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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Famous Privateersmen and Adventurers of the
+Sea, by Charles H. L. Johnston
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere 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
+
+
+Title: Famous Privateersmen and Adventurers of the Sea
+       Their rovings, cruises, escapades, and fierce battling
+       upon the ocean for patriotism and for treasure
+
+Author: Charles H. L. Johnston
+
+Release Date: October 19, 2008 [EBook #26960]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by K Nordquist, Sam W. and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was
+produced from images generously made available by The
+Internet Archive/American Libraries.)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+            Famous Privateersmen
+         AND ADVENTURERS OF THE SEA
+
+   Their rovings, cruises, escapades, and
+       fierce battling upon the ocean
+           for patriotism and for
+                  treasure
+
+
+                     By
+
+           CHARLES H. L. JOHNSTON
+
+ Author of "Famous Cavalry Leaders," "Famous
+    Indian Chiefs," "Famous Scouts," etc.
+
+
+                Illustrated
+
+
+                [Decoration]
+
+
+                   BOSTON
+              THE PAGE COMPANY
+                 PUBLISHERS
+
+
+
+
+  FAMOUS LEADERS SERIES
+  BY
+  CHARLES H. L. JOHNSTON
+
+  Each one volume, large 12mo, illustrated, $1.50
+
+  [Decoration]
+
+    FAMOUS CAVALRY LEADERS
+    FAMOUS INDIAN CHIEFS
+    FAMOUS SCOUTS
+    FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN
+    FAMOUS FRONTIERSMEN
+
+  [Decoration]
+
+  THE PAGE COMPANY
+  53 Beacon Street, Boston, Mass.
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: From "The Army and Navy of the United States."
+    "AGAIN THE CANNON MADE THE SPLINTERS FLY."
+    (_See page 273._)]
+
+
+
+
+  _Copyright, 1911,_
+  BY L. C. PAGE & COMPANY
+  (INCORPORATED)
+
+
+  _All rights reserved_
+
+
+  First Impression, November, 1911
+  Second Impression, November, 1914
+
+
+  THE COLONIAL PRESS
+  C. H. SIMONDS CO., BOSTON, U. S. A.
+
+
+
+
+     I DEDICATE THIS BOOK TO THE HAPPY MEMORY OF
+
+                 George Alfred Henty
+
+    THE MOST STIMULATING AUTHOR OF BOOKS FOR BOYS
+      THAT THE PAST HALF CENTURY HAS PRODUCED,
+        AND A WRITER WHO HAS KEPT ALIVE THE
+        SPIRIT OF MANLY SPORT AND ADVENTURE
+          WHICH HAS MADE THE ANGLO-SAXON
+        PEOPLE A RACE OF WORLD CONQUERORS.
+                  MAY THEY NEVER
+                   RETROGRADE!
+
+
+
+
+_Thanks are due the Librarian of Congress, and particularly to Mr.
+Roberts of the Department of Prints, for numerous courtesies extended
+to the author during the compilation of this volume._
+
+
+
+
+PREFACE
+
+
+MY DEAR BOYS:--The sea stretches away from the land,--a vast sheet of
+unknown possibilities. Now gray, now blue, now slate colored, whipped
+into a thousand windrows by the storm, churned into a seething mass of
+frothing spume and careening bubbles, it pleases, lulls, then
+terrorizes and dismays. Perpetually intervening as a barrier between
+peoples and their countries, the wild, sobbing ocean rises, falls and
+roars in agony. It is a stoppage to progress and contact between races
+of men and warring nations.
+
+In the breasts of all souls slumbers the fire of adventure. To
+penetrate the unknown, to there find excitement, battle, treasure, so
+that one's future life can be one of ease and indolence--for this men
+have sacrificed the more stable occupations on land in order to push
+recklessly across the death-dealing billows. They have battled with
+the elements; they have suffered dread diseases; they have been
+tormented with thirst; with a torrid sun and with strange weather;
+they have sorrowed and they have sinned in order to gain fame,
+fortune, and renown. On the wide sweep of the ocean, even as on the
+rolling plateau of the once uninhabited prairie, many a harrowing
+tragedy has been enacted. These dramas have often had no
+chronicler,--the battle was fought out in the silence of the watery
+waste, and there has been no tongue to tell of the solitary conflict
+and the unseen strife.
+
+Of sea fighters there have been many: the pirate, the fillibusterer,
+the man-of-warsman, and the privateer. The first was primarily a
+ruffian and, secondarily, a brute, although now and again there were
+pirates who shone by contrast only. The fillibusterer was also engaged
+in lawless fighting on the sea and to this service were attracted the
+more daring and adventurous souls who swarmed about the shipping ports
+in search of employment and pelf. The man-of-warsman was the
+legitimate defender of his country's interests and fought in the open,
+without fear of death or imprisonment from his own people. The
+privateersman--a combination of all three--was the harpy of the
+rolling ocean, a vulture preying upon the merchant marine of the enemy
+to his country, attacking only those weaker than himself, scudding off
+at the advent of men-of-warsmen, and hovering where the guileless
+merchantman passed by. The privateersman was a gentleman adventurer, a
+protected pirate, a social highwayman of the waters. He throve, grew
+lusty, and prospered,--a robber legitimized by the laws of his own
+people.
+
+So these hardy men went out upon the water, sailed forth beneath the
+white spread of new-made canvas, and, midst the creaking of spars, the
+slapping of ropes, the scream of the hawser, the groan of the
+windlass, and the ruck and roar of wave-beaten wood, carved out their
+destinies. They fought. They bled. They conquered and were defeated.
+In the hot struggle and the desperate attack they played their parts
+even as the old Vikings of Norway and the sea rovers of the
+Mediterranean.
+
+Hark to the stories of those wild sea robbers! Listen to the tales of
+the adventurous pillagers of the rolling ocean! And--as your blood is
+red and you, yourself, are fond of adventure--ponder upon these
+histories with satisfaction, for these stalwart seamen
+
+    "Fought and sailed and took a prize
+    Even as it was their right,
+    Drank a glass and kissed a maid
+    Between the volleys of a fight.
+    _Don't_ begrudge their lives of danger,
+    _You_ are better off by far,
+    But, if war again comes,--stranger,
+    Hitch _your_ wagon to their star."
+
+                    CHARLES H. L. JOHNSTON.
+
+
+
+
+    The bugle calls to quarters,
+    The roar of guns is clear,
+    Now--ram your charges home, Lads!
+    And cheer, Boys! Cheer!
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+
+                                                             PAGE
+    PREFACE                                                   vii
+
+    CARLO ZENO: HERO OF THE VENETIAN REPUBLIC                   1
+
+    SIR FRANCIS DRAKE: ROVER AND SEA RANGER                    23
+
+    SIR WALTER RALEIGH: PERSECUTOR OF THE SPANIARDS            53
+
+    JEAN BART: THE SCOURGE OF THE DUTCH                        83
+
+    DU GUAY-TROUIN: THE GREAT FRENCH "BLUE"                   113
+
+    EDWARD ENGLAND: TERROR OF THE SOUTH SEAS                  137
+
+    WOODES ROGERS: THE BRISTOL MARINER                        153
+
+    FORTUNATUS WRIGHT: THE MOST HATED PRIVATEERSMAN
+      OF THE MEDITERRANEAN SEA                                173
+
+    GEORGE WALKER: WINNER OF THE GAMEST SEA FIGHT
+      OF THE ENGLISH CHANNEL                                  199
+
+    JOHN PAUL JONES: THE FOUNDER OF THE AMERICAN
+      NAVY                                                    239
+
+    CAPTAIN SILAS TALBOT: STAUNCH PRIVATEERSMAN OF
+      NEW ENGLAND                                             283
+
+    CAPTAIN "JOSH" BARNEY: THE IRREPRESSIBLE YANKEE           299
+
+    ROBERT SURCOUF: THE "SEA HOUND" FROM ST. MALO             319
+
+    LAFITTE: PRIVATEER, PIRATE, AND TERROR OF THE
+      GULF OF MEXICO                                          341
+
+    RAPHAEL SEMMES: DESPOILER OF AMERICAN COMMERCE            373
+
+    EL CAPITAN                                                393
+
+    RETROSPECT                                                397
+
+
+
+
+LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
+
+
+                                                             PAGE
+    "AGAIN THE CANNON MADE THE SPLINTERS FLY"
+      (_See page 273_)                             _Frontispiece_
+
+    ZENO'S FLEET                                               18
+
+    SIR FRANCIS DRAKE                                          28
+
+    DRAKE'S GREATEST VICTORY ON THE SPANISH MAIN               44
+
+    YOUNG RALEIGH AND A COMPANION LISTENING TO TALES OF
+      THE SPANISH MAIN                                         55
+
+    SIR WALTER RALEIGH                                         60
+
+    JEAN BART                                                  86
+
+    "JEAN BART LED HIS BOARDERS OVER THE SIDE OF THE
+      DUTCH VESSEL"                                           108
+
+    COMBAT BETWEEN DU GUAY-TROUIN AND VAN WASSENAER           135
+
+    "'LEFT US ENGAGED WITH BARBAROUS AND INHUMAN ENEMIES'"    146
+
+    "THE BOARDERS WERE REPULSED WITH GREAT SLAUGHTER"         193
+
+    ACTION BETWEEN THE "GLORIOSO" AND THE "KING GEORGE"
+      AND "PRINCE FREDERICK" UNDER GEORGE WALKER              231
+
+    AMERICAN PRIVATEER TAKING POSSESSION OF A PRIZE           239
+
+    "BEGAN TO HULL THE 'DRAKE' BELOW THE WATER-LINE"          261
+
+    "THEY SWARMED INTO THE FORECASTLE AMIDST FIERCE
+      CHEERS"                                                 277
+
+    "TALBOT, HIMSELF, AT THE HEAD OF HIS ENTIRE CREW,
+      CAME LEAPING ACROSS THE SIDE"                           289
+
+    AMERICAN PRIVATEER CAPTURING TWO ENGLISH SHIPS            298
+
+    "SURCOUF SCANNED HER CAREFULLY THROUGH HIS GLASS"         336
+
+    RAPHAEL SEMMES                                            376
+
+    "THE MEN WERE SHOUTING WILDLY, AS EACH PROJECTILE
+      TOOK EFFECT"                                            386
+
+
+
+
+CARLO ZENO
+
+HERO OF THE VENETIAN REPUBLIC
+
+(1344-1418)
+
+
+    "Paradise is under the shadow of swords."--MAHOMET.
+
+
+CARLO ZENO
+
+HERO OF THE VENETIAN REPUBLIC
+
+(1344-1418)
+
+    Zeno, noble Zeno, with your curious canine name,
+    You shall never lack for plaudits in the golden hall of fame,
+    For you fought as well with galleys as you did with burly men,
+    And your deeds of daring seamanship are writ by many a pen.
+    From sodden, gray Chioggia the singing Gondoliers,
+    Repeat in silvery cadence the story of your years,
+    The valor of your comrades and the courage of your foe,
+    When Venice strove with Genoa, full many a year ago.
+
+
+The torches fluttered from the walls of a burial vault in ancient
+Venice. Two shrouded figures leaned over the body of a dead warrior,
+and, as they gazed upon the wax-like features, their eyes were filled
+with tears.
+
+"See," said the taller fellow. "He has indeed led the stalwart life.
+Here are five and thirty wounds upon the body of our most renowned
+compatriot. He was a true hero."
+
+"You speak correctly, O Knight," answered the other. "Carlo Zeno was
+the real warrior without fear and without reproach. He has fared
+badly at the hands of the Republic. But then,--is this not life? Those
+most worthy seem never to receive their just compensation during their
+living hours. It is only when they are dead that a tardy public gives
+them some recognition of the great deeds which they have done, the
+battles which they have fought, and the honor which they have brought
+to their native land. Alas! poor Zeno! He--the true patriot--has had
+but scant and petty praise."
+
+So saying the two noble Venetians covered the prostrate form of the
+dead warrior--for they had lifted the brown robe which enshrouded
+him--and, with slow faltering steps, they left the gloomy chamber of
+death.
+
+Who was this Venetian soldier, who, covered with the marks of battle,
+lay in his last sleep? Who--this hero of war's alarms? This patriotic
+leader of the rough-and-ready rovers of the sea?
+
+It was Carlo Zeno,--a man of the best blood of Venice,--who,
+commanding fighting men and fighting ships, had battled strenuously
+and well for his native country.
+
+The son of Pietro Zeno and Agnese Dandolo, this famous Venetian had
+been well bred to the shock of battle, for his father was for some
+time Governor of Padua, and had won a great struggle against the
+Turks, when the careening galleys of the Venetian Squadron grappled
+blindly with the aggressive men of the Ottoman Empire. There were ten
+children in the family and little Carlo was named after the Emperor
+Charles IV, who sent a retainer to the baptism of the future seaman,
+saying, "I wish the child well. He has a brave and noble father and I
+trust that his future will be auspicious."
+
+Little Carlo was destined for the Church, and, with a Latin eulogium
+in his pocket (which his Venetian school-master had written out for
+him) was sent to the court of the Pope at Avignon. The sweet-faced boy
+was but seven years of age. He knelt before the prelate and his
+retainers, reciting the piece of prose with such precision, grace, and
+charm, that all were moved by his beauty, his memory, his spirit, and
+his liveliness of person.
+
+"You are indeed a noble youth," cried the Pope. "You shall come into
+my household. There you shall receive an education and shall be a
+canon of the cathedral of Patras, with a rich benefice."
+
+But little Carlo did not remain. Although dressed like a mimic priest
+and taught with great care, the hot blood of youth welled in his veins
+and made him long for a life more active and more dangerous. So he
+looked about for adventure so thoroughly that he was soon able to have
+his first narrow escape, and a part in one of those many brawls which
+were to come to him during his career of war and adventure.
+
+Sent by his relations to the University of Padua, he was returning to
+Venice from the country, one day, when a man leaped upon him as he
+walked down a narrow road.
+
+"Who are you?" cried Carlo fearfully.
+
+But the fellow did not answer. Instead,--he struck him suddenly with
+a stout cudgel--knocked him senseless on the turf, took all the
+valuables which he had, and ran silently away into the gloom.
+
+Little Carlo came to his senses after many hours, and, staggering
+forward with weakened steps, reached Mestre, where kind friends
+dressed his wounds.
+
+"I shall catch this assailant," cried he, when he had revived. "He
+shall rue the day that he ever touched the person of Carlo Zeno." And
+forthwith he secured a number of bloodhounds with which to track the
+cowardly ruffian of the highway.
+
+Luck was with the future commander of the galleons and fighting men. He
+ran the scurvy assailant to earth, like a fox. He captured him, bound
+him and handed him over to the justice of Padua,--where--for the
+heinousness of the offense--the man was executed. So ended the first
+conflict in which the renowned Carlo Zeno was engaged,--successfully--as
+did most of his later battles.
+
+Not long afterwards young Zeno returned to his studies at the
+University, but here--as a lover of excitement--he fell into bad
+company. Alas! he took to gambling, and frittered away all of his
+ready money, so that he had to sell his books in order to play. The
+profit from these was soon gone. He was bankrupt at the early age of
+seventeen.
+
+Ashamed to go home, the future sea rover disappeared from Padua and
+joined a fighting band of mercenaries (paid soldiers) who were in the
+employ of a wealthy Italian Prince. He was not heard of for full five
+years. Thus, his relatives gave him up for dead, and, when--one
+day--he suddenly stalked into the house of his parents, his brothers
+and sisters set up a great shout of wonder and amazement. "Hurrah!"
+cried they, "the dead has returned to his own. This is no ghost, for
+he speaks our own native tongue. Carlo Zeno, you shall be given the
+best that we have, for we believed that you had gone to another
+world."
+
+Pleased and overwhelmed with affection, young Carlo stayed for a time
+with his family, and then--thinking that, as he had been trained for
+the priesthood, he had best take charge of his canonry of Patras--he
+went to Greece.
+
+"Hah! my fine fellow," said the Governor, when he first saw him, "I
+hear that you are fond of fighting. It is well. The Turks are very
+troublesome, just now, and they need some stout Venetian blood to hold
+them in check. You must assist us."
+
+"I'll do my best," cried Zeno with spirit, and, he had not been there
+a week before the Ottomans swooped down upon the city, bent upon its
+demolition. The young Venetian sallied forth--with numerous fighting
+men--to meet them, and, in the first clash of arms, received such a
+gaping wound that he was given up for dead. In fact, when carried to
+the city, he was considered to be without life, was stretched upon a
+long settee, was clothed in a white sheet, and prepared for interment.
+But in the early morning he suddenly opened his eyes, gazed
+wonderingly at the white shroud which covered him, and cried, with no
+ill humor,
+
+"Not yet, my friends. Carlo Zeno will disappoint all your fondest
+hopes. Once more I am of the world."
+
+And, so saying, he scrambled to his feet, much to the dismay of the
+sorrowing Venetians, who had been carefully spreading a number of
+flowers upon the prostrate form of the supposedly dead warrior.
+
+But so weak was the youthful hero that he had to be taken to Venice in
+order to recover. When strong again he resumed his studies for the
+ministry and was sent to Patras, a city that was soon threatened by an
+army of twelve thousand Cypriotes and Frenchmen.
+
+"Here, Zeno," cried the Bishop of Patras to the virile young
+stripling. "We have seven hundred riders in our city. With this mere
+handful, you must defend us against our enemies. The odds are fifteen
+to one against you. But you must struggle valiantly to save our
+beautiful capital."
+
+"Aye! Sire!" cried the youthful student of church history. "I shall do
+my best to free your capital from these invaders. May the God of Hosts
+be with us! My men salute you."
+
+So saying the valiant youth led his small and ill drilled company
+against the besiegers, and, so greatly did he harass his adversaries,
+that they abandoned the enterprise, at the end of six months; made
+peace; and retired.
+
+"Hail to Zeno!" cried many of the soldiers. "He is a leader well worth
+our respect. Without him the great city would have surely fallen. Yea!
+Hail to young Zeno."
+
+These words of praise reached the ears of a certain Greek Knight
+named Simon, and so roused his envy, that he audaciously accused Carlo
+of treachery, which was soon told to the hot-headed young warrior. He
+acted as one would well expect of him.
+
+"I challenge you to single combat," cried he. "The duel shall be
+fought in Naples under the eye of Queen Johanna."
+
+In vain Carlo's friends besought him to forgive the loose-tongued
+Simon--his patron, the Bishop, exhausted his eloquence in the endeavor
+to reconcile the two. The hot blood of youth would out. It was fight
+and no compromise. But before the trial, the bold and unyielding
+soldier threw up his position with the Church and married a rich and
+noble lady of Clarenta, whose fortune well supplanted the large income
+which he had forfeited by his resignation.
+
+Now honor called for deeds. Almost immediately he was obliged to leave
+for Naples in order to meet the detractor of his valor, and, to his
+surprise, the Queen spoke lightly of the quarrel. "It is a question of
+law," said she. "An inquiry shall be had. There must be no bloodshed."
+
+An inquiry was therefore in order, and it was a thorough one. "Simon
+is in the wrong," said the fellow acting as clerk for those sitting
+upon the case. "He must pay all the expenses to which Zeno has been
+put, and there shall be no duel."
+
+"My honor has been cleared," cried Zeno. "I must return to Greece."
+There--strange as it might seem--he was at once named Governor of a
+province, though not yet twenty-three. Events were going well with
+him. But his wife died, he was cheated of his dowry by her relations,
+and so he turned once more to Venice,--saddened, older and nearly
+penniless. The wheel of fortune had turned badly for this leader of
+fighting men and future general of white-winged galleons of the sea.
+
+But now there was a really good fight--such a fight as all true
+sailors love--a fight which tested the grit and courage of Zeno to the
+full. It was the first of those heroic deeds of arms which shed
+undying lustre on his name, and marked him as a seaman of the first
+rank,--a captain of true courage, resources and ambition.
+
+The Genoese (or inhabitants of Genoa) and the Venetians, were
+continually at war in these days, and when--in patriotic zeal--Carlo
+Zeno seized the island of Tenedos, the Venetian Senate, fearing lest
+the Genoese would seek to recover the lost possession, sent a fleet of
+fifteen ships to guard it, under one Pietro Mocenigo. There were also
+two other vessels, one commanded by Carlo Zeno himself. The mass of
+galleys floated on to Constantinople, for the Greeks had allied
+themselves with the Genoese, had seized a Venetian man-of-war, which
+had been captured, and had then retired. Three lumbering hulks were
+left to protect the fair isle of Tenedos,--under Zeno, the war-like
+Venetian.
+
+"Aha," said a Genoese seaman. "There are but three galleys left to
+save our isle of Tenedos. We shall soon take it with our superior
+force. Forward, O sailors! We'll have revenge for the attack of the
+wild men from Venice."
+
+"On! on!" cried the Genoese seamen, and without further ado,
+twenty-two galleys careened forward, their white sails bellying in the
+wind, their hawsers groaning, spars creaking, and sailors chattering
+like magpies on a May morning.
+
+Carlo Zeno had only three hundred regular soldiers and a few archers,
+but he occupied the suburbs of the town and waited for the attackers
+to land. This they did in goodly numbers, for the sea was calm and
+motionless, although it was the month of November.
+
+"Men!" cried the intrepid Zeno, "you are few. The enemy are as
+numerous as blades of grass. Do your duty! Fight like Trojans, and, if
+you win, your grateful countrymen will treat you as heroes should be
+respected. Never say die, and let every arrow find an opening in the
+armor of the enemy."
+
+The Genoese came on with shouts of expectancy, but they were met with
+a far warmer reception than they had anticipated. The air was filled
+with flying arrows, as, crouching low behind quickly constructed
+redoubts, the followers of the stout-souled Zeno busily stretched
+their bowstrings, and shot their feathered barbs into the mass of
+crowding seamen. Savage shouts and hoarse cries of anguish, rose from
+both attackers and attacked, while the voice of Zeno, shrilled high
+above the battle's din, crying: "Shoot carefully, my men, do not let
+them defeat us, for the eyes of Venice are upon you." So they
+struggled and bled, until the shadows began to fall, when--realizing
+that they were unable to take the courageous Venetians--the Genoese
+withdrew to their ships.
+
+There was laughter and song around the camp fires of Zeno's little
+band, that night, but their leader spoke critically of the morrow.
+
+"Sleep well, my men," said he, "for I know that our foes are well
+angered at the beating we have given them. Next morn we shall again be
+at war. Let us keep our courage and have as a battle cry, 'Venice! No
+retreat and no quarter!'"
+
+When morning dawned the Genoese were seen to land engines of war, with
+the apparent intention of laying siege to the town. Their preparations
+showed that they meant to attack upon the side farthest from the
+castle, so Carlo Zeno--the quick-witted--placed a number of his men in
+ambush, among a collection of half-ruined and empty houses which stood
+in that quarter. "Stay here, my men," said he, "and when the enemy has
+advanced, charge them with fury. We must win to-day, or we will be
+disgraced."
+
+Meanwhile the rest of the Venetians had retreated inland, and,
+crouching low behind a screen of brush, waited patiently for the
+Genoese to come up. "Be cautious," cried Zeno, "and when the enemy is
+within striking distance, charge with all the fury which you possess."
+
+"Aye! Aye! Good master," cried the stubborn soldiers. "We mark well
+what you tell us."
+
+Not long afterwards the attacking party came in view, and, without
+suspecting what lay in front, advanced with quick gait towards the
+supposedly defenseless town. But suddenly, with a wild yell, the
+followers of Zeno leaped from behind the screening bushes, and dashed
+towards them. At the same instant, the soldiers who had been placed in
+hiding, attacked suddenly from the rear. Arrows poured into the ranks
+of the Genoese, and they fell like wheat before the scythe of the
+reaper. Hoarse shouts, groans, and cries of victory and death, welled
+above the battle's din.
+
+In the midst of this affair Carlo Zeno gave a cry of pain. An arrow
+(poisoned 'tis said) had entered his leg and struck him to the ground.
+But, nothing daunted, he rose to cry shrilly to his men, "On! On!
+Drive them to the ocean." And, so well did his soldiers follow these
+commands, that the Genoese fled in confusion and disorder to their
+ships. The day was won.
+
+As was natural, Zeno paid no attention to his wound, and, when the
+enemy hurried to shore the next day for another attack, they were
+greeted with such a terrific discharge of artillery that they gave up
+their idea of capturing the island and sailed away amidst cries of
+derision from the delighted Venetians.
+
+"Hurrah!" cried they. "Hurrah for Zeno!" But so exhausted was the
+intrepid leader by reason of his wound that he fell into a spasm as if
+about to die. His iron constitution pulled him through, however, and
+soon he and the faithful band returned to Venice, covered with glory,
+and full satisfied with their hard won victory.
+
+The daring Zeno was well deserving of praise, for he had beaten a
+fleet and an army by sheer genius, with three ships and a handful of
+men. To Venice had been preserved the valuable island which guards the
+entrance to the Dardanelles, and to her it was to remain for years,
+although the Genoese tried many times and oft to wrest it from her
+grasp.
+
+Now came another struggle--the war of Chioggia--a struggle in which
+Carlo Zeno played a great and noble part,--a part, in fact, that has
+made his name a byword among the grateful Venetians: a part in which
+he displayed a leadership quite equal to that of a Drake, or a
+Hawkins, and led his fighting galleons with all the courage of a lion.
+Hark, then, to the story of this unfortunate affair! Hark! and let
+your sympathy be stirred for Carlo Zeno, the indefatigable navigator
+of the clumsy shipping of the Italian peninsula!
+
+For years the Republics of Genoa and Venice remained at peace, but,
+for years the merchants of the two countries had endeavored to outwit
+each other in trade; and, thus, when the Genoese seized several
+Venetian ships with rich cargoes, in 1350, and refused to give them
+up, war broke out between the rival Republics. In two engagements at
+sea, the Venetians were defeated; but in a third they were victorious,
+and forever sullied the banner of St. Mark, which flew from their
+Admiral's mast-head, by causing nearly five thousand prisoners of war
+to be drowned. Fired by a desire for immediate revenge upon their foe,
+the Genoese hurried a mighty fleet to sea, and ravaged the Italian
+coast up to the very doors of Venice itself. Several other
+engagements followed, in most of which the Venetians were defeated;
+and then there were twenty years of peace before another conflict.
+
+Finally war broke out afresh. Angry and vindictive, the Genoese bore
+down upon the Venetian coast in numerous lumbering galleys,
+determined--this time--to reach Venice itself, and to sack this rich
+and populous city. With little difficulty they captured Chioggia, a
+seaport, a populous city and the key to the lagoons which led to the
+heart of the capital. They advanced to the very outskirts of Venice,
+and their cries of joyous vindictiveness sounded strangely near to the
+now terrified inhabitants, who, rallying around their old generals and
+city fathers, were determined to fight to the last ditch.
+
+As winter came, the victoriously aggressive Genoese retreated to
+Chioggia, withdrawing their fleet into the safe harbor to await the
+spring; leaving only two or three galleys to cruise before the
+entrance, in case the now angered Venetians should attack. But they
+were to be rudely awakened from their fancied seclusion.
+
+"Lead us on, O Pisani," the Venetians had cried in the broad market
+space of their beloved city. "We must and will drive these invaders
+into their own country. Never have we received before such insults.
+On! On! to Chioggia."
+
+So, silent and vengeful, the Venetian fleet stole out to sea on the
+evening of December twenty-first. There were thirty-four galleys,
+sixty smaller armed vessels, and hundreds of flat-bottomed boats.
+Pisani was in the rear, towing two heavy, old hulks, laden with
+stones, to sink in the entrance of the harbor and bottle up the fleet,
+even as the Americans were to sink the _Merrimac_ in the Harbor of
+Santiago, many years afterwards.
+
+The Genoese were unready. The cruisers, on duty as sentinels, were not
+where they should have been, and so the gallant Pisani scuttled the
+hulks across the harbor entrance and caught the bold marauders like
+rats in a trap. The fleet of the enemy was paralyzed, particularly as
+another river's mouth, some two miles southward, was also blockaded.
+Smiles of satisfaction shone upon the faces of the outraged Venetians.
+
+Carlo Zeno was hurrying up with a strong fleet manned by veteran
+seamen, but the now victorious followers of Pisani wished to return to
+Venice.
+
+"It is the Christmas season," cried many. "We have fought like lions.
+We have shut up our enemy. We have averted the extreme danger. Let us
+return to our wives and our children!"
+
+"You cannot go," said Pisani, sternly. "You are the entire male
+population of Venice. Without you the great expedition will come to
+naught, and all of our toil will have been thrown away. Only be calm.
+Carlo Zeno will soon be here, and we can then take Chioggia!"
+
+Alas! Like Columbus, he saw himself upon the verge of losing the
+result of all his labor for lack of confidence in him upon the part of
+his men. He could not keep them by force, so wearily and anxiously he
+scanned the horizon for signs of an approaching sail.
+
+The days went slowly by for the lion-hearted Pisani. Carlo Zeno did
+not come. Day after day the valiant leader fearfully looked for the
+white-winged canvas of a Venetian galleon, but none came to view. On
+the thirtieth day of December his men were very mutinous.
+
+"We will seize the ships and return to-morrow to Venice," cried
+several. "We have had enough of war. Our wives and daughters cry to us
+to return."
+
+Pisani was desperate.
+
+"If Carlo Zeno does not come in forty-eight hours, the fleet may
+return to Lido," said he. "Meanwhile, keep your guns shooting at the
+enemy. We must make these Genoese feel that we shall soon attack in
+force."
+
+But Pisani's heart was leaden. Where, yes, where was Zeno? New Year's
+Day came, and, by his promise, he must let the Venetians go. What did
+this mean for him? It meant the fall of Venice, the end of the
+Republic, the destruction of the population with all that they
+possessed. He--their idol, their leader for ten days--could no longer
+lead, for the Venetians could not bear a little cold and hardship for
+his sake. Sad--yes, sad, indeed--was the face of the stout seaman as
+he gave one last despairing glance at the horizon.
+
+Ha! What was that? A thin, white mark against the distant blue! It
+grew larger and clearer. It was the sail of a galley. Another, and
+another, and another hove in sight,--eighteen in all, and driving
+along swiftly before a heavy wind. But, were they hostile, or
+friendly? That was the question. Was it Zeno, or were these more
+galleons of the Genoese? Then, joy shone in the keen eyes of Pisani,
+for the banner of St. Mark fluttered from the peak of the foremost
+ship, and floated fair upon the morning breeze. Hurrah! It was Carlo
+Zeno, the lion-hearted.
+
+God speed brave Zeno! He had been twice wounded in fights along the
+coast, en route, but nothing could diminish his energy, or dampen his
+ardor. He had laid waste the Genoese coast; he had intercepted convoys
+of grain; he had harassed the enemy's commerce in the East, and he had
+captured a huge vessel of theirs with five hundred thousand pieces of
+gold. Marvellous Zeno! Brave, courageous Venetian sea-dog, you are
+just in the nick of time!
+
+"Thanks be to Heaven that you have come," cried Pisani, tears welling
+to his eyes. "Now we will go in and take Chioggia. It means the end of
+the war for us. Again, I say, thanks be to Heaven."
+
+With renewed hope and confidence the Venetians now pushed the siege.
+Seeing that their fleet could never escape, the Genoese started to dig
+a canal to the open sea, by which the boats could be brought off
+during the night. The work was begun, but Carlo Zeno discovered it in
+time. Volunteers were called for, a force was soon landed, and, under
+the leadership of Zeno, marched to intercept the diggers of this, the
+only means of escape.
+
+"The Venetians are going towards 'Little Chioggia,'" cried many of the
+Genoese. "We must hasten there to stop them."
+
+[Illustration: From an old print.
+    ZENO'S FLEET.]
+
+But Zeno had only made a feint in this direction. Throwing his main
+force in the rear of the Genoese, he soon began to cut them up badly.
+They were seized with a panic. They fled towards the bridge of
+Chioggia, trampling upon each other as they ran, pursued and slashed
+to ribbons by Zeno's men. The bridge broke beneath the weight of the
+fugitives and hundreds were drowned in the canal, while thousands
+perished near the head of this fateful causeway. It was a great and
+signal victory for Zeno; the intrepid sea-dog and campaigner on land.
