CHAPTER XV
To the great delight of the young people on board the "Dolphin" the sun shone in a clear sky the next morning.
Soon after breakfast they were all on deck, as usual in pleasant weather, enjoying the breeze, the sight of passing vessels, and a distant view of the land.
The Captain and Violet sat near together with the two little ones playing about them, while Grandma Elsie, in a reclining chair, at no great distance, seemed absorbed in a book.
"Mamma is reading something sad, I know by the look on her face," said Walter, hurrying toward her, the others following. "What is it you are reading, Mamma, that makes you look so sorry?" he asked, putting an arm about her neck, and giving her a kiss. "Oh, that's Bancroft's History!"
"Yes," she said, "I was just looking over his account of the battles of Lexington and Concord, and some things he tells do make me sad though they happened more than a hundred years ago."
"Oh, please read them to us!" pleaded several young voices, all speaking at once.
"I will give you some passages," she said; "not the whole, because you have already been over that ground. It is what he tells of Isaac Davis that particularly interests me," and she began reading.
"At daybreak the minute-men of Acton crowded, at the drum-beat, to the house of Isaac Davis, their captain, who 'made haste to be ready.' Just thirty years old, the father of four little ones, stately in his person, a man of few words, earnest even to solemnity, he parted from his wife, saying, 'Take good care of the children;' and while she gazed after him with resignation, he led off his company.
"Between nine and ten the number of Americans on the rising ground above Concord Bridge had increased to more than four hundred. Of these there were twenty-five minute-men from Bedford, with Jonathan Wilson for their captain; others were from Westford, among them Thaxter, a preacher; others from Littleton, from Carlisle, and from Chelmsford. The Acton company came last and formed on the right. The whole was a gathering not so much of officers and soldiers as of brothers and equals, of whom every one was a man well known in his village, observed in the meeting-house on Sundays, familiar at town meetings and respected as a freeholder or a freeholder's son… 'The Americans had as yet received only uncertain rumors of the morning's events at Lexington. At the sight of fire in the village, the impulse seized them to march into the town for its defence.' But were they not subjects of the British king? Had not the troops come out in obedience to acknowledged authorities? Was resistance practicable? Was it justifiable? By whom could it be authorized? No union had been formed, no independence proclaimed, no war declared. The husbandmen and mechanics who then stood on the hillock by Concord river were called on to act, and their action would be war or peace, submission or independence. Had they doubted they must have despaired. Prudent statesmanship would have asked for time to ponder. Wise philosophy would have lost from hesitation the glory of opening a new era on mankind. The train-bands at Concord acted and God was with them.
"The American revolution grew out of the soul of the people, and was an inevitable result of a living affection for freedom, which set in motion harmonious effort as certainly as the beating of the heart sends warmth and color through the system. The rustic heroes of that hour obeyed the simplest, the highest, and the surest instincts, of which the seminal principle existed in all their countrymen. From necessity they were impelled toward independence and self-direction; this day revealed the plastic will which was to attract the elements of a nation to a centre, and by an innate force to shape its constitution.
"The officers, meeting in front of their men, spoke a few words with one another, and went back to their places. Barrett, the colonel, on horseback in the rear, then gave the order to advance, but not to fire unless attacked. The calm features of Isaac Davis, of Acton, became changed; the town school-master of Concord, who was present, could never afterward find words strong enough to express how deeply his face reddened at the word of command. 'I have not a man that is afraid to go,' said Davis, looking at the men of Acton, and drawing his sword, he cried, 'March!' His company, being on the right, led the way toward the bridge, he himself at their head, and by his side Major John Buttrick, of Concord, with John Robinson, of Westford, lieutenant-colonel in Prescott's regiment, but on this day a volunteer, without command.
