, who was near me.

"Not at all just now," he answered.  "I only wish that the captain would
let us get up and fire back on the enemy.  I thought that was always
done when people fight."

"Sometimes one has to be battered at as well as to batter, as in the
present instance," I answered.  "But depend on it, we shall be allowed
to take our revenge before long."

"Oh, I wish those dreadful cannon-balls would not come so close to one,"
sung out poor Harry, half playfully, half in earnest, as a round shot
came crashing through the bulwark close to where we lay, throwing the
splinters about us, ploughing up the deck, and passing out at a port on
the other side.

"I thought you were not going to be frightened, Harry, my boy," said I.

"Nor should I, I tell you, if I could but be firing in return," he
answered.  "Besides, it is the first time I was ever in action, and I
have heard that the bravest men are apt to bob their heads on such
occasions.  Perhaps when I get accustomed to it I shall care as little
as anyone for it."

"I have no doubt you will, Harry," I replied; and most truly the noble
little fellow did not disappoint my expectations.  With proud defiance
the squadron continued its onward course, still desisting from firing,
as if invulnerable to the showers of round shot and bullets which came
whistling about them.  The enemy were in general firing too high to do
much injury except to our rigging; the splinters which flew from our
topmasts and yards and came showering down every now and then on deck,
and the strange festoons our rigging began to form, the ends of ropes
hanging here and there, and the numerous holes exhibited in our sails
showed the effect their unremitting fire had caused.  Sometimes the wind
was so light that we had little more than steerage way, when instantly
guns were brought round to attack us.  Still we had not performed half
our distance.  I must own that never, when in chase of an enemy, or when
attacked by gun-boats, or when finding my ship set on shore by a strong
current, have I more earnestly prayed than now for a breeze to carry us
onward.  Nothing so much damps the ardour of men as having to sit quiet
and be fired at without having the power of returning the compliment.
Few can stand it except Turks and Englishmen; Turks because they fancy
it is their fate, Englishmen because they know it is their duty.  As the
shot came crashing among us and the blocks and splinters from the spars
and other parts of the rigging came tumbling down on our heads, a growl
might every now and then be heard from some of the seamen very like that
given by a savage dog chained up as a stranger approaches his kennel and
he finds after repeated trials that he has come to the length of his
tether.  I really felt it a relief when I had to move about the decks on
any duty, as was the case occasionally when a slight shift of wind or an
alteration in our course made it necessary to trim sails, though I was
thus exposed to a much greater risk of losing the number of my mess.
Not a man could show his head above the hammock nettings but he was sure
to become the mark of a hundred riflemen who were poking out their
weapons from the windows of the houses which looked so peaceably at us.
As I went about the decks I amused myself by remarking the different
expressions worn by the countenances of the men.  With respect to the
greater number it was that of calm indifference, as if not aware that
they were running any unusual risk of their lives.  Some seemed to see
the danger, but to brave it; many were laughing and joking among
themselves, while a few, and only a few, were evidently in no small
terror of being hit.  I passed near Tom Rockets.  His countenance told
me that I need have no fear of his doing me discredit.  Old Grampus was
near him, looking as calm as if he was sitting down to his dinner.

"I have been telling the youngster, sir," said he, "that one of the
first things a seaman has to learn is how to bear the hardships it may
please Providence to send him, whether he has to be shot at, as he has
now, or to suffer famine on a raft or desert island, or to have the sea
breaking over him on a wreck or on the cold, slippery rocks.  Maybe
he'll have to try them all before he settles down with a wooden leg,
ashore in his own cottage, or bears up for Greenwich, as I hopes to do
one day."

Tom listened to this very gravely, but I suspect old Nol had been
amusing himself somewhat at his expense.  Hour after hour passed by, and
the ship proudly held on her course round Manhattan Island till we
reached the eastern side beyond the city, where, at a spot called Kip's
Bay, about two miles from it, the squadron at length, at about seven
o'clock, dropped anchor in front of a long line of entrenchments which
the enemy had thrown up.

Captain Hudson, having to communicate with Captain Hamond, sent me on
board the Roebuck.  Having delivered my message, I inquired for my
friend Hitchcock.