+
+This was a death blow. That night some of the garrison hastened to
+desert, and, as the siege progressed, the drinking water began to
+fail, the food gave out, and starvation stared the holders of Chioggia
+in the face. On the twenty-fourth of June the city surrendered; and
+four thousand one hundred and seventy Genoese, with two hundred
+Paduans--ghastly and emaciated--more like moving corpses than living
+beings--marched out to lay down their arms. Seventeen galleys, also,
+were handed over to the Venetians: the war-worn relics of the once
+powerful fleet which had menaced Venice itself.
+
+As a feat of generalship, Pisani's blockade of the Genoese fleet is
+rivalled by Sampson's blockade of Cervera's squadron at Santiago in
+1898, and the military operation by which Carlo Zeno tempted the
+garrison of Brondolo into the trap which he had set for them, and
+drove them, like a flock of sheep into Chioggia, by sunset, is surely
+a splendid feat of arms. All honor to this intrepid sea-dog of old
+Venice!
+
+How fickle is Dame Fortune! Jealous of the reputation of this noble
+Venetian, the patricians, whose advice, during the war, he had
+consistently declined to follow; refused to make him a Doge of the
+City. It was thought that the election of the bravest captain of the
+day might be dangerous to the Republic. Instead of doing him honor,
+they imprisoned him; and was he not the noblest patriot of them all?
+
+When over seventy years of age,--the greatest and truest
+Venetian--loaned a small sum of money to the Prince Carrara, once a
+power in Venetian politics. He had saved his country from destruction.
+He had served her with the most perfect integrity. Yet, he reaped the
+reward which fell to the share of nearly every distinguished Venetian;
+he was feared by the government; hated by the nobles whom he had
+out-stripped in honor, and was condemned to prison by men who were not
+worthy to loose the latchet of his shoes. Although he had often paid
+the mercenary soldiers to fight for Venice, in the War of Chioggia,
+from his own pocket, he was sent to jail for loaning money to an
+unfortunate political refugee.
+
+When called before the Council of Ten on the night of the twentieth of
+January, 1406, the warrant for his examination authorized the use of
+torture. But even the Ten hesitated at this.
+
+"He is a brave man," said one. "Pray allow him to go untouched."
+
+The prisoner admitted that he had loaned the money. His explanation
+was both honorable and clear. But the Ten were obdurate that night.
+
+"He shall go to the Pozzi prison for a year," said they. "Besides
+this, he shall suffer the perpetual loss of all offices which he has
+held."
+
+Like a brave man, Carlo Zeno accepted the sentence without a murmur,
+and his sturdy frame did not suffer from the confinement. For twelve
+years longer he lived in perfect health; made a pilgrimage to
+Jerusalem; commanded the troops of the Republic once again; defeated
+the Cypriotes, and died peacefully,--a warrior with a name of
+undiminished lustre, most foully tarnished by his own compatriots. His
+is a reputation of undying glory, that of his judges is that of
+eternal shame. All honor to Carlo Zeno, the valorous Venetian, who
+could fight a ship as well as a squadron of foot soldiers on land!
+_Salve, Venetia!_
+
+
+    "Dip the banner of St. Mark,
+    Dip--and let the lions roar.
+    Zeno's soul has gone above,
+    Bow--a warrior's life is o'er."
+
+
+
+
+HARKEE, BOYS!
+
+
+    Harkee, Boys! I'll tell you of the torrid, Spanish Main,
+    Where the tarpons leap and tumble in the silvery ocean plain,
+    Where the wheeling condors circle; where the long-nosed ant-bears sniff
+    At the food the Jackie "caches" in the Aztec warrior's cliff.
+
+    _Oh! Hurray for the deck of a galleon stout,_
+    _Hurray for the life on the sea,_
+    _Hurray! for the cutlass; the dirk; an' th' pike;_
+    _Wild rovers we will be._
+
+    Harkee, Boys! I'll tell you of the men of Morgan's band,
+    Of Drake and England--rascals--in the palm-tree, tropic land.
+    I'll tell you of bold Hawkins, how he sailed around the Horn.
+    And the Manatees went _chuck! chuck! chuck!_ in the sun-baked,
+        lazy morn.
+
+    _Oh! Hurray for the deck of a galleon stout,_
+    _Hurray for the life on the sea,_
+    _Hurray! for the cutlass; the dirk; an' th' pike;_
+    _Wild rovers we will be._
+
+    Harkee, Boys! You're English, and you come of roving blood,
+    Now, when you're three years older, you must don a sea-man's hood,
+    You must turn your good ship westward,--you must plough towards
+        the land
+    Where the mule-train bells go _tink! tink! tink!_ and the bending
+        cocoas stand.
+
+    _Oh! You will be off on a galleon stout,_
+    _Oh! You will be men of the sea,_
+    _Hurray! for the cutlass; the dirk; an' th' pike;_
+    _Wild rovers you will be._
+
+
+
+
+SIR FRANCIS DRAKE
+
+ROVER AND SEA RANGER
+
+(1540-1596)
+
+
+    "The man who frets at worldly strife
+    Grows sallow, sour, and thin;
+    Give us the lad whose happy life
+    Is one perpetual grin:
+    He, Midas-like, turns all to gold,--
+    He smiles, when others sigh,
+    Enjoys alike the hot and cold,
+    And laughs through wet and dry."
+
+                    --DRAKE.
+
+
+SIR FRANCIS DRAKE
+
+ROVER AND SEA RANGER
+
+(1540-1596)
+
+    Sing a song of stout dubloons,
+    Of gold and jingling brass,
+    A song of Spanish galleons,
+    Foul-bottomed as they pass.
+    Of roaring blades and stumbling mules,
+    Of casks of malmsey wine,
+    Of red, rip-roaring ruffians,
+    In a thin, meandering line.
+
+    _They're with Drake, Drake, Drake,_
+    _He can make the sword hilt's shake,_
+    _He's a rattling, battling Captain of the Main._
+    _You can see the Spaniards shiver,_
+    _As he nears their shelt'ring river,_
+    _While his eyelids never quiver_
+    _At the slain._
+
+        So,--
+        Here's to Drake, Drake, Drake,
+        Come--make the welkin shake,
+        And raise your frothing glasses up on high.
+        If you love a man and devil,
+        Who can treat you on the level,
+        Then, clink your goblet's bevel,
+        To Captain Drake.
+
+
+"Take care, boy, you will fall overboard. Take care and do not play
+with your brother near the edge of our good ship, for the water here
+is deep, and I know that you can swim but ill."
+
+The man who spoke was a rough, grizzled sea-dog, clad in an old
+jersey and tarpaulins. He stood upon the deck of an aged, dismantled
+warship, which--anchored in the shallow water near Chatham,
+England,--swung to and fro in the eddying currents. Around him, upon
+the unwashed deck, scampered a swarm of little children, twelve in
+all, and all of them his own.
+
+"Very good, Father," spoke the curly-haired youngster. "I'll mind what
+you tell me. You're wrong, though, when you say that I cannot swim,
+for I can, even to yonder shore. Do you want to see me do it?"
+
+"Nay, nay," chuckled the stout seaman. "You're a boy of courage,
+Francis. That I can well see. But do not try the water. It is cold and
+you will have a cramp and go under. Stick to the quarter-deck." And
+laughing softly to himself, he went below, where a strong smell of
+cooking showed that there was something upon the galley stove to feed
+his hungry crew of youthful Englishmen.
+
+It was surely a strange house to bring up a troop of merry children
+in. The sound of wind and waves was familiar to them at night and they
+grew to be strong and fearless. But is not this the proper way to rear
+a sea-dog?
+
+These little ducklings, descended from a Drake, must have early set
+their hearts upon adventure and a seafaring life. In fact, one of
+them, young Francis, was to be one of the best known seamen of the
+centuries and knighted for his services to the Crown. Reared in a
+ship, he, by nature, loved the sea as only a child of the ocean could
+have done. The brine ran in his blood.
+
+Being the son of a poor man, he was apprenticed to a master of a small
+vessel which used to coast along the shore and carry merchandise to
+France and the Netherlands. He learned his business well. So well,
+indeed, that at the death of the master of the vessel it was
+bequeathed "to Francis Drake, because he was diligent and painstaking
+and pleased the old man, his master, by his industry." But the
+gallant, young sea-dog grew weary of the tiny barque.
+
+"It only creeps along the shore," he said. "I want to get out upon the
+ocean and see the world. I will therefore enlist with my stout
+kinsmen, the Hawkins brothers, rich merchants both, who build and sail
+their own ships."
+
+This he did, and thus began the roving life of Francis Drake:
+dare-devil and scourge of the West Indian waters.
+
+About fifty years before this lusty mariner had been born, America was
+discovered by Christopher Columbus--an Italian sailor in the service
+of Spain--and this powerful country had seized a great part of the new
+found land. There was no love lost between the Spaniards and the men
+from the cold, northern British Isles and thus Francis Drake spent his
+entire career battling with the black-haired, rapacious, and
+avaricious adventurers who flew the banner of King Philip of Arragon.
+Sometimes he was defeated, more often he was successful. Hark, then,
+to the tale of his many desperate encounters upon the wide waters of
+the surging Atlantic.
+
+Drake had said, "I'm going to sea with the Hawkins and view the
+world," and, as John Hawkins was just about to sail for the West
+Indies in six ships, the youthful and eager mariner was given an
+opportunity to command a vessel called the _Judith_. The fleet at
+first had good success. Slaves were captured upon the African coast
+and were sold in the West Indies, though with difficulty, because the
+Spaniards had been forbidden by their king to trade with the English.
+Laden with treasure and spices, the ships were about to start for
+home, when fearful storms beset them. Their beams were badly
+shattered.
+
+"We must seek a haven," cried Hawkins. "Ready about and steer for Vera
+Cruz, the port of the City of Mexico! There we can buy food and repair
+our fleet!"
+
+"'Tis well," cried his men, and, aiming for the sheltering harbor,
+they soon ploughed into the smooth water of the bay. But there was
+consternation among the Spaniards of the town.
+
+"We have treasure here," they whispered to each other. "See, those
+English dogs have come to rob us! We must fight, brothers, and fight
+hard to keep the cruel Islanders away." And they oiled their pistols
+and sharpened their cutlasses upon their grindstones.
+
+[Illustration: SIR FRANCIS DRAKE.]
+
+But luck was with the inhabitants of Vera Cruz. Next morning thirteen
+careening galleys swept into the quiet waters of the bay and joy
+shone in the black eyes of the Spaniards.
+
+"It is a Mexican fleet," cried they. "It returns with a new Viceroy or
+Governor, from good King Philip of Spain." And they laughed
+derisively.
+
+But in the breasts of Drake and Hawkins there was doubt and suspicion.
+
+"They are sure to attack us," said Hawkins, moving among his men. "Let
+every fellow be upon his guard."
+
+The Spanish were full of bowings and scrapings. They protested their
+deep friendship for the English and wished to be moored alongside.
+
+"We are very glad to see you, English brothers," said one. "We welcome
+you to the traffic and trade of the far East." So they peacefully
+dropped anchor near the suspicious men of England, still smiling,
+singing, and cheerfully waving a welcome to the none-too-happy
+sailors.
+
+"Avast," cried Francis Drake, "and sleep on your arms, my Hearties,
+for to-morrow there'll be trouble, or else my blood's not British." He
+was but a young man, yet he had guessed correctly.
+
+As the first glimmer of day shone in the dim horizon, a shot awoke the
+stillness of the morn. Another and another followed in rapid
+succession. Then _boom!_ a cannon roared, and a great iron ball buried
+itself in the decking of the _Jesus_; the flagship of gallant Hawkins.
+
+"We're attacked," cried Drake. "Man the decks! Up sails and steer to
+sea! Fight as you never fought before! Strike and strike hard for
+dear old England!"
+
+But his warning almost came too late, for two Spanish galleons ranged
+alongside and swung grappling irons into his rigging in order to close
+with the moving vessel. The Englishmen struck at them with oars and
+hand-spikes, knocking the tentacles of the on-coming octopus aside,
+and, with sails flying and shots rattling, the _Judith_ bore towards
+the open sea.
+
+The fight was now furious. Two of the English ships were sunk and the
+_Jesus_, Hawkins' own boat, was so badly damaged that she lay
+apparently helpless in the trough of the surging ocean.
+
+"Back, my Hearties," cried Drake, "and we'll see what we can do to
+save our gallant captain."
+
+So back they sailed, and, firing their little cannon with rapidity,
+soon held off the Spanish ship which threatened Hawkins himself with
+capture. Some of the English sailors jumped into their boats and rowed
+away, some gave in to the Spaniards, and some fought relentlessly.
+Thus raged the battle until the evening.
+
+As night fell, Drake ordered the _Judith_ to put to sea, Hawkins
+followed, and wandering about in these unknown parts, with little
+water and a scarcity of food, hunger forced the weary sailors to eat
+hides, cats, dogs, mice, rats, parrots and monkeys.
+
+"It was the troublesome voyage," wrote Hawkins, and such, indeed, it
+had proved to be. Some of the sailors asked to be placed on land
+rather than risk shipwreck and starvation in the overcrowded boat.
+Some of them reached England after years of suffering and weary
+journeying to and fro. Some were captured by the Spaniards and were
+put to death as heretics. A few were sent to the galleys as slaves.
+Others, more fortunate, were rowed ashore to serve in monasteries,
+where the monks made kind and gentle masters.
+
+And what of the youthful and danger-loving Drake? Five days before the
+wind-swept _Jesus_ struggled into Plymouth harbor with Hawkins and a
+famine-driven crew, Drake and his own adventurous Englishmen steered
+the little _Judith_ to the rocky headland which hides this sheltering
+refuge from the fury of the sea.
+
+"I am indeed right glad to reach Merrie England again," said he, "for
+we have had a rough and dangerous voyage. The Spaniards are
+treacherous dogs. They betrayed us, and henceforth I, for one, shall
+show them no quarter."
+
+So saying he journeyed to London to see the good Queen Elizabeth.
+
+"It is impossible for me to wage war upon Philip of Spain," said the
+valiant Mistress of England's destinies, when she heard his story of
+loss of kinsmen, friends and goods of great value. "I have a poor
+country. The navy of my fathers has been ruined. I have no proper army
+with which to avenge the treachery of Spain, and I have trouble with
+both France and Scotland. If you would have revenge, take matters into
+your own hands."
+
+"Philip is the mightiest monarch in the world to-day," answered the
+well-bronzed mariner, bowing low. "I am only a humble seafarer
+without either ships or money, but, most gracious Majesty, I am going
+to help myself in my quarrel with the King of Spain. From henceforth
+there will be war to the death between myself and the men of the
+south."
+
+The good Queen smiled, for she truly loved a valiant man.
+
+"May God be with you," said she.
+
+It was not long before the danger-loving mariner was again headed for
+the West Indies and the Spanish Main, with a crew of seventy-three men
+and boys.
+
+"We believe in our leader," said one. "He will take us on to fortune
+and to fame." And this was the sentiment of all, for who does not love
+a voyage after gold and treasure?
+
+Ploughing relentlessly across the deep, the two ships which carried
+these roving blades, reached the palm-clad West Indies in twenty-five
+days. All were cheerful and gay, for before them was danger,
+excitement, battle, and Spanish gold. "Lead on, Captain Drake," cried
+one of the men. "We wish to land at Plymouth with our pockets stuffed
+with Spanish dubloons."
+
+"I'll take you to the seaport of Nombre de Dios," said the bluff sea
+ranger. "There is gold and silver in this spot, and by the hogshead.
+Furthermore," he added chuckling, "most of it will be in the hold of
+our stout ships, the _Pascha_ and the _Swan_, before another moon."
+
+So the sailors were drilled in attack and sword play, while arms were
+distributed, which, up to now, had been kept "very fair and safe in
+good casks." All were in a cheerful mood, for the excitement of
+battle had begun to stir the hot blood in their veins.
+
+Late in the afternoon, the pinnaces (which had been carried on deck)
+were launched, and climbing aboard, the men of Merrie England set sail
+for the Spanish town. They lay under the shore, out of sight, until
+dark. Then they rowed with muffled oars to the shadows of the
+precipitous cliffs which here jutted into the rolling ocean, and
+quietly awaited the dawn.
+
+At three in the morning, while the silvery light of a half moon was
+just reddened with the first flush of dawn, the eager buccaneers
+landed upon the sandy beach. "Hark!" cried a youth, "We are already
+discovered."
+
+As he spoke, the noise of bells, drums, and shouting, came to the
+startled ears of the invaders.
+
+"Twelve men will remain behind to guard the pinnaces," cried Drake.
+"The rest must follow me and fight even to the last ditch. Forward!"
+
+Splitting into two bands, the Englishmen rushed through the narrow
+streets with a wild cheer ringing in the silent air. Drake's
+brother--with a certain John Oxenham and sixteen others--hurried
+around behind the King's treasure-house, and entered the eastern side
+of the market-place; while Drake, himself, marched up the main street
+with bugles blowing, drums rolling, and balls of lighted tow blazing
+from the end of long pikes carried by his stout retainers. The
+townsfolk were terrified with the din and blaze of fire. "An army is
+upon us," cried many. "We must flee for our lives."
+
+In spite of this, a goodly number rallied at the market-place, where
+there was a sharp fight. But nothing could withstand the onset of the
+men from the fog-swept island, and soon the Spaniards fled, leaving
+two behind who had been captured and held.
+
+"You must show us the Governor's house," cried Drake. "All the
+treasure is there."
+
+The two captives obeyed unwillingly, and great was the disappointment
+of the English when they found only bars of silver in the spacious
+mansion.
+
+"On! To the King's treasure-house!" again shouted the bold mariner.
+"There, at least, must be gold and jewels."
+
+In fact the English were furious with disappointment, for, as they
+reached the Governor's mansion (strongly built of lime and stone for
+the safe keeping of treasure) the eager pillagers rushed through the
+wide-open doorway. A candle stood lighted upon the top of the stairs.
+Before the threshold a horse stood champing his bit, as if recently
+saddled for the Governor, himself, while, by the flickering gleam of
+the taper, a huge glittering mass of silver bars was seen piled from
+floor to ceiling. That was all,--no caskets of gold or precious stones
+were to be seen.
+
+"Stand to your weapons, men!" cried Drake. "The town is full of
+people. Move carefully to the King's treasure-house which is near the
+waterside. There are more gold and jewels in that spot than all our
+pinnaces can carry."
+
+As the soldiers hurried where he led, a negro called Diego, rushed
+panting from the direction of the shore.
+
+"Marse Drake! Marse Drake!" he wailed. "De boats am surrounded by de
+Spanish. Dey will sholy be captured if you do not hurry back. Fo' de
+Lohd's sake, Massa, come down to de sho'."
+
+"My brother and John Oxenham will hasten to the shore," cried Drake.
+"Meanwhile, my Hearties, come batter down the doorway to this noble
+mansion. You are at the mouth of the greatest treasure-chest in the
+world."
+
+As the valiant captain spoke these words, he stepped forward to deal a
+blow, himself, at the stout door which shut him from the glittering
+riches. But suddenly he reeled and almost fell. Blood flowed in great
+quantities upon the sand, from a wound in his leg which he had
+received in the furious struggle within the market-place.
+
+"Come, Captain," cried one of his retainers, seizing him in his arms.
+"You must hasten to our pinnaces. What brooks this treasure to us when
+we lose you, for, if you live we can secure gold and silver enough at
+any time, but if you die we can find no more."
+
+"I fear me that I am grievously hurt," sadly spake the Captain. "Give
+me but a drink and then I think that I can reach our boats."
+
+A soldier stooped and bound his scarf about the wounded leg of the now
+weakened leader, and, bearing him aloft, the little band of
+adventurers turned toward the ocean side. They soon embarked, with
+many wounded besides the Captain, though none were slain save one
+trumpeter.
+
+Although the surgeons were kept busy in providing remedies and salves
+for the hurts of the soldiers, their main care was for the bold
+Francis Drake,--leader of this desperate expedition in quest of
+treasure.
+
+"If we lose you," cried a sailor, "we can scarce get home again. But
+while we enjoy your presence and have you in command of us, we can
+recover enough of wealth."
+
+"Before we left the harbor we took, with little trouble, a ship of
+wine for the greater comfort of our company," writes one of the stout
+soldiers in this brave affair. "And though they shot at us from the
+town we carried our prize to the Isle of Victuals. Here we cured our
+wounded men and refreshed ourselves in the goodly gardens which we
+found there abounding with great store of dainty roots and fruit.
+There were also great plenty of poultry and other fowls, no less
+strange and delicate."
+
+Although unsuccessful--as you see--the brave mariners were not
+daunted, and, after the wounded had recovered, a new expedition was
+determined upon, with the purpose of capturing one of the trains of
+mules which carried gold from Vera Cruz to Panama. Drake had been
+joined by numerous Maroons--negroes who had escaped from the Spaniards
+and had turned bandits--and these were quite willing and ready to aid
+him in the pursuit of treasure. But before the English marauders moved
+towards the interior, they attempted to attack Cartagena, the capital
+of the Spanish Main.
+
+Sailing into the harbor in front of this prosperous town, one evening,
+they found that the townsfolk had been well warned of their coming;
+they rang their bells and fired their cannon, while all of the
+soldiers ranged themselves before the ramparts.
+
+"Egad," cried Drake, with strange cheerfulness, in spite of his
+disappointment. "They're far too ready to receive us. We've got to
+withdraw."
+
+So they prowled around the mouth of the harbor, captured two ships,
+outward bound, and roared with laughter as they read a letter, written
+to warn all nearby citizens of "that terrible marauder, pirate, and
+butcher, Captain Drake."
+
+"The Spaniards carry no treasure by land during the rainy months,"
+said one of the natives. "You must wait for five full moons, if you
+wish to catch a mule train."
+
+"All right," said Captain Drake. "We'll fortify a place of
+refuge--explore--and await the propitious moment when we can hope for
+success."
+
+Thus they tarried patiently until they heard from the Maroons (who
+ranged the country up and down) that a large fleet had arrived from
+Spain at Nombre de Dios. This was glad news. Drake smiled as he heard
+it, and prepared immediately to make a land journey to Panama with
+forty-eight followers, carrying provisions, arms, and many pairs of
+shoes, because they were to cross several rivers of stone and gravel.
+
+The way lay between great palm trees and through cool and pleasant
+woods where the sturdy Englishmen were much encouraged when they heard
+that there stood a great tree, not far from where they were, from
+which one could see both the North Sea (Atlantic) from which they were
+journeying, and the South Sea (Pacific) towards which they were going.
+Finally--upon the fourth day--they came to a very steep hill, lying
+east and west like a ridge, and, at this point, Pedro--chief of the
+Maroons--took Drake by the hand, saying,
+
+"Follow me, O Captain, and I will show you two seas at once, for you
+are in the very centre of this country. Behold you stand in the heart
+of this fertile land."
+
+Looking before him, the lion-hearted adventurer saw a high tree in
+which had been cut many steps, so that one could climb to the top.
+Here was a convenient bower large enough for ten or twelve men to seat
+themselves. Then--without further ado--he and the chief Maroon
+clambered into the spreading branches and gazed across the nodding
+palm tops into the dim distance. It was a fair day, and, as the
+Maroons had felled certain trees so that the prospect might be more
+clear, upon the delighted vision of the Englishman burst the vista of
+the blue Atlantic and shimmering Pacific.
+
+"I pray Almighty God in all his goodness," cried out the adventurous
+Drake in loud tones of appreciation, "that I may have life and leave
+to sail but once an English ship in this mighty ocean of the West!"
+
+Then he called up the rest of the voyagers, and told them of his
+prayer and purpose.
+
+"I will follow you by God's grace!" cried John Oxenham, "unless you do
+not wish my company."
+
+Drake smiled good-humoredly, and, with a wave of his arm in the
+direction of the glistening waters, descended to the ground.
+
+"On, my hearties!" cried he, "and we'll soon bag a mule train with its
+panniers filled with gold."
+
+The men started forward, singing an old English ballad. As they walked
+through the high pampas grass, they began to get glimpses of Panama
+and the low-lying ships in the harbor. They kept silence and at length
+hid themselves in a grove near the high road from Panama to Nombre de
+Dios, while a negro was sent into the city as a spy.
+
+In the afternoon the faithful henchman returned.
+
+"A certain great man intends to go to Spain by the first ship," he
+said. "He is travelling towards Nombre de Dios this very night with
+his daughter and his family. He has fourteen mules, eight of which are
+laden with gold and one with jewelry. Two other trains of fifty mules
+each--burdened with food and little silver--will also come up this
+night."
+
+The English smiled, and, without more ado, marched to within two miles
+of Vera Cruz, where half of them lay down upon one side of the road,
+and half upon the other. They were screened by the tall grass; so
+well, indeed, that no eye could see them, and in an hour's time, to
+their eager ears came the sound of mule trains passing to and fro near
+Vera Cruz, where trade was lively because of the presence of the
+Spanish fleet. All was propitious for a successful attack.
+
+But misfortune seemed always to follow the bold and adventurous
+Drake. As mischance would have it, one of his men called Robert Pike,
+who had "drunk too much brandy without water," was lying close to the
+roadway by the side of a grinning Maroon, and, when a well-mounted
+cavalier from Vera Cruz rode by--with his page running at his
+stirrup--he rose up to peer at him, even though his companion pulled
+him down in the endeavor to hide his burly form.
+
+"Sacre Nom de Dieu," cried the traveller. "It is a white man! An
+Englishman!" and, putting spurs to his horse, he rode away at a
+furious gallop in order to warn others of the highwayman's position.
+
+The ground was hard and the night was still. As Captain Drake heard
+the gentleman's trot change into a gallop, he uttered a round British
+oath.
+
+"Discovered," he muttered, "but by whose fault I know not. We'll await
+the other trains and mayhap we'll have some booty yet."
+
+The gentleman, in fact, warned the Treasurer, who, fearing that
+Captain Drake had wandered to this hidden thicket, turned his train of
+mules aside and let the others--who were behind him--pass on. Thus, by
+recklessness of one of the company, a rich booty was lost, but--as an
+Englishman has well said, "We thought that God would not let it be
+taken, for likely it was well gotten by that Treasurer."
+
+There was no use repining, for soon a tinkling of bells and tread of
+hoofs came to the eager ears of the adventurers, and, through the long
+pampas grass ambled the other two mule trains--their drivers snapping
+the whips with little thought of the lurking danger. In a moment they
+were between the English and hidden Maroons, who--with a wild
+cheer--dashed upon them, surrounded them, and easily held them in
+their power. Two horse loads of silver was the prize for all this
+trouble and hard travel.
+
+"I never grieve over things past," cried Drake. "We must now march
+home by the shortest route. It is certainly provoking that we lost the
+mule train of gold, particularly as we were betrayed by one of our own
+men. Come, soldiers, turn about and retreat to our good ships."
+
+Half satisfied but cheerful, the soldiers and Maroons turned towards
+the coast, and, as they neared Vera Cruz, the infantrymen of the town
+swarmed outside to attack the hated men of Merrie England, with cries
+of, "Surrender! Surrender!"
+
+Drake looked at them scornfully, replying,
+
+"An Englishman never surrenders!"
+
+At this a volley rang out and one of the intrepid adventurers was "so
+powdered with hail-shot that he could not recover his life, although
+he continued all that day with Drake's men." But stout Francis blew
+his whistle--the signal for attack--and, with a wild cry, the Maroons
+and English rushed for the black-haired and sallow-skinned defenders
+of the town. "Yo Peho! Yo Peho!" wailed the half-crazed natives as
+they leaped high in the air, and encouraged by the presence of the
+English, they broke through the thickets at the town's end and forced
+the enemy to fly, while the now terrified Spanish scurried pell mell
+down the coast. Several of Drake's followers were wounded, and one
+Maroon was run through with a pike, but his courage was so great that
+he revenged his own death ere he died, by slaying a Spaniard who
+opposed him.
+
+At sunrise the land pirates continued their journey, carrying some
+plunder from Vera Cruz. Some of the men fainted with weakness, but two
+Maroons would carry them along until they could again walk, and
+thus--struggling, cursing and singing--the party of weary and
+disappointed marauders neared the place where they had left their
+ship. A messenger was sent forward with a golden toothpick to those
+left behind upon the vessel and a request that the ship be brought
+into the narrow channel of a certain river. It was done, and when at
+last the weary plunderers reached the shore, they gave a mighty cheer
+as they saw the white, bellying sails of their staunch, English
+vessel. Their journey for pelf and jewels had been a failure.
+
+This did not discourage the lion-hearted Drake, who declared, with a
+smile, "We'll yet catch a mule train, boys, and one in which the
+panniers are filled with sufficient gold to sink our good ship. Keep
+your hearts bright and I'll gain you enough of treasure to house you
+in peace and comfort in your old age. Remember--'Fortune favors the
+brave!'" He had spoken with truth.
+
+Not long afterwards a French captain appeared, whose men were only too
+eager for a little journey ashore after golden mule trains and battle.
+So a party was made up of twenty Frenchmen, fifteen Englishmen, and
+some Maroons, who sailed with a frigate and two pinnaces, towards a
+river called Rio Francisco--to the west of Nombre de Dios. They
+landed, struck inland, and were soon near the high road from Panama to
+Nombre de Dios, where mule trains passed daily--some with food and
+merchandise--a few with golden ingots and bars of silver.
+
+In silence they marched along and spent the night about a mile from
+the road, where they could plainly hear the carpenters working on
+their ships--which they did at night because of the fierce, torrid sun
+during the day. Next morning--the first of April, but not an April
+Fool's day by any means--they heard such a number of bells that the
+Maroons began to chuckle and say, "You will have much gold. Yo Peho!
+Yo Peho! This time we will all be rich!"
+
+Suddenly three mule trains came to view, one of fifty long-eared
+beasts of burden; two of seventy each, with every animal carrying
+three hundred pounds weight of silver, amounting to nearly thirty
+tons. The sight seemed almost too good to be true. With a wild shout
+the ambuscaders leaped from their hiding places to rush frantically
+upon the startled drivers. In a few moments the train was in
+possession of Drake and his French and half-negro associates, who
+chuckled and grunted like peccaries.
+
+The leading mules were taken by the heads and all the rest lay down,
+as they always do when stopped. The fifteen soldiers who guarded each
+train were routed, but not before they had wounded the French captain
+most severely and had slain one of the Maroons. Silver bars and gold
+ingots were there aplenty. They were seized and carried off, while,
+what was not transported, was buried in the earthen burrows made by
+the great land crabs under fallen trees, and in the sand and gravel of
+a shallow river.
+
+"And now for home," cried a valorous sea farer, after a party had
+returned with a portion of the buried treasure, which was divided
+equally between the French and the English. Much of that left in the
+sand crab holes had been discovered by the Spaniards--but not all.
+Thirteen bars of silver and a few quoits of gold had rewarded the
+search of the expectant voyageurs.
+
+"Yes," cried all. "Sails aloft for Merrie England!" So, spreading
+canvas, the bold adventurers were soon headed for the foggy and misty
+isle from which they had come. On Sunday, August ninth, 1573--just
+about sermon time--they dropped anchor in the peaceful harbor of
+Plymouth.
+
+"And the news of the Captain's return brought unto his people, did so
+speedily pass over all the church, and fill the minds of the
+congregation with delight and desire to see him, that very few, or
+none, remained with the preacher. All hastened to see the evidence of
+God's love and blessing towards the gracious Queen and country, by the
+fruit of the gallant mariner's labor and success."
+
+"To God alone," spake an humble citizen of Plymouth, "be the Glory."
+
+[Illustration: DRAKE'S GREATEST VICTORY ON THE SPANISH MAIN.
+    (The surrender of Don Anton to Sir Francis Drake, March 1, 1579.)]
+
+And all echoed these pious sentiments, in spite of the fact that
+Drake was a robber, a pirate, and a buccaneer. But was he not their
+own countryman?
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The scene now changes. It is a gray day at Plymouth and anxious faces
+peer into the street from the windows of the low, tiled houses. A
+crowd has collected upon the jutting cliffs and all gaze with eager
+eyes towards the ocean. Men speak in hushed and subdued voices, for
+there is trouble in the air.