"These three men walked together in front, followed by minute-men and militia, in double file, trailing arms. They went down the hillock, entered the byroad, came to its angle with the main road, and there turned into the causeway that led straight to the bridge. The British began to take up the planks; to prevent it, the Americans quickened their step. At this the British fired one or two shots up the river; then another, by which Luther Blanchard and Jonas Brown were wounded. A volley followed, and Isaac Davis and Abner Hosmer fell dead. Three hours before, Davis had bid his wife farewell. That afternoon he was carried home and laid in her bedroom. His countenance was pleasant in death. The bodies of two others of his company, who were slain that day, were brought to her house, and the three were followed to the village graveyard by a concourse of the neighbors from miles around. Heaven gave her length of days in the land which his self-devotion assisted to redeem. She lived to see her country reach the Gulf of Mexico and the Pacific; when it was grown great in numbers, wealth, and power, the United States in Congress bethought themselves to pay honors to her husband's martyrdom, and comfort her under the double burden of sorrow and of more than ninety years."
"Ninety years!" exclaimed Walter. "Oh what an old, old woman she was! I think they ought to have given it to her a great deal sooner, – don't you, Mamma?"
"I do, indeed," she replied. "What a dreadful time it was! The British soldiery behaved like savages or demons, – burning houses, murdering innocent unarmed people. One poor woman – a Mrs. Adams, ill in bed, with a baby only a week old – was driven out of her bed, out of her house, and had to crawl almost naked to a corn-shed with her little one in her arms, while the soldiers set fire to her house.
"They shot and killed an idiot perched on a fence looking at them as they passed; and they brutally murdered two aged, helpless, unarmed old men, stabbing them, breaking their skulls and dashing out their brains."
"I don't wonder the Americans shot down as many of them as they could!" exclaimed Max, in tones of hot indignation. "Men that did such things were not brave soldiers, but worse savages than the Indians. Oh, how I wish our people had had the abundance of good weapons and powder and balls that we have now! Then they'd have taught the insolent British a good lesson; they would soon have driven Gage and all his savage soldiery into the sea."
"I presume they would," said Mrs. Travilla; "but poor fellows! they were very destitute of such needed supplies. This is what Bancroft says about it: —
"All the following night, the men of Massachusetts streamed in from scores of miles around, old men as well as young. They had scarce a semblance of artillery or warlike stores, no powder, nor organization, nor provisions; but there they were, thousands with brave hearts, determined to rescue the liberties of their country.
"The night preceding the outrages at Lexington there were not fifty people in the whole colony that ever expected any blood would be shed in the contest; the night after, the king's governor and the king's army found themselves closely beleaguered in Boston."
"Did the news fly very fast all over the country, Mamma?" asked Walter.
"Very fast for those times," she replied; "you must remember that then they had neither railroads nor telegraph, but as Bancroft says, 'Heralds by swift relays transmitted the war messages from hand to hand, till village repeated it to village; the sea to the backwoods; the plains to the highlands; and it was never suffered to droop till it had been borne north and south, east and west, throughout the land.'"
"But there wasn't any more fighting till the battle of Bunker Hill, was there, Mamma?" asked Walter.
"Yes," she replied, "there was the taking of Ticonderoga and Crown Point early in May, by a party under the command of Ethan Allen; there were about a hundred 'Green Mountain Boys' and nearly fifty soldiers from Massachusetts besides the men of Connecticut. The thing was planned in Connecticut, and the expense borne there.
"Allen marched in the night to the shore of the lake opposite to Ticonderoga. A farmer named Beman offered his son Nathan as a guide, saying that he (the lad) had been used to playing about the fort with the boys of the garrison, and knew of every secret way leading into it.
"Allen accepted the offer, but there was a difficulty about getting boats in which to cross the lake. They had but few and day began to dawn. If the garrison should be aroused their expedition was likely to fail, for a great deal depended upon taking them by surprise; so Allen decided not to wait for the rear division to cross, but to make the attempt with the officers and eighty-three men who were already on that side. He drew up his men in three ranks on the shore and made them a little speech in a low tone: 'Friends and fellow-soldiers, we must this morning quit our pretensions to valour, or possess ourselves of this fortress; and inasmuch as it is a desperate attempt, I do not urge it on, contrary to will. You that will undertake voluntarily, poise your firelock.'
"Instantly every firelock was poised. 'Face to the right!' he cried, putting himself at their head, Benedict Arnold close at his side, and they marched quietly and steadily up to the gate.
"The sentinel there snapped his fusee at Allen, but it missed fire, and he retreated within the fort. The Americans rushed in after him, another sentinel made a thrust at one of them, but they ran upon the guard, raising the Indian war-whoop, Allen giving the sentinel a blow upon the head with his sword that made him beg for quarter.
