For Love of Country: A Story of Land and Sea in the Days of the Revolution, Brady [acx book reading .TXT] 📗

defended, while his men, borne back by the determined rush of the Rangers, after a feeble resistance, threw down their arms, crying, "Quarter, quarter!"

All this time the guns of that ship had been firing, one or two of them depressed by Simpson's orders so as to pierce the hull below the water-line, the rest sending their heavy shot ripping and tearing through the length of the Juno, which was unable to bring a single gun to bear in reply.

"Do you strike?" called Jones, from the break of the poop, his men massed behind him for a rush through the gangways, to one or two of the officers who were stationed there.

"Yes, yes, God help us," cried a wounded officer; "what else can we do?"

"Where's your captain?"

"Dead, sir," answered one of the seamen who had been seized by the boarders. "Him you killed when you boarded."

"Poor fellow, he was a brave man, and fought his ship well."

"Captain, the frigate is bearing down upon us!" cried one of the
Ranger's men.

"Ay, ay. Well, gentlemen, we cannot take possession, so we will have to leave you to your consort," he said to the British officers. "Give the captain of the Acasta the compliments of Captain John Paul Jones, of the American Continental ship Ranger, and say that he will find me in the British Channel. Thank him for our entertainment to-night," he said, bowing courteously, and then—"Back to the ship, all you Rangers.—Let that man's sword alone, sirrah! He used it well, let it remain with him on his own ship; but first haul down and bring the Juno's flag with us."

The men hastily scrambled over the rails to their own ship, the grapnels were cut loose, and none too soon the ship slowly gathered way and slipped by the stern of the Juno, whose mizzenmast fell a moment after, and she lay rolling, a ghastly shattered hulk on the waters, fire breaking out forward.

The frigate, coming down rapidly on the starboard tack, luffed up into the wind, and fired a broadside at the rapidly disappearing Ranger, which, however, did no harm, and was only answered by a musket-shot in contempt, and then she ranged down beside her battered and shattered consort. As soon as she reached the side of the Juno she was hove to, and a boat was sent off at once. An officer stepped on board. He was horrified at the scene of carnage which presented itself. The ship aloft was a wreck, the decks were a perfect shambles, wounded and dying men lay around in every position. The masts were gone, the ship was full of shot-holes, the water was rushing and gurgling in through the shot-holes below the waterline, flames were breaking out forward.

"Where is Captain Burden?" cried the officer.

"Dead," replied the wounded first lieutenant, in a hollow voice.

"Did you strike?"

"Yes."

"What was the ship with which you fought?"

"The American ship Ranger, Captain John Paul Jones. He says he will see you in the English Channel. Oh, God, Lawless, isn't this awful? Three-fourths of ours are dead or wounded! The cursed rebel captured the Mellish, we ranged alongside at quarters; they got in the first broadside; the maintopmast went, then the jib; they fell off, raked us through the stern, boarded; Jones cut down Burden with his sword; we could not get a gun to bear, they were pounding through us. We could not keep the men at quarters, we struck; they took our flag too; then you came down, and he sheered off; then the mizzenmast went. I expect the fore will go next."

"What's his force? Was it a frigate?"

"I can answer that," said the brave master of the Mellish, who had gained the Juno and fought well in the fight; "she's a sloop of eighteen guns."

"Less than ours! We have twenty-two. Oh, Lawless, what a disgrace! I can't understand it. Our men did well. And she goes free, and look at us!"

"Ship is making water fast; we can't get at the fire forward either, sir," reported one of the Juno's officers.

"Good God, can't we save the ship?" queried Lieutenant Lawless, of the
Acasta.

"No, it will be as much as we can do to get off the wounded, I fear."

"Back," cried Lawless, turning to the cutter in which they had come, "to the Acasta, and tell her to send all her boats alongside; this ship is a perfect wreck. She must sink in a few minutes. We have hardly time to get the wounded off. Lively, bear a hand for your lives, men."

However, in spite of all that could be done by willing and able hands, some of the helpless men were still on board when the Juno pitched forward suddenly and then sank bow foremost into the dark waters, carrying many of her gallant defenders into the deep with her. Among them on the quarter-deck lay the body of the dead captain, the sword which the magnanimity of his conqueror had left to him lying by his side.

And this is war upon the sea!

CHAPTER XV

Chased by a Frigate

Three days after the sinking of the Juno, the Mellish, which had escaped in the dark without pursuit from the fleet, after witnessing the successful termination of the action between the two sloops of war, was heading about northwest-by-west for Massachusetts Bay and Boston, with single reefs in her topsails and close hauled on the starboard tack. Seymour's orders had left him sufficient discretion as to his destination, but Boston being the nearest harbor held by the Americans, he had deemed it best to try to make that port rather than incur further risk of recapture by making the longer voyage to Philadelphia.

The weather had turned cloudy and cold; there was a decided touch of winter in the air. The men were muffled up in their pea-jackets, and the little squad of prisoners, tramping up and down, taking exercise and air under a strong guard, looked decidedly uncomfortable, not to say disgusted, with the situation.