+
+Among the knots of keen-eyed English there is one small party which
+seems to be as joyous as a lot of school-boys. Five men are playing at
+bowls, and one of them is stout, and well knit, and swarthy visaged
+with long exposure to the elements. He is laughing uproariously, when
+a lean fellow comes running from the very edge of those beetling
+cliffs which jut far out into the gray, green Atlantic.
+
+"Hark'ee, Captain Drake!" he cries. "Ships are in the offing, and many
+of them too! It must be the fleet of Philip of Spain come to ravage
+our beauteous country!"
+
+"Ah, indeed," answers the staunch-figured captain, without looking up.
+"Then let me have one last shot, I pray thee, before I go to meet
+them."
+
+And so saying, he calmly tosses another ball upon the greensward,
+knocks aside the wooden pins, then smiling, turns and strides towards
+the waterside.
+
+Thus Drake--the lion-hearted--goes out to battle with the great Armada
+of Philip of Spain, with a smile upon his lips, and full confidence in
+his ability to defeat the Spaniards at home as well as on the Spanish
+Main. Let us see how he fared?
+
+Smarting with keen anger at Drake and his successful attacks upon his
+western possessions, Philip--the powerful monarch of Spain--determined
+to gather a great fleet together and to invade England with a mighty
+army.
+
+"That rascally pirate has beaten me at Cadiz, at Cartagena, and at
+Lisbon," the irate king had roared, with no show of composure. "Now I
+will sail against him and crush this buccaneer, so that he and his
+kind can never rise again."
+
+A mighty fleet of heavy ships--the Armada--was not ready to sail until
+July, 1588, and the months before this had been well spent by the
+English in preparation for defense, for they knew of the full
+intention of their southern enemy. Shipwrights worked day and night.
+The clamoring dockyards hummed with excitement, while Good Queen Bess
+and her Ministers of State wrote defiant letters to the missives from
+the Spanish crown. The cold blood of the English--always quite
+lukewarm in their misty, moisty isle--had begun to boil with vigor.
+The Britons would fight valiantly.
+
+As the lumbering galleons neared the English coast, a heavy mist which
+hid them, blew away, and the men of England saw the glimmering water
+fairly black with the wooden vultures of old Spain. The Spaniards had
+come ready to fight in the way in which they had won many a brilliant
+victory; with a horde of towering hulks, of double-deckers and
+store-ships manned by slaves and yellow-skinned retainers, who
+despised big guns and loved a close encounter with hand thrusts and
+push of pike. Like a huge, wooden octopus this arrogant fleet of
+Arragon moved its tentacles around the saucy, new-made pinnaces of the
+tight little isle.
+
+"The boats of the English were very nimble and of good steerage,"
+writes a Spaniard, "so that the English did with them as they desired.
+And our ships being very heavy compared with the lightness of those of
+the enemy, it was impossible to come to hand-stroke with them."
+
+This tells the whole story. With a light wind astern--the war ships of
+the English bore down easily upon the heavy-bottomed Spanish galleons
+and fired their guns at the hulls of the enemy.
+
+"Don't waste your balls upon the rigging," cried Drake through a
+trumpet. "Sight low and sink 'em if you can. But keep away from the
+grappling hooks so's not to let 'em get hold of you. If they once
+do--you're lost!"
+
+Now was the sound of splitting of boards, as the solid shot pumped
+great holes in the sides of the high rocking galleons. Dense clouds of
+vapor hung over the struggling combatants--partly from a sea fog which
+the July sun had not thoroughly burned away, and partly from the
+spitting mouths of the cannon. Fire burst from the decks, the roar of
+the guns was intermingled with the shrill wails of the slaves, the
+guttural cries of the seamen, the screams of the wounded and the
+derisive howls of those maddened by battle. The decks were crimson
+with blood; sails split and tore as the chain-shot hummed through the
+rigging, and the sharp twang of the arquebusques was mingled with the
+crash of long-barrelled muskets.
+
+No men can fight like those who are defending their own homes. At
+Gettysburg, the Army of the Potomac--twice beaten in an attack upon
+the South in the enemy's country--struggled as it had never done
+before,--and won. It had nowhere battled as when the foe was pushing
+it back upon its own soil and cities.
+
+So here--no fighters ever bled as did the English when the greedy
+hands of Spain were clutching at their shores. The light ships hung
+near the Spaniards at a distance and did not board until spars were
+down and the great rakish hulls were part helpless. Then--with a wild
+cheer--the little galleons--often two at a time--would grapple with
+the enemy and board--cutlasses swinging, pistols spitting, and
+hand-spikes hewing a way through the struggling, yellow-faced ruffians
+of Philip of Arragon.
+
+While the awful battle raged, fire ships were prepared on shore and
+sent down upon the Spanish fleet, burning fiercely and painting the
+skyline with red. Some of the large vessels had anchored, and, as
+these terrors approached, they slipped their cables in order to
+escape. Confusion beset the ranks of the boastful foe and cheered on
+the British bull-dogs to renewed exertions.
+
+At six in the evening a mighty cry welled from the British boats.
+"They fly! They fly!" sounded above the ruck and roar of battle.
+
+Yes--it was the truth. Beaten and dismayed, the Spanish fleet bore
+away to the North, while the English--in spite of the fact that their
+powder was wet, and nearly all spent--"gave them chase as if they
+lacked nothing, until they had cleared their own coast and some part
+of Scotland of them." The Armada--split, part helpless--drifted away
+from Plymouth, and wild cheers of joy came from the deck of the vessel
+which carried bold Sir Francis Drake. The great battle had been won.
+
+So crippled were many of the Spanish hulks that they were wrecked in
+stormy weather, off the coast of Scotland and Ireland. Not half of
+those who put to sea ever reached Spain again. Many sailors were
+drowned, or perished miserably by the hands of the natives of the
+coast, and some who escaped were put to death by the Queen's orders.
+Fever and sickness broke out in the English ships and the followers of
+bold Drake died by hundreds, "sickening one day and perishing the
+next."
+
+The English vessels, themselves, were in a bad way--they had to be
+disinfected and the men put ashore--where the report of the many
+wrecks and the massacre of Spanish soldiers, eased the anxiety of the
+once terrified inhabitants of the tight little isle, and made it
+certain that the Armada would never return. Drake and his bold seamen
+had saved the people of Merrie England. Again hats off to this pirate
+of the Spanish Main!
+
+Safely settled in Buckland Abbey, knighted, honored, respected--the
+hero of the defense of England--one would think that Drake would have
+remained peacefully at home to die "with his boots on." But not so.
+The spirit of adventure called to him with irresistible force, and
+again he set out for the Spanish Main. He had sailed around the world
+before his grapple with the Armada; he had harassed the Spaniard in an
+expedition to Lisbon; he was the idol of the English. He had done
+enough--you say. Yes, he had done enough--but--like all men who love
+the game of life he wished to have just one more expedition in search
+of gold and adventure, for--by nature he was a gambler, and he was
+throwing the dice with Fate.
+
+So a goodly crew sailed with him again, hoping for another raid upon
+mule trains and cities of treasure. But alas! There was to be a
+different story from the others. All the towns and hamlets of the
+Spanish Main had been warned to "be careful and look well to
+themselves, for that Drake and Hawkins were making ready in England to
+come upon them." And when the English arrived they found stout defense
+and valiant men, nor was a sail seen "worth giving chase unto."
+Hawkins died, many grew ill of fever, and finally Drake, himself,
+succumbed to the malarial atmosphere of Panama. He was to remain where
+gold and adventure had first lured him.
+
+On January the twenty-eighth, 1596, the great captain yielded up his
+spirit "like a Christian, quietly in his cabin." And a league from the
+shore of Porto Rico, the mighty rover of the seas was placed in a
+weighted hammock and tossed into the sobbing ocean. The spume frothed
+above the eddying current, sucked downward by the emaciated form of
+the famous mariner, and a solitary gull shrieked cruelly above the
+bubbles, below which--upon beads of coral and clean sand--rested the
+body of Sir Francis Drake, rover, rogue, and rattling sea ranger. It
+was his last journey.
+
+
+    "Weep for this soul, who, in fathoms of azure,
+    Lies where the wild tarpon breaks through the foam,
+    Where the sea otter mews to its brood in the ripples,
+    As the pelican wings near the palm-forest gloom.
+    Ghosts of the buccaneers flit through the branches,
+    Dusky and dim in the shadows of eve,
+    While shrill screams the parrot,--the lord of Potanches,
+    'Drake, Captain Drake, you've had your last leave.'"
+
+
+
+
+SEA IRONY
+
+
+    One day I saw a ship upon the sands
+    Careened upon beam ends, her tilted deck
+    Swept clear of rubbish of her long-past wreck;
+    Her colors struck, but not by human hands;
+    Her masts the driftwood of what distant strands!
+    Her frowning ports, where, at the Admiral's beck,
+    Grim-visaged cannon held the foe in check,
+    Gaped for the frolic of the minnow bands.
+    The seaweed banners in her fo'ks'le waved,
+    A turtle basked upon her capstan head;
+    Her cabin's pomp the clownish sculpin braved,
+    And, on her prow, where the lost figure-head
+    Once turned the brine, a name forgot was graved,
+    It was "The Irresistible" I read.
+
+                    --HEATON.
+
+
+
+
+SIR WALTER RALEIGH
+
+PERSECUTOR OF THE SPANIARDS
+
+(1552-1618)
+
+
+    "All great men have lived by hope."--JAMES FREEMAN
+    CLARKE.
+
+
+[Illustration: YOUNG RALEIGH AND A COMPANION LISTENING TO TALES OF
+THE SPANISH MAIN.]
+
+
+SIR WALTER RALEIGH
+
+PERSECUTOR OF THE SPANIARDS
+
+(1552-1618)
+
+    "When the sobbing sea is squally,
+    Then,--look out for Walter Raleigh!
+    He's the fellow whom Queen Bess is said to love.
+    He's a reckless, handsome sailor,
+    With a 'Vandyke' like a tailor,
+    He can coo fond words of loving like a dove.
+    Faith! I like this gallant rover,
+    Who has ploughed the wild seas over,
+    Who has passed the grim and wild equator's ring.
+    And I cheer, whene'er I view him,
+    For--my Boy--off Spain I knew him
+    When he trimmed the Spanish cruisers, like a King."
+
+                    --_Chant of the Plymouth Dock-Hand._
+
+
+Boys! You have all heard about the _Square Deal_. Well--Here is the
+story of a man who didn't get one.
+
+Walter Raleigh was a brave man; he was an able seafarer; his younger
+manhood was spent in the midst of the most brilliant Royal Court which
+England has known. He proved his courage and military prowess in more
+than one bitterly contested battle-field and naval conflict. His love
+of his own land and his hatred of his enemies was ardent.
+
+He was also a fellow of wit, and, as an author, took rank with the
+great literary lights of the Elizabethan Age. He was an adventurer,
+and, in middle life, as well as in old age, braved the great deep and
+perils of savage lands in the magnificent attempt to make discoveries
+and to settle English colonies in the New World. Chivalrous in actions
+and feeling; of handsome person; graceful manners and courtly address;
+it is no wonder that he had a host of enemies: those fellows who
+couldn't do anything worth while themselves, and wanted to "pull the
+other fellow down." There are plenty of them around, to-day, doing the
+same thing in the same, old way.
+
+As an Englishman he loved England to such an extent, that--upon the
+return from one of his numerous voyages--he dropped upon one knee and
+kissed the sand.
+
+"My men," said he to his followers, "I love this land as nothing else
+on earth!"
+
+The hostility of his rivals subjected him to harsh ill treatment. It
+did not dampen his love for England.
+
+The silly caprices of Queen Elizabeth, who--like most women--was
+swayed, not by her reason, but by her sentiments, made him suffer
+imprisonment. Yet, it did not dampen his love for England.
+
+The terrible and bitter dislike of King James--who succeeded the
+Virgin Queen--finally led to his trial for treason; his execution; and
+his death.
+
+Yet, it did not dampen his love for England.
+
+If England can produce men of such a mold, nowadays, she will continue
+to be a mighty world power.
+
+Do you think that _you_ could be as patriotic as Sir Walter Raleigh?
+Particularly if _you_ were treated as _he_ was treated? Think it over!
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+One day, the ancient palace of Greenwich, which stood on the banks of
+the Thames--a few miles below London--presented a lively and brilliant
+scene. Courtiers, arrayed in gorgeous colors and glittering ornaments,
+walked about, chattering gaily,--like a flock of sparrows. Fine, young
+cavaliers were there, attired in rich velvets, sparkling with gems,
+armed with gold-hilted swords. Grave statesmen wandered around,--with
+beards as white as their ruffles. Stately dames, with heavy and gaily
+trimmed trains, peered at the beautiful belles, and said:
+
+"My, isn't she a fright!" or
+
+"Goodness, what _dreadful_ manners the Duchess so-and-so has!"
+
+Just as they do to-day. Times do not change.
+
+Trumpets blared a fan-fa-rade and lines of soldiers gave forth
+inspiriting sounds, with many musical instruments. There was a stir
+and flutter in the crowd; and some one called out:
+
+"She's coming! Hats off to the Queen!"
+
+So all the men took off their hats,--for they were courtiers, and it
+was their business to do so, whenever Her Royal Highness came around.
+Many of them didn't like to do it but if they hadn't done so, some spy
+would have cried out "Treason!" And they would have been hustled off
+to the Tower. You _just bet_ they took off their hats!
+
+Descending the broad flight of steps, with proud and majestic mien,
+the tall and slender figure of Elizabeth--the maiden Queen of
+England--was seen approaching.
+
+She was then in the mature ripeness of middle age, but she still
+preserved not a few remnants of the beauty of her youth. Her form was
+straight and well proportioned. Her large, blue eyes were yet bright
+and expressive; her complexion was still wonderfully fair and smooth.
+Her well arranged hair was luxuriant and was of a light red. A large,
+fan-like collar of richest lace rose from her slender neck, above her
+head behind; and her tresses were combed high from her forehead.
+Jewels blazed from her dress. Her attire was far more splendid than
+that of any of the ladies of her court.
+
+As it happened, a heavy shower had just passed over, and little
+puddles of water stood all around upon the gravelled paths. Bursting
+through the fast-vanishing clouds, the sun cast its rays upon the
+trees still dripping with glittering drops; and upon the smiling
+Queen, who--surrounded by a gay group of courtiers--set forth upon a
+promenade through the park. She chatted affably with all. They tried
+to make themselves as agreeable as possible, for he who was most
+agreeable received the best plums from the Royal Tree. Politics
+haven't changed any since that day.
+
+The Queen walked on, playing with a beautiful, white greyhound, and,
+pretty soon she came to a muddy spot in the path.
+
+"Zounds!" said she (or it may have been something stronger, for
+historians say that she could "swear valiantly"). "Zounds! Now I will
+spoil my pretty shoes!"
+
+"And also your pretty feet," interjected a courtier. He received a
+smile for this compliment and the Queen mentally made a note of
+it,--for future use in the distribution of Court Favors.
+
+She hesitated, looked around aimlessly, and stood still.
+
+At this instant a young noble--six feet tall and elegantly
+attired--stepped forward; and, throwing aside his richly embroidered
+cloak, spread it over the muddy pool.
+
+"Prithee, pass onward!" said he, bowing low.
+
+Elizabeth was delighted.
+
+"Good Walter Raleigh," said she, smiling. "You are truly a gallant
+knight!" And she tripped gaily across the embroidered mantlet. "I will
+reward you right well for this!"
+
+But the courtiers, the Ladies, and the Statesmen glanced with
+undisguised envy at the young gallant who had so readily pleased their
+Mistress; and they scowled at him as Elizabeth kept him at her side
+during the rest of her promenade. "The Beggar's outdone us all!" said
+one. "Down with him!"
+
+But they could not down Sir Walter just then. After awhile they had
+"their innings."
+
+Rough, vain, whimsical Queen Bess was fond of handsome, and especially
+of witty and eloquent young men. She grew more attached to Sir Walter
+Raleigh every day. He rapidly rose in power and influence, and, as a
+poet, became well known. His verses were read in the luxurious halls
+of the palace with exclamations of delight, while the tales of his
+military exploits were eagerly repeated from mouth to mouth; for
+Raleigh had fought valiantly in France and had helped to suppress an
+insurrection in Ireland.
+
+And still the jealous courtiers murmured among themselves.
+
+Raleigh was appointed "Warden of the Stanneries," or mines, in
+Cornwall and Devonshire, from which he derived, each year, a large
+income. He was made Captain of the Queen's Guard. He was created Lord
+Lieutenant of Cornwall and Vice-Admiral of Devon. He received vast
+estates in Ireland and many privileges and licenses, so that he was
+fast becoming a rich man. He was splendid and extravagant in his
+dress. He grew arrogant. He had, in fact, "too much Ego in his
+Cosmos."
+
+So, the jealous courtiers continued to murmur among themselves.
+
+Elizabeth was fickle as well as sentimental. Her fancy passed lightly
+from one gallant to another. For some time Leicester (who had once
+been her sole favorite, and who desired to regain his position) had
+been growing jealous of Raleigh's ascendency; and he had been
+delighted to see that Queen Bess had taken a violent fancy to the
+impetuous Earl of Essex. A quarrel took place between Raleigh and the
+Ruler of England. He was affronted before the whole court and retired
+to his chambers, overwhelmed with grief.
+
+[Illustration: SIR WALTER RALEIGH.]
+
+And all the jealous courtiers punched each other beneath the ribs,
+and laughed "Ha! Ha! Ha! What did we tell you?"
+
+It took the "Ego" out of Raleigh's "Cosmos."
+
+But the gallant courtier had a half-brother--Sir Humphrey Gilbert--who
+had just returned from a voyage around the world in the good ship
+_Golden Hind_.
+
+"Let's fit out a small fleet," said he to Raleigh, "and establish an
+English colony in Newfoundland."
+
+"I'm with you," cried Sir Walter. "We'll found another England in far
+distant America! On with it!"
+
+Thus, an expedition of five ships sailed from Plymouth, in the early
+summer of 1583. Sir Humphrey boarded the _Squirrel_, and bade his
+kinsman an affectionate adieu.
+
+"You must remain behind," said he, "and regain our position at court!"
+
+"That I will endeavor to do," answered Raleigh. "Good luck and God
+speed."
+
+The expedition was a failure from the start. Scarcely had the shallops
+gone to sea, than one of them--the _Raleigh_--deserted its companions
+and put back. The rest reached Newfoundland, but the men were lawless
+and insubordinate.
+
+"This is the Deuce of a cold place for a colony," they said. "Home to
+Merrie England!"
+
+Gilbert was forced to yield to their angry demands, and re-embarked.
+
+"Don't sail in that rattle-trap of a _Squirrel_," said his officers to
+him. "She'll founder!"
+
+But Sir Humphrey had that obstinacy which characterized General
+Braddock.
+
+"No: I will not forsake the little company, going homeward," said he.
+"I'll stick to my ship."
+
+He stuck--and--when they hailed him one stormy night, he said:
+
+"Be of good cheer, my friends: we are as near to Heaven by sea as by
+land!"
+
+That night the _Squirrel_ was sailing a little in advance of the other
+ships, and, as those on board the _Golden Hind_ watched the frail
+barque, they saw her lurch, heave, and then sink from view. Thus the
+soul of brave Raleigh's kinsman found a watery grave. He had paid for
+his obstinacy with his life.
+
+Raleigh was overwhelmed with grief when he learned of the death of his
+heroic half-brother.
+
+"I'll yet found my Colony," said he. "And I'll go myself."
+
+This pleased the jealous courtiers more than ever, for they would now
+have him out of the way for all time.
+
+With his ample wealth, the indefatigable adventurer found no
+difficulty in fitting out an expedition, and, in the year after the
+death of Sir Humphrey Gilbert, he sent forth two vessels to explore
+the coast of the Carolinas.
+
+"I'm going to stay at home and face my enemies!" said the gay blade.
+"Again good luck and God Speed!"
+
+They had a fortunate voyage, and, when they returned, the Captains
+told of the beautiful harbors, fine rivers, magnificent forests and
+abundance of game. The Queen was delighted, and at once named the
+fair country for herself, with characteristic egotism. That men might
+know that this fruitful land was explored in the time of the Virgin
+Queen, it was called "Virginia." Raleigh was wild with delight.
+
+And the jealous courtiers looked dejected and sad.
+
+A fleet of seven vessels--with one hundred colonists--was now sent to
+Virginia, under the command of one Grenville, who was eager to become
+suddenly rich: a disease as common now as in those venturous days. No
+sooner had the people landed, than they began to treat the savages
+with such harshness and rapacity--that they had to gain their own
+food, as the natives would have nothing to do with them. Dissensions
+tore the little community into shreds. So they were only too glad to
+return with the gallant old sea-dog, Sir Francis Drake, when he
+happened that way, with a large amount of booty which he had just
+taken from the Spaniards in the southern seas.
+
+Another expedition was sent over by Raleigh; and yet another. They
+were failures. But there was one, single thing which was not a
+failure. This was the discovery of a herb called "Yppowoc," or
+tobacco, the leaves of which--when dried--were smoked by the natives
+in long pipes.
+
+Curious Sir Walter had a jeweller in London make him a silver pipe,
+after the fashion of those used by the native Virginians. In this he
+began to smoke the tobacco, and soon grew to like it very much; so
+much, indeed, that he was scarcely ever without this comforter, when
+enjoying the quiet of his home.
+
+One day he was sitting cosily by his fire with his Long Nine in his
+mouth, and the smoke was curling gracefully over his head. Just as he
+was puffing out a particularly thick cloud, one of his servants
+happened to enter the room with a tankard of ale, for the luncheon
+table.
+
+"Ye Gods!" cried he. "My Master's on fire!"
+
+_Swash!!_
+
+Over Sir Walter's head went the ale, and the frightened lackey dashed
+down the steps.
+
+"H-e-l-p! H-e-l-p!" cried he. "My Master is burning up! H-e-l-p!"
+
+But Sir Walter did not burn up this time. Instead he near split his
+gallant sides with laughing.
+
+Now, Boys, don't smile! 'Tis said that good old Queen Bess tried,
+herself, to smoke a Long Nine. But--hush--"she became so dizzy and ill
+from the effects that she never ventured upon the experiment again!"
+(Keep this quiet! Very quiet! Will you!)
+
+On one occasion she was watching Sir Walter blowing circles of smoke
+over his head, and said to him--
+
+"Zounds! (or something stronger) Sir Walter! You are a witty man; but
+I will wager that you cannot tell me the weight of the smoke which
+comes from your pipe!"
+
+"I can, indeed," was the confident reply of the gallant courtier.
+"Watch me closely!"
+
+At once he took as much tobacco as would fill his pipe and exactly
+weighed it. Having then smoked it up, he--in like manner--weighed the
+ashes.
+
+"Now, Your Majesty," said he, smiling. "The difference between these
+two weights is the weight of the smoke."
+
+And again Queen Bess remarked "Zounds!" (or Eftsoons!). At any rate,
+she paid the wager, for--with all her frailties--she was a Good Loser.
+
+Raleigh, in fact, shortly became reinstated in Royal favor, and, when
+he aided Drake and Hawkins--soon afterwards--in dispersing the
+Invincible Armada, he was again in the good graces of his sovereign.
+
+There was, however, a pretty, young Maid-of-Honor at court, called
+Elizabeth Throgmorton, and no sooner had the bright eyes of Sir Walter
+fallen upon her, than he fell in love. In paying court to this amiable
+lady he was compelled to use great caution and secrecy, for jealous
+Queen Bess watched him narrowly, and with suspicion. In spite of her
+preference for Essex, Elizabeth was quite unwilling that Raleigh--her
+less favored lover--should transfer his affections to another. So, in
+making love to Elizabeth Throgmorton, the gay courtier was compelled
+to use the utmost care.
+
+But Murder (or Love) will out!
+
+It chanced one day, that the Queen discovered what was going on
+between her Maid-of-Honor and the cavalier. Her rage knew no bounds.
+She berated Raleigh before her ladies, and forbade him to come to
+court. She fiercely commanded the Maid-of-Honor to remain a prisoner
+in her room, and, on no account to see Raleigh again. So the venturous
+Knight turned his attention once more to wild roving upon the sea.
+
+Now the jealous courtiers fairly chuckled with glee. "Ha! Ha! Ha!"
+laughed they. "Ho! Ho! Ho! He! He! He!"
+
+But Sir Walter engaged very actively in fitting out some squadrons to
+attack the Spanish ships.
+
+"Egad! I hate a Spaniard!" he said. "They are my country's special
+enemies and I intend to do them all the harm that I can!"
+
+The Queen was glad enough to separate him from his lady love and not
+only consented to his project, but promised to aid him in it. Ere long
+fifteen vessels were anchored in the Thames--all ready to sail--but,
+before he set out, the gallant commander made up his mind that he
+would marry his beloved Maid-of-Honor. It was not difficult to find a
+clergyman who would splice him tighter than he ever spliced a rope
+aboard ship. The deed was done. He set sail. All was going
+propitiously.
+
+"I'll attack the Spanish ships in the harbor of Seville," said
+Raleigh. "Then--off to the Spanish Main and sack the town of Panama."
+He laughed,--but what was that?
+
+Rapidly approaching from the coast of England came a swift pinnace. It
+gained upon the squadron in spite of the fact that all sail was
+hoisted, and, at last came near enough to give Raleigh a signal to
+"Heave to." In a few moments her commander climbed aboard.
+
+"The Queen has changed her mind about your expedition," said he. "She
+has sent me--Sir Martin Frobisher--to tell you to come home."
+
+Raleigh said things which made the air as blue as the sea, but he put
+back--for he could not disobey the Royal command. He was soon at
+court.
+
+The Queen was furious with anger.
+
+"You have disobeyed my commands," said she. "I find you have secretly
+married my Maid-of-Honor. To the Tower with you! To the dungeons of
+the Tower!"
+
+And all the jealous courtiers were so happy that they danced a can-can
+in the ante chamber.
+
+What do you think of this? Thrown into prison because he loved a Maid
+and married her! Nowadays "all the World loves a Lover." In those
+times all the world _might_ have "loved a Lover" except Queen
+Bess,--and a number of courtiers hanging around within easy call:
+_They_ kicked a Lover. And then they all got together and said:
+
+"Fine! Fine! Now we've got him where he ought to be. Ha! Ha! Ha! Ho!
+Ho! Ho!"
+
+But women relent; that is one of their chief characteristics. Queen
+Bess softened, grew lukewarm, finally became molten.
+
+"Sir Walter Raleigh can go free," said she.
+
+The gallant courtier returned to his country estate, where--with his
+wife and children he enjoyed the luxuries and comforts of country
+life. And the jealous courtiers began to look strangely sober.
+
+Still the sea called. The sea sang its old song, and, fired with the
+spirit of adventure, Sir Walter decided upon another expedition: this
+time to the coast of Guiana, in South America, where, it was said,
+"billets of gold lay about in heaps, as if they were logs of wood
+marked out to burn." With a large fleet at his command he soon started
+upon this expedition for plunder and for fame. This time no Sir Martin
+Frobisher sailed after him to bring him back to a dungeon in the Tower
+and he was able to reach his destination.
+
+The expedition was a howling success. Whenever and wherever Sir Walter
+could inflict injury on the Spaniards, whom he so bitterly detested,
+he did so with eagerness. A Spanish ship was soon seen, chased,
+and--after a brief, hot fight--surrendered and was boarded.
+
+"Egad!" cried Raleigh. "Here's luck, for the cargo's of fire arms.
+I'll stow them away in my own vessel and let the captive go!"
+
+Proceeding on his voyage, he not long afterwards encountered and
+captured another prize; a Flemish ship sailing homeward with a cargo
+of fine wine. Twenty hogsheads were transferred to the hold of
+Raleigh's ship and the captured craft was allowed to sail on,--empty.
+
+Things continued to go well. The Island of Trinidad (off Venezuela)
+was reached at last. The natives were friendly and told of vast
+deposits of gold far up the river Orinoco. "But would Raleigh not
+please besiege the Spanish town of St. Joseph?" said they, "and rescue
+some of their chiefs whom the Spaniards held prisoners--in chains."
+
+"I always strike a Spaniard when I can," said Raleigh. "On, men, we'll
+sack this proud city!"
+
+St. Joseph speedily fell into his hands. The chiefs were released.
+They were so gratified, that they paddled him far up the river, where
+they found glittering gold, which they tore out of rocks with their
+daggers. The Englishmen were delighted, and, collecting a mass of
+nuggets to show to those at home, they put back to the ships, set
+sail, and were soon in England again.
+
+The people were astonished at this exploit, but the jealous courtiers
+did all they could to deprive Raleigh of the renown which was justly
+his due.
+
+"What this fellow has told is a lie," whispered they into the ears of
+good Queen Bess. "There is no such place as Guiana. Raleigh has been
+down upon the coast of Spain and hidden himself. He has not crossed
+the Atlantic at all."
+
+Which proves that no one can ever do anything adventurous without
+stirring up the hammers of the Envious: the Little Men. Is it not so
+to-day? Look around! You can hear the carping critic at any time that
+you may wish! _Do_ something _big_, sometime. Then put your ear to the
+ground and listen!
+
+But the sea called for the fifth time. A vast English fleet was hurled
+against the Spanish at Cadiz,--a great English fleet, accompanied by
+an army. England was bound to get even with the Spaniards for daring
+to launch the supposedly invincible Armada against them--and Sir
+Walter eagerly sailed for the coast of Spain.
+
+The harbor of Cadiz was seen to be fairly jammed full of stately
+galleons and men-of-war. Arranged in compact rows, close to shore,
+just below the towering and frowning castle of Cadiz; they were
+protected, on either side, by fortresses, whence heavy guns peeped
+forth to defend them. There were nearly sixty large vessels in all,
+four of which were galleons, and twenty of which were galleys:
+well-manned and well-armed with small cannon. There were many more
+ships than in the attacking fleet.
+
+It was the evening of June the 20th, 1596. The British vessels rapidly
+sailed into the harbor, Raleigh leading, in the flagship, the _Water
+Sprite_; behind him the _Mary Rose_, commanded by his cousin, Sir
+George Carew; and the _Rainbow_ under Sir Francis Vere. All were eager
+for the fray, and it was not long before their approach was observed
+by the Spanish fleet. Instantly a huge galleon, the _Saint
+Philip_--the largest in the Spanish Navy--swung out of her position,
+followed by the _Saint Andrew_, second only to her in size.
+
+"They're coming to meet me!" cried Raleigh--joyously.
+
+Instead of that, the galleons sailed for a narrow strait in the
+harbor--followed by the rest of the Spanish fleet--and cast anchor
+just under the stout fortress of Puntal. They arranged themselves in
+close array and awaited the attack of the English.
+
+The English fleet anchored, but at daybreak, the impetuous Raleigh
+bore down upon the formidable mass of hulking galleons. The sun rays
+streamed over the old, Spanish town, gilding the pinnaces and spires
+of the churches, shining brightly upon the flapping pennons of
+Britisher and Don. The white sails flapped, spars creaked and groaned,
+the sailors cheered, and--in a moment--the cannon began to bark, like
+wolf hounds. The fight had begun.
+
+Raleigh was the incarnation of battle. Passing rapidly from point to
+point upon the deck of his vessel, he encouraged and urged on his men,
+exposed himself as freely as the rest; and whenever a man faltered,
+there he appeared to urge the faint heart on with words of inspiration
+and hope.
+
+_Roar! Roar! Roar! Zoom! Zoom! Crash!_
+
+The arquebusses spittled and spat; cannon growled; and iron crashed
+into solid oak planking.
+
+The orders were not to board until the fly-boats (long, flat-bottomed
+vessels with high sterns) came up, which were manned by Dutch allies.
+For three hours the battle raged, but the fly-boats did not arrive.
+The Earl of Essex--the commander of this expedition--now ordered his
+flagship to pass through the advance line of vessels, and make the way
+to the front. Raleigh was chafing with rage because the fly-boats did
+not come, yet, in spite of the danger of being shot, he jumped into a
+light skiff, and was rowed over to the galleon of Essex.