"Of course the shout of our men had roused the garrison; and they sprang from their beds, and came rushing out only to be made prisoners.
"Then young Beman guided Allen to the door of the sleeping apartment of Delaplace, the commander. The loud shout of the Americans had waked him and his wife, and both sprang to the door as Allen gave three loud raps upon it with his sword and thundered out an order for the commander to appear if he wouldn't have his whole garrison sacrificed.
"Delaplace threw open the door, showing himself only half dressed, in shirt and drawers, with his pretty wife standing behind him peering over his shoulder. He immediately recognized Allen, for they were old friends, and assuming an air of authority, demanded his errand.
"Allen pointed to his men and said sternly, 'I order you instantly to surrender.'
"'By what authority do you demand it?' asked Delaplace.
"'In the name of the Great Jehovah and the Continental Congress,' thundered Allen, and raising his sword over his prisoner's head, commanded him to be silent and surrender immediately.
"Delaplace saw that it was useless to refuse, so surrendered, ordered his men to parade without arms, and gave them up as prisoners. There were forty-eight of them; and they, with the women and children, were sent to Hartford as prisoners of war."
"And what did our men get besides the soldiers and women and children, Mamma?" asked Walter.
"Cannon, and guns of various kinds, other munitions of war, a quantity of provisions and material for boat building, and so forth, besides the fortress itself, which Bancroft says had 'cost the British nation eight millions sterling, a succession of campaigns, and many lives, yet was won in ten minutes by a few undisciplined volunteers, without the loss of life or limb.'"
"Oh, that was the very best of it, I think," said Gracie. "War wouldn't be so very, very dreadful if it was all like that, – would it, Grandma Elsie?"
"No dear," Mrs. Travilla replied, smiling lovingly upon the little girl, and softly smoothing her golden curls.
"Was there any other fighting before the battle of Bunker Hill, Mamma?" queried Walter.
"Yes," she said, "there were some encounters along this New England coast."
"And Crown Point was taken too, – wasn't it, Mamma?" asked Rosie.
"Ah, yes! I had forgotten that part of my story," replied her mother. "It was taken two days later than Ticonderoga, also without any bloodshed. About the same time that Ticonderoga was taken, there was a British ship called the 'Canceaux' in the harbour of Portland. The captain's name was Mowat. On the 11th of May he and two of his officers were on shore, when a party of sixty men from Georgetown seized them.
"The officer who had been left in command of the vessel threatened what he would do if they were not released, and even began to bombard the town. Mowat was released at a late hour, but felt angry and revengeful, and succeeded in rousing the same sort of feeling in the admiral of the station.
"A month later the people of a town called Machias seized the captain of two sloops that had come into their harbour to be freighted with lumber, and convoyed by a king's cutter called the 'Margaretta.' The lumber was for the British army at Boston, and they, the Americans, got possession of the sloops, after taking the captain, whom they seized in the 'meeting-house.' The 'Margaretta' didn't fire on the town, but slipped away down the harbour in the dark that night, and the next morning sailed out to sea.
"Then forty men, under the command of Capt. Jeremiah O'Brien, pursued her in one of the captured sloops, and as she was a dull sailer, soon overtook her. An obstinate sea-fight followed; the captain of the cutter was mortally wounded, six of his men not so badly, and after an hour's fight the 'Margaretta's' flag was struck. It was the first time the British flag was struck on the ocean to Americans."
"But not the last by any means!" cried Max, exultantly; "whatever may be said of our land forces, America has always shown herself superior to Great Britain on the sea. I'm very proud of the fact that though at the beginning of the last war with England we had but twenty vessels (exclusive of one hundred and twenty gun-boats), while England had ten hundred and sixty, we whipped her."
"Quite true, Max," Mrs. Travilla said, smiling at the boy's ardent patriotism, "and I am as proud of the achievements of our navy as you can be; but let us give all the glory to God who helped the oppressed in their hard struggle against their unjust and cruel oppressor."