"He is here," said Collins, a midshipman I had addressed, lifting up an
ensign which was spread near the mainmast.

There lay the poor fellow who was to have dined with me that day, so
lately full of life and spirits, now stiff and stark.  A rifle-bullet
had passed through his heart.  Several other men had been killed and
wounded on board.  Such is one of the chances of war.  I returned sadly
on board my own ship.  In those days such an occurrence had but a very
transitory effect.

As soon as the enemy found that we were to be stationary for a while,
some guns were brought up, which began playing on us, and kept up a no
very musical serenade during the night.  The shots struck the ships
occasionally; but the guns were very badly served, and did little or no
execution.  Their music did not prevent me sleeping soundly, and
preparing to take my share in the hot work in which we were about to
gage.

The next day we received orders to attack the batteries at Hell Gate.
Lord Howe could not have been informed of the true nature of the place,
or he would not have issued the order.  The pilots, however, positively
refused to take up the ships, asserting, and not without good grounds,
that they would inevitably be lost.  At all events, I believe that by
their determination we escaped a severe chastisement from the enemy.  We
therefore, with the exception of a little cannonading, spent another
quiet night with whole skins in Kip's Bay.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Note 1.  Afterwards Sir Andrew Hamond, Bart, and father of the late
Admiral Sir Graham Hamond, Admiral of the Fleet, and grandfather of the
present Captain Sir Andrew Hamond, Bart.--Editor.



CHAPTER FIVE.

A BRIGHT MORNING AND A DARK DAY.--ATTACK ON NEW YORK.--MERCER SHOWS HIS
SYMPATHY WITH THE AMERICANS.--THE BATTLE RAGES.--FIELD OF BATTLE.--
ASSIST A WOUNDED AMERICAN.--FIRED AT BY OUR FRIENDS.--ANOTHER TRIP ON
SHORE.--FALL INTO THE HANDS OF HESSIAN TROOPS.--RESCUED BY GENERAL
PIGOT.--SENT WITH DESPATCHES TO LORD HOWE.--MY BOAT'S CREW MUTINY.--NEW
YORK ON FIRE.--TREATMENT OF SUPPOSED INCENDIARIES.--REMARKS ON THE
WAR.--THE CONDEMNED SPY.--MERCER PLEADS FOR HIM IN VAIN.--HIS EXECUTION.

By early dawn on the morning of the 23rd of September, 1776, every one
was astir.  The sultry atmosphere alone, even under ordinary
circumstances, would have made us glad to leave our berths.  It had
become known that a combined attack by the land and sea forces was to be
made on the enemy.  The mighty sun rose over Long Island in a blaze of
glory, and shot upward into a cloudless sky as the anchor was lifted.
Fold after fold of our white canvas was let fall, and the other ships of
the squadron following our example, we once more moved onward along the
shore of Manhattan Island.

The scene was one of great beauty.  The rays of the bright luminary fell
on the wood-crowned heights of Harlem on one side, and of Morrissania on
the other side of the creek, throwing the promontories into bold relief,
and the bays and inlets, with which the coast is indented, into deeper
shade, while rich fields, and meadows and orchards, as they basked in
the soft morning light, gave the whole landscape an appearance of
calmness and peace, soon to be broken by the rude realities of fierce,
unrelenting warfare.

As soon as we weighed anchor the troops of the enemy, who had been
watching us under arms since dawn, began to march along the shore close
to us, regardless of the danger they ran of destruction, for had we
opened our broadsides, we might have played sad havoc among them.  They
were not quite so fantastically dressed as my friends at Cape Henlopen,
but still there was a very great variety of costume, and a lamentable
want of discipline among them.  If the front rank did not advance fast
enough, the rear would give them a shove or a kick to urge them on, all
the time making significant and not very complimentary signs to us to
come on shore and fight them, while they tried to express their supreme
contempt for us by every means in their power, shouting out taunting
words, and abusing us in no measured terms.

Our men had two days before stood the battering we got with comparative
calmness, but the taunts and signs of the foe now enraged them beyond
all endurance.