+
+"I'll board the _Saint Philip_," cried he, "if the fly-boats do not
+soon arrive. Even though it be against the orders of the Admiral. For
+it is the same loss to burn, or to sink, and I must soon endure one or
+the other."
+
+"Go ahead!" yelled Essex, over the bow. "I'll second you, upon my
+honor!"
+
+Raleigh hastened with all speed to the deck of the _Water Sprite_,
+where his men were pounding away at the Spanish galleons with all
+their might and main. No sooner had he mounted the poop, than he saw,
+with anger, that two vessels of his own squadron had forced themselves
+into a position in front of his own; for their commanders wanted to
+win first honors in this battle at sea.
+
+Raleigh, himself, wished to have the honor, just like other sea
+captains in later battles. But,--that's another story.
+
+So, the gallant seaman ran the _Water Sprite_ between the two other
+ships and took up his position as leader. Sir Francis Vere of the
+_Rainbow_ was resolved to keep in front as well as Raleigh.
+
+As the _Water Sprite_ passed him he slyly cast a rope to a sailor, who
+tied it to her stern, and his own vessel thus kept abreast of the
+lumbering galley of his chief. "But," writes Sir Walter, "some of my
+company advising me thereof, I caused the rope to be cast off, and so
+Vere fell back in his place, where I guarded him--all but his very
+prow--from the sight of the enemy. I was very sure that none would
+outstart me again for that day."
+
+The guns of the fort appeared to be silent and the big galleons lay
+apparently helpless in the face of the valiant enemy. Raleigh moved
+on, but, as he was about to clutch his splendid prize, it escaped him,
+for the Spaniards--finding that they would be captured--made haste to
+run the _Saint Philip_, and several of her sister ships, aground on
+the sand.
+
+"Blow them up!" came the order.
+
+The Spanish sailors and soldiers came tumbling out of the ships into
+the sea in heaps--"as thick as if coals had been poured out of a sack
+into many pots at once." Then a terrific roar boomed forth. The air
+was filled with flying splinters, canvas, iron, and lead. The portions
+of the galleons were now floating upon the waves and the water was
+alive with the struggling bodies of the Spaniards as they desperately
+endeavored to save themselves.
+
+The spectacle was lamentable. Many drowned themselves. Many, half
+burned, leaped into the water; while others hung by the ropes' ends;
+by the ships' sides; under the sea, even to their lips. "If any man
+had a desire to see Hell, itself," wrote Sir Walter, "it was there
+most lively figured!"
+
+Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah!
+
+The English sailors were cheering, for victory was theirs, and of all
+the gallant warriors of that day, Raleigh had been the most
+persistently daring and heroic.
+
+"The _Saint Andrew_'s still afloat, good Sire!" cried one of his
+sailors at this moment.
+
+"Then we'll take her!" cried Raleigh.
+
+She was boarded and captured with little difficulty, while yet another
+galleon--the _Saint Matthew_--fell into his hands. These were the only
+vessels of all that proud Spanish fleet which had escaped the flames.
+
+Raleigh, himself, had been severely wounded in the leg, but he refused
+to release the command of his ship. He gave orders that all lives
+should be spared, and although these mandates were rigidly obeyed by
+the English soldiers, the Dutch cruelly slaughtered many of their
+hapless prisoners, for their hatred of the Spaniards was bitter and
+savage.
+
+Cadiz had not yet fallen and Raleigh was determined to go on shore
+with the troops and witness the taking of the town, in spite of his
+wound. A litter was prepared for him--he was lowered into one of the
+boats--rowed ashore, carried upon the shoulders of some of his
+faithful soldiers, and witnessed the furious struggle which now
+ensued. Cadiz fell. Although the lives of the people were spared; the
+castle, fortifications and the greater part of the town itself, were
+burned and demolished. If you go there, to-day, you will still find
+the marks of this great and stirring strife.
+
+There was nothing left but to put the Spanish prisoners aboard the
+galleons, collect the plunder, and set sail for England. When the
+fleet again swung into the little harbor of Plymouth it was received
+by the people with wildest enthusiasm and delight. All England rang
+with the praise of the valor and courage of her heroes, for Spain had
+been stripped of her ability to injure her English rival and England's
+power was supreme upon the sea. Raleigh and his comrades had done
+this,--and the descendants of Raleigh and his comrades have continued
+to uphold the supremacy. Hurrah for Raleigh!
+
+But how about those jealous courtiers? They were still around--Oh,
+yes!--And Raleigh was greeted at court as coldly as when he had
+departed with the fleet. He had been deprived of his office of Captain
+of the Queen's Guard, and even his bravery at Cadiz did not win this
+back for him. Nor did he receive any of the spoil which had been won
+by himself and his comrades. Even Queen Bess was angry because her
+share of the booty taken from Cadiz was not as great as she had hoped
+for.
+
+"What the Generals have got," wrote Sir Walter, "I know least. For my
+own part, I have got a game leg, and am deformed. I have received many
+good words and exceedingly kind and regardful usage; but I have
+possession of naught but poverty and pain."
+
+Not long afterwards the old Queen was persuaded to write Sir Walter to
+come to court, and thus he and his wife, whom Elizabeth had also
+forgiven, appeared daily in the brilliant throng which clustered in
+the halls and corridors of the Royal Palace. He was restored to his
+old office of Captain of the Queen's Guard and rode forth again in all
+the splendor of his uniform, at the side of the sovereign.
+
+The rest of Sir Walter's life can be briefly narrated. With Essex he
+took part in a successful expedition to the Azores, where they
+captured many ships, and with him divided much booty and fame. But
+Essex became too ambitious and started a conspiracy to place himself
+upon the throne of England. It was a failure. He was captured by the
+Queen's soldiers--a part under Sir Walter himself--was tried, and
+executed for High Treason.
+
+Queen Bess soon died and was succeeded by a man who disliked Sir
+Walter from the start. This was James the First of Scotland--a "dour"
+fellow--who charged the valorous knight with treason, for it was
+alleged that he had conspired, with Lord Cobham, to place the
+youthful Arabella Stuart upon the throne. He was tried, convicted, and
+thrown into the Tower, where he lived for twelve long, tedious years.
+Think of it! A fellow of his venturesome and restless spirit forced to
+remain in a dungeon-keep for such a time! Weep for brave Sir Walter!
+This was fine treatment for a patriot!
+
+But the jealous courtiers did not weep. Oh no! _They_ laughed.
+
+When gallant Sir Walter was thrown into the Tower (for he had not
+plotted against the King) he was a hale and stalwart cavalier of
+fifty-two. He was released--after twelve years--when his hair and
+beard were grizzled, his face worn and wrinkled, his body somewhat
+bent, and his features grave and sorrowful. With what tearful joy he
+clasped to his breast his ever faithful wife and his two sons! At
+sixty-four his brave spirit was still unshaken; his ardent and
+restless ambition was as keen as ever.
+
+He went forth with the sentence of death still hanging over his head;
+for King James, although giving a grudging consent to his release, had
+refused to pardon him. And he went forth with the understanding that
+he should lead an expedition to the coast of Guiana in South America;
+there to attack the Spaniards and gain plunder, gold, and jewels. If
+successful he was to go free. If non-successful, he was to suffer
+punishment--perhaps death!
+
+The expedition was a failure. The Spaniards and natives were well
+aware of his coming, for 'tis said that King James, himself, sent them
+news of the expedition.
+
+"If I go home it's off with my head," said Sir Walter. "But I'll risk
+it."
+
+Don't you think if you had been Sir Walter, instead of sailing to
+England where you knew that a headsman's axe awaited you, you would
+have coasted by the shores of the Chesapeake Bay and dropped off
+quietly where is the home of the canvas-back and the terrapin! Just
+stepped into one of the jolly-boats and peacefully drifted ashore on a
+dark night?
+
+I think that you would have been strongly inclined to do so,--but
+_you_ are not Sir Walter Raleigh. _He_ was a lion-hearted adventurer.
+
+Opportunity after opportunity came to him to escape to the shores of
+France. He let them go by, but, when he found that his enemies
+demanded his trial for treason, he thought it high time to get away.
+He learned that a French envoy had arranged to get him to France and
+had a barque for this purpose. A certain Captain King had found a
+small boat commanded by one of Sir Walter's old boatmen, which lay at
+Tilbury awaiting his orders. It was arranged by Raleigh's guard--one
+Stukeley--that he should be rowed to the little lugger on the evening
+of Sunday, August the 9th, 1618. The latter was sent up the Thames
+river to Gravesend.
+
+At the hour designated, Raleigh, Captain King, Stukeley and his son
+Hart, with a page, jumped into two small wherries in order to row to
+the lugger. They had just shoved off, when keen Sir Walter saw another
+boat push out from the bank and follow them.
+
+"How's this?" said he to Stukeley.
+
+But silent Stukeley did not answer.
+
+The boat rowed fast, but the pursuing craft moved with equal speed.
+The tide was singing and gurgling in a mad flow, and it became
+doubtful whether the wherries could reach Gravesend under the
+protection of darkness, for day was breaking, and the whirling water
+made progress very slow.
+
+At last--seeing that they could not get away--the shallops were forced
+to turn about and retrace their passage. The pursuing boat swung,
+also--like a shadow of the first. Sir Walter's heart beat
+tumultuously.
+
+When the fugitives reached Greenwich--Stukeley stood up and appeared
+in his true colors. Laying a hand upon the shoulder of faithful
+Captain King, he cried--
+
+"I arrest you in the name of our Monarch, James First!"
+
+Raleigh looked around in anger and dismay.
+
+"Stukeley," he said with heat, "you are a trait'rous cur. These
+actions will not turn out to your credit!"
+
+But the knave laughed derisively,--so derisively that the common
+people dubbed him "Sir Judas Stukeley." And it well suited him. Didn't
+it?
+
+The boatmen rowed directly to the Tower and the boat which had pursued
+the wherries--which contained a courtier named Herbert (to whom
+Stukeley had betrayed the projected escape)--followed them close. The
+soldiers in her (for they had been well hidden) escorted the dejected
+Sir Walter to the grim walls of the dungeon.
+
+There was now no hope for that gallant adventurer: the man had
+brought honor and renown to England. He was tried for Treason:
+condemned: executed.
+
+As he stood waiting for the axe to fall, he said:
+
+"I have many sins for which to beseech God's pardon. For a long time
+my course was a course of vanity. I have been a seafaring man, a
+soldier, and a courtier; and, in the temptations of the least of these
+there is enough to overthrow a good mind and a good man. I die in the
+faith professed by the Church of England. I hope to be saved, and to
+have my sins washed away by the precious blood and merits of our
+Saviour, Jesus Christ."
+
+A quick shudder ran through the multitude when Sir Walter had ceased
+to live, and many groaned aloud at the horrible sight. One stout
+yeoman cried out angrily, "We have not had such another head to be cut
+off."
+
+The crowd separated slowly, muttering and crying out against the
+enemies of the valiant man; while his friends, who were present,
+parted with tears coursing down their cheeks.
+
+And the jealous courtiers said: "Magnificent!" It was now their turn
+to shout. And they did it, too.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+So, you see, Sir Walter Raleigh's patriotism was paid for by death.
+The trouble with him was, he was too much of a man.
+
+_Nowadays_--when a soldier or sailor does something for England--they
+give him a Hip! Hip! Hurray!
+
+He is appreciated. He is presented with titles, honors, and a warm
+reception.
+
+_Then_, when a man did something for England, those in power gave him
+the cold shoulder; the icy stare.
+
+That's the reason why England's sons will do something for her now. If
+she had kept treating them as she did Sir Walter Raleigh she wouldn't
+have many of them around when it came to a fight. _And, some day,
+she'll need them all!_
+
+So when a fellow does something really great, don't greet him with
+frozen silence. _Cheer! He needs it! Besides,--it won't hurt you!_
+
+_Give a tiger and three times three!_
+
+
+THE VANISHED SAILORS
+
+    Say, sailors, what's happened to young Bill Jones?
+    Jones of Yarmouth; the bright-cheeked boy?
+    Jones who could handle a boat like a man,
+    Jones, who would grapple a smack like a toy?
+
+    "_Fell o'er the sea-end with Raleigh. Ahoy!_"
+
+    Well, sea-dogs, where's Thompson of Yarmouthport dock?
+    The chap who could outwit old Hawkins, they say,
+    The man with th' knowledge of charts and of reefs,
+    There wasn't his equal from Prawle to Torquay.
+
+    "_Fell o'er the sea-end with Raleigh, to-day!_"
+
+    Where's Rixey of Hampton; Smith of Rexhill?
+    Who'd coasted and traded from London to Ryde,
+    Huggins and Muggins, all seamen of worth,
+    Who could jibe and could sail, sir, when combers were wide?
+
+    "_Fell o'er the sea-end with Raleigh. Last tide!_"
+
+    Well, seamen, when that day shall come near,
+    When the salt sea is moved from its bed,
+    Some will there be, who can give us the news,
+    Of all that brave band, whom Adventure has led
+    To
+
+    "_Fall o'er the sea-end with Raleigh, 'tis said!_"
+
+
+
+
+    "Such is the man,
+    Whom neither shape nor danger can dismay,
+    Nor thought of tender happiness betray;
+    Who, not content that worth stands fast,
+    Looks forward, persevering to the last,
+    From good to better, daily self-surpassed."
+
+                    --_Ballads of the Day._
+
+
+
+
+JEAN BART
+
+THE SCOURGE OF THE DUTCH
+
+(1650-1702)
+
+
+    As long as selfishness remains a Human
+    Passion,--Warfare will continue.
+
+
+JEAN BART
+
+THE SCOURGE OF THE DUTCH
+
+(1650-1702)
+
+    "'What means that canvas, Skipper? It's bearing down to port,
+    And it drives a blackish barquentine, with every topsail taut,
+    There're guns upon her poop deck. There're cannon near her bow,
+    And the bugler's bloomin' clarion, it shrills a how-de-row?'
+    The skipper took a peep at her, his face turned ashen pale,
+    His jaw began to tremble, and his knees began to fail,
+    As the flag of France swung to the breeze and fluttered without check,
+    'Jean Bart!' he gurgled weakly, and fainted on the deck."
+
+                    --_Rhymes of The Dutch Channel Fleet._--1676.
+
+
+The good ship _Cochon Gras_ boiled along off the coast of Normandy
+under a full spread of canvas, for the breeze was light, and was from
+the southward. A boy of sixteen stood at the helm. He was well bronzed
+by exposure to the elements; was sturdy and strong. His dark hair
+waved luxuriantly about a face in which keenness and shrewdness were
+easily to be seen. His name was Jean Bart and he had been born at
+Dunkirk in France.
+
+The Captain of the _Cochon Gras_ strode about upon the deck below. He
+was in an evil mood and his voice showed his ill feeling.
+
+"Put the helm over!" he shouted to the steersman. "Don't you see that
+your sails aren't half full! Boy, will you never learn!"
+
+Jean Bart obeyed.
+
+"Very good, my Captain!" said he. "Very good, my Monsieur Valbué."
+
+And, at this, the captain scowled, for he was in a beastly temper.
+
+"I am glad that you act quickly," said he. "You know nothing. By
+acting quickly you will learn a thing or two. _Tiens!_ Be speedy! Be
+very quick! Be like the Bishop of Oléron!"
+
+He smiled and lurched against the rail.
+
+"Ah, this good prelate was a true seaman," said he. "He knew the tides
+like a mackerel. He knew as much as I do, myself, and that is saying a
+good deal."
+
+Jean Bart chuckled at the vanity of Monsieur Valbué.
+
+"The good Bishop was standing on the rocks upon a stormy evening,"
+continued the captain, "when he saw some fisher boats making for the
+harbor. One of them was bearing too close to the shore. One of them
+was going to go upon the rocks. One of them was steered by a poor
+fellow who knew neither the reefs nor the shoals. 'Voilà!' cried the
+good bishop. 'Voilà! I will save this dull-witted sailor.' And,
+forthwith, what do you think that he did,--?"
+
+A small knot of seamen had, by this time, collected around the
+talkative captain. They all shook their heads.
+
+[Illustration: JEAN BART.]
+
+"Fools," cried Captain Valbué. "Fools! Why, he strode into the sea, of
+course. Being a pure man of God and a member of the true church, he
+walked upon the surface of the water. The boat coming in was manned by
+Huguenots, by unbelievers, mark you! By fellows who had neither the
+sense nor the grace to be members of the true church. _They_ could not
+walk upon the water. Oh! No! But the good Bishop _he_ walked as easily
+as a stormy petrel, for he was a man of God. And, as he reached the
+boat he made the sign of the cross, saying, 'Beware of the rocks which
+you sail down upon! Bear off to the left! When you see the red buoy,
+bear to the right, and then come home by keeping your bow pointed for
+the spire of the big church!' And they did so. They were saved by the
+good Bishop, whom I know well. As for me. I would have let the foolish
+Huguenots get their just deserts. It would have been one heretic less
+and good riddance."
+
+At this one of the seamen was plainly angered.
+
+"Piff!" said he. "Piff!" That was all. But Monsieur Valbué had noticed
+it and Monsieur Valbué grew angry in a moment. Seizing a half-empty
+cider mug, from which he had been drinking, he hurled it at the head
+of the fellow who had made the remark.
+
+"You dog of a Huguenot!" he roared.
+
+The seaman dodged, and the cider mug spun into the planks of a jolly
+boat. Then he stepped forward and said,
+
+"Captain Valbué, the Laws of Oléron, under which we sail, say that you
+cannot and must not strike a seaman with any missile. I, Lanoix, will
+strike back if you hit me."
+
+But Monsieur Valbué was like a bubbling tea-pot. Seizing a
+hand-spike, he shot it out at the man who knew the law.
+
+"The Laws of Oléron allow me just one blow," blubbered Captain Valbué.
+"Just as the laws of England allow each dog one bite."
+
+As luck would have it, he missed his shot.
+
+Lanoix leaped over the iron rail which separated the forecastle from
+the after part of the vessel. Then he turned around.
+
+"Follow me here, you coward!" he shouted to the captain, "and I will
+have the right to crack you through the middle. Consult the Laws of
+Oléron under which we sail and see if they do not back me up!"
+
+"The laws be blowed!" yelled Monsieur Valbué, now beside himself with
+rage. And, leaping across the rail he struck the Huguenot two sturdy
+blows in the face.
+
+Jean Bart, meanwhile, steered the ship: looked on; and said nothing.
+
+R-i-i-p! There was a flash, a blow, and a cry of pain. A large, keen
+knife was clenched in the strong right hand of Lanoix, and the captain
+was running red, with a deep gash in his shoulder.
+
+"Down with the Mutineer! Down with the dog!" came from the throats of
+the members of the crew who had clustered about the two enraged men,
+smiling at the little affair.
+
+With a rush they were upon the Huguenot; had forced him to the deck;
+and wrested the knife from his hand. But, before it was wrenched from
+his fist, the blade had pierced the body of a seaman and had felled
+him to the boarding.
+
+"Bring up the Laws of Oléron," cried Captain Valbué, when the Huguenot
+had been secured. "Bring up the Laws of Oléron from my cabin, and let
+us see whether or no I was right, when I struck this prating Lanoix!"
+
+The cabin-boy dove below and was soon again upon the deck.
+
+"The law shall be read," cried the captain. "Out with it!"
+
+Now, aboard the vessel was one Antoine Sauret--a good, old
+boatswain--a friend of the father of Jean Bart, and a courageous man.
+
+"The law shows you to be in the wrong," said he.
+
+"Yes," cried Jean Bart from the wheel, which he had not left. "You
+were, and are, in the wrong." Monsieur Valbué glowered at them.
+
+"I am the law," said he. "Is this not my vessel?"
+
+"But the right is on his side," interrupted the good Antoine Sauret.
+
+"You wait and see what I do to this cur of a Huguenot," snarled
+Captain Valbué. "And no more talk from either you or Jean Bart. Hear!
+Six out of eight of the crew agree that this Lanoix has wounded me and
+has slain one of his ship-mates--without proper provocation--I will
+now fix him."
+
+And this he did in the most approved manner.
+
+Lashing his victim's arm to a sharp sword tied to the windlass, he
+knocked the unfortunate Lanoix upon the deck with a hand-spike. Then,
+tying him--still alive--to the dead sailor whom the Huguenot had
+killed when the crew rushed upon him,--he cried out:
+
+"Throw 'em both to the fishes!"
+
+They were seized.
+
+"One! Two! Three! Heave Away!" sounded from the throats of the
+Frenchmen.
+
+Lanoix and the dead sailor spun out above the blue water. A splash. A
+gurgle of white foam, and the Atlantic closed above them.
+
+Seamen--you witness--were brutes, in these merry days of privateering.
+But hear the sequel of the gruesome story!
+
+Jean Bart and the good boatswain Sauret had, from that moment, no high
+opinion of the Laws of Oléron. So, when the vessel touched at Calais,
+upon the coast of France, they walked up to the captain, saying:
+
+"Sir. We wish to leave you! We cannot sail any longer beneath your
+orders."
+
+The brutal Valbué scowled.
+
+"Go!" said he. "And good riddance."
+
+But when the circumstances of the death of the two men were reported
+to the authorities, the captain was tried.
+
+"The Law of Oléron," said the Judge to him, "acquits you, for the
+Huguenot sailor was in the wrong to draw his knife, when you struck
+him only with your fists. But it is a bad law and must be changed."
+
+Here he turned to young Jean Bart and the good Sauret.
+
+"As for you two," said he, "I most highly commend you for protesting
+against the brutality of this captain. Would that all the sailors of
+France were as good as both of you. If they were, there would be less
+trouble aboard ship. Again I commend you!"
+
+So--feeling very happy, indeed--young Jean Bart went out into the
+street. Though only sixteen he had been right in his attempt to save
+the life of poor Lanoix. Good for young Bart! Hats off to the sailor
+lad of sixteen who was more merciful than the cruel Law of Oléron! And
+this brutal set of rules was soon changed to the Maritime Code of
+France, which gave seamen some right to defend themselves against the
+attacks of rough and overbearing captains. Thus Jean Bart had started
+the ball rolling in the right direction. Again hats off to the
+doughty, young Frenchman!
+
+Not long after this event the Dutch fell out with the English and
+began a smart little war. Jean Bart hastened to the scene of action,
+enrolled in the Dutch cause, and fought with them for five full years.
+Then the Dutch began to make war upon the French (in 1672), but this
+was too much for the patriotic sentiments of the youthful volunteer.
+
+"Ah!" said he. "When my own people are attacked, I must hasten to
+their assistance. The Dutch have paid me well 'tis true, but now I
+scorn their gold. Vive la France!"
+
+So saying, he returned to Dunkirk, speedily found employment, and went
+to sea again--not in a man-of-war, but in a privateer. He was now
+four-and-twenty; was wiry, tough, and well used to battling both with
+men and with the elements. The boat he sailed in mounted only two guns
+and had a crew of thirty-six. She was named after a famous personage
+of Biblical history: _King David_, and she conducted herself as
+skilfully as did that ancient monarch, for was not Jean Bart at the
+helm?
+
+Cruising out upon the treacherous waters of the North Sea, it was not
+long before a vessel was sighted that was of such small tonnage that
+Bart was not afraid to give chase. He slapped on all canvas, put his
+helm hard over, and steered for the dancing bit of canvas. The _King
+David_ was a swift sailer, and soon the bow-gun spoke from the deck of
+the French privateer, sending a challenging shot whistling close to
+the stern of the stranger, who flew the flag of the States General
+(the Dutch Republic) with which the French were now at war.
+
+The stranger did not relish the challenge, and came to in a hurry,
+while her flag fluttered weakly to the deck.
+
+"She's ours!" cried Jean Bart, gleefully. "And without a fight. Hurray
+for the life of a privateer!"
+
+Quickly ranging alongside, the stranger was seen to be a valuable
+prize, laden with tea, spices, and cotton. She was manned by a small
+crew and sent to port.
+
+"Now off for other luck!" cried Jean Bart.
+
+Luck was with him, too. In four months cruising in the English
+Channel, near the Belgian coast, he captured six prizes; all without
+any fighting. The Dutch trading vessels of those days must have been
+without guns and poorly manned, for it should have been easy to stand
+off a crew of but thirty-six, with only two cannon aboard. Jean
+Bart--you may be sure--was well satisfied. He was now rich, quite
+famous, and keen for further adventure.
+
+So well did the owners of the privateer _King David_ think of him,
+that they now put him in charge of a larger vessel named _La Royale_,
+carrying about eighty men and ten guns.
+
+"Go out and win!" cried the chief owner of this privateer. "Jean Bart,
+you are followed by the best blood of France. Your men are all from
+Dunkirk!"
+
+And Jean Bart smiled.
+
+"Watch me!" said he.
+
+Cruising near the coast of Holland in company with a small French
+gun-boat, he fell in with a man-of-war--the _Esperance_--carrying
+twelve guns and about one hundred and twenty men.
+
+"Now we'll have a real fight!" cried the youthful French commander as
+he cleared decks for action. "Men, see to it that your swords are
+sharpened for there may be some boarding!"
+
+Then he signalled to the little French gun-boat to follow him and give
+battle. This ally carried about a hundred men and six cannon.
+
+"Poof! Poof!"
+
+The heavy guns of the Dutchman were the first to speak and they barked
+away like fat Newfoundland watch-dogs.
+
+"Poof! Poof! B-o-o-m!"
+
+Jean Bart reserved his fire until within about seventy-five yards and
+then he gave the command,
+
+"Fire away! Aim low! And try to hull her!"
+
+A sheet of flame sprang from the ten guns of _La Royale_ and a
+splitting of boards and crackling of splinters showed that the iron
+missiles had punctured the stout sides of the _Esperance_.
+
+"Pop! Pop! Crash!"
+
+The other French vessel now threw her lead into the stern of the
+defender of the flag of the States General and her mizzen-mast was
+seen to rock like an unfastened May pole.
+
+"Whow!"
+
+The _Esperance_ was not slow in answering back and her twelve guns
+spat like leopards in the brush. She filled away and bore towards the
+land, but the French gun-boat saw this move and checkmated it.
+
+Sailing across her bow, the Frenchman raked her fore and aft, while
+the rub-a-dub-dub of Jean Bart's guns went drumming against her
+starboard side. Crash! Crash! Crash! Her boards were split, her
+mizzen-mast was swaying, and her rigging was near cut in two. Men were
+falling fast and two of her guns had blown up and were rendered
+useless.
+
+"Surrender!" came a sharp hail from the lusty throat of Jean Bart,
+and, as he spoke, a perfect hail of grape came from his French ally,
+now creeping up to port for a chance to grapple and board.
+
+"What can I do?" sighed the stout, Dutch commander, turning to one of
+his lieutenants. "Boy, haul down our flag!"
+
+So down came the emblem of the States General amidst ringing cheers
+from the throats of the followers of Jean Bart. They had won a notable
+victory.
+
+When the _Esperance_ was towed and half-sailed into Dunkirk harbor,
+old Antoine Sauret was there.
+
+"Ah, my friends," said he, "I always told you that my boy, Jean Bart,
+would make a great name for himself. Three times three for the great
+privateer of Dunkirk!"
+
+And all the bystanders joined in right willingly.
+
+Not long after this event, our hero's ship was lying in the harbor of
+Bergen in Sweden. The captain of an English vessel met him on shore,
+and, after having a chat with him, remarked:
+
+"I hear that you have quite a reputation for fighting your ship. I,
+too, am a sea warrior and would like to have a little affair with you.
+My own vessel is of about the same tonnage as yours, so that we could
+meet upon even terms. Will you join me?"
+
+"I would be delighted," answered the war-like Jean Bart. "If you wait
+two days I will be ready for you and will fight you three miles off
+the coast. Meanwhile I must lie here and take on some stores which are
+much needed by both men and guns."
+
+The Englishman smiled.
+
+"You are a man after my own heart," said he. "Good-by until we meet in
+battle."
+
+Three days after this, Jean Bart sent a boy to the English vessel with
+a note for the captain. It ran:
+
+    "I am ready to fight you to-morrow. Meet me three miles
+    beyond the breakwater and may the best man win. Until
+    then--good luck.
+
+        "Yours for battle,
+
+            "JEAN BART."
+
+The boy came back bearing a return missive from the Englishman, who
+wrote:
+
+    "MONSIEUR BART: I am delighted to learn that you want to
+    fight me, and will do so. You are indeed a brave man.
+    But--before we go for each other's throats--pray let us
+    breakfast together. Will you therefore take your morning
+    meal with me, to-morrow, in my own cabin, aboard my
+    ship? I shall expect you.
+
+        "Yours to count on,
+
+            "MIDDLETON."
+
+"I do not want to accept, but I will," mused Captain Bart. "These
+English fellows are far too polite."
+
+So, next morning, he was rowed to the British vessel and was soon
+breakfasting with his red-faced opponent.
+
+After the meal the Frenchman lighted his pipe, took a few puffs, and
+said:
+
+"Monsieur, I have greatly enjoyed this peaceful repast. But it is now
+time for me to go and sharpen my boarding-pike. I must bid you adieu."
+
+The Englishman smiled.
+
+"No," said he. "You cannot go. You are my prisoner!"
+
+Jean Bart still smoked.
+
+"You are too quick!" he answered, slowly. "There you are wrong. I am
+not your prisoner, for I see a barrel of gunpowder on the deck, and,
+if you do not release me immediately, I will blow up your ship!"
+
+The Englishman turned pale.
+
+"Watch me!" cried Jean Bart.
+
+Leaping from his seat, he rushed to the deck, lighted a match from his
+pipe, and held it directly over the mouth of a barrel of gunpowder,
+from which someone had pried the head.
+
+"Lay on! You cowards!" he yelled. "Lay on, and we'll all go to the
+Land of the Hereafter together."
+
+His cry was heard upon his own vessel, which--with sails up--lay
+waiting for him.
+
+In a moment her bow was turned towards the British ship which was
+still at anchor, with sails unhoisted. In a moment she dropped down
+alongside--and--in less time than it takes to tell--the Frenchmen had
+brought her upon the port quarter, and were swarming across the deck
+to rescue their bold captain.
+
+Taken by surprise, the English put up a plucky fight, but they were no
+match for the infuriated men of Dunkirk. They were soon overpowered.
+The captain was taken prisoner, and the vessel was considered a
+legitimate prize of war, because of the trick which Middleton had
+attempted to play upon Jean Bart. When--in a few days--the prize was
+sailed into Dunkirk harbor--the Englishman well wished that he had not
+attempted to capture the most able privateersman of all France.
+
+The fame of this exploit spread over the land, and gave rise to a
+ditty, which ran:
+
+    "If you want to catch Jean Bart, sir,
+    A slippery, slimy chap,
+    Don't bait him with gunpowder,
+    For he's sure to miss the trap.
+    You must splice him down with chains, sir;
+    You must nail him to the deck.
+    Put a belt around his middle,
+    And a collar 'round his neck.
+    Even then you cannot hold him,
+    For he's certain to get through,
+    While his sailors sing a song, sir,
+      With a
+            Cock-
+                  a-
+                    doodle-
+                            doo!"
+
+In July, 1675, Jean Bart was married, but he did not remain long on
+shore. Three weeks after this auspicious event he once more put to sea
+and captured a number of Dutch fishing boats, which he allowed the
+captains to ransom for large sums of money.
+
+This was a very convenient arrangement, for it saved him the trouble
+of putting part of his own crew on board and sending the boats to
+port. But the owners of _La Royale_, upon which he sailed, did not
+care for his methods of procedure.
+
+"You cannot do this in future!" said they. "And you must forfeit half
+of what you took to us!"
+
+Jean Bart obeyed, but he was very angry. It is even said that he
+uttered "a round seaman's oath."
+
+So successful was he, in fact, that he was given a much larger vessel
+in 1676. This was a frigate--the _Palme_--with twenty-four guns and a
+crew of one hundred and fifty men. Sailing into the North Sea with two
+small French gun-boats, he soon fell in with three Dutch privateers
+and eight armed whaling vessels. He attacked, and the battle raged for
+three long, bloody hours.