"Yes, ma'am, I know," he answered; "America was most shamefully oppressed, and it was only by God's help that she succeeded in putting a stop to the dreadful treatment of her poor sailors. Just to think of the insolent way the British naval officers used to have of boarding our vessels and carrying off American-born men, who loved their own country and wanted to serve her, and forcing them even to serve against her, fairly makes my blood boil!" Max had in his excitement unconsciously raised his voice so that his words reached his father's ear.
The captain looked smilingly at Violet, "My boy is an ardent patriot," he said in a pleased tone. "Should we ever have another war (which Heaven forbid!), I hope he will do his country good service."
"I am sure he will if he lives to see that day," returned Violet; "but I agree with you in hoping the need of such service will never arise."
"But let us always remember," Evelyn said in reply to Max, "that those cruel, unjust deeds, and the feelings that prompted them, were not those of the English people, but of their Government and the aristocracy, – I suppose because of their hatred of republicanism, their desire to keep the masses of the people down, and themselves rich and powerful."
"Yes," said Rosie, "it was just pure pride and selfishness. They didn't like the doctrine of our Declaration of Independence that 'all men are created equal.'"
Mrs. Travilla was turning over the leaves of her book again.
"Mamma," said Walter, "haven't you something more to read to us?"
"Yes," she replied, and began at once.
"On the ninth (of June) the 'Falcon,' a British sloop of war, was seen from Cape Ann in chase of two schooners bound to Salem. One of these was taken; a fair wind wafted the other into Gloucester harbor. Linzee, the captain of the 'Falcon,' followed with his prize, and, after anchoring, sent his lieutenant and thirty-six men in a whale-boat and two barges to bring under his bow the schooner that had escaped.
"As the barge men boarded her at her cabin windows, men from the shore fired on them, killing three and wounding the lieutenant in the thigh. Linzee sent his prize and a cutter to cannonade the town. They did little injury; while the Gloucester men, with the loss of but two, took both schooners, the barges, and every man in them, Linzee losing half his crew."
"How vexed he must have been!" laughed Lulu. "Did he ever go back to take revenge, Grandma Elsie?"
"No, I think not," she said, "though Gage and the British admiral planned to do so, and also to wreak vengeance on the people of Portland, – then called Falmouth, – where, as you probably remember, Mowat had been held prisoner for a few hours in May of that same year.
"On the morning of the 16th of October Mowat again appeared in their harbour in command of a ship of sixteen guns, attended by three other vessels, and at half-past nine in the morning began firing upon the town.
"In five minutes several houses were in a blaze; then a party of marines landed and spread the conflagration. He burned down about three fourths of the town, – a hundred and thirty dwelling-houses, the public buildings, and a church, – and shattered the rest of the houses with balls and shells. The English account makes the destruction still greater. So far north winter begins early, and it was just at the beginning of a severe one that he thus turned the poor people of that town out of house and home into the cold, in poverty and misery."
"That was a Christian deed worthy of a Christian king," remarked Rosie, scornfully.
"Bancroft says," continued her mother, "that the indignation of Washington was kindled by 'these savage cruelties, this new exertion of despotic barbarity.' General Green said, 'Death and destruction mark the footsteps of the enemy; fight or be slaves is the American motto.'"
"And who wouldn't rather fight and die fighting, than be a slave?" cried Max, his eyes flashing. "Grandma Elsie," he said, "you haven't told us a word about the American navy. Didn't they begin one about that time?"
"I think they did, Max," was her reply; "but suppose we call upon your father to tell us about it. He is doubtless better informed than I in everything relating to that branch of the service."
"Papa, will you?" asked the lad, turning toward the Captain and raising his voice a little.
"Will I do what, my son?"
"Tell us about the doings of the navy in Revolutionary times, sir," replied Max, "as Grandma Elsie has been telling of the fights on land."
"Oh, do, Papa; won't you?" pleaded Lulu, hastening to his side, the other girls and Walter following, while Max gallantly offered to move Grandma Elsie's chair nearer to his father and Violet, which she allowed him to do, thanking him with one of her rarely sweet smiles.
CHAPTER XVI
The Captain, gently putting aside the two little ones who were hanging lovingly about him, saw every one seated comfortably, and near enough to hear all he might say, then resuming his own seat, began the account they had asked for of the early doings of the embryo navy of their common country.