"Wait a bit, my lads, and then won't we give it you!" sung out Dick
Trunnion, a sturdy topman, and many similar expressions were uttered by
others.

"Oh, Muster Hurry, don't yer think the captain would let us go ashore,
and give them chaps the drubbing they deserves?" asked Tom Rockets as I
passed, doubling his fists while he spoke.  "I'd like to give them a
hiding."

"Never mind them, lads," said old Grampus, turning his back to the
shore, and looking over his shoulder at the foe with a glance of supreme
contempt.  "They knows no better; and fancies because we don't hit we
can't.  Poor fellows!  I pities them, that I do.  They bees little
better than savinges, only they wants the paint and feathers."

I felt very much as Nol said he did; but I suspect that his anger was
rather more excited than he chose to confess.  The truth was that these
were mostly raw militia regiments, who had seen little or nothing of
warfare, and from the previous occurrences of the war had been taught to
look with contempt on British prowess.  The regulars in most instances
behaved admirably, and nothing could surpass the bravery of the officers
of all ranks.  This their greatest enemies could not deny; but the
militia were of a very different stamp, and the men, unable to depend on
each other or their officers, on several occasions fairly turned tail
and ran away.  I fancy that most of our opponents on the present
occasion were of that class.  We stood on till we reached a spot about
fifty yards from the enemy's entrenchments, a little below Blackwell's
Island, where the squadron dropped their anchors, and calmly furled
sails.  There we lay for some time without exchanging a shot, expecting,
however, that some hot work was about to be commenced.  The glasses of
the officers were in the meantime constantly turned towards the small
islets in the direction of Long Island.  At length Captain Hudson
uttered an exclamation of satisfaction.

"They come! they come!" he cried out, and as he spoke a flotilla of
boats were seen emerging from among the tree-covered shores of Bushwick
Creek.  They formed the first division of flat-bottomed boats, having on
board a force of 4500 men, under the immediate command of General Howe.
Slowly and steadily they advanced, like some huge black monsters
covering the blue surface of the tranquil and hitherto peaceful Sound.
The drum now beat to quarters.

"Now my boys, if so be you want to punish them poor savinges as has been
beguiling you, your time's soon coming," growled out old Nol, as the
crew were hurrying with alacrity to their guns.

The only person whose countenance showed no satisfaction was Mercer.
Pale as death, he stood at his post over his division of guns; but I saw
that he would rather have died a hundred deaths than engage in the work
he felt it was his duty to perform.  From my heart I pitied him.  There
was but little time, however, for thinking of that or any other matter.
On came the flotilla of boats.  Not a shot had as yet disturbed the calm
tranquillity of the scene.  A thin, gauze-like mist was spread over the
distant portions of the landscape.  The hot sun struck down on our
heads; the blue expanse of water glittered in his bright rays, and the
sea-fowl skimmed over it, dipping their wings ever and anon, as if to
refresh them in the liquid element.  Everything still wore an aspect of
perfect peace.  The boats at last got within fifty yards of the ships.
A signal flew out from the mast-head of the Phoenix--the knell of many a
human being.  It was the signal to engage.

"Fire away, my lads," was shouted along the decks.  It was not necessary
to repeat the order.  Never did a crew work their guns with more
alacrity.  The shot rushed like a storm of gigantic hailstones among the
ill-fated Americans, tearing up their entrenchments and scattering the
earth and palisades far and wide.  In a very short time the
fortifications in which they had trusted were blown to atoms; still we
fired on as fast as our guns could be loaded and run out.  The enemy
answered us from various points; but with little effect.  In a few short
moments, how changed was the scene from what it had lately been!  Now
from point to point, and through every sheltered nook and bay resounded
the roar of cannon, the rattle of musketry, the shouts of the
combatants, the shrieks and groans and agonising cries of the wounded,
while above all hung a dark, funereal pall of smoke, ascending from the
scene of strife, shutting it out as it were from the bright blue
glorious firmament above, and, if it could be, from the all-searching
eye of the Creator of men who were thus disfiguring His image by their
furious passions, and dishonouring Him by the infraction of all the
precepts of that mild, that beneficent religion, which He in His
unsearchable love sent His only Son to teach them to obey.