+
+When the smoke and the fumes of sulphur burned away, Bart had boarded
+the largest privateer, while his two consorts had taken the eight
+whalers. The other Dutch privateers found it too hot for their liking
+and scudded for the coast, firing their stern-guns derisively as they
+disappeared. It was a great victory, and again the French coast rung
+with salvos for Jean Bart, while the old sea-dogs shrugged their
+shoulders, saying:
+
+"Ah! Ha! Did we not tell you that Dunkirk bred men of bone and marrow.
+Ah! Ha!"
+
+But Jean Bart was not happy.
+
+"Would that I could meet a foe of my own force," he used to say.
+"Either a man-of-war or a privateer, I don't care which. I want to try
+it on with one of my own size and strength."
+
+His wish was soon to be gratified.
+
+On September 7th, 1676, he was pointing the _Palme_ towards the
+Belgian coast-line, when he sighted a number of sail on the starboard
+quarter. He headed for them; scanned the white dots through a glass,
+and saw that this was a fishing fleet of small, unarmed luggers. But
+a big, hulking Dutch frigate hovered in their rear, and thirty-two
+guns pointed their brown muzzles menacingly from her open port-holes.
+She was the _Neptune_ and she lazed along like a huge whale:
+omnipotent and self-satisfied.
+
+"Ah ha!" cried the delighted Jean Bart. "Now I have met an enemy that
+is worthy of my steel. Up with the flag and sail into yonder Dutchman.
+We have but twenty-four guns to her thirty-two, but are we to be awed
+by this show of force? Be ready, my boys, to have the stiffest fight
+in your careers!"
+
+The Dutchman was equally well pleased when he saw who was coming for
+him.
+
+"Here is Jean Bart, the pirate and privateer," he cried. "For three
+years I've been hoping to have a fight with him and now my chance has
+come at last. I am fortunate, for I can pay him back for all the
+damage that he has done to Dutch commerce. Shoot low, my hearties, and
+do not fail to hull our enemy. Let your war-cry be: 'Down with Jean
+Bart and his pirate crew!'"
+
+"Hurrah!" shouted his men.
+
+And an answering
+
+"Hurray!" came from the _Palme_. These opponents were as eager to get
+at each other as two prize-fighters of modern days.
+
+_Crash!_ roared a broadside from the Dutch frigate as her flag went
+aloft, and splash, splash, splash, went her shells around the sides of
+the privateer.
+
+"Sail in close!" yelled Jean Bart. "Hug her to leeward for awhile,
+then cross her bows, rake her, get her wind, and board."
+
+"Hurray!" shouted the men of Dunkirk, and a rattle, rattle, roar came
+from the port guns of the _Palme_.
+
+Around and around swung the sea gladiators and the little fishing
+boats luffed and tittered on the waves like inquisitive sparrows.
+
+"Bart cannot win!" said several of their skippers. "For he's
+outweighted and outnumbered!"
+
+But Bart was fighting like John Paul Jones.
+
+Around and around went the two opponents, guns growling, men cheering,
+sails slapping and ripping with the chain and solid shot. Again and
+again Jean Bart endeavored to get a favorable position for boarding
+and again and again he was forced to tack away by the quick manoeuvres
+of the Dutchman.
+
+"Fire into her rigging!" he now thundered. "Cripple those topsails and
+I can bring my boat alongside."
+
+"_Crash! Crash! Crash!_"
+
+Volley after volley puffed from the side of the rolling _Palme_.
+Volley after volley poured its lead and iron into the swaying rigging
+of the Dutchman, and, with a great roaring, ripping, and smashing, the
+mizzen topmast came toppling over the lee rail.
+
+A lusty cheer sounded from the deck of the _Palme_.
+
+"She's ours!" cried Jean Bart, smiling.
+
+Instantly he spun over the wheel, luffed, and brought his boat upon
+the starboard quarter of the Dutchman, who was now part helpless. It
+took but a moment to run alongside, and, in a moment more, the
+_Palme_ was lashed to the _Neptune_ in a deadly embrace. Smoke rolled
+from the sides of both contestants and the roar of the guns drowned
+the shrill cries of the wounded. The Dutchmen were now desperate and
+their guns were spitting fire in rapid, successive volleys; but many
+of them were silenced, as the great, brown side of the _Palme_ rubbed
+its planking against the splintered railing of the shattered
+_Neptune_.
+
+As the vessels were securely bound together, Jean Bart seized a
+boarding-pike, a brace of pistols, and, giving the helm to a sailor,
+leaped into the waist of his ship.
+
+"Board! Board!" he shouted.
+
+A wild yelp greeted these welcome sounds. As he vaulted over the rail
+of his own ship to the deck of the stranger, a motley crew of
+half-wild sea-savages swarmed behind him. They had cutlasses and
+boarding-pikes, and their faces were blackened with powder. Their eyes
+were reddened with sulphurous fumes and their clothes torn with
+splintered planking. They rolled over the gunwales like a huge wave of
+irresistible fire: pistols spitting, pikes gleaming, cutlasses
+glistening in the rays of the sun.
+
+The captain of the _Neptune_ lay near his own wheel, grievously
+wounded.
+
+"Lay on, men!" he shouted. "Don't let this French privateer beat us.
+We will be disgraced."
+
+But his sailors were no match for the onrush of these fiends from
+Dunkirk. They fell back like foam before a sea squall.
+
+"Then down with our flag," cried the captain of the Dutchman. "But,
+ye gods, how it hurts me to give the order."
+
+A sailor seized the halyards and pulled the ensign to the deck, and,
+as it fell upon the reddened planking, a wild, frenzied cheer came
+from the French privateers.
+
+"Jean Bart, forever! France forever! Jean Bart forever!" they cried.
+
+"Up with the French flag!" yelled Jean Bart, laughing like a boy. "Up
+with the white lilies of France."
+
+And, as a spare ensign ran aloft, the little fishing luggers scudded
+for the shore.
+
+"After them, men!" cried Captain Bart. "Our work is not yet over. We
+must have the lambs as well as the old wolf."
+
+So, sail was soon clapped on the _Palme_, she headed for the fleeing
+boats, and, with a few well directed shots, hove them to. Then they
+were told to follow behind and head for France, which they did--but,
+oh! how it did hurt!
+
+It was a proud moment for Jean Bart, and his eyes danced with pleasure
+when he sailed into Dunkirk with the captured _Neptune_ and the fleet
+of fishing boats.
+
+"Voilà!" cried the townspeople. "Jean Bart is a true hero. Voilà! He
+shall have the freedom of the city. Voilà!"
+
+The fame of this gallant exploit soon spread abroad and the king
+showed some desire to see this courageous privateersman.
+
+"I would have him at court," said he to his minister Colbert. "For I
+would reward him."
+
+When news of this was brought to the privateersman he was naturally
+delighted, and, travelling to Versailles, was ushered into the
+presence of his Majesty.
+
+"Here is a gold chain for you," said the king. "I trust that you will
+keep it in recognition of my appreciation of your gallant conduct. I
+would be glad, indeed, to have you in the Royal Service. Would you not
+take a commission?"
+
+"You overwhelm me," answered the valiant sea-fighter, blushing.
+"I--I--I--am quite disconcerted. But--if it would please your Majesty,
+I believe that I would prefer to remain a simple privateer. It is a
+free life and it suits my roving nature."
+
+The king chuckled.
+
+"So be it," said he. "But my good sir, keep yourself in readiness for
+a commission. I may need you in the Royal Marine!"
+
+"Very good, Sire!" said Jean Bart, and, bowing low, he withdrew.
+
+But he did not get away without an adventure,--quite as exciting as
+any he had had aboard the rocking decks of one of his privateer ships.
+
+The fame of Jean Bart had stirred up a number of enemies, for, when a
+man is successful in life, are there not always a hundred unsuccessful
+fellows who stand about and scoff?
+
+Among these were a few followers of the sea who had determined to
+make way with this too fortunate privateer. One--Jules Blanc by
+name--even decided upon murder, if Jean Bart would not agree to leave
+the privateering business to himself and his companions.
+
+As the sailor from Dunkirk left the presence of the king he was
+accosted by one of his old acquaintances.
+
+"Ha, Jean Bart," said he. "Come with me to the Inn. Have a glass with
+me, my boy, for I see that the king has richly rewarded you. You
+deserve it, for you have done well, and you must be tired from your
+journey. Come, let us dine together?"
+
+Suspecting nothing, the gallant privateer followed his companion quite
+willingly, and, when he arrived at the Inn, was not surprised to find
+several other seamen from Dunkirk and the neighboring seaports of
+France. They greeted him warmly.
+
+"To your health!" cried they, raising their glasses of wine. "To the
+health of the bravest privateer in all of France."
+
+Jean Bart was delighted. He smiled like a child, seated himself at
+their table, and began to drink with these jovial men of the sea.
+
+As he sat there, suddenly a paper was mysteriously shoved into his
+hand. He did not see from whence it came, and, as he scanned its
+contents, his face grew strangely pale.
+
+"Beware of these fellows," he read. "They mean to kill you if you do
+not do what they wish. Beware!"
+
+Jean Bart soon regained his composure.
+
+"Come! Let us go to the dining-room up-stairs," said the friend who
+had first accosted him. "Come, my boys! We will there have far more
+quiet!"
+
+All moved for the door.
+
+Jean Bart moved, also, but before he went up-stairs, he loosened his
+sword-belt and cocked two pistols which he carried at his waist. He
+was not surprised when he saw them lock the stout door as they entered
+the room upon the second floor.
+
+When they were all seated Jules Blanc arose. His face well exhibited
+his dislike for the successful privateersman, Jean Bart.
+
+"Now, my friend," said he, facing the man from Dunkirk, "we have you
+here with a purpose. We wish you to know that we are determined that
+you shall no longer go to sea and spoil our own business for us. You
+have had enough success. We want you to withdraw and give some one
+else a chance."
+
+Jean Bart smiled.
+
+"We think that you should retire for we want some pickings for
+ourselves."
+
+"And if I refuse?" queried Jean Bart.
+
+Jules Blanc placed his hand instantly upon his sword-hilt.
+
+"Then--there will be trouble!"
+
+"Poof!" said Jean Bart.
+
+As he spoke, all drew their rapiers.
+
+"Again Poof!" said Jean Bart.
+
+As he spoke, a thrust came from his right. He parried it, leaped upon
+a chair, and stood there smiling.
+
+Crack! There was the sound of a pistol and a bullet whizzed by his
+ear.
+
+Then there was a sudden and awful _Crash!_ The room was filled with
+dust.
+
+When the startled sea-dogs looked about them Jean Bart no longer stood
+upon the table. He had disappeared through the window. And broken
+glass with splintered fastenings was all that remained of the once
+perfect glazing.
+
+"He has gone," said Jules Blanc. "Fellow seamen, we are outdone."
+
+But Jean Bart was a quarter of a mile away, laughing softly to
+himself, as he sped along the highway which led to quiet Dunkirk.
+
+Things went well with him, also, for his employers--appreciating his
+past services--now gave him command of a larger ship than the _Palme_:
+the _Dauphin_, with thirty guns and two hundred eager and adventurous
+sailors from the northern coast of France.
+
+Sailing forth from Dunkirk harbor, on June 18th, 1678, Jean Bart
+eagerly scanned the horizon with his glass. With him were two smaller
+privateers, so that he felt well able to cope with any adversary from
+Holland. His keen glance was soon to be rewarded, for when but two
+days from port he spied a sail upon the starboard bow. It was a Dutch
+frigate--the _Sherdam_--of forty guns and manned by many stout dogs of
+the sea. Her captain--André Ranc--was a keen fighter and a man of
+well-tried courage.
+
+"Bear off to leeward!" signalled Jean Bart to his privateer
+companion. "Then we will get the stranger between us, fasten to her,
+and board her from either side."
+
+The flag of the French privateer dipped back an answering, "All
+right!" and, as she was nearest to the Dutchman, she attacked at once.
+
+"_Poom! Poom!_" went the Dutch cannon, like the beating of a churn in
+that land of canals and cheese-making. And _piff! piff!_ answered the
+little howitzers of the privateer.
+
+But Jean Bart meant to have a quick fight, so he bore down to
+starboard, wore ship, and ran so close to the enemy, that his
+grappling irons soon held her fast. In a moment more his own vessel
+was hauled alongside.
+
+Meanwhile the smaller French privateer had spanked over to larboard;
+had run up upon the opposite side of the lumbering Dutchman; and had
+also gripped her. A wild, nerve-wracking cheer went up, as--sword in
+hand--Jean Bart led his boarders over the side of the Dutch vessel.
+
+Ranc was badly wounded but he led his men to a counter assault with
+courage born of desperation. Cutlasses crashed together,
+boarding-pikes smashed and hacked, and pistols growled and spattered
+in one discordant roar. Back went the Dutch sailors fighting savagely
+and bluntly with all the stubbornness of their natures, then back they
+pushed the followers of Jean Bart, while Ranc called to them:
+
+"Drive these French curs into the sea!"
+
+[Illustration: "JEAN BART LED HIS BOARDERS OVER THE SIDE OF THE DUTCH
+VESSEL."]
+
+But now the other privateer had made fast, and her men came clambering
+over the rail, with cutlass, dirk, and pistols.
+
+"We're outnumbered," Ranc shouted, his face showing extreme suffering.
+"Haul down the flag! Had Jean Bart been here alone I could have
+trounced him well."
+
+Thus reluctantly and sadly the flag of the _Sherdam_ came down. But
+the French had paid well for their victory.
+
+Jean Bart was badly wounded in the leg; his face was burned by the
+discharge of a gun, which went off--almost in his eyes--just as he
+leaped on board the _Sherdam_. Six of his men were killed and
+thirty-one were wounded, while the little privateer that had fastened
+to the other flank of the huge _Sherdam_, was a total wreck. So well,
+indeed, had the Dutch fighters plied their cannon as she approached,
+that she was shattered almost beyond repair. With great difficulty she
+was finally towed to shore.
+
+Of course all France again rang with the fame of Jean Bart, while the
+crafty sea-dogs who had endeavored to capture the slippery
+privateersman were furious with envious rage. But Jean Bart hummed a
+little tune to himself, which ran,
+
+    "You'll have to get up early if you want to catch Jean Bart,
+    You'll have to get up early, and have a goodly start,
+    For the early bird can catch the worm, if the worm is fast asleep,
+    But not if it's a privateer, who can through a window leap."
+
+This invincible corsair was also not idle, for in two weeks' time he
+was again at sea in the _Mars_ of thirty-two guns, and a fast sailer.
+Eagerly looking for prizes, he cruised far up the coast of Holland and
+was keenly hunting for either merchantman or frigate, when a small
+vessel neared him, upon which was flying a white flag.
+
+"A truce!" cried Jean Bart. "The war must be over."
+
+When the little boat drew nearer, a fat Dutchman called out something
+which sounded like, "Amsterdam yam Goslam!" which meant, "Peace has
+been declared," in Dutch.
+
+So Jean Bart sailed back into the sheltering harbor of Dunkirk with
+tears of sorrow in his eyes, for he loved his exciting life.
+
+"Helas!" said he. "It is all over!"
+
+Thus, indeed, ended the career of Jean Bart as a privateer captain. In
+January, 1679, he was given the commission of lieutenant in the French
+navy, but, although he accepted, he was never happy in this service.
+From captain to lieutenant was a decided come down, and besides this,
+the aristocratic officers of the Crown made life very unpleasant for
+one who had entered their ranks from privateering.
+
+"Bah!" said they. "He is only a commoner!" And they would turn up
+their titled noses.
+
+But--mark you this!
+
+Several hundred years have passed since those days, and Jean Bart's
+name is still remembered. Who remembers the names of any of these
+titled nobles who held commissions from his Majesty, the King of
+France?
+
+I do not think that any of you do. Certainly I do not.
+
+Therefore, there is a little lesson to be learned, and it is this:
+
+Never sneer at the fellow who accomplishes things, if he be of humble
+birth. _His_ name may go down to history. _Yours_ probably will not.
+
+So, the next time that you are tempted to do this, think it over. If
+you do, you will not say, "Pish,--the Commoner!" But you will say,
+
+"Well done! The Hero!"
+
+So, good-by, Jean Bart, and may France produce your like again, if she
+can!
+
+
+
+
+    "Keep these legends, gray with age,
+    Saved from the crumbling wrecks of yore,
+    When cheerful conquerors moored their barques
+    Along the Saxon shore."
+
+                    --THOMPSON.
+
+
+
+
+DU GUAY-TROUIN
+
+THE GREAT FRENCH "BLUE"
+
+(1673-1736)
+
+
+    "Self trust is the essence of Heroism."--PLUTARCH.
+
+
+DU GUAY-TROUIN
+
+THE GREAT FRENCH "BLUE"
+
+(1673-1736)
+
+    "He's only a scurvy Democrat, his blood is hardly blue,
+    Oh, Sacre Nom de Dieu! Sapristi! Eet is true!
+    Yet, he fights like the Maid of Orleans, with dirk and halberd,
+        too,
+    Oh, Sacre Nom de Dieu! Sapristi! Eet is true!
+    Then--what'll you think, good gentlemen, you men of the kingly
+        pack,
+    Ye sons of Armand the Terrible, ye whelps of Catouriac,
+    Shall _he_ gain the royal purple? Shall _he_ sit in the ranks
+        with us?
+    Shall _he_ quaff of our golden vintage, shall _he_ ride in the
+        royal bus?
+    Nay! Nay! For that would be te-r-r-ible! Nay! Nay! _That ill-born
+        cuss?_
+    Par donc! but that is unbearable! 'Twould result in a shameful
+        fuss!
+    Pray, let him remain a Democrat--The cream of the fleet for us."
+
+                    --_Song of the French Royal Marine._--1695.
+
+
+"You _must_ be a churchman, Rénee," said the good Luc Trouin, turning
+to his little son. "I have always had a great ambition to have a child
+of mine in the church, and I feel that you are in every way qualified
+for the position of a prelate."
+
+But little Rénee hung his head.
+
+"Look up, boy," continued the amiable Frenchman. "I know that you are
+not now pleased with the idea, but--later on--after you have had more
+experience, I feel sure that you can thank Heaven that your good
+father started you in the right and proper direction."
+
+Still, little Rénee hung his head.
+
+"Tut! Tut!" continued the old man. "You will leave, to-morrow, for the
+college at Rheims, and, after you have been there but a short time, I
+feel sure that you will like it. Tut! Tut!"
+
+But still little Rénee hung his head.
+
+Again came the amiable "Tut! Tut!" and the chuckling Luc Trouin
+wandered off into the garden to see how well the potatoes were
+growing.
+
+But little Rénee still hung his head.
+
+And--in spite of the fact that little Rénee went to the Divinity
+school at Rheims, he continued to hang his head. He hung his head for
+three years. Then, news was brought to him, one day, that the good Luc
+Trouin was dead, and, instead of holding his handkerchief to his eyes
+to wipe away the tears, as one would expect of him, little Rénee burst
+into loud laughter.
+
+"At last," cried he, "I can get away from the church and go to sea. At
+last my freedom has come!"
+
+And it was not many hours before little Rénee was scudding away from
+the school of Divinity, like a clipper-ship under a full spread of
+canvas, before a rousing sou'west breeze.
+
+For at least two hundred years before the birth of bad, little Rénee,
+the Trouin family had been well known and prosperous in the Breton
+seaport of St. Malo. For many years a Trouin had been consul at
+Malaga, Spain; and other members of the house had held excellent
+positions with the King, so little Rénee had no reason to be ashamed
+of his forebears, in spite of the fact that his people were of the
+"bourgeoisie:" ship-owners, traders, smugglers, privateers, and
+merchants. And, as they were of the "bourgeoisie," they were somewhat
+looked down upon by the proud and haughty aristocrats who fawned about
+the weak and dissipated King.
+
+Little Rénee was the son of Luc Trouin and Marguerite Boscher but he
+was called Du Guay-Trouin, in later years, and the reason for this is
+plain. For--in accordance with the custom of the time--he was sent to
+be nursed by a foster mother who resided in the little village of Le
+Gué. So he was called Trouin du Gué; which shortly became Du
+Guay-Trouin.
+
+"I've come home, mother," shouted little Rénee, when he had plodded
+his weary way which lay between his temporary prison and the house of
+his parents. "I've come home, mother, and I'm going to sea!"
+
+But his mother did not take any too kindly to this bold and valiant
+idea.
+
+"You must study law," said she, with great firmness. And--in spite of
+the fact that little Rénee begged and pleaded--he was forced to give
+up his idea of seafaring life for the dry drudgery and routine of a
+clerk at law. He was now about sixteen years of age.
+
+"The law is dry and my spirits are high," youthful Rénee is said to
+have carolled as he spent his first few hours at a lecture, "and
+whatever may be I'm going to sea."
+
+At any rate, he soon got into trouble and engaged in three duels in
+his sixteenth year, in one of which his assailant gave him a serious
+wound. This was too much for even his stern mother to bear, so,
+summoning a family council, she gave forth the following opinion:
+
+"Rénee has failed as a student of Divinity. Rénee has failed as a
+student of law. Rénee has entirely too high spirits. Rénee shall,
+therefore, be placed in one of the family ships and sent to sea."
+
+And to this decree Rénee is said to have cried: "At last! Hurray!" for
+he longed for action.
+
+In a very short time little Rénee had a taste of that war and
+adventure which he craved, for a historian writes that:
+
+"During the first three months of this cruise his courage was tried by
+a violent tempest, an imminent shipwreck, the boarding of an English
+ship, and the threatened destruction of his own vessel by fire. The
+following year, still as a volunteer, he displayed the greatest
+personal courage and won much fame in an engagement which his ship had
+with five merchant vessels."
+
+"Ah ha," said little Rénee, "this is indeed life. I am having a good
+time."
+
+So well did those higher in command feel towards the youthful sailor,
+that, at the age of eighteen, he was actually put in charge of the
+ship _Danycan_ of fourteen guns,--for France was at war with England,
+Holland, and Spain, and to him who could strike a quick and well-aimed
+blow there were "nice pickings" to be had. And the reckless young
+sea-dog found some "nice pickings" in Ireland, for, he landed an armed
+party upon the coast of County Clare, where he pillaged a village,
+burned two ships at anchor, and escaped to his own vessel with
+considerable booty and family heirlooms of the peasants, who said,
+"Och, Begorra! We'll be afther that wild bhoy before many suns, and
+spank him for his unseemly whork."
+
+But the French cried "Voilà! Here, indeed, is a brave young
+Bourgeois," and promptly raised him to the command of the _Coetquen_
+of eighteen guns, in which he soon went cruising, accompanied by a
+sister-ship, the _St. Aaron_.
+
+Prowling around the English channel, the skulking sea-hounds soon came
+across two small English men-of-war with five valuable merchantmen
+under their sheltering wings.
+
+"All ready for the attack!" shouted Du Guay-Trouin. "We'll make
+mince-meat of those foreign hulks, in spite of the fact that they are
+protected by two men-of-war."
+
+And, crowding on all sail, his own vessel and the _St. Aaron_ quickly
+bore down upon the Englishmen, who, seeing them approach, hove-to for
+action.
+
+The engagement was short. After a few broadsides had been delivered,
+the English struck, the prizes were taken over, and all started for
+the coast of France. But suddenly a cry went up,
+
+"Sail ho! Sail ho! off the starboard bow!"
+
+"Ta Donc," cried the surprised Du Guay-Trouin. "It is a big
+man-of-warsman and a Britisher too. We must give up our prizes, I
+fear. Clap on all canvas and we'll hie us to shore."
+
+So all sail was hoisted, and, steering for the shoals and rocks off
+Lundy Island--where he knew that the heavy Englishman could not
+follow--Du Guay-Trouin soon outdistanced and outwitted the
+_Centurion_: a line-of-battle ship and a formidable opponent. The rich
+prizes had to be left behind.
+
+Honorable appointments crowded upon the daring, young sea-dog, after
+this affair, and we find him successively in command of the _Profond_,
+of thirty-two guns; the _Hercule_, of twenty-eight guns, and the
+_Diligente_ of thirty-six guns and two hundred and fifty sailors,
+which was a King's ship borrowed for privateering and run on
+shares,--the monarch to have a certain part of the winnings.
+
+Like partners in business the _Diligente_ and _Hercule_ now went
+cruising, and it was not long before the two harpies swooped down upon
+their prey in the shape of two Dutch East Indiamen, armed with
+twenty-five guns each, and manned by rotund-bodied Dutchmen. There was
+rich treasure aboard, and, with eagerness and zeal, the Frenchmen
+slapped on all canvas in pursuit.
+
+Now was a hot chase. Mile after mile was passed, and slowly but surely
+the Frenchmen gained upon the lumbering foe. Then suddenly,--
+
+_Crash!_
+
+A ball screamed above the head of Du Guay-Trouin, and a Dutchman
+hove-to for battle.
+
+"Crawl in close," cried the valiant Frenchman, "and don't let go a
+broadside until you can hit 'em below the water line. Try to scuttle
+the Dutch lumber merchant!"
+
+His men obeyed him willingly and soon there was a muffled roar as the
+first broadside spoke in the still air. Another and another followed,
+and the Dutchman trembled like an aspen leaf.
+
+"Hah," shouted the enthusiastic Rénee, "up goes the white flag!"
+
+Sure enough, the vessel struck, and aboard of her was the Dutch
+commodore. But the _Hercule_ was beaten off by the second Dutchman,
+and, as the privateers boarded the captured vessel, the East Indiaman
+showed a clean pair of heels, under a cloud of bellying canvas.
+
+Du Guay-Trouin was delighted. "On we go, Boys," he cried, "for we'll
+sail these waters until we strike another prize." And this is what
+soon happened.
+
+On May the 12th, the _Diligente_ was cruising alone, when, suddenly
+six white dots appeared upon the horizon, and six British
+ships-of-the-line were soon closing in upon the venturous French
+navigator and his crew.
+
+"Ye Gods," cried the doughty Frenchman, "we're in for it now, but we
+will give them a lively bout even though we'll get the worst of it."
+
+And here is how he has described the battle:
+
+"One of the English ships named _Adventure_ first overtook me, and we
+maintained a running fight for nearly four hours, before any other of
+their ships could come up....
+
+"At length my two topmasts were shot away; on which the _Adventure_
+ranged up alongside me, a short pistol-shot off, and hauled up her
+courses. Seeing her so near, it occurred to me to run foul of her and
+board her with my whole crew. Forthwith I ordered such of the officers
+as were near to send the people on deck, got ready the grapnels, and
+put the helm over.
+
+"We were just on the point of hooking on to her, when unfortunately,
+one of my Lieutenants, looking out through a port and seeing the two
+ships so close together, took it into his head that there was some
+mistake, as he could not think that--under the circumstances--I had
+any intention of boarding; and so, of himself, ordered the helm to be
+reversed.
+
+"I had no idea of what had been done, and was impatiently waiting for
+the two ships to clash together, ready to throw myself on board the
+enemy; but seeing that my ship did not obey her helm, I ran to the
+wheel, and found it had been changed without my order.
+
+"I had it again jammed hard on; but perceived, with the keenest
+vexation, that the captain of the _Adventure_, having guessed by the
+expression of my face what I had meant to do, had let fall his
+courses, and was sheering off. We had been so near that my bowsprit
+had broken his taffrail; but the mistake of my Lieutenant made me lose
+the opportunity of one of the most surprising adventures ever heard
+tell of.
+
+"In the determination I was in to perish or to capture this ship,
+which was much the fastest sailor of the squadron, it was more than
+probable that I should have succeeded, and should thus have taken back
+to France a much stronger ship than that which I abandoned. And, not
+to speak of the credit which would have attached to the execution of
+such a plan, it is quite certain that--being dismasted--there was
+absolutely no other way for me to escape from forces so superior."
+
+But closer--always closer--crowded the British war-dogs, and the
+valorous French seamen became panic stricken. "We are outnumbered and
+outfought," cried many, and, deserting their guns, they fled below to
+the holds, in spite of the vigorous protests of Du Guay-Trouin.
+
+"I was busy trying to put a stop to the panic," says he. "I had cut
+down one and pistolled another, when, to crown my misfortune, fire
+broke out in the gun-room. The fear of being blown up made it
+necessary for me to go below; but, having got the fire put out, I had
+a tub full of grenades brought me, and began throwing them down into
+the hold.
+
+"By this means I compelled the deserters to come up and to man some of
+the lower deck guns; but, when I went up on the poop, I found, to my
+astonishment and vexation, that some cowardly rascal had taken
+advantage of my absence to haul down the colors.
+
+"I ordered them to be hoisted again; but my officers represented that
+to do so would be simply giving up the remnant of my ship's company to
+be butchered by the English, who would give no quarter if the flag
+were hoisted again, after being struck for so long, and that further
+resistance was hopeless as the ship was dismasted."
+
+"Never give in, for"--cried Du Guay-Trouin, whose democratic blood was
+now up, but he did not finish the sentence as a spent shot then
+knocked him senseless. And--as he fell--the white flag went aloft, for
+his officers had not his fighting spirit.
+
+"Ah ha," laughed the English jack-tars. "We've got the French rascal
+at last, and we'll hold him too."
+
+So little Rénee was imprisoned in a nice, dark dungeon,--the kind
+which the English used to put their poor debtors in. But--like a true
+man of courage--little Rénee escaped, took to a smuggler's skiff, and
+made off to the coast of France, where he arrived on the 18th of June,
+1694, and was received right boisterously by the Trouin family.
+
+"My son," spoke his aged mother, "you were indeed not intended for the
+law, for lawlessness seems to be your particular fancy."
+
+So the delighted Trouins put him in charge of a splendid privateersman
+mounting forty-eight guns, sailing under the simple name of
+_Francois_, and, as she forged valiantly into the English channel, her
+skipper chanted an old French song, which ran,--
+
+    "Sons of St. Malo, hark to my lay,
+    With a Heave! Ho! Blow the man down.
+    For we'll capture a lugger ere close of the day,
+    With a Heave! Ho! Blow the man down.
+
+    "She's filled with gold nuggets, her crew is asleep,
+    Then board her, and take her, for dead men are cheap,
+    We'll spike them and pike them, like so many sheep.
+    With a Heave! Ho! Blow the man down."
+
+It was not long before a sail was sighted, and, on the 12th day of
+January, 1695, the stout, little _Francois_ overhauled a solitary
+timber ship, loaded with huge trees, bound to England from the good
+town of Boston in New England. She was an easy capture, and, Du
+Guay-Trouin smiled with joy when her skipper said:
+
+"Three other lumber ships are in the offing. But they are under convoy
+of the frigate _Nonsuch_ with forty-eight guns, and the _Falcon_ with
+thirty-eight cannon. Look out my bold sea-dog, there'll be trouble."
+
+But the French mariner laughed.
+
+"It's just what I'm searching for," said he, and forthwith he swung
+the stout _Francois_ in wide circles, with look-outs at every
+mast-head.
+
+"Sail ho!" shouted the watch, next morn, and there, off the port bow,
+were the three merchantmen strung out in a line, with the two
+protecting gun-boats to windward.
+
+Like a greyhound the _Francois_ swept down upon them, and with the
+audacity of despair, the privateersman of St. Malo ranged alongside of
+the _Falcon_ and opened fire. The engagement was short. In an hour's
+time the guns of the Englishman were silent and a white pennon
+fluttered from the mizzen-mast.
+
+The _Nonsuch_, meanwhile, had been ranging to windward in a vain
+endeavor to bring her guns to bear upon the Frenchman without
+crippling her own mate, and--as the _Francois_ drifted away from the
+lurching _Falcon_--she bore down to within twenty yards, luffed, and
+spanked a rakish broadside into the privateer.
+
+"Board her!" shouted Du Guay-Trouin. "Board her!" and, bringing the
+wheel close around, he swung the bow of the _Francois_ into the side
+of the Englishman. But, as the sailors scampered to the bulwarks with
+cutlass and with dirk, a sheet of flame burst from the port-holes of
+the drifting _Nonsuch_. She was afire.
+
+"Luff! Luff!" cried the keen-eyed French mariner, and the _Francois_
+drew away as the red flames curled upward with a cruel hiss.
+
+With a swift turn the helm again spun over, under the quick hand of Du
+Guay-Trouin, and the _Francois_ was jibed about in order to run under
+the port bow of the Englishman.