"We had no navy at all when the Revolutionary War began," he said. "Rhode Island, the smallest State in the Union, was the first of the colonies to move in the matter of building and equipping a Continental fleet. On October 3, 1775, its delegates laid before Congress the instructions they had received to do what they could to have that work begun.
"They met with great opposition there; but John Adams was very strongly in its favour, and did for it all in his power.
"On the 5th of October, Washington was authorized to employ two armed vessels to intercept British store-ships, bound for Quebec; on the 13th, two armed vessels, of ten and of fourteen guns, were voted; and seventeen days later, two others of thirty-six guns. That was the beginning of our navy; and it was very necessary we should have one to protect our seaport towns and destroy the English ships sent against us, also to make it more difficult and hazardous for them to bring over new levies of troops to deprive us of our liberties, and from using their vessels to destroy our merchantmen, and so put an end to our commerce.
"Rhode Island had bold and skilful seamen, some of whom had had something to do with British ships before the war began, – even as early as 1772.
"In that year there was a British armed schooner called the 'Gaspee,' in Narragansett Bay, sent there to enforce obnoxious British laws.
"Its officers behaved in so tyrannical a manner toward the Americans of the neighbourhood that at length they felt it quite unbearable; and one dark, stormy night in June, Capt. Abraham Whipple, a veteran sailor, with some brother seamen, went down the bay in open whale-boats, set the 'Gaspee' on fire, and burned her.
"The British Government of course wanted to punish them, but all engaged in the work of destruction were so true to each other that it was impossible to find out who they were; but three years later – in 1775, the year that the war began – the bay was blockaded by an English frigate, and in some way her commander learned that Whipple had been the leader of the men who destroyed the 'Gaspee.' He then wrote him a note."
"You, Abraham Whipple, on the seventeenth of June 1772, burnt his Majesty's vessel the 'Gaspee,' and I will hang you to the yard-arm."
"Whipple replied with a note."
To Sir James Wallace:
Sir, – Always catch a man before you hang him.
Abraham Whipple
"Good!" laughed Max; "and I think he never did catch him, – did he, Papa?"
"No, though he made every effort to do so, being greatly angered by the impudent reply."
"But you don't blame Whipple for answering him in that way, – do you, Papa?" queried Lulu.
"I can't say that I do," her father said with a slight smile. "And I think the legislature of Rhode Island did a right and wise thing in fitting out two armed vessels to drive Sir James and his frigate out of Narragansett Bay, giving the command of them, and thus the honour of firing the first gun in the naval service of the Revolution, to Captain Whipple."
"Oh, that was splendid!" cried several young voices.
"That gave Washington a hint," continued the Captain, "and he authorized the fitting out of several vessels as privateers, manning them with these sailor-soldiers."
"What is a privateer, Papa?" asked Gracie.
"A vessel belonging to some private person, or to more than one, sailing in time of war, with a license from Government to seize, plunder, and destroy the vessels of the enemy, and any goods they may carry, wherever found afloat."
"And how do they differ from transports, brother Levis?" asked Rosie.
"Transports are vessels used for the carrying of troops, stores, and materials of war," he answered.
"Did they do their work well, Captain?" asked Evelyn.
"Some did, and some did not," he answered. "The most successful was Capt. John Manly, who had been thirty years, or nearly that, on the sea. He was a skilful fisherman of Marblehead, and Washington commissioned him as captain.
"He was doubtless well acquainted with the qualifications of the sailors of that part of the coast, and knew how to select a choice crew, at all events he was very successful in annoying the enemy, and soon had captured three ships as they entered Boston Harbour. One of them was laden with just such things as were badly needed by the Americans, then besieging Boston, – heavy guns, mortars, and intrenching tools.
"Manly became a terror to the British, and they tried hard to catch him."
"If they had, I suppose they'd have hung him," remarked Lulu, half inquiringly.
"No doubt they would have been glad to do so," her father replied. "They sent out an armed schooner from Halifax to take him; but he was too wary and skilful a commander to be easily caught, and he went on roaming along the seacoast of New England, taking prize after prize from among the British ships."
"What was the name of his vessel, Papa?" asked Max.