But where am I driving to?  I did not think thus at the time.  No; my
blood was up; my evil passions were aroused; and I was as eager as
anyone to shed blood, and utterly careless of all the consequences to
myself and others.  Never have I witnessed a more tremendous fire than
was kept up by our ships for fifty-nine minutes, during which time in
the Orpheus alone we expended 5366 pounds of powder.  I kept no note of
the number of shot we fired away.  The very first broadside made a
considerable breach in the enemy's works.  At the end of the time I have
mentioned the boats advanced, and the signal was made to cease firing.
As they touched the beach the men sprang on shore, and, forming rapidly,
gallantly rushed towards the entrenchments with fixed bayonets and loud
cheers.  The enemy scarcely waited to deliver their fire, but, throwing
down their arms, fled on all sides in the utmost terror and confusion,
earnestly petitioning for quarter.  The red-coats leaped through the
breaches made by our guns, and over the embankments, and were speedily
in possession of the enemy's works.  As the smoke cleared away, the
ground far and near appeared covered with the bodies of the slain and
wounded, some with arms, others with legs, shot away, while parties of
fugitives were seen flying in every direction, pursued by our men,
especially by the Hessians, who seemed little disposed to give the
quarter which was asked.

I was not only a spectator but a participator in what I have been
describing.  As soon as the ships ceased firing, our boats, of which I
commanded one, were ordered to aid in towing the flat-bottomed boats on
shore.  As soon as the troops had landed, leaving Grampus in charge of
my boat, I, with another midshipman and Tom Rockets and two other men,
followed them into the entrenchments, and found myself shortly in the
rear of a body of Hessians as they charged over the ground.  A poor
American was flying for his life, shrieking out for mercy.  One of those
savage mercenaries either did not or would not understand him, and
before I could interpose had with a sweep of his sword severed his head
from his body, then, in savage triumph worthy of a Red Indian, sticking
it on a pole, carried it through the entrenchments, shouting out as if
he had performed some noble act of heroism.

Meantime several of the ship's boats were ordered to pull along-shore to
annoy the enemy in their flight and to prevent them from rallying.  My
friend Hargrave and I, midshipmanlike and thoughtless of danger, set off
in the direction the enemy had taken along the shore, picking up a
number of articles which in their terror they had dropped or thrown
away, such as rifles, pistols, swords, spy-glasses, and even watches,
plate, and camp utensils of various sorts, which we knew would be most
acceptable to our mess.  We passed many of the slain, knocked over in
their flight.  As we ran thoughtlessly on, very little moved by these
sights, to which even the youngsters were becoming familiar, I heard a
deep groan.  Looking round, I saw behind a bush a militiaman stretched
on the ground with a bad wound in his side.

"Oh, kill me! kill me! put me out of my misery!" he exclaimed as soon as
he saw me.

"No, I will not do that," said I; "but I will try if I can relieve you."

I had a flask of some rum and water in my pocket; I gave him some of it
to drink.  There was, fortunately, a stream near; I got some fresh water
in a hat and washed his wound, and then bound it up with a piece of
shirt which I took from a dead man near.  The poor fellow seemed much
revived and very grateful.

"There," said I, "you will be able to get off and join your people at
nightfall.  It's not my business to take you prisoner."

"Thank you, stranger, thank you," said he; "Amos Spinks will not forget
your mercy and kindness."

I could not stay with him longer, but, leaving him a piece of biscuit
and a hat full of water, I ran on to join my companions, who, not seeing
me, had gone forward.  The American had no idea I was an officer, for I
had on a white linen jacket which I wore at my quarters, and it was
consequently thickly begrimed with powder and dirt.  I caught sight of
my party ahead, and ran on as fast as my legs could carry me, with the
load of spoils I had collected, to overtake them.  As I neared them, and
was shouting to them to stop, I caught sight of one of our boats, with
Mr Heron, our second lieutenant, in her, pulling along-shore after me.
I saw that he was somewhat excited, and seemed urging on the men to pull
with greater speed.  Just as I got up to my party, to our no small
astonishment, not to say dismay, he turned the bow of the boat towards
us, and bang he let fly a shower of grape from a gun placed there right
in among us, following up the unwelcome salute with a volley of small
arms.  We shouted at the top of our voices, and made signs that we were
friends; but what with the smoke and his blindness, for he was
near-sighted, and the noise of the firing and the shouts of his men, he
neither made out who we were nor heard us, but continued peppering away
as before.