+
+"Hold, Captain!" cried a French Lieutenant. "We, ourselves, are
+afire!"
+
+As he spoke--a direful cloud of vapor rolled from the starboard
+quarter.
+
+"Alack!" answered the now furious Rénee. "This puts an end to the
+fighting of this day, and we'd soon have had the second Britisher. All
+hands below and bucket out this fire!"
+
+So, as night fell upon the rolling ocean, the _Falcon_ lay drifting
+helplessly, while the _Nonsuch_ and the _Francois_ were burning like
+two beacons upon a jutting headland.
+
+As day broke, the _Francois_ filled away (for the fire had been
+extinguished after an hour's toil) and ranged within striking distance
+of the _Nonsuch_. A broadside belched from her starboard guns and an
+answering roar came back from the cannon of the Englishman. The fore
+and main masts of the _Nonsuch_ trembled for a moment--then tottered
+and fell--while the gallant Captain, struck in the chest by a flying
+piece of shell, fell dying upon the deck. Du Guay-Trouin again
+attempted to board, at this moment, but the third mast was shaking and
+he was forced to sheer off lest the tangle of yards and rigging should
+fall and crush his vessel. He hung within hailing distance of the
+crippled sea-warrior, and, seeing that his antagonist was now
+helpless, cried out through his trumpet:
+
+"Run up the white flag, or I'll give you a broadside that will sink
+you."
+
+No answering hail came from the deck of the battered _Nonsuch_, but
+the piece of a torn, white shirt was soon fluttering from the tangled
+rigging of the foremast. Thus the gallant Rénee had defeated two
+warships of equal strength, and had captured vessels with a rich and
+valuable cargo. Now, don't you think that this fellow was a doughty
+sea rover? And, although the English made many excuses, the fact still
+remains that a single privateer had conquered double her own force in
+a fair and open fight upon the high seas.
+
+The sturdy _Francois_ could just barely drift into St. Malo--so badly
+crippled was she--but the rest came safely to port, in spite of a
+hard gale which blew down the masts of two of the lumber boats. And
+doughty Rénee refitted the _Nonsuch_, transferred his flag to her,
+called her the _Sans-Pareil_, and flung his flag defiantly from her
+mast-head in spite of the fact that she was "made in England." All
+France was agog over his exploit.
+
+Now, know you, that doughty Rénee was a "Blue;" a "Blue" being a man
+of the people (the bourgeoisie) who were not of aristocratic birth.
+And, as the French Royal Marine was the most exclusive body of
+officers in the world, birth and station being necessary for
+admittance therein, the titled office-holders threw up their hands
+when Du Guay-Trouin's name was mentioned for a place of command,
+saying,--
+
+"Why, he's only a beastly Democrat. Pooh! Bah! We do not care to have
+such a fellow among us." And they shrugged their shoulders.
+
+The officers of the French Royal Marine wore red breeches, and, if by
+chance a democrat were given a commission, he had to appear in blue
+small-clothes throughout his entire career. Very few of the "Blues"
+ever came to be an Admiral, for the odds were too great against them.
+
+But Rénee had done so bravely and well that a sword was sent him by
+the King, who wrote,--
+
+"Should you wish a commission in the Royal Navy, good sir, it shall be
+yours."
+
+And to this, Du Guay-Trouin replied,--
+
+"I feel that I can do better where I am, Most Gracious Majesty. I
+will remain a Privateer." For Du Guay-Trouin wished to accumulate
+riches, as his forebears had done.
+
+So, cruising down the coast of Ireland, he fell in with three East
+Indiamen, whom he captured with ease, and, piloting them to St. Malo,
+declared a dividend of two thousand pounds ($10,000) a share, to the
+stockholders in his staunch vessel. And the value of the shares was
+but one hundred pounds ($500) each. Would not the men of Wall Street
+love such a fellow in these piping times of peace?
+
+A month later we find him cruising in the Bay of Biscay, where--in the
+dead of night--he ran into a great English fleet, roving about for just
+such vessels as the _Sans-Pareil_ and eager for a broadside at the
+French privateer. But young Rénee--for he was now twenty-three--had not
+lost his nerve. "There was no time," he wrote, "for hesitation. I had
+two valuable prizes with me and ordered them to hoist Dutch colors and
+to run away to leeward, saluting me with seven guns each as they went.
+
+"Trusting to the goodness and soundness of the _Sans-Pareil_ I stood
+towards the fleet, as boldly and as peaceably as if I had really been
+one of their number, rejoining them after having spoken the Dutchmen.
+Two capital ships and a thirty-six gun frigate had at first left the
+fleet to overhaul me; but, on seeing what I was doing, the ships
+returned to their stations; the frigate--impelled by her unlucky
+fate--persisted in endeavoring to speak the two prizes, and I saw that
+she was rapidly coming up with them.
+
+"I had by this time joined the fleet, tranquil enough in appearance,
+though inwardly I was fuming at the prospect of my two prizes being
+taken by the frigate; and, as I perceived that my ship sailed much
+better than those of the enemy who were near me, I kept away little by
+little, at the same time forereaching on them. Suddenly, bearing up, I
+ran down to place myself between the prizes and the frigate.
+
+"I should have liked to lay aboard of her and carry her in sight of
+the whole fleet; but her captain, being suspicious, would not let me
+get within musket-shot of him, and sent his boat to help me. But, when
+the boat was half way, her people made out that we were French, and
+turned to go back; on which, seeing that we were discovered, I hoisted
+my white flag and poured my broadside into the frigate.
+
+"She answered with hers; but, not being able to sustain my fire, she
+hauled her wind, and with a signal of distress flying, stood to meet
+the captain's ship, which hastily ran down towards us. As they stopped
+to render her assistance, and to pick up her boat, I was able to
+rejoin my prizes, and, without misadventure, to take them to Port
+Louis."
+
+Again France rang with acclaim for the hero of this bold exploit, and
+again the King offered a commission to the gallant sea-dog. But Du
+Guay-Trouin shook his head.
+
+"Perhaps I will become an officer in the Royal Marine later on," said
+he. "But not now. I am too happy and successful as a Privateer."
+
+He was quite right, for in March, 1697, was his greatest exploit.
+
+While busily scanning the horizon for sail in the _St. Jacques des
+Victoires_, upon the thirteenth day of that auspicious month, he saw
+upon the horizon, a cluster of vessels. They drew near and proved to
+be the Dutch East India fleet convoyed by two fifty-gun ships and a
+thirty-gun sloop-of-war. With him was the _Sans-Pareil_ of forty-eight
+guns, and the little sloop-of-war _Lenore_, mounting fourteen. The
+hostile squadron was formidable, and Du Guay-Trouin hesitated to
+attack.
+
+In command of the Dutch vessels was Baron van Wassenaer, one of a
+family of famous sea-fighters from Holland, and he manoeuvred his
+ships with consummate skill; always interposing his own vessel between
+the French privateer and his fleet of merchantmen.
+
+"Ah-ha," cried gallant Rénee, at this moment. "Here come some of my
+own boys."
+
+And--sure enough--from the direction of France, and boiling along
+under full canvas, rolled two privateersmen of St. Malo. Cheer after
+cheer went up from the deck of the _St. Jacques des Victoires_, as
+they pounded through the spray, for this made the contending parties
+about equal, although the Dutch boats were larger, heavier, and they
+had more guns aboard.
+
+The Dutchmen now formed in line. In front was the flagship--the
+_Delft_--with her fifty guns glowering ominously from the port-holes;
+second was the thirty-gun frigate; and third, the other war-hound of
+fifty guns: the _Hondslaardjiik_. Through a trumpet Du Guay-Trouin
+shrilled his orders.
+
+"The _Sans-Pareil_ will attack the _Hondslaardjiik_," cried he. "The
+two privateers will hammer the frigate, while I and the _St. Jacques
+des Victoires_ will attend to the _Delft_. The _Lenore_ will sail in
+among the convoy. Fight, and fight to win!"
+
+A fine breeze rippled the waves. The two squadrons were soon at each
+others' throats, and there upon the sobbing ocean a sea-fight took
+place which was one of the most stubborn of the ages.
+
+As the Frenchmen closed in upon the Dutch, the _Hondslaardjiik_
+suddenly left the line and crashed a broadside into the _St. Jacques
+des Victoires_. It staggered her, but she kept on, and--heading
+straight for her lumbering antagonist--ran her down. A splitting of
+timber, a crunch of boards, a growl of musketry, and, with a wild
+cheer, the Frenchmen leaped upon the deck of the Dutch warship; Du
+Guay-Trouin in the lead, a cutlass in his right hand, a spitting
+pistol in the left.
+
+_Crash! Crackle! Crash!_ An irregular fire of muskets and pistols
+sputtered at the on-coming boarders. But they were not to be stopped.
+With fierce, vindictive cheers the privateers of St. Malo hewed a
+passage of blood across the decking, driving the Dutchmen below,
+felling them upon the deck in windrows, and seizing the commander
+himself by the coat collar, after his cutlass had been knocked from
+his stalwart hand. The Dutchman was soon a prize, and her proud ensign
+came fluttering to the decking.
+
+But things were not going so well in other quarters. Disaster had
+attended the dash of the _Sans-Pareil_ upon the _Delft_. An exploding
+shell had set her afire and she lay derelict with a cloud of drifting
+smoke above, when suddenly, _Crash!_
+
+A terrible explosion shook the staunch, little vessel, her sides
+belched outward, and a number of sailors came shooting through the
+air, for a dozen loose cartridge boxes had been caught by the roaring
+flames. Helplessly she lolled in the sweep of the gray, lurching
+billows.
+
+"Hah!" shouted Van Wassenaer, as he saw his work. "Now for the saucy
+Du Guay-Trouin," and, twisting the helm of the _Sans-Pareil_, he soon
+neared the _St. Jacques des Victoires_, which was hanging to the
+_Delft_ like a leech, firing broadside after broadside with clock-like
+precision, her sea-dogs cheering as the spars crackled, the rigging
+tore; and splinters ricochetted from her sides.
+
+"Ready about!" cried Rénee, wiping the sweat from his brow, "and board
+the _Hondslaardjiik_. Now for Van Wassenaer and let us show the
+Dutchman how a privateer from St. Malo can battle."
+
+So, luffing around in the steady breeze, the privateersman rolled
+ominously towards the lolling _Delft_. A crash, a sputter of pistols,
+a crushing of timber, and grappling hooks had pinioned the two
+war-dogs in a sinister embrace. And--with a wild yell--the Frenchmen
+plunged upon the reddened decking of the flagship of the courageous
+Van Wassenaer, who cried, "Never give in, Lads! What will they think
+of this in Holland!"
+
+There was a different reception than when the privateers rushed the
+_Hondslaardjiik_. The Dutch fought like wildcats. Three times the
+cheering, bleeding Frenchmen stormed the planking, and three times
+they were hurled back upon the slippery deck of their own ship;
+maddened, cursing, furious at their inability to take the foreigner.
+"The conflict was very bloody both by the very heavy fire on both
+sides, of guns, muskets, and grenades," says Du Guay-Trouin, "and by
+the splendid courage of the Baron Van Wassenaer, who received me with
+astonishing boldness."
+
+"Bear away," ordered the courageous Dutchman, at this juncture. "We
+must have time to recover and refit our ship."
+
+And--suiting the action to his words--the badly battered _Delft_
+filled, and crept well to leeward.
+
+Meanwhile the two privateers of St. Malo had captured the frigate as
+she lay helpless; a white flag beckoning for a prize crew.
+
+"The _Faluere_ will attack the _Delft_," shouted Du Guay-Trouin,
+running near the largest of these; a ship of thirty-eight guns. "I
+must have time to breathe and to refit."
+
+But stubborn Van Wassenaer was ready for his new antagonist. He
+received the privateer with such a furious fire that she turned tail
+and fled to leeward; her captain bleeding upon the poop, her crew
+cursing the blood which ran in the veins of the valorous Hollander.
+
+[Illustration: COMBAT BETWEEN DU GUAY-TROUIN AND VAN WASSENAER.]
+
+Du Guay-Trouin had now recovered his breath. Again the bellying canvas
+of the _St. Jacques des Victoires_ bore her down upon the _Delft_, and
+again the two war-dogs wrapped in deadly embrace. Hear the invincible
+Frenchman's own account of the final assault:
+
+"With head down," he writes, "I rushed against the redoubtable Baron,
+resolved to conquer or to perish. The last action was so sharp and so
+bloody that every one of the Dutch officers was killed or wounded.
+Wassenaer, himself, received four dangerous wounds and fell on his
+quarterdeck, where he was seized by my own brave fellows, his sword
+still in his hand.
+
+"The _Faluere_ had her share in the engagement, running alongside of
+me, and sending me forty men on board for reinforcement. More than
+half of my own crew perished in this action. I lost in it one of my
+cousins, first Lieutenant of my own ship, and two other kinsmen on
+board the _Sans-Pareil_, with many other officers killed or wounded.
+It was an awful butchery."
+
+But at last he had won, and the victorious pennon of the Privateer
+fluttered triumphant over the battered hulks which barely floated upon
+the spar-strewn water.
+
+"The horrors of the night," he writes, "the dead and dying below, the
+ship scarcely floating, the swelling waves threatening each moment to
+engulf her, the wild howling of the storm, and the iron-bound coast
+of Bretagne to leeward, were all together such as to try severely the
+courage of the few remaining officers and men.
+
+"At daybreak, however, the wind went down; we found ourselves near the
+Breton coast; and, upon our firing guns and making signals of
+distress, a number of boats came to our assistance. In this manner was
+the _St. Jacques_ taken into Port Louis, followed in the course of the
+day by the three Dutch ships-of-war, twelve of the merchant ships, the
+_Lenore_, and the two St. Malo privateers. The _Sans-Pareil_ did not
+get in till the next day, after having been twenty times upon the
+point of perishing by fire and tempest."
+
+Thus ended the great fight of Rénee Du Guay-Trouin, whose blood, you
+see, was quite as blue as his breeches.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"Again," wrote His Majesty the King, "do I offer you a commission in
+the Royal Navy, Du Guay-Trouin. Will you accept? This time it is a
+Captaincy."
+
+"I do," replied little Rénee,--quite simply--and, at the next dinner
+of the officers of the Royal Marines, they sang a chorus, which ran:
+
+    "Oh, yes, he's only a Democrat, his blood is hardly blue,
+    Oh, Sacre Nom de Dieu! Sapristi! Eet is true!
+    But he's a jolly tar dog, with dirk and pistol, too,
+    He fights like William the Conqueror, he fights!
+    Egad! that's true!
+    A health to Rénee the terrible; soldier and sailor too."
+
+
+
+
+EDWARD ENGLAND
+
+TERROR OF THE SOUTH SEAS
+
+(1690?-_about_ 1725)
+
+
+    "A Privateer's not a Buccaneer, but they're pretty chummy friends,
+    One flies a reg'lar ensign, there's nothing that offends.
+    One sails 'neath Letters Legal, t'other 'neath Cross-Bones,
+    But, both will sink you, Sailor, or my name's not Davy Jones."
+
+                    --_Old Ballad._
+
+
+EDWARD ENGLAND
+
+TERROR OF THE SOUTH SEAS
+
+(1690?-_about_ 1725)
+
+    "If England wuz but wind an' paint,
+    How we'd hate him.
+      But he ain't."
+
+                    --_Log of the Royal James._
+
+
+"Hit him with a bottle, he deserves it, th' brute!"
+
+The man who spoke was a thick-set sailor of some forty-five summers,
+with a swarthy skin, a brownish mat of hair, a hard visage, and a cut
+across one eye. He stood upon the deck of a good-sized brig, which was
+drowsily lolling along the coast of Africa.
+
+"Yes, he treated us like dogs aboard th' _Cuttlefish_. Here, give me a
+shot at 'im."
+
+Thus cried another sailor--a toughish customer also--and, as his voice
+rang out, a dozen more came running to the spot.
+
+Cringing before the evil gaze of the seamen stood the Captain of a
+Bristol merchantman--the _Cadogan_--which lay a boat's length away,
+upon the glassy surface of a rocking sea.
+
+Again rang out the harsh tones of him who had first spoken.
+
+"Ah, Captain Skinner, it is you, eh? You are the very person I wished
+to see. I am much in your debt, and I shall pay you in your own coin."
+
+The poor Captain trembled in every joint, and said, with a curious
+chattering of his teeth,
+
+"Yes, Edward England, you've got me now. But go easy like, will yer? I
+always was a friend o' yourn."
+
+"Yer didn't look like a friend on th' old _Jamaica_, when you refused
+to pay me my wages," interrupted the first speaker. "Yer didn't remove
+me to 'er cursed man-o'-warsman, did yer? Yer didn't see that I got
+th' cat-o'-nine-tails on my back, did yer? Now, Mr. Skinner, it's my
+chance ter get even. Tie him ter th' windlass, boys, and we'll fix th'
+feller's hash."
+
+With a jeering laugh the sailors seized the frightened man, roped him
+tightly to the desired prop, and, procuring a lot of glass bottles,
+pelted him with them until their arms were tired.
+
+"You wuz a good master to me, Captain Skinner," cried one. "Now you're
+gettin' a dose of your own medicine. Overboard with him, Boys."
+
+And, suiting the action to the words, he seized him by the collar. The
+ropes were unwound. The poor wretch was dragged to the rail, and, as
+his body spun out into the oily sea, a shot ended the life of poor
+Thomas Skinner of the _Cadogan_ from Bristol. Captain Edward England
+and his men had had a sweet and sure revenge.
+
+Where this reckless mariner was born, it is difficult to ascertain.
+We know that he started life honestly enough, for he was mate of a
+sloop that sailed from Jamaica, about the year 1715, and was taken by
+a pirate called Captain Winter. The youthful sailor soon took up the
+careless ways of his captors, and it was not many years before he
+became Captain of his own vessel: a sloop flying the black flag with a
+skull and cross-bones.
+
+Off the east coast of Africa he soon took a ship called the _Pearl_,
+for which he exchanged his own sloop, fitting the new vessel up for
+piratical service, after rechristening her the _Royal James_. Cruising
+about in this staunch craft, he captured several ships of different
+sizes and flying the flags of many nations. He was rich and
+prosperous.
+
+"Captain," said one of his reckless followers, at this time,
+"man-o'-warsmen are gettin' too thick in these parts for an honest
+sailor. Let's get across th' pond to th' Brazilian coast."
+
+"You're quite right," answered England. "We've got to look for other
+pickings. After we provision-up, we'll sail towards th' setting sun.
+That's a fresh field and we can have it to ourselves."
+
+So all made ready for a trans-Atlantic voyage.
+
+But Captain England was in error when he said that he was sailing for
+fields which had never before been touched. Two other piratical
+vessels: the _Revenge_ and the _Flying King_, had been cruising off
+the coast of Brazil, just before his advent. Fighting in partnership,
+they had taken two Portuguese schooners, and were making off with
+them, when a Portuguese man-o'-warsman came booming along under full
+canvas. She was an unwelcome guest.
+
+Setting all sail the two pirates had attempted to get away and the
+_Revenge_ succeeded in doing so. Two days later a typhoon struck her
+and she was soon swinging bottom upwards, with the kittiwakes
+shrieking over her barnacled keel.
+
+But the revengeful man-o'-warsman ploughed relentlessly after the
+_Flying King_, which could not fly quite fast enough, this time,
+and--in despair--was run, bows on, upon the shore, where the crew
+scrambled to the sand in a desperate endeavor to get away. The sailors
+from the man-o'-warsman were speedy; they shot twelve of the
+buccaneers, took the rest prisoners (there were seventy in all) and
+hanged thirty-eight to the yard-arm. News of this came to Captain
+England when he neared the tropic coast of Brazil.
+
+"It's all in a life-time," said he. "If I'm captured, of course I'll
+swing. But, meanwhile, I hope to have a good life."
+
+Not many days afterwards he heard the welcome sound of:
+
+"Sail ho! Off the port bow!"
+
+And raising the glass to his eye discovered two fat,
+prosperous-looking merchant ships, slipping quietly along like an old
+maid fresh from market.
+
+"Slap on all sail and give chase!" was bellowed out in stentorian
+tones, and the _Royal James_ was soon fairly boiling along with every
+stitch aloft, which she could carry.
+
+As she neared the merchantmen, the names came plainly to view: the
+_Peterborough_ of Bristol, and the _Victory_ of Liverpool, but a shot
+screamed across the bowsprit of the latter and victory was turned into
+defeat. A white flag was fluttering at her mainmast in a moment, for
+the Captain had no stomach for a fight.
+
+"Egad, it's a pirate," said the good seaman in despair, as the black
+flag with the skull and cross-bones fluttered from the rigging of his
+capturer. "I thought she was a privateersman under Letters of Marque.
+It's all up with us."
+
+As the boat-load of boarders came bobbing alongside he cried out,
+
+"Mercy! Have mercy upon the souls of these poor wretches who sail with
+me."
+
+The pirates guffawed, helped themselves to everything of value, and
+took the merchantmen with them to the coast of Brazil, where the crew
+were allowed to escape to the shore. The _Peterborough_ was
+re-christened the _Victory_ and was manned by half of England's crew,
+while the other vessel was burned at night; the pirates dancing on the
+beach to the light of the flames and singing the weird songs of the
+sea.
+
+Now there was a scene of wild revel upon the Brazilian coast; but the
+natives grew angry at the conduct of these rough men of the ocean.
+
+"Ugh!" spoke a chief, "we must drive them away, else they will burn
+our own villages as they did their houses upon the water."
+
+One peaceful evening the followers of Captain England were hard beset
+by fully a thousand black-skinned warriors from the Brazilian jungle.
+
+There was a fierce battle. The negroes were pressed back upon their
+principal town and were driven through it on the run, for their arrows
+and spears were not as effective as the guns and pistols of the
+English, Dutch, Spaniards and Portuguese, who had adopted a piratical
+career. Their thatched huts were set on fire, and, satisfied with the
+day's work, the pirates retired to their ships, where a vote was cast
+where was to be their next venture. It fell to the East Indies and the
+Island of Madagascar. So they set sail, singing an old ballad which
+ran,
+
+    "Heave the lead and splice th' topsail,
+    Tie her down, and let her fill,
+    We're agoin' to Madagascar,
+    Where th' little tom-tits trill,
+
+    "Bill an' coo, an' sing so sweetly,
+    In th' dronin' hours of noon,
+    That you want to die there, neatly,
+    Just drop off into 'er swoon."
+
+The voyage across was a good one and the pirates captured two East
+Indiamen and a Dutchman, bound to Bombay. These they exchanged for one
+of their own vessels, and then set out for Madagascar Island, where
+several of their hands were set ashore with tents and ammunition, to
+kill such beasts and venison as the place afforded.
+
+Then they sailed for the Isle of Juanna,--not a great distance from
+Madagascar,--and here had as keen a little engagement as ever
+employed a piratical crew. Hear the story of this fight in the words
+of Captain Mackra, an English sea-captain who happened at that time to
+be in the harbor.
+
+                               "BOMBAY, November 16th, 1720.
+
+    "We arrived on the 25th of July last, in company with
+    the _Greenwich_, at Juanna, an island not far from
+    Madagascar. Putting in there to refresh our men, we
+    found fourteen pirates who came in their canoes from the
+    Mayotta (island) where the pirate ship to which they
+    belonged, the _Indian Queen_--two hundred and fifty
+    tons, twenty-eight guns, commanded by Captain Oliver de
+    la Bouche, bound from the Guinea coast to the East
+    Indies--had been bulged (run ashore) and lost. They said
+    they left the Captain and forty men building a new
+    vessel, to proceed upon their wicked designs.
+
+    "Captain Kirby and I concluding that it might be of
+    great service to the East India Company to destroy such
+    a nest of rogues, were ready to sail for this purpose on
+    the 17th of August, about eight o'clock in the morning,
+    when we discovered two pirates standing into the Bay of
+    Juanna, one of thirty-four and the other of thirty-six
+    guns.
+
+    "I immediately went on board the _Greenwich_ where they
+    seemed very diligent in preparation for an engagement,
+    and I left Captain Kirby with mutual understanding of
+    standing by each other. I then unmoored, got under sail,
+    and brought two boats ahead to row me close to the
+    _Greenwich_; but he being open to a breeze, made the
+    best of his way from me; which an Ostender in our
+    company of twenty-two guns, seeing, did the same, though
+    the Captain had promised heartily to engage with us,
+    and, I believe would have been as good as his word, if
+    Captain Kirby had kept his.
+
+    "About half an hour after twelve, I called several times
+    to the _Greenwich_ to bear down to our assistance, and
+    fired a shot at him, but to no purpose; for, though we
+    did not doubt but he would join us, because, when he got
+    about a league from us he brought his ship to and looked
+    on; yet both he and the Ostender basely deserted us, and
+    left us engaged with barbarous and inhuman enemies, with
+    their black and bloody flags hanging over us, without
+    the least appearance of ever escaping, but to be cut to
+    pieces.
+
+    "But God in his good providence, determined otherwise;
+    for, notwithstanding their superiority, we engaged them
+    both about three hours, during which time the biggest of
+    them received some shot betwixt wind and water, which
+    made her keep a little off, to stop her leaks. The other
+    endeavored all she could to board us, by rowing with her
+    oars, being within half a ship's length of us about an
+    hour; but, by good fortune, we shot all her oars to
+    pieces, which prevented them from getting in close, and
+    consequently saved our lives.
+
+[Illustration: "'LEFT US ENGAGED WITH BARBAROUS AND INHUMAN ENEMIES.'"]
+
+    "About four o'clock most of the officers and men posted
+    on the quarter-deck being killed and wounded, the
+    largest ship made up to us with diligence, after giving
+    us a broadside. There now being no hopes of Captain
+    Kirby's coming to our assistance, we endeavored to run
+    ashore; and though we drew four feet of water more than
+    the pirate, it pleased God that he stuck fast on a
+    higher ground than happily we fell in with; so was
+    disappointed a second time from boarding us.
+
+    "Here we had a more violent engagement than before. All
+    of my officers and most of my men behaved with
+    unexpected courage; and, as we had a considerable
+    advantage by having a chance to hurl a broadside into
+    his bow, we did him great damage. Had Captain Kirby come
+    in then, I believe we should have taken both the
+    vessels, for we had one of them, sure.
+
+    "The other pirate (who was still firing at us) seeing
+    the _Greenwich_ did not offer to assist us, supplied his
+    consort with three boats full of fresh men. About five
+    in the evening the _Greenwich_ stood clear away to sea,
+    leaving us struggling hard for life, in the very jaws of
+    death; which the other pirate that was afloat, seeing,
+    got a hawser out, and began to haul under our stern.
+
+    "By this time many of my men were being killed and
+    wounded, and no hopes left us of escaping being all
+    murdered by enraged barbarous conquerors, I ordered all
+    that could to get into the long-boat, under the cover of
+    the smoke from our guns; so that, with what some did in
+    boats, and others by swimming, most of us that were able
+    got ashore by seven o'clock.
+
+    "When the pirates came aboard, they cut three of our
+    wounded men to pieces. I, with some of my people, made
+    what haste I could to Kings-town, twenty-five miles from
+    us; where I arrived next day, almost dead with the
+    fatigue and loss of blood, having been sorely wounded in
+    the head by a musket-ball.
+
+    "At this town I heard that the pirates had offered ten
+    thousand dollars to the country people to bring me in,
+    which many of them would have accepted, only they knew
+    that the king and all his chief people were in my
+    interest. Meanwhile I caused a report to be circulated
+    that I was dead of my wounds, which much abated their
+    fury.
+
+    "We had, in all, thirteen killed and twenty-four
+    wounded; and we were told that we destroyed about
+    ninety, or a hundred, of the pirates. I am persuaded
+    that, had our consort the _Greenwich_ done her duty, we
+    could have destroyed both of them, and got two hundred
+    thousand pounds ($1,000,000.00) for our owners and
+    ourselves."
+
+What say you to this fight? And to think that our own good friend
+Captain Mackra just missed being a millionaire! Weep for the gallant
+sea warrior!
+
+At any rate he got safely away, for, at length going aboard one of the
+piratical vessels,--under a flag of truce--he discovered that several
+of the wild sea-robbers knew him; some of them--even--had sailed with
+him in earlier years.
+
+"I found this to be of great advantage," he writes. "For,
+notwithstanding their promise not to harm me, some of them would have
+cut me to pieces, had it not been for their chief, Captain Edward
+England, and some others whom I knew."
+
+And he used his powers of persuasion to such effect that: "They made
+me a present of the shattered ship--which was Dutch built--called the
+_Fancy_, her burden being about three hundred tons.
+
+"With jury-masts, and such other old sails as they left me, I set sail
+on September 8th, with forty-three of my ship's crew, including two
+passengers and twelve soldiers. After a passage of forty-eight days I
+arrived at Bombay on the 26th of October, almost naked and starved,
+having been reduced to a pint of water a day, and almost in despair of
+ever seeing land, by reason of the calms we met with between the coast
+of Arabia and Malabar."
+
+The gallant writer of this interesting description was certainly in
+imminent danger of his life, when he trusted himself upon the pirate
+ship, and unquestionably nothing could have justified such a hazardous
+step but the desperate circumstances in which he was placed. The honor
+and influence of Captain England, however, protected him and his men
+from the wrath of the crew, who would willingly have wreaked their
+vengeance upon those who had dealt them such heavy blows in the recent
+fight.
+
+But the generosity of Captain England toward the unfortunate Mackra
+proved to be calamitous to himself.
+
+"You are no true pirate," cried one of his crew. "For a buccaneer
+never allows his foes to get away."
+
+"No! No!" shouted others. "This fighting Mackra will soon come
+against us with a strong force. You did wrong in letting him escape."
+
+"To the yard-arm with the traitor!" sounded from the throat of many a
+ruffianly seaman.
+
+Thus grew the feeling of mutiny--and the result of these murmurs of
+discontent--was that Captain England was put ashore by the cruel
+villains; and, with three others was marooned upon the island of
+Mauritius. Had they not been destitute of every necessity they might
+have been able to live in comfort, for the island abounds in deer,
+hogs, and other animals. Dissatisfied, however, with this solitary
+situation, Captain England and his three men exerted their industry
+and ingenuity, built a small boat, and sailed to Madagascar, where
+they lived upon the generosity of some more fortunate piratical
+companions.
+
+But can a pirate remain happy when not pirating?
+
+"Away with this life," cried Captain England. "I pine for more
+treasure and for battle. Let's out and to sea!"
+
+"Good! Good!" said his mates. "Let's ship aboard another vessel and
+get away from here."
+
+So, they again took to the ocean, but what became of Edward England is
+not known.
+
+Some say that he was killed in a brawl; some that he was again
+marooned and was adopted by a savage tribe; some that he perished in a
+fight upon the Indian Ocean. At any rate that rough and valiant soul
+is lost to history, and--somewhere--in the vast solitude of the
+Southern Hemisphere, lie the bleaching bones of him who had flaunted
+the skull-and-cross-bones upon the wide highway of the gleaming
+wastes of salty brine. His was a rough and careless life. Do not
+emulate the career of Edward England!
+
+
+    Near the straits of Madagascar; near the sobbing oceans' roar,
+    A ghostly shape glides nightly, by the beady, kelp-strewn shore.--
+    As the Cubic monkeys chatter; as the Bulbul lizards hiss,
+    Comes a clear and quiet murmur, like a Zulu lover's kiss.
+    The flying-fishes scatter; the chattering magpies scream,
+    The topaz hummers dart and dip; their jewelled feathers gleam.
+    The mud-grimed hippos bellow; the dove-eyed elands bleat,
+    When the clank of steel disturbs them, and the beat of sandalled feet.
+    The pirate crew is out to-night, no rest is for their souls,
+    The blood of martyrs moves them; they charge a million tolls.
+    On! On! Their souls must hasten. On! On! Their shapes must go,
+    While the limpid rushes quiver, and the beast-lapped waters glow.
+    No rest for Captain England. No rest, for King or pawn,
+    On! On! Their feet must wander. On! On! Forever on!