It had been a matter of some difficulty to disarm the prisoners, especially the soldiers, and to feed and properly exercise them; but the end had been successfully arrived at through the prudence and ability of Seymour, who was well aided by Talbot and Wilton, and who profited much by many valuable suggestions born of the long experience of the old boatswain.

On this particular afternoon, about ten days before Christmas, the young captain, now confident of carrying his prize into the harbor, felt very much relieved and elated by his apparent command of the situation. He knew what a godsend the ship's cargo, which he and Talbot had ascertained to be even more valuable than had been represented, would be to the American army. It might be said without exaggeration, that the success of the great cause depended upon the fortune of that one little ship under his command. Talbot had properly classified and inventoried the cargo according to orders, and was prepared to make immediate distribution of it upon their arrival in port. Both of the young men were as happy as larks, and even the thought of their captured friends did not disquiet them as it might under less fortunate circumstances, for among the captives on the Mellish was a Colonel Seaton of the Highlanders, whom they trusted to be able to exchange for Colonel Wilton, and they did not doubt in that case that Katharine would return with her father.

While indulging themselves in these rosy dreams, natural to young men in the elation of spirit consequent upon the events of their short and exciting cruise,—the capture and successful escape of the transport, the apparent assurance of bringing her in, and the daring and brilliant night-action which they had witnessed,—they had neither of them ventured to touch upon the subject uppermost in each heart,—the love each bore for Katharine,—and the subject still remained a sealed book between them. The cruise was not yet over, however, and fate had in store for them several more exciting occurrences to be faced. Seymour, often accompanied by Talbot, and Wilton, always accompanied by Bentley, kept watch and watch on the brief cruise of the transport. On the afternoon of the third day, about three bells in the afternoon watch, or half after one o'clock, Seymour, whose watch below it was, was called from the cabin by old Bentley, who informed him that a suspicious sail had been seen hull down to the northeast, and Wilton had desired that his commanding officer be informed of it. Seizing a glass and springing to his feet, he hastened on deck.

"Well, Mr. Wilton," he said to that young officer, proud of his responsibilities, "you keep a good lookout. Where away is the sail reported?"

"Broad off the weather bow, sir, due north of us. You can't see her from the deck yet," replied Wilton, flushing with pride at the compliment.

Seymour sprang into the main rigging, and rapidly ascended to the crosstrees, glass in hand. There he speedily made out the topgallantsails of a large ship, having the wind on the quarter apparently, and slowly coming into view. He subjected her to a long and careful scrutiny, during which the heads of her topsails rose, confirming his first idea that she was a ship-of-war, and if so, without doubt, one of the enemy. She was coming down steadily; and if the two vessels continued on their present courses they would pass each other within gun-shot distance in a few hours, a thing not to be permitted under any circumstances, if it could be avoided. He continued his inspection a moment longer, and then closing the glass, descended to the deck with all speed by sliding down the back-stay.

"Forward, there!" he shouted. "Call the other watch, and be quick about it! Philip, step below and ask Mr. Talbot to come on deck at once. Bentley, that seems to be a frigate or a heavy sloop going free; she will be down on us in a few hours if we don't change our course. Take a look at her, man," he said, handing him the glass, "and let me know what you think of her."

While the men were coming on deck, Bentley leaped into the mizzen rigging and ran up the shrouds with an agility surprising in one of his gigantic figure and advanced age. After a rapid survey he came down swiftly. "It's an English frigate, and not a doubt of it, sir, and rising very fast."

"I thought so. Man the weather braces! Up with the helm! Bear a hand now, my hearties! Now, then, all together! Brace in!" He himself set a good example to the short crew, who hastened to obey his rapid commands, by assisting the two seamen stationed aft to brail in the spanker, in which labor he was speedily joined by Talbot, who had come on deck. Young Wilton and Bentley lent the same assistance forward, and in an astonishingly brief time, considering her small crew, the Mellish, like the stranger, was going free with the wind on her quarter, her best point of sailing, her course now making a wide obtuse angle with that of the approaching ship.

"Now, then, men, lay aloft, and shake the reefs out of the topsails.
Stand by to loose the fore and main topgallantsails as well."

"Why, what's wrong, Seymour?" said Talbot, in surprise. "I rather expected we should be in Massachusetts Bay this evening, and here we are, heading south again. Isn't that Cape Cod,—that blue haze yonder? Why are we leaving it? What's the matter?"

"Take the glass, man; there, aft on the starboard quarter, a sail! You should be able to see her from the deck now. Can you make her out?"

"Yes, by heaven, it's a ship, and a large ship too! What is it, think you, Seymour?"

"An English ship, of course, a frigate; we have no ships like that in these waters, or in our navy, either—more's the pity."

"Whew! This looks bad for us."

"Well, we 're not caught yet by a long sight, Talbot. A good many leagues will have to be sailed before we are overhauled, and there 's many a slip 'twixt the cup and the lip, you know; that old stale maxim is truer on the sea than