"Run, my lads, run," I sung out; "there's no disgrace running from
friends, but very unpleasant to be shot by them."

My party required no second order, but away we all scampered as fast as
we could go, scattering from each other to distract our friends in their
very unfriendly employment.

"Oh, Mr Hurry, I bees hit, I bees hit?" sung out Tom Rockets.

I expected to see him fall, but the shot only made him scamper on the
faster.  Our flight, of course, made Mr Heron fire at us more
zealously, and we had to throw away all the things we had collected to
escape with greater speed from his heroic fury.  We took a course
inland, and then turned back towards the place where we had landed.
Happily we soon got among trees and rocks and broken walls, which much
sheltered us, and Tom was the only man wounded.  As soon as we got clear
of the shot from the boat, I called a halt to examine his hurt.  It was
merely a slight flesh wound from a bullet in the leg, and a handkerchief
bound round it enabled him to walk on.  It was now time to return on
board, so we made the best of our way to the boat, not without some
considerable risk of being shot by our own sentries.  On my stepping on
deck I found several officers round the captain.  Mr Heron was among
them.

"The rascally rebels can't stand us for a moment, sir," he was saying.
"A whole gang of them hove in sight as I was pulling along-shore--a
hundred at least--and stood hallooing to me and daring me to come after
them.  I let fly among them, sent them scampering away like a flock of
sheep, knocking over a good dozen or more, I should think.  It was rare
fun, sir."

"Very good fun for you, Mr Heron," said I, turning round; "but I beg to
assure you, sir, that there were not a dozen of us altogether."

"You! what do you mean?" he asked, with a look of surprise.

"Why, that I was one of the body of supposed rebels, and though we
shouted to you and begged you not to fire, you banged at us so furiously
that we had to throw away a whole heap of things we had collected, and
to run for our lives."

Captain Hudson and the other officers laughed not a little at this
exploit of Mr Heron's, for he was notorious for his boasting.  He bore
me a grudge about it ever after.

"Well, Mr Hurry," said the captain good-naturedly, "you shall go on
shore in the afternoon with Mr Heron, and try to recover some of your
treasures."

Away we went in the afternoon accordingly in high glee, Mr Heron
expecting to pick up all sorts of things, and I hoping to recover those
I had lost.  We soon reached the field on which Mr Heron boasted to
have gained his hard-won victory; but the swords and all the things of
value were gone, picked up by the plundering-parties who invariably
issue forth over the scene where the strife has been hottest, as birds
of prey gather on the carcase just fallen in the desert.  I looked about
for the poor fellow I had assisted in the morning.  He was gone.  He
had, I concluded, either been taken prisoner, or had managed to crawl
off and rejoin his friends.  We went on much farther than we had been in
the morning, picking up some drums and a few similar bulky articles,
which others had not thought worth collecting.  We picked up in all nine
drums, one of the largest of which I sent to my friend, Jack Bluet, who
lived in a small house at Falmouth.  It might have served him for a
drawing-room table.  I hope he has got it still.  A little way beyond
where I found the wounded man I came on the body of an officer.  He lay
on his back, shot through the heart, his hand grasping a very handsome
fusee, and with a look of defiance still on his countenance.  I suspect
he had been bush-fighting in Indian fashion, in hopes of checking the
advance of his enemies, in spite of the flight of his companions in
arms.  He was a fine young man, and from his style of dress and general
appearance was evidently of respectable family.  I stooped down, and,
undoing the grasp with which the dead man's fingers held the fusee, took
possession of it and ran after my companions.  Still, as I hurried on,
the look worn by the features of the dead officer haunted me.  I felt as
if I had been depriving him of his property.  I thought of his mother
and sisters, or perhaps a young wife, who were doomed never to see him
again, or of friends who might be expecting to meet him that very day,
and for a moment all the dreadful results of warfare presented
themselves before me more vividly than they had ever before done.  The
laughter and jokes of my companions, however, very quickly drove all
such thoughts from my mind.  We had been joined by an acquaintance of
mine, Simeon, a midshipman of the Phoenix, who had with him the gunner
and seven men.  By some means or other I had been separated from Mr
Heron and my boat's crew--indeed, my lieutenant had no particular fancy
for my society, so I joined company with Simeon, and together we rambled
into the woods.  We had not gone far when we caught sight of a fellow
skulking among the trees.  When he saw that he was observed he took to
his heels, and this of course made us give chase.  The woods rang with
our shouts and cries, and we were not long before we came up with the
man, who proved to be a rebel militiaman.  He sang out most lustily for
mercy, thinking that we were going to kill him, but we soon quieted his
fears on that score by assuring him that he was not worth powder and
shot.  He seemed to be very grateful, and informed us that there had
been a smart skirmish in the wood between his party and a body of
Hessians, the latter of whom he believed were still in the neighbourhood
of the wood.  Of the truth of part of his story the dead bodies
scattered here and there about were too true witnesses.  Simeon and I,
on this, called a halt and consulted together with the gunner whether we
should go back or seek further adventures ahead.