+
+
+
+
+SONG OF THE PIRATE
+
+
+    "To the mast nail our flag! it is dark as the grave,
+    Or the death which it bears while it sweeps o'er the wave;
+    Let our decks clear for action, our guns be prepared;
+    Be the boarding-axe sharpened, the scimetar bared:
+    Set the canisters ready, and then bring to me,
+    For the last of my duties, the powder-room key.
+    It shall never be lowered, the black flag we bear,
+    If the sea be denied us, we sweep through the air.
+    Unshared have we left our last victory's prey;
+    It is mine to divide it, and yours to obey:
+    There are shawls that might suit a Sultana's white neck,
+    And pearls that are fair as the arms they will deck;
+    There are flasks which, unseal them, the air will disclose
+    Diametta's fair summers, the home of the rose.
+    I claim not a portion: I ask but as mine--
+    But to drink to our victory--one cup of red wine.
+    Some fight, 'tis for riches--some fight, 'tis for fame:
+    The first I despise, and the last is a name.
+    I fight 'tis for vengeance! I love to see flow,
+    At the stroke of my sabre, the life of my foe.
+    I strike for the memory of long-vanished years;
+    I only shed blood where another sheds tears,
+    I come, as the lightning comes red from above,
+    O'er the race that I loathe, to the battle I love."
+
+
+
+
+WOODES ROGERS
+
+THE BRISTOL MARINER
+
+(?-1736)
+
+
+    "If you want to win a lass, or a sea fight; don't
+    cajole. Sail in!"--_Old Proverb._
+
+
+WOODES ROGERS
+
+THE BRISTOL MARINER
+
+(?-1736)
+
+    For he can fight a Spaniard, like a Tipperary cat,
+    For he can sack a city, like a _blawsted_, rangy rat;
+    Woodes Rogers was a Gentleman, from Bristol-town he sailed,
+    An' his crew came from th' prisons, an' were
+                                                Bailed,
+                                                    Bailed,
+                                                        Bailed.
+
+
+"Yes, you can have the _Duke_ and the _Duchess_. They are both staunch
+craft and we expect to get a good return for our investment in them."
+
+The fellow who spoke--a stout-bodied Quaker--looked quizzically at a
+bronzed sea-captain, who, cap in hand, stood before him. By his side
+were seated a number of merchants, fat, sleek, contented-looking. They
+were giving instructions to Captain Woodes Rogers: their
+privateersman, who was about to make a voyage of adventure in their
+behalf.
+
+"My good friends," said the mariner, "I shall do my very best for you
+all. The French and Spaniards have been having it all their own way in
+the South seas. It is about time that the English had a share in the
+rich spoils of that treasure highway. I shall work my hardest for
+you."
+
+The merchants, ship-owners and Quakers nodded.
+
+"May Providence guide your course aright," said they. And--as Captain
+Woodes Rogers went off to inspect his privateersmen--all indulged in a
+glass of Madeira to pledge "good luck and good health" to the staunch
+seaman from Bristol.
+
+It was not many weeks before the _Duke_ (of three hundred and twenty
+tons) with thirty guns and one hundred and seventeen men, and the
+_Duchess_ (of two hundred and sixty tons) with twenty-six guns and one
+hundred and eight men, sailed from King Road for Cork, in Ireland.
+
+"Egad!" cried Captain Rogers, as they passed out to sea. "Our rigging
+is slack. Our decks are lumbered up. Our stores are badly stowed. Our
+crew is so very mixed that I must stop in Ireland to get more able
+sea-dogs. Was ever captain in a worse fix?"
+
+His Lieutenants grinned, for they saw that things were in a sorry
+mess, indeed.
+
+"Most of us have embraced this trip around the world in order to
+retrieve our fortunes," continued the captain. "Did you ever see a
+harder crew than this? There are tinkers, tailors, haymakers,
+peddlers, fiddlers, a negro and ten boys. None know how to use the
+cutlass and they haven't got any sea-legs. Well, well; I'll make the
+best of it, but it's hard goin', I assure you."
+
+And still the Lieutenants grinned.
+
+They grinned still more when they had lain a few days at Cork, for the
+crew were continually marrying, although they expected to sail
+immediately. However, as the two privateers got under way on
+September 1st,--with the _Hastings_, a man-of-war--the majority of the
+crew drank a health to their spouses; waved their hands to them over
+the rail; and "parted unconcerned." Truly, a sailor has a lass in
+every port.
+
+Not many days after their out-going, a sail was sighted and all speed
+was made to capture her. The Swedish colors fluttered from her
+mast-head, and she hove to at the first gun. Rogers boarded.
+
+"No contraband goods are here," said he, after looking into the hold.
+"We must let her off."
+
+Then--turning to her captain--he said,
+
+"You can go. I am not a pirate--but a privateer--sailing under Letters
+of Marque. I only seize goods that are contraband."
+
+Bobbing and courtesying on the waves, the little Swede soon drifted
+from view.
+
+But the crew grew mutinous,--for had they not come out for plunder?
+The boatswain even called Rogers a traitor.
+
+"Seize the fellow and flog him," cried the sturdy captain. "Put ten of
+these talkative hounds in irons. We'll do the talking on this boat,
+and the sailors must do theirs in the fo'castle."
+
+This was done immediately.
+
+Next day a seaman came aft, with near half the ship's company in his
+rear, and cried:
+
+"I demand the boatswain out of his irons, Captain Rogers. He's done
+nothing to deserve such a severe punishment."
+
+"Speak with me privately, on the quarter-deck," said the bluff
+commander. "I cannot discuss this matter with you in such a crowd."
+And he moved aft.
+
+The grumbler followed, but, no sooner was he alone with stout Woodes,
+than the captain sprang upon him with the agility of a leopard. He was
+thrown to the ground, held, and bound by two officers. Then he was
+stripped and whipped until the blood ran.
+
+"This method," writes the doughty Woodes, "I deemed best for breaking
+any unlawful friendship among the mutinous crew. It allayed the
+tumult, so that they began to submit quietly and those in irons begged
+my pardon, and promised amendment."
+
+Thus the captain had won the first round with the mutineers.
+
+Now, know you, that the War of the Spanish Succession was then in
+progress; a war in which one party was endeavoring to put the Archduke
+Charles of Austria upon the Spanish throne; another to place Philip,
+grandson of Louis XIV of France, in the chair of the rulers. And
+when--a few days later--the two privateers captured a small Spanish
+vessel, they found that their possession of it was disputed, when they
+sailed into the Canaries.
+
+"It has been agreed between Queen Anne of England and the Kings of
+Spain and France," said the Vice-Consul of that place--an
+Englishman--"that all vessels trading to the Canary Isles shall be
+exempt from interference by men-o'-war, or privateers. The prize must
+be released. If you do not do so, we will keep your agent, Mr.
+Vanbrugh, who has come ashore, and will throw him into irons."
+
+But the Vice-Consul had reckoned without his host.
+
+"We are apprehensive that you are obliged to give us this advice in
+order to gratify the Spaniards," wrote Captain Rogers. "If you do not
+allow my agent to come on board my ship, you may expect a visit from
+my guns at eight o'clock to-morrow morn."
+
+To this there was no reply.
+
+Next day the two English privateers stood in close to shore, and, just
+as the shot was rammed home, a boat put off, in the stern of which sat
+Mr. Vanbrugh with a present of wine, grapes, hogs and jelly. The prize
+which had been captured was sent back to Bristol with a picked crew.
+
+The two sea-rovers bore towards the South--soon crossed the Tropic of
+Cancer--and there had appropriate ceremonies for the occasion. The
+tinkers, peddlers, fiddlers, and tailors who made up the crew, were
+each and all hoisted overboard by a rope. A stick was placed between
+their legs and they were ducked again and again in the brine.
+
+"If any man wants to get off," spoke Captain Rogers, "he can do so by
+paying me a half-a-sovereign ($2.50) which must be expended on an
+entertainment for the rest of the company when England shall be
+reached. Every man that is ducked is paid in proportion to the number
+of times that he goes under."
+
+Several accepted this offer. At which a sailor cried out:
+
+"Duck me twelve times, Captain. I want to have a regular orgy when I
+get back home."
+
+And the sailors did it, laughing uproariously.
+
+Sailing to the Cape Verde Islands, the _Duke_ and the _Duchess_
+anchored in the harbor of St. Vincent, where one of the crew, who was
+a good linguist (Joseph Alexander) was sent in a boat to the Governor,
+at San Antonio, in order to negotiate for supplies. He seemed to
+prefer Cape Verde to privateering.
+
+"On October 6th," writes the gallant Rogers, "our boat went to San
+Antonio to get our linguist, according to appointment. No news of
+him."
+
+"On October 6th, our boat returned with nothing but limes and tobacco.
+No news of our linguist."
+
+"On October 7th, no news of our linguist."
+
+"On the 8th, boat sent ashore, but no news of our linguist."
+
+"On the 9th, as the trade-winds are blowing fresh, concluded to leave
+our good Alexander to practice his linguistic and other
+accomplishments ashore. Adieu to our linguist."
+
+Thus disappeared the sleek and crafty Joseph.
+
+There was still trouble from insubordination, for Mr. Page--second
+mate of the _Duchess_--refused to accompany Mr. Cook (second in
+command on the _Duke_). Whereupon the hot-tempered Captain Cook--being
+the superior officer on board--struck him, and several blows were
+interchanged.
+
+At last Page was forced into the boat and brought to the _Duke_, where
+he was ordered to the forecastle in the bilboes (leg irons sliding
+upon a long, iron bar). But he jumped overboard--despising the chance
+of being gobbled up by a shark--and started to swim to his own ship.
+He was brought back, flogged, and put in irons; and he evidently
+found a week of this kind of thing sufficient; for he submitted
+himself humbly to future orders.
+
+Thus Woodes Rogers had already learned that the life of a privateer
+commander was not a happy one.
+
+Steering southwest, a large French ship was seen and chased, but she
+got away from the two consorts with surprising ease. On March 6th,
+when off the coast of Peru, a sail was sighted.
+
+"Let the _Duchess_ bear down on her port and the _Duke_ to starboard,"
+cried Captain Rogers. "Heave a solid shot across her bow, and, if she
+refuses to capitulate, let her have your broadsides."
+
+Dipping, tossing, rolling; the two privateers swooped down upon their
+prey, like hawks. She flew the yellow flag of Spain--and--as the first
+ball of lead cut across her bowsprit, it fluttered to the deck. Up
+went a white shirt, tied to a rat-line, and the crew from the _Duke_
+was soon in charge, and steering her for Lobas: a harbor on the coast.
+
+"She's a tight little barque," said Rogers, when he had landed. "I'll
+make her into a privateer."
+
+So she was hauled up, cleaned, launched, and christened the
+_Beginning_; with a spare topmast from the _Duke_ as a mast, and an
+odd mizzen-topsail altered for a sail. Four swivel-guns were mounted
+upon her deck, and, as she pounded out of the bay, loud cheers greeted
+her from the decks of the _Duchess_, which was loafing outside,
+watching for a merchantman to capture and pillage.
+
+Next morn two sails were sighted, and both _Duke_ and _Duchess_
+hastened to make another haul. As they neared them, one was seen to be
+a stout cruiser from Lima; the other a French-built barque from
+Panama; richly laden, it was thought.
+
+"Broadsides for both," ordered Woodes Rogers. "Broadsides and good
+treatment when the white flag flutters aloft."
+
+As the _Duchess_ chased the Lima boat, the _Duke_ neared the Frenchman
+and spanked a shot at her from a bow-gun. The sea ran high and she did
+not wish to get too close and board, because it would be easier to
+send her men in pinnaces.
+
+"They're afraid!" cried the Captain of the _Duke_. "We can take 'em
+with no exertion." But he was like many an Englishman: despised his
+foe only to find him a valiant one.
+
+Piling into four boats, the men from the _Duke_, fully armed, rowed
+swiftly towards the rolling Frenchman. They approached to within
+twenty yards. Then
+
+_Crash! Crash! Rattle! Crash!_
+
+A sheet of flame burst from her sides; muskets and pistols spoke;
+cannon spat grape and cannister; the Englishmen were frightfully cut
+up.
+
+"On! On!" shouted young John Rogers--a brother of Woodes--as he waved
+his cutlass aloft to enliven the sailors. But it was his last cry. A
+bullet struck him in the forehead, and he fell into the sea without a
+murmur.
+
+_Crash! Crash!_
+
+Again roared out a volley. Oars were splintered. One boat was pierced
+below the water line. She sank, and her men floundered about upon the
+surface of the oily sea.
+
+"Bear off, and rescue our comrades!" cried the leaders of this futile
+attack, and, as the French barque drifted away, the remaining boats
+busied themselves with the swimming sailors. The assault had been a
+complete failure.
+
+"Curses upon the Frenchman!" cried Captain Rogers when he saw the
+saucy fighter drawing off. "We'll go after her to-morrow, and catch
+her, or my blood's not English. What say you, men?"
+
+"Yes. After her and board her amid-ships!" cried all. "Run our own
+vessel alongside."
+
+"And that I will do," answered Rogers, watching the lumbering
+merchantman through his glass. "She's entirely too well armed for a
+trader."
+
+When morning dawned, the Frenchman was still ploughing along the coast
+in the light breeze, with all sail set. But there was not wind enough
+to force her ahead of her pursuer. The _Duchess_ now returned from her
+chase of the Lima boat, and, joining her _Duke_, bore in upon the able
+fighter from the open sea.
+
+"Egad! We'll have her yet," shouted Captain Rogers, rubbing his hands.
+
+"She luffs!" cried a lieutenant. "She's coming to!"
+
+Sure enough the Frenchman saw that resistance now was useless. She
+staggered into the wind, and a white flag beckoned for a prize-crew to
+come and take her.
+
+"And," writes Captain Rogers, "I found that a Bishop who had been
+aboard of her, had been put ashore, which gave me much grief. For I
+always love to catch fat prelates, as they give up a stout sum as
+their ransom. In truth they are nice pickings."
+
+Things were going well with the wild rovers from Bristol. Plunder
+there was aplenty and the holds of the _Duke_ and the _Duchess_ bulged
+with treasure. Yet Woodes Rogers was not satisfied.
+
+"On! On to Guayaquil!" cried he. "We'll capture this wealthy city;
+demand a great ransom; and sail to England, richer than the Spanish
+conquerors of the Incas."
+
+"Hurrah!" shouted his staunch followers. "On! On! to Guayaquil!"
+
+So--steering for the coast of Ecuador--the privateers drew near this
+rich Spanish-American town. A gulf lay before their eyes in which was
+a small island; with a little, white-housed village (called Puna) on
+its Eastern shore.
+
+"Take the place!" cried Rogers, as the two ships forged into the
+sleepy shallows, and rounded to before the peaceful habitation.
+
+With a cheer, the sailors piled into the boats, rowed ashore,
+and--with cutlass and dirk in hand--pressed through the narrow
+streets. Shots rang out from a few of the thatched houses; two seamen
+fell to the ground with mortal wounds; but, cheering wildly, the
+privateers rushed through the narrow highway; pressed into the
+court-house; and seized upon the Lieutenant-Governor of the town of
+Guayaquil, as he was attempting to hide behind an old clothes-press.
+
+"Let no man get away in order to warn the large town of our
+approach!" shouted Captain Rogers. "Catch all who dash for the canoes
+upon the beach!"
+
+"Crush the bloomin' canoes!" yelled Cook, as he saw some of the
+natives running towards them on the sandy shore. "Crush the canoes
+before the devils can get there!"
+
+"All right!" answered several of his men, as they ran for the clusters
+of boats. "We'll put holes in them!"
+
+As they hurried forward, several of the natives were ahead. Two jumped
+into the bark boats and paddled furiously for Guayaquil. The _zip_,
+_zip_ of bullets nipped the water around them, but,--with desperate
+sweeps--they dug their blades into the sea and got safely off. As a
+result, the city was all ready and prepared for the invaders.
+
+"Ho! Ho!" laughed Rogers, as he thumbed the papers of the
+Lieutenant-Governor. "What is this?"
+
+"A warning to the townsfolk of Guayaquil," said one of his men, as he
+peered over his shoulder.
+
+Rogers chuckled.
+
+"Beware, all you people"--he read--"of a squadron from the faraway
+isles of Great Britain which is coming shortly upon you. There will be
+full ten great ships, heavily manned and well armed for attack. The
+arch rogue, William Dampier, will be in control,--he who has plundered
+Puna before. Be on your guard, citizens! Be prepared! Arm yourselves!"
+
+"Hah! Hah!" laughed the free-booting captain. "They think I'm
+Dampier. That's good. But we'll have a tough time with them, for they
+know that we mean to assault their pretty little town."
+
+His followers looked solemn.
+
+"Let's attack, right away," cried several, "before the Spaniards have
+time to prepare for our charge!"
+
+Rogers, however, would not hear of it.
+
+"We must rest. Equip ourselves. Place cannon in the bows of our boats,
+and then we will be ready."
+
+His men murmured, but they knew that when Rogers had made up his mind
+upon a thing, there was no use in endeavoring to dissuade him. So they
+collected what plunder was to be had and awaited his further orders.
+
+Two days later all was ready for the advance. It was near
+midnight--upon April 22nd,--when the command was passed around:
+
+"Muffle your oars and take the town!"
+
+With one hundred and ten men in the jolly boats, the privateers neared
+the sleepy, little seaport. Not a sound broke the silence, save the
+drip, drip of the sweeps, yet, as they approached the white-washed
+walls of the lower town,--a bonfire was touched off upon the shore.
+
+"'Tis well," whispered a stout sailor. "Now we can see to shoot!"
+
+As he said this, many lights appeared in the houses of Guayaquil. The
+townspeople were wide awake.
+
+"What means this, sirrah?" thundered Rogers at a native guide, who was
+piloting him to the shore.
+
+The fellow had a ready answer.
+
+"'Tis the celebration of All Saints Day," he answered smiling. "The
+people here are good Christians."
+
+"They know that we are coming," growled the English captain, for, as
+the native spoke, a Spaniard upon the shore was heard to shout:
+
+"Puna has been captured! The enemy is advancing! Arm! Arm!"
+
+Bells clanged from the steeples of the little churches. Muskets and
+guns went off. Black masses could be seen surging into the streets.
+Cannon roared, and a screeching shot spun ahead of the on-coming
+boats.
+
+"'Tis nothing," said Rogers. "The alarm has only just been given.
+Preparations are not complete and we can rush them, easily."
+
+But Captain Cook had his own opinion upon the affair.
+
+"The Buccaneers," said he, "never attack any large place after it is
+alarmed. My advice is to keep away."
+
+"Don't go in," cried several. "Wait and rush them when they are not so
+well prepared."
+
+Even the men seemed disinclined to advance.
+
+Thus cautious counsel prevailed: the boats dropped down-stream
+again--about three miles below the town--and were joined by two small
+barques. They were prizes which had been recently captured. Here the
+flotilla lay while the cries in the city grew inaudible,--for the
+inhabitants saw that the attack had been avoided.
+
+When flood-tide came, Captain Rogers once more ordered an advance upon
+the town.
+
+"No! No!" argued Dover. "They are too well prepared. Night will cloak
+our movements, so we should then go on. I, myself, advise the sending
+of a trumpeter with a flag of truce. He shall propose that we make
+some trades with the people of this place."
+
+"Your measure is half-hearted," said Rogers, with heat. "You are a
+craven knave. Let's rush the town like Englishmen and heroes!"
+
+Again cautious counsel prevailed. Two prisoners--a Lieutenant from
+Puna, and the Captain of the Frenchman of recent capture--were sent to
+parley with the Spaniards.
+
+"The English are afraid!" whispered the inhabitants. "Let us keep them
+off with braggadocio, and mayhap reinforcements will come to us."
+
+So they bickered and delayed.
+
+"These dogs would palaver forever," said Captain Rogers, when
+negotiations had proceeded for full two days without result. "I, for
+one, am for attacking the city right now!"
+
+"Yes! On! On!" cried his men.
+
+Even the cautious Dover was ready to advance; so, landing upon the
+beach, the one hundred and ten ran towards the town with a wild,
+exultant whoop!
+
+_Zip! Zip!_ came the bullets from the nearer houses, as the privateers
+advanced.
+
+_Boom! Boom!_ sounded the guns from the _Duchess_ and the _Duke_,
+which had edged up near the wharves and anchored. Shells shrieked and
+burst; guns roared; and, with a hoarse cheer, the English beat down
+two lines of Spaniards who opposed them.
+
+Back, back, they crushed the defenders of Guayaquil to the
+market-place in the centre of the town, where four cannon were drawn
+up behind a barricade which was flanked by cavalry.
+
+_Crash! Crash!_ they roared at the on-coming privateers, and many a
+man went down before the exploding grape and cannister. But the blood
+of the English was now up.
+
+"Take the guns!" shouted Woodes Rogers. "Scale the barricade and spike
+the pieces!"
+
+With a mighty roar the jack-tars ran for the engines of death; leaping
+over the wall of the defenses; bayonetting the gunners; turning the
+spitting war-engines upon the cavalry, which, in confusion and dismay,
+was driven down a crooked lane. It was the last stand. The English
+standard soon waved from the flag-pole of the House of Justice.
+
+"And now," cried Captain Rogers, gleefully, "I'll meet the worthy
+_Padres_ and treat with them for a ransom. We'll make them pay full
+well to get back the neat little town of Guayaquil."
+
+Crestfallen and abashed, the city fathers were soon brought before the
+privateer.
+
+"Señor," said they, "your men can fight like devils. Señor, you are
+the first man to have taken our town, and many a Buccaneer has
+endeavored to do so!"
+
+Captain Rogers smiled.
+
+"Tut! Tut!" said he. "The English can always battle. But--Fathers--you
+must pay me well for this affair. I demand thirty thousand pieces of
+eight ($35,000 or about £6,750) as ransom for your fair city. I will
+give you two days in which to collect it."
+
+The worthy _Padres_ hung their heads.
+
+"You English," said they, "are cruel extortioners."
+
+Yet--in two day's time--the British marched to their boats with colors
+flying, bugles blowing, and drums beating a rollicking tattoo. Captain
+Rogers brought up the rear with a few men. He had secured the ransom
+and fairly smiled with exuberant joy. "Our sailors," says he, "kept
+continually dropping their pistols, cutlasses, and pole-axes; which
+shows they had grown careless and very weak--weary of being
+soldiers--and it was high time that we should be gone from hence to
+the shores of Merrie England."
+
+Thus, on April 28th, when the _Duke_ and the _Duchess_ weighed anchor
+and stood out to sea: guns roared: trumpets blew: the men cheered.
+
+"And so," writes the gallant Rogers, "we took leave of the Spaniards
+very cheerfully, but not half so well pleased as we should have been
+if we had taken 'em by surprise; for I was well assured from all
+hands, that at least we should then have got about two hundred
+thousand pieces of eight in money (£45,000 or $225,000); and in
+jewels, diamonds, and wrought and unwrought gold and silver."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The owners of the two privateers: the _Duke_ and the _Duchess_, sat in
+solemn meeting at the good town of Bristol. It was the month of
+October, 1711.
+
+The fat Quakers were smiling, for Captain Rogers had brought them
+back equally fat moneys.
+
+The rugged merchants laughed, for the venture had been a howling
+success.
+
+"And you were wounded?" said a stockholder, turning to the bronzed
+sea-rover who stood before them, giving account and reckoning of his
+journey to the Spanish Main.
+
+"A scratch," replied the stout sea-dog, smiling. "When we tackled a
+Manila ship on the way home from Guayaquil, I got a ball through the
+jaw, and a splinter in the left foot. It laid me up for full three
+weeks, but, gentlemen, a cat and Woodes Rogers both have nine lives."
+
+And even the sober Quaker fathers laughed at this sally.
+
+"You have done well," they said. "We will reward you with money and a
+good berth. How would you care to be Governor of the Bahamas?"
+
+"Fine!" said Woodes Rogers, chuckling.
+
+And that is the way the old sea-barnacle spent his declining years,
+dying at the tropic isle on July 16th, 1732. Hail to this Prince of
+Privateers!
+
+
+
+
+TWILIGHT AT SEA
+
+
+    The twilight hours like birds flew by,
+    As lightly and as free;
+    Ten thousand stars were in the sky,
+    Ten thousand on the sea;
+    For every wave with dimpled face,
+    That leaped up in the air,
+    Had caught a star in its embrace,
+    And held it trembling there.
+
+
+
+
+FORTUNATUS WRIGHT
+
+THE MOST HATED PRIVATEERSMAN OF THE MEDITERRANEAN SEA
+
+(1715-1765)
+
+
+    "It was a high counsel which I once heard given to a
+    young person: 'Always do what you are afraid to
+    do.'"--EMERSON.
+
+
+FORTUNATUS WRIGHT
+
+THE MOST HATED PRIVATEERSMAN OF THE MEDITERRANEAN SEA
+
+(1715-1765)
+
+    "'_Be sure you're right, then go ahead!_' was coined by Andrew Jackson,
+    Who was a fighter, tough as nails, and loved to lay the whacks on,
+    He followed out this sage advice, in spite of opposition,
+    While everybody winked and said,--'_A Fellow with a Mission!_'
+    In other days, in other climes, there lived a seaman daring,
+    Who loved a fight, as well as he,--was just as good at swearing;
+    His name was Wright, and thus in spite of all his foemen said,
+    Old _Fortune_ Wright, was surely right, whene'er he went ahead!"
+
+                    --_Chants of the Eastern Clipper Ships._--1846.
+
+
+In the year 1744 war was declared between England and France. French
+privateers harried the coast of her rival, caught her merchantmen
+whenever they ventured away from stout men-o'-warsmen, and chased them
+in the blue, shimmering waters of the Mediterranean. It seemed as if
+there were never gun-boats enough to protect the British shipping, and
+thus many of the English merchants grew choleric and angry.
+
+Englishmen carried on quite a trade with Italy, Greece, and the
+countries of Asia Minor, and at Leghorn--upon the Italian coast--they
+had numerous trading shops and docks for their own vessels. They began
+to suffer, not only great annoyance, but also great loss, from the
+depredations of the French privateers which swarmed about the harbor
+mouth and scurried into every corner of the ragged coast-line. Their
+trade was hampered, their ships compelled to remain in port, or--if
+they ventured out--they were inevitably captured. The situation was
+unbearable.
+
+"My! My!" said one of the red-faced merchants. "My! My! We must have a
+remedy for this. My! My! We must have our own privateers!"
+
+"Well spoken," cried another. "And I know the very man to help us out.
+He is living here, now, and his name is Fortunatus Wright. Gentlemen!
+I tell you he is a true sea-dog! He is the fellow to cripple these
+saucy, French bushwhackers of the sea."
+
+"Hear! Hear!" cried others.
+
+And thus Mr. Fortunatus Wright was sought for, and was asked:
+
+"Will you take charge of a privateer for the British merchants of
+Leghorn? Will you chase these rascally Frenchmen? Will you cripple
+their operations? Will you chastise these sea-robbers?"
+
+To this Mr. Fortunatus Wright, being a true seaman with the love of
+the salt water tugging at his heart strings, is said to have remarked,
+
+"Whoop-ee!"
+
+Which being interpreted means:
+
+"Gentlemen, I'm dee-lighted!"
+
+As luck would have it, there was a vessel lying in the harbor which
+was directly available. She was a brigantine called the _Fame_, and,
+although we know little about her tonnage and the number of stout
+sea-dogs whom she could carry, it is apparent that Fortunatus Wright
+considered her most admirably suited for his venture. At any rate he
+soon boarded her, swore in a crew of stalwart seamen, and saw that
+plenty of gunpowder, cutlasses, boarding-pikes and muskets were
+aboard.
+
+It was September, 1746, and, before the close of the month of
+December, the _Fame_ had captured eighteen prizes, one of which was a
+hulking, French privateer with twenty guns and one hundred and fifty
+men, especially fitted out to put an end to the career of the vessel
+of Fortunatus Wright. They had met off the port of Messina and had had
+a roaring, little scrimmage, but--seeing that matters were going ill
+with him--the French captain had cried:
+
+"Run for the shore! Run our ship aground! We will fix her so that this
+English hound cannot make a prize of us!"
+
+"Voilà! Voilà!" his men had shouted. "Oui! We will f-e-e-x th-e-es
+Eengleesh chien! Oui! Au revoir, Monsieur Wright!"
+
+So saying, the privateer had been run upon the sandy beach, bows on,
+where her crew took to the brush, yelling derisively at the _Fame_ as
+she came up within hail,--sails snug down so as to move cautiously.
+
+The Frenchmen had counted without their host.
+
+"We'll float her, my hearties!" cried Wright. "All hands ashore in
+the small boats. Tie hawsers to her stern and pull her off!"
+
+This they did, while the French captain, far back in the brush, saw it
+and fairly boiled with disappointment and rage.
+
+"Zees Wright," he blustered. "One cannot outweet heem."
+
+So the privateer was towed into the harbor of Leghorn, where all the
+English merchants cried:
+
+"Good! Good! Now we have a true man to fight our battles! Huzzah for
+Fortunatus Wright!"
+
+The French were furious, while at the island of Malta (where were
+numerous French, Spanish, Austrian and English traders) the feeling
+grew intense. Here the Austrians sided with the English and several
+duels were fought by angry officers, as crafty Fortunatus Wright
+continued to send in his prizes.
+
+Finally the French merchants forwarded a missive to Marseilles, in
+France, which ran:
+
+"Can the French be further humiliated by this corsair--this
+robber--Fortunatus Wright? Let our people fit out a privateer
+sufficiently large to cope with him, and let her defeat and cripple
+this fellow. Make haste, for he is doing much damage!"
+
+An answer came back.
+
+"Before a month is gone, Monsieur Wright will no more harass your
+privateers. What we have determined to do, we shall do!"
+
+Word of this was brought to Captain Fortunatus Wright and he only
+smiled broadly. "There'll be another ship to bring into Malta, care
+of F. Wright, Esq.," said he. "And it will be labelled Collect on
+Delivery."
+
+Not three weeks later the French vessel came jauntily into the harbor
+of Malta. The captain was a man of considerable repute as a seaman and
+fighter, and he was warmly received by the French. They invited him to
+many dinners.
+
+"Voilà!" said they. "Here is the fellow to do the tr-e-e-k. Tenez!
+There will soon be one b-e-eg mince pie we-eth Captain Wright eenside.
+Ha! Ha!"
+
+It is never well to count your chickens before they hatch or to pat a
+man upon the back before he has won a victory.
+
+Eagerly the French captain cruised outside, continually upon the watch
+for slippery Skipper Wright. His vessel was superior to the _Fame_ in
+numbers of both guns and men. He was sure of victory. "If only the
+hated Englishman would appear!" he grumbled.
+
+Meanwhile the excitement and expectation at Malta became intense.
+Finally it was noised abroad that the terrible privateer had been
+sighted about five miles off the harbor. All factions were aroused:
+the Austrians and English slapping the French and Spaniards upon the
+back, and saying, "Now there will be a chance to sink bold Captain
+Wright, Messieurs!"
+
+To which the irritable Frenchmen would answer, "Ah! Yes! He will be
+gobbled up like Jonah by the whale. Pouff!"
+
+The French privateer sailed out to meet the foe, and soon her white
+canvas had disappeared from view around a jutting headland. The
+stranger ran off. The Frenchman pursued, and soon both were lost to
+the eager gaze of the population of Malta, which crowded every
+headland, eager and expectant for the bloody battle. The shore was
+black with people.
+
+Hours passed. Another day came and with it the news that two vessels
+had been sighted off the entrance to the harbor. Hundreds rushed to
+the headlands and cliffs in order to see the victor and the
+vanquished, for two cruisers were approaching, the one towing the
+other.
+
+"Huzzah!" shouted an enthusiastic Frenchman. "We have won! See--up go
+the French colors upon the first vessel. The other--poof--eet ees a
+jelly. Eet ees pounded to ze shreds."
+
+"Huzzah!" shouted all of his compatriots, and they danced about,
+shaking hands, embracing, and waving their hats and their
+handkerchiefs.
+
+"Ce cher Wright!" cried they. "He ees een the soup, eh?"
+
+And what of the Englishmen?
+
+They--of course--said nothing, but bit their lips, looked at their
+Austrian friends, and hung their heads dejectedly.