"The 'Lee.' It was not long before Congress created a navy, and Manly was appointed a captain in it. He did gallant service until he was taken prisoner by Sir George Collier in the 'Rainbow.'"
"Did they hang him, Papa?" asked Gracie, with a look of distress.
"No; he was kept a prisoner, first on that vessel, then in Mill prison, Halifax, exchanged after a while, then again taken prisoner while in command of the 'Pomona,' held a prisoner at Barbadoes, but made his escape and took command of the privateer 'Jason.' He was afterward attacked by two privateers, ran in between them, giving both a broadside at once and making them strike their colours.
"Later he was chased by a British seventy-four, and to escape capture ran his ship aground on a sand-bar; afterward he succeeded in getting her off, fired thirteen guns as a defiance, and made his escape."
"Please tell us some more, brother Levis," urged Walter, as the Captain paused in his narrative; "we'd be glad to hear all the doings of our navy."
"That would make a long story indeed, my boy," the Captain said with a smile; "longer than could be told in one day or two. I will try to relate some few more occurrences of particular interest; and I advise you all to consult history on the subject after we get home. The coming winter will be a good time for that.
"In October, 1775, as I have already said, Congress resolved that a swift sailing-vessel, to carry ten carriage-guns and an appropriate number of swivels, should be fitted out for a cruise of three months for the purpose of intercepting British transports. They also formed a Marine Committee consisting of seven members, and ordered another vessel to be built, – the Marine Committee performing the duties now falling to the share of our Secretary of the Navy.
"Later in that same year Congress ordered thirteen more vessels to be built. They were the 'Washington,' 'Randolph,' 'Warren,' 'Hancock,' 'Raleigh,' each carrying thirty-two guns; the 'Effingham,' 'Delaware,' 'Boston,' 'Virginia,' 'Providence,' 'Montgomery,' 'Congress' and 'Trumble;' some of these were armed with twenty-eight, others with twenty-four guns."
"They made Abraham Whipple captain of one, – didn't they, Papa?" asked Max.
"Yes; Nicholas Biddle, Dudly Saltonstall and John B. Hopkins captains of the others, and Esek Hopkins commander-in-chief. He was considered as holding about the same rank in the navy that Washington did in the army, and was styled indifferently admiral or commodore.
"Among the first lieutenants appointed was John Paul Jones, who became a famous commander before the war was over, – a great naval hero. But you have all heard of him I think."
"Oh, yes," said Rosie. "It was he who commanded the 'Bonhomme Richard' in that hard-fought battle with the British ship 'Serapis.'"
"Yes," replied the Captain. "It was one of the most desperate conflicts on record, and resulted in victory for Jones and the 'Bonhomme Richard,' though she was so badly damaged, – 'counters and quarters driven in, all her lower-deck guns dismounted, on fire in two places, and six or seven feet of water in the hold' – that she had to be abandoned, and sank the next morning.
"Pearson the captain of the 'Serapis,' though defeated, had made so gallant a fight that he was knighted by the king. When Jones heard of it he said, 'He deserves it; and if I fall in with him again I'll make a lord of him.'
"I think he – Pearson – was more gallant than polite or generous; for on offering his sword to Jones after his surrender he said, 'I cannot, sir, but feel much mortification at the idea of surrendering my sword to a man who has fought me with a rope round his neck.'"
"Just like an Englishman!" exclaimed Max, hotly; "but what did Jones say in reply, Papa?"
"He returned the sword, saying, 'You have fought gallantly, sir, and I hope your king will give you a better ship.'"
"That was a gentlemanly reply," said Lulu, "and I hope Jones got the credit he deserved for his splendid victory."
"Europe and America rang with his praises," said her father. "The Empress of Russia gave him the ribbon of St. Ann, the King of Denmark a pension, and the King of France a gold-mounted sword with the words engraved upon its blade, 'Louis XVI., rewarder of the valiant assertor of the freedom of the sea.' He also made him a Knight of the Order of Merit.
"Nothing ever occurred afterward to dim his fame, and he is known in history as the Chevalier John Paul Jones."
Just here a passing vessel attracted the attention of the captain and the others, and it was not until some hours later that the conversation in regard to the doings of the navy was resumed.