"We have taken one prisoner, perhaps we may make some more and gain some
little credit when we present ourselves with them in camp, so I vote
that we go on," said I; and my proposal was agreed to.

As we supposed that we might be in the face of an enemy we kept closer
together than before, and moved on more cautiously.  After advancing
some way we heard voices in an orchard on the skirts of the wood, and,
supposing the sounds to proceed from a party of the rebels, we presented
our muskets and advanced towards the gate of the orchard, fully
expecting to make more prisoners.  Just, however, as we began to move on
up started before us a body of two or three hundred Hessians, with
glittering brass helmets on their heads, who, with fixed bayonets and
loud cries, charged furiously at us.  Had we attempted to move they
would have shot us, so we stood our ground and sung out most lustily
that we were friends.  They did not understand us, and, charging on,
would, I fully, expected, have bayoneted us on the spot.  "Friends--
friends!  English--British officers!"  I sung out at the top of my
voice.

"Rebels, rebels!" was the only answer we got; and in another moment we
were knocked over with the butt-ends of their muskets.  We picked
ourselves up as well as we could, and I pointed to my own and Simeon's
white cuffs and lapels, and told them that we belonged to the British
fleet, but to no purpose; and what was my dismay when they showed us at
a little distance an unfortunate rebel officer who lay on the ground
with his leg shot off, and who was dressed in the same uniform which we
wore.  He told them as well as he could that he knew nothing of us, but
they would not believe him, and, having talked together in their hideous
lingo, once more knocked us over and began belabouring us with their
muskets.  I never met such savages, and I am not surprised that they
were hated by the poor colonists.  I am sure we bore them no love,
especially just then.  We sung out lustily for mercy, for to our horror
we saw that they were about to finish us off by plunging their bayonets
into us, when our cries brought up an officer on horseback, in whom, to
my great satisfaction, I recognised General Pigot, the commander of the
division to which they belonged.  He knew me on board the Chatham, and
was thus able to assure the Hessians who I was.  They made all sorts of
apologies, which afforded us a very small amount of satisfaction.

Thanking General Pigot for his timely rescue, we set off to return to
our ships, heartily sick of our day's adventures--hungry and battered,
indeed, very much in need both of cook and doctor.

The next day we weighed and, parting from the Phoenix and the other
ships with which we had been in company, ran up between Blackwell's
Island and the main.  As we were running at the rate of some four or
five knots an hour a shock was felt which made the ship shiver
throughout her whole frame.  The pilot turned pale, as if he expected to
be shot on the spot.  He had put us on a rock.  Captain Hudson, cool as
usual, issued his orders as if nothing particular was the matter, and we
quickly swung off again and proceeded on our way till we brought up
snugly in Turtle Cove.  While the ship lay there I was sent, on the
25th, with dispatches to Lord Howe, then residing on Staten Island.  My
boat's crew on this occasion consisted either of pressed men or of
fellows whom I knew to be among the greatest blackguards in the ship.
On the way down they showed signs of an unruly disposition by pulling
slowly and not putting out their strength when I ordered them.  Their
conduct, however, did not trouble me, and I forgot all about it as I
walked up to present my dispatches to his lordship.  I have always
entertained the greatest respect for Lord Howe.  He was a good seaman--
of bravery undoubted--cool and thoughtful in danger--generous and kind,
and considerate for those under his command and careful for their
interests.  He was much abused by the royalists in America, as well as
by many in the army and fleet, as also at home, because he did not seem
anxious to push matters to extremes at once with the rebels and allow
fire and sword to be carried throughout their territories.  But he
looked upon them as fellow-beings and fellow-subjects, and though
misguided, he considered that they had too much reason for their
rebellion to be treated with the severity others proposed.  I have heard
that after an action he would go below and visit each wounded man as he
lay in his hammock, and stop and talk to him, and would send wine and
poultry from his own stock to those whom the surgeon thought required
it.  Such are the deeds by which an officer can easily win the hearts of
seamen.  I had not to wait long before I was told to walk into his room,
and I found myself in the presence of a dark and somewhat hard-featured
man--with a figure, however, tall, well-proportioned, and dignified.
Had I not known him by repute I should have been somewhat awe-struck,
but as he spoke his countenance brightened up, and his kind look
dissipated all feeling of fear.

"Sit down, youngster," said he, "and let me hear your account of the
action of the 23rd.  As your ship was at hand I conclude you saw it."

I gave him the best description in my power of what I had seen, taking
care to make no reflections on the events of the day.  He seemed much
interested, and hastily writing a letter, as soon as it was copied, told
me to return with it to Captain Hudson.

When I got back to my boat I had no little difficulty in collecting my
men, and soon after I shoved off I found that they were one and all
drunk.  As long as they pulled on I said nothing, but in a short time
they began to grumble at having come away without more liquor.

"What's the odds?" said one.  "The shortest way is to go back and get
it."

"My idea, Sam!" cried another.  "If we once get aboard our chance is
over."

"About, shipmates," exclaimed a third.  "Never mind the youngster."

"But you will have to mind me, my lads!"  I exclaimed, springing up with
my hanger in my hand.  "You've made a mistake if you fancy that I allow
tricks to be played with me."

For a short time they were silent, and, hoping that I had cowed them by
my promptitude, I again sat down in the stern-sheets.  I kept my weapon
in my right hand, however, for I was aware how completely I was in their
power if they chose to proceed to extremities.  I had come away without
pistols, so that I had only my hanger to depend on, and they might, if
they had acted together, have wrenched it from my grasp and,
overpowering me, have hove me overboard.  They would then have escaped
without much difficulty to one of the nearest American posts and joined
the rebels.  While I was thinking over this very pleasant subject, and
contemplating myself swimming for my life up East River, they again
began to grumble.

"I'll not pull another stroke!" cried one fellow with an oath.

"Nor I!  Nor I!" exclaimed others.

Two, I remarked, did not speak; and addressing myself to them, I asked
if they would join in so rascally and uncalled-for a mutiny.

It was now getting very dark, and I could scarcely see the features of
the men, so as to be prepared for what they were about to do.  The boat
lay motionless on the water.  If I hesitated I was lost.

"Take to your oars and give way, or I will cut you to pieces, you
scoundrels!"  I shouted, springing up and making a cut with my hanger at
the hands of one of the most mutinous.  "If you won't use your bands,
I'll chop them off.  Pull, I say!"

I should have been as good as my word had not the fellow taken to his
oar, while my blade struck the gunwale of the boat, by which the point
was broken.  The mutineers now rose in a body and seemed about to make a
rush on me.  O

Showing first 200,000 characters. Full text: gutenberg.org/ebooks/21465