+
+Here is the most beautiful part of all this story, for Fortunatus
+Wright, my boys, was a joker--a real, true end man in a minstrel
+show--and he was having his fun with "the Frenchies." His
+vessel--indeed--had come off victorious, in spite of the fact that she
+had been much more shattered than the other contestant. Therefore,
+Wright had put her in tow of the captured Frenchman, which he,
+himself, was steering, with the crew of his opponent down in the hold,
+as prisoners of war.
+
+Seeing the crowded headlands and swarming ramparts in the harbor, he
+could not resist the temptation of hoisting the flag of France. He
+chuckled as he saw the effect it produced upon the crowd, then--as the
+vessels rounded a fort at the entrance to the harbor--down came the
+colors of France and up went the English flag to the peak, with the
+French flag below.
+
+And then--well, you can imagine how the Englishmen and Austrians
+yelled, and how the poor Frenchmen beat a hasty flight for their
+homes. Fortunatus Wright had had a sweet revenge. He laughed long and
+hard, while the Frenchmen said, "Curse heem! He ees a devil! A
+thousand curses upon the head of thees Wright! Sapristi!" And they did
+not open any more bottles of wine for their supposedly great captain
+from Marseilles.
+
+As for Fortunatus Wright, he continued to harass the French and get
+into trouble, as the following anecdote well shows.
+
+Not long after his famous battle, he was travelling in Italy with
+introductions to many of the nobility, and arrived--one day--before
+the city gates of Lucca. Here was stationed a guard, and a sentinel
+scrutinized him with great care and deliberation.
+
+Fortunatus Wright grew impatient.
+
+"Can I not go by?" said he. "My passports are correct!"
+
+"No! No!" answered the soldier. "I no likea zose peestols in your
+belta. You must deeliver them to me before you can go to ze ceety."
+
+The English sea-captain said nothing, but the color rose in his
+cheeks. In an instant he raised one of his pistols and pointed it at
+the head of the astonished sentry.
+
+"The first man that endeavors to take my weapons from me," he yelled,
+"does so at the cost of his life!"
+
+The guardsman was flabbergasted.
+
+"Corporal of the Guard! Post Number Two!" he shouted, presenting his
+musket at the same instant, and pointing it at the head of the
+irascible Captain Wright.
+
+Immediately a dozen soldiers came running to the spot. They surrounded
+the irate English traveller. He was ordered to "Throw up your hands!"
+
+"You air one mad Englishmana!" said the Officer of the Guard. "Here.
+Comea weeth usa! We weel feexa youa!"
+
+Seeing that the odds were too much against him, Captain Wright allowed
+himself to be taken to the guard house, while a soldier was dispatched
+to the British Ambassador in order to explain that "they had captured
+an Englishman as mad as a mad dog!"
+
+Things looked bad for the great privateersman. But was his name not
+Fortunatus? And was not good fortune always with him?
+
+A nobleman to whom the bold mariner had a letter now intervened in his
+favor, and secured the release of the high-tempered man-of-the-sea. On
+the morning of the fourth day of his captivity, and at the early hour
+of four, a soldier waked Captain Fortunatus Wright, who was peacefully
+sleeping at a military prison. A missive was handed him, and he read:
+
+    "SEIGNEUR WRIGHT:--Since you have been so daring as to
+    attempt to enter the town of Lucca by force, it is
+    therefore ordered that you shall now leave the State and
+    never presume to enter it again, without leave from the
+    Republic. Post-horses, with a guard to see you over the
+    border, are now ready for you. We trust that you shall
+    have a safe journey.
+
+        "By order of the
+
+            "GOVERNOR OF LUCCA."
+
+"These Italians are the most unreasonable people alive," growled
+Captain Wright. But he pocketed both his pride and his pistols,
+entered the post-chaise at the door, and was soon rolling forth for
+other parts. In spite of this order--he continued to reside in Italy,
+with the true independence of a privateersman.
+
+In December, 1746, the bold seafarer made an exceptionally good
+capture: a French vessel on a voyage from Marseilles to Naples, with a
+rich cargo and the servants and luggage of a real potentate,--the
+Prince of Campo Florida.
+
+When valorous Wright stepped aboard of her, her captain was scraping
+and bowing near the rail.
+
+"Ah, Seigneur!" said he, "you have taken me, that is true. But you
+cannot touch my cargo or my men. See,--here is a pass from King George
+the Second of England. It says, 'All of the cargo, passengers, and
+crew of _La Belle Florence_ shall be exempt from molestation by
+English cruisers and privateers.' What say you to that?"
+
+Captain Wright looked sad, but he seized the paper and read it with
+care. His smile broadened as he perused the document.
+
+"How am I to know that this particular ship is to go free?" said he.
+"For although you told me that the name of your vessel (_La Belle
+Florence_) was mentioned in this document, I do not find that it is
+mentioned. The paper merely states that 'the vessel' shall not be
+molested, and, my boy, you may have stolen this from some other
+skipper. Ah! Ha! You are my prize and shall go with me into Leghorn."
+
+You should have seen the face of the Frenchman!
+
+"I vill haf revenge!" said he. And he had it.
+
+For, when the matter was referred to the British Minister, he turned
+it over to the Admiral who commanded the English ships at this
+station, and this high official made Captain Wright give up both
+vessel and cargo. He did so with the same unwillingness that he had
+shown when asked to leave the quaint, little town of Lucca. Captain
+Wright, you see, had that bull-dog stubbornness which is
+characteristic of men of the British Isles. He believed in hanging on
+to everything which he took.
+
+A bit later, this trait got him into serious difficulties and into
+prison.
+
+A number of English merchants were trading with the people of Turkey
+under the name of "The Company of English Merchants trading to the
+Levant Sea," and, finding it impossible to ship all of their goods in
+British vessels, they often sent them in the holds of French ships.
+True it was that France was at war with England at this time, but, as
+these were English cargoes, the British naturally thought that they
+should be allowed to come through, unmolested, even though the French
+vessels might be captured by English privateers. But they had not
+reckoned with Fortunatus Wright.
+
+Two French clipper ships were scudding quietly along off the Italian
+coast, one bright day in June of 1747, when a rakish vessel appeared
+upon the horizon and speedily bore down upon them. They crowded on
+sail, but they could not outdistance their pursuer, who was soon near
+enough to fire a gun across the bow of the foremost, and flaunt the
+English colors in her face.
+
+"Helas!" growled the French skipper. "Eet ees that devil, ze Captain
+Wright. Eet is all up with me! Helas!"
+
+So he came to and surrendered; but the other fellow pounded away at
+the British privateer with a couple of swivel guns and put up a smart,
+little skirmish before a well-directed shot from the deck of the
+Englishman, knocked a topmast crashing over the port side. Crippled,
+she surrendered.
+
+It did not take Captain Wright long to sail into Leghorn harbor with
+his prizes. The holds were filled with bales of rich goods, marked:
+"The property of the Company of English Merchants trading to the
+Levant Sea."
+
+"I'll sell the bloomin' cargoes," cried Wright. "For the vessels were
+under the French flag and we're at war with that nation. Besides this,
+one of them put up a fight against me."
+
+Thus--the cargoes were sold--Captain Fortunatus pocketed the money,
+and went upon his way, rejoicing.
+
+But he did not rejoice very long, for the British merchants were
+furious with anger, and procured--through some means or other--an
+order from the English Government to the effect that English cargoes
+in French vessels were not to be touched--when captured by British
+privateers. Word was sent to Captain Wright to refund the money which
+he had secured by the sale of the cargoes captured in the French
+ships, and the property of "The Company of English Merchants trading
+to the Levant Sea."
+
+To this Captain Wright answered, "Bah! I have the money. I intend to
+keep it!"
+
+Orders were sent from England to have this fellow arrested and shipped
+home; so the Italian police obligingly captured the old sea-dog,
+locked him up, and kept him in jail for six months, while the
+attorneys fought over the legality of the affair.
+
+At length the bluff privateersman was allowed to go free, and--he
+never paid back the money. "These fellows attacked me at law," he
+wrote, "but I have not acted contrary to it. I am an Englishman. I am
+acting under a commission from the King of England, and, when we are
+at war with France, I intend to hold and keep all the cargoes which I
+capture in French vessels. As for this 'English Company trading to the
+Levant Sea!' let them learn a lesson and pack their goods in future in
+English vessels. English oak should be good enough for English
+cargoes."
+
+The "English Company trading to the Levant Sea" had certainly learned
+that Fortunatus Wright was as stubborn as a mule, and--in the
+future--they employed no French vessels to carry their bales of
+commerce. _A wise dog only allows himself to be bitten once._
+
+France and England now came to a peaceable settlement of their
+difficulties, but in 1755 war broke out afresh. Fortunatus Wright
+chuckled, for he itched for another brush upon the wide sweep of the
+ocean, and a chance to take a prize or two. So the _Fame_ not being
+available, he had a small vessel constructed at Leghorn, and called
+her the _Saint George_. She was a fast sailer and was as graceful as a
+sea-gull. "In this fair ship," said he, as he gazed upon her
+admiringly, "I shall take many a prize and shall have, I trust, many a
+sharp adventure. _Saint George_, I salute you! May you bring me only
+the best of luck!"
+
+Trouble was in store for the well-hated mariner even before he turned
+his vessel's prow into the Mediterranean, for--in spite of the fact
+that the Italians were neutral--their sympathies were strongly with
+France, and they looked with decided disfavor upon the graceful hull
+of the _Saint George_, as she bobbed serenely upon the surface of the
+bay. Knowing full well the reputation of this famous seaman, they
+paid particular attention to his little craft, and sent a number of
+officials to inspect her. In a few days the intrepid Fortunatus
+received the information that, as his was a merchant vessel, he must
+carry a crew of only five-and-twenty men, and an armament of four
+small guns.
+
+At this the old sea-dog only laughed, and exhibited the greatest
+anxiety to comply with the requirements of the law.
+
+"I would suggest," said he to one of the officials of the town, "that
+you keep guard-boats rowing around my ship in order to be sure that I
+do not take on more guns and men than the law permits, before I set
+sail."
+
+The officer smiled. "We are watching you closely," said he. "For
+Monsieur Wright, it is said that you are as crafty as a cat!"
+
+The mariner grinned, and, before going to sea, obtained from the
+Governor, a certificate to the effect that he had complied with all
+the requirements of the law.
+
+Armed with this, on July 28th, 1756, he put to sea, in company with
+four merchant vessels laden with valuable cargoes, and bound for the
+shores of England. Carefully the _Saint George_ had been watched, so
+carefully, in fact, that the authorities had overlooked the lading of
+the other vessels, aboard which numerous guns, howitzers, and
+hand-spikes had been smuggled, besides a number of seamen who were
+well-experienced in fighting upon the ocean. It is true that
+Fortunatus Wright was as crafty as a cat, or--as they say in
+Maine--"You'd have to git up early if yer wanted ter lick him."
+
+Not only had the officials at Leghorn watched every move of this
+well-known privateersman, but they had sent word to the French that
+Wright had only a feeble force, that he was accompanying several rich
+prizes, and that he could be easily beaten and captured by a vessel of
+any size. So much hated was he, that it is said the French king had
+promised Knighthood and a handsome life pension to the sailor who
+could bring Wright to the shores of France _dead or alive_. The
+merchants of Marseilles were particularly bitter against him, for he
+had captured many of their ships, and in the market-place (where all
+could see it) had been posted a placard, which ran:
+
+    "ALL SAILORS AND SEAMEN ATTENTION!
+
+    To the person, or persons, who will capture and bring to
+    France, the body of the arch-villain Captain Fortunatus
+    Wright, shall be given
+
+        A SUM DOUBLE THE VALUE OF WRIGHT'S VESSEL.
+
+    Frenchmen! Catch this Thief! Bring him in Dead or Alive!
+    Do your Duty!
+
+    This sum is guaranteed by the Merchants and Ship-owners
+    of Marseilles, and the Chamber of Commerce."
+
+Wright had heard of this, and it sent a grim look into his eyes. He
+also heard that a vessel was cruising outside the harbor in wait for
+him, and thus he was not surprised, as he saw a large boat upon his
+port bow, when only a few hours' sail from the snug harbor of Leghorn.
+
+This vessel--a zebeque--had been waiting for the well-hated
+privateersman for several days, as her captain had been warned by the
+Italians that Wright was about to set sail. She had three masts, each
+carrying a huge, three-cornered sail, sixteen guns of considerable
+size, and several swivels. Her crew numbered two hundred and eighty
+men, well armed and eager for a brush with the famous Fortunatus,
+whose proverbial good fortune seemed now to have deserted him.
+
+Rounding to, Wright signalled to his merchantmen to draw near and
+hurriedly transported some of the cannon, which he had smuggled, to
+his own vessel. He also added to his small crew, so that--when the
+zebeque came pounding down within shooting distance--he had increased
+his sailors from twenty-five to seventy-five, and his guns, from four
+to twelve.
+
+"Now let the Frenchie come on!" he cried. "I'm half prepared, but I'll
+give her a warmer welcome than she ever had in all her career!"
+
+"Huzzah! Huzzah!" shouted his men, who were a motley collection of all
+nationalities: Italians, English, Portuguese, Dutch, Germans, and a
+few Arabs. "Huzzah! Huzzah! Wright forever!" The Arabs, of course,
+didn't say this, but they tried to.
+
+The French were very confident, and, as they came within range of the
+guns of the little _Saint George_ they began to sing a hymn of
+victory, while their captain already saw, in his hands, the rich
+reward offered by the good citizens of Marseilles.
+
+"Poof!" he chuckled. "Monsieur Wright, he soon take dinnaire in my
+cabin. Poof!"
+
+But Monsieur Wright was a different fellow than he imagined, and his
+men--although of all nationalities--were so animated by his stirring
+and martial spirit, that they fought better than they had ever fought
+in their lives before. You all know how necessary to success "Spirit"
+is in a foot-ball team, or a base-ball nine. The team which has the
+do-or-dare spirit, the never-give-up-until-the-last-gun-is-fired
+determination, is usually the team that wins. And the spirit of the
+captain is the controlling factor in any contest. If he be no
+desperate fighter, his followers will not be desperate fighters. If he
+is weak-kneed in a crisis, his followers will be weak-kneed.
+
+So this motley crew, under Fortunatus Wright, cheered onward by the
+dauntless navigator, fought as they had never fought before. Arab and
+German strove as well as Englishman and Italian to battle strenuously
+beneath the eye of the famous privateersman. They had never been
+together before, but, animated by the presence of this fearless
+"cock-of-the-Mediterranean," they now sailed into the Frenchman as if
+the zebeque were a vessel of equal strength and armament. Cheer after
+cheer welled into the air as the two antagonists drew near each other,
+while the puff of white smoke from the sides of the French vessel was
+followed by the _chug! chug!_ of solid shot, as it cut up the waves
+near the body of the staunch, little _Saint George_.
+
+"It's three to one against us, Boys!" shouted the battle-scarred
+Captain Wright. "Fire for the enemy's rigging and bring down one of
+her masts, if you can. If you fight hard we can lick her!"
+
+The screech of a shell cut his words short, for a piece of iron passed
+dangerously near his lips, striking a stout Italian in the neck, and
+rendering him useless for further conflict.
+
+Around and around in a wide circle floated the two sea-warriors, for
+the wind was light and just drove them along at the rate of a snail's
+pace. The rag-tag-and-bob-tail crew on the _Saint George_ stood to
+their guns like veterans and poured in such a hot fire that the French
+captain speedily realized that his only chance for victory was to
+board and overwhelm the English by superior numbers.
+
+"Bring the vessel up on her starboard side!" he commanded. "And get
+out the boarding-pikes! Now we'll finish Captain Wright!"
+
+The zebeque soon ranged alongside the battered _Saint George_, threw
+her grappling hooks into the rigging, and her men were in a
+hand-to-hand struggle with the motley crew who battled for the veteran
+Fortunatus. _Slash! Slash! Crack!_ The cutlasses cut and parried, the
+pistols spat, and the boarding-pikes thrust and struck. Cheering
+wildly the Frenchmen attempted to climb upon the deck of the
+privateer, but the followers of old Wright fought like demons. They
+parried and thrust like fiends; and such was the ferocity of their
+struggle that the boarders were repulsed with great slaughter.
+
+[Illustration: "THE BOARDERS WERE REPULSED WITH GREAT SLAUGHTER."]
+
+"Thees Wright ees a very hornet for a fight!" sighed the French
+captain, as he ordered the grappling hooks cast off, and floated his
+vessel away.
+
+_Poom! Poom!_
+
+There was still some fight left in the little _Saint George_ and her
+dauntless crew kept pounding iron at the sullen zebeque, which,
+shattered and torn, filled away and made for the open sea. Her captain
+had been struck by a piece of shell just as the battle closed; two
+lieutenants were killed, seventy men were wounded, and eighty-eight
+had been killed by the accurate shooting of the "Never-Say-Dies" under
+Captain Fortunatus Wright: the invincible. It had been a gallant
+battle, gallantly fought by both sides, and gallantly won.
+
+Bold navigator Wright followed his crippled adversary for several
+miles, then--seeing another French gun-boat threatening his convoy--he
+returned to the merchant-ships which had accompanied him; sent them
+back into Leghorn harbor; and followed, next day, with the proud, but
+battered _Saint George_. It had been a glorious victory.
+
+No sooner had the war-scarred Captain Wright let go his anchor chains
+in the harbor of Leghorn than he realized that he had only just begun
+to fight.
+
+"Sapristi!" said an Italian official. "This pirate has deceived us!
+This fellow was allowed but four guns upon his ship and he had twelve.
+To the jail with this dog! To the prison with this cut-throat!
+Sapristi!"
+
+A boat soon rowed to the _Saint George_ and an order was delivered to
+Captain Wright to the effect that he must bring his vessel into the
+inner harbor, and, if he did not obey, she would be brought in by
+Italian gun-boats. Wright--of course--refused. So two big Italian
+warships sailed up upon either side of the _Saint George_, ran out
+their guns, and cast anchor.
+
+"I will not move for the entire Italian Government!" roared Captain
+Fortunatus. "I will appeal to the British consul for protection, as
+England is at war with France, not with Italy."
+
+Now was a pretty how-de-do. The Italians were furious with the
+stubborn privateersman for refusing to obey their orders, but, in
+truth, the way that he had deceived them in smuggling the extra cannon
+aboard--when under their own eyes--is what had roused their quick,
+Tuscan tempers. They thought that they had been sharp--well--here was
+a man who was even sharper than they, themselves. "Sapristi!" they
+cried. "To the jail weeth heem!"
+
+There was a terrific war of words between the British consul and the
+officials of that snug, little town. Then, the problem was suddenly
+solved, for, two powerful, English men-of-war dropped into the harbor:
+the _Jersey_ of sixty guns, and the _Isis_ mounting fifty. The
+authorities of Leghorn were told that they had orders from the Admiral
+of the British, Mediterranean fleet, to convoy any English
+merchantmen which might be there, and _to release the Saint George
+immediately_. Wright threw up his cap and cheered, but the officials
+of Leghorn said things which cannot be printed. Thus the _Saint
+George_ sailed upon her way, unmolested, and was soon taking more
+prizes upon the broad waters of the Mediterranean.
+
+The path of the privateer is not strewn with roses. Captain Fortunatus
+found that his reputation had gone abroad and it had not been to his
+credit, for, when he put in at Malta he was not allowed to buy
+provisions for his ship.
+
+"You are a beastly pirate!" said an official. "You cannot purchase
+anything here for your nefarious business."
+
+"I am a privateer!" answered Wright, with anger.
+
+"A privateer looks just the same to me as a pirate," sarcastically
+sneered the official. And Captain Fortunatus had to look elsewhere for
+provisions.
+
+As he cruised along, a big, French cruiser of thirty-eight guns chased
+the little _Saint George_ as if to gobble her up alive.
+
+"Boys! We shall now have some fun!" said Captain Wright. "I can sail
+faster than this Frenchy. Just watch me!"
+
+So, when the great beast of a French vessel came lumbering by, Wright
+played with her like a cat with a mouse; sailed around her in circles;
+shot guns at her rigging--just to aggravate the men from the sunny
+land--and then dipped his ensign and went careening away as if nothing
+had happened. No wonder that the French hated and despised this
+valiant mariner! Wouldn't you have done so if you had been a
+Frenchman?
+
+Thus Captain Fortunatus Wright continued upon his privateering, his
+fighting, and his cruising; bearing terror to his enemies but
+satisfaction to his friends. His name was as well known among those
+who sailed the Mediterranean as was that of the great Napoleon in
+later years, and it was just as cordially hated by those who opposed
+him. "The Ogre from Leghorn" was one of his titles, while some applied
+to him the choice epithet of "The Red Demon from Italy." At any rate
+this did not seem to worry the veteran sea-dog, who continued to take
+prizes and make money until the year 1757. Then he disappears from
+history, for the body of brave, resolute, stubborn, and valiant
+Captain Fortunatus Wright mysteriously and suddenly vanished from this
+earth.
+
+What was his end?
+
+Perhaps he perished while boarding the deck of some craft which was
+manned by men as gallant as his own. Perhaps he fell while stemming
+the advance of a crew of wild Frenchmen, eager for his blood and
+remembering the many victories which he had won over their countrymen.
+Perhaps, in the wild, wind-tossed wastes of the Mediterranean, his
+vessel--unable to cope with the elements--was hurled upon some jagged
+rock and sunk in the sobbing waters of the frothing sea. Perhaps he
+was captured, hurried to some dark prison, and died in one of those
+many dungeons which disgrace the cities of the Italian coast. Perhaps
+he was hanged for privateering.
+
+At any rate, nothing is known of the last days of this dauntless
+navigator save what can be gathered from an old grave in St. Peter's
+churchyard, in Liverpool.
+
+Here is the tombstone of the father of Fortunatus Wright, an
+inscription upon which, tells us that he was a master-mariner of
+Liverpool; that he defended his ship--on one occasion--most gallantly
+against two vessels of superior force; and that he died, not by the
+stroke of a boarding-pike, but safely in his own home. To this is
+added the information that:
+
+"Fortunatus Wright, his son, was always victorious, and humane to the
+vanquished. He was a constant terror to the enemies of his king and
+his country." That is all.
+
+
+
+
+THE DEEP
+
+
+    There's beauty in the deep:
+    The wave is bluer than the sky;
+    And though the lights shine bright on high,
+    More softly do the sea-gems glow
+    That sparkle in the depths below;
+    The rainbow tints are only made
+    When on the waters they are laid.
+    And sea and moon most sweetly shine
+    Upon the ocean's level brine.
+        There's beauty in the deep.
+
+    There's quiet in the deep.
+    Above, let tide and tempest rave,
+    And earth-born whirlwinds wake the wave;
+    Above, let care and fear contend
+    With sin and sorrow to the end:
+    Here, far beneath the tainted foam
+    That frets above our peaceful home,
+    We dream in joy, and walk in love,
+    Nor know the rage that yells above.
+        There's quiet in the deep.
+
+
+
+
+GEORGE WALKER
+
+WINNER OF THE GAMEST SEA FIGHT OF THE ENGLISH CHANNEL
+
+(1727-1777)
+
+
+    "'War is Hell,' said General William T. Sherman.
+    But,--better have war than bow to an inferior
+    nation."--_Doctrines of the Strenuous Life._
+
+
+GEORGE WALKER
+
+WINNER OF THE GAMEST SEA FIGHT OF THE ENGLISH CHANNEL
+
+(1727-1777)
+
+    "If Britain can but breed th' men,
+    Who are like Walker made,
+    She'll have no fear of danger,
+    When th' foe starts to invade.
+    When th' foe starts to invade, my boys,
+    An' creep along th' shore,
+    Where th' curling breakers wash th' cliffs,
+    Where th' breeching combers roar.
+    Then, lift a glass to Walker,
+    Of _Glorioso_ fame,
+    _May we ne'er forget his deed lads,_
+    _May we ne'er forget his name_."
+
+                    --_Chants from The Channel._--1769.
+
+
+It was the year 1739, and the good people of Charleston, South
+Carolina, were in a great state of agitation. Little knots of
+merchants, sailors, clerks, and dock-hands clustered about each other
+in the narrow streets. And, above the hub-bub of many voices, could be
+heard the solemn sentence, oft repeated:
+
+"The pirate is off the narrows! The pirate will soon be here!"
+
+Then all would gaze seaward with startled faces, and would murmur:
+
+"The pirate--the Spanish pirate will be here."
+
+As they thus stood irresolutely, a strongly-knit fellow came walking
+towards the dock-end. He was clad in gray; his face was deeply seamed
+by long exposure to the elements; and high top-boots of leather
+encased his lower limbs.
+
+"What ho! Good citizens," said he. "Do I understand that a Spaniard
+has frightened you all? Why, where's your courage?"
+
+"Courage?" answered a rotund-bodied merchant. "Of that we have a
+plenty. But we have no ship with which to combat this fellow--or
+fellows--for some of my skippers tell me that there are two of them
+off the coast, and that they've captured twenty trading vessels."
+
+The newcomer smiled.
+
+"I've got a staunch craft here," said he. "My name is Walker, and I
+hail from Bristol, England. My ship--the _Duke William_--mounts but
+twenty guns, and my crew is but of thirty-two, yet, I know that many
+of you gentlemen will volunteer your services, particularly if there
+is to be a nice little battle."
+
+"Hear! Hear!" came from all sides. "You're the boy for us! You're the
+chap we've been looking for! Hear! Hear!"
+
+It did not take long to increase the crew of the _Duke William_.
+Several of the wealthy colonists volunteered their services; many
+sailors were there who had been fighting on the Spanish Main. They
+were eager and anxious to join. So, before three days were out, the
+_Duke William_ spread her canvas for the open sea, carrying one
+hundred men and an additional twenty guns. Now--you see--she could put
+up an excellent fight with the average pirate-ship which cruised about
+the low-lying and sandy coast.
+
+Out into the broad expanse of the Atlantic glided the little barque
+and eagerly the mariners scanned the horizon for some signs of the
+pirate.
+
+"She's been hereabouts!" cried one stout seaman. "For several of my
+mess-mates saw her sails down near the channel islands. And her flag
+was surely black with th' skull an' cross-bones."
+
+"Must have heard that we were coming, then," growled Captain Walker,
+"for there's nothing in view."
+
+In an hour's time he thought differently, for, "Sail ho!" sounded from
+the forward deck, and there, far off to leeward, was the outline of a
+long, blackish vessel, bearing no flag at her mizzen or stern.
+
+Crowding on all canvas--for the breeze was light--the _Duke William_
+bore away towards her. "It must be the pirate!" said all, for, also
+crowding on all sail, the vessel headed up the coast, and did her
+utmost to get away.
+
+On, on, went pursuer and pursued; on, on, and the _Duke William_ began
+to draw dangerously close to the fleeing vessel, which now could be
+easily seen. She was a brigantine, carrying about eighteen guns, with
+a high stern and graceful lines. No flags waved from her mast-heads.
+
+Suddenly the scudding sea-warrior pointed her nose in-shore, ran
+around the corner of a sandy island, and bore away into a seemingly
+large lagoon upon the other side. The _Duke William_ followed, and, as
+she rounded a jutting sand-spit, there before her lay a little
+schooner, on the deck of which were seen several sailors, waving and
+gesticulating frantically. Behind, and on the shore, was an
+earth-work, from which several cannon pointed their black muzzles. On
+a flag-pole in the centre, waved a Spanish flag, and, beneath it, a
+black ensign upon which was the skull-and-cross-bones.
+
+"It's the pirate stronghold!" cried several, at once. "We're in for a
+tight skirmish!"
+
+But Captain Walker only smiled.
+
+The brigantine, which he had been following, now rounded-to, opened
+her port-holes, and fired a couple of shots toward the pursuing craft.
+At the same time an English flag was hoisted on the schooner, and a
+fellow on her deck sang out through a speaking trumpet.
+
+"Thank Heaven you have come! We were only captured two days ago!
+Hurrah for the English flag!"
+
+The _Duke William_ kept on after the brigantine, her mixed crew
+yelling with joy, now that they were to have an action.
+
+_Bang! Bang!_
+
+Her two forward guns spoke, and a shot went ripping through one of the
+foresails of the pirate.
+
+This was enough for the fighting spirit of those who sailed the
+Spanish Main. For, putting about, the brigantine scudded through a
+narrow channel, known only to her skipper (for no one else could have
+followed without grounding upon a sand-spit), and was soon running
+away upon the opposite side of a low-lying island, now flaunting the
+pirate-flag from her halyards.
+
+"She's gone!" sadly remarked the gallant Captain Walker, "but we can
+capture the gun-battery. Make ready to go ashore, if needed!"
+
+Steering for the coast, the guns of the _Duke William_ opened upon the
+sandy barricade, and shot after shot was soon making the dirt and
+gravel fly in every direction:
+
+_Poom! Poom! Cu-poom!_
+
+The cannon in the earth-work next began to speak, and, it was
+apparent, from the strange noises which some of them made, that they
+were full of rust.
+
+_Cu-Poom! Cu-Pow! Chuck-chuck-cu-swash!_ they roared, and a few balls
+began to whistle about the spars of the _Duke William_.
+
+There were some accurate marksmen upon the deck of the British vessel,
+and, as she lay broadside to the fortification, one well-aimed shot
+struck a cannon and dismounted it; while another shattered the
+flag-pole and brought down the flag with a crash.
+
+"Hurrah!" shouted the men from Charleston. "Now we'll even up with
+these cursed pirates for all the damage that they've done us. Now,
+we'll teach them not to ravage our coasts and catch our merchant
+ships!"
+
+_Cu-whow!_ barked the rust-caked guns of the barricade. "_Go-slow!
+Go-back! Go-home!_"
+
+To this a full broadside roared, and the balls tore the top of the
+earth-work to shreds.
+
+"Now let thirty men take to the boats!" commanded Captain Walker.
+"Steer for the beach and rush the barricade with pistols and
+cutlasses. I don't believe that there are more than a dozen men inside
+the earth-work."
+
+"Huzzah!" was the cheerful answer to this order, and, in a few
+moments, several boats were racing for the beach, each eager to be the
+first ashore.
+
+As they approached, the antiquated guns on the sand-spit became
+strangely silent, and, as the eager raiders rushed valiantly upon the
+pirate fortress, no shots were fired at them to impede their progress.
+With a wild yell they leaped over the side of the barricade, only to
+find it deserted; for whatever had been the force that had fired these
+cannon, it had taken to the brush as the English seamen drew near.
+Only a few charges of ammunition were there, so it was plainly evident
+that the pirates (whatever their strength might have been) could only
+have held out for a few more rounds.
+
+"Hurrah! Hurrah!" shouted the raiders. "The fort is ours!"
+
+"And it's a sorry victory," said one of the crew, "for there's nothing
+here worth the having, except the cannon, and they couldn't stand more
+than two more shots without blowing up. I call it a pretty hollow
+success."
+
+In spite of this the men of Charleston were well pleased. They had
+dispersed the pirates; taken their fort; and had re-captured a
+schooner which had recently been taken only a few miles from the
+harbor-mouth of that fair, southern city.
+
+When they sailed into their home port they received a tremendous
+ovation. The bells were rung in all the churches; shots were fired;
+trumpets were blown.
+
+"We could fall in with nothing that would stay for us upon the seas,"
+said Captain Walker, modestly; but, in spite of this, he was treated
+like a great hero. All the influential persons in the Colony offered
+to sign a request that he might be given the command of a king's ship;
+but this he declined. So they tendered him an immense tract of land if
+he would remain in that country and drive off the pirates when next
+they became too bold and daring; but this he also declined, and stuck
+to his ship. In a few weeks he sailed for the Barbadoes, and then to
+England, in company with three unarmed trading-vessels which placed
+themselves under his convoy. The good people of Charleston bade him a
+sad and affectionate farewell.
+
+George Walker sailed forth smiling, but he was now to have far more
+trouble than his little affair with the pirates.
+
+When half way to England, a terrific gale struck the _Duke William_
+and her convoys, which separated them by many miles, and made this
+good vessel (which had dispersed the pirates) leak like a sieve. The
+gale continued in its violence, while Captain Walker was so ill that
+the ship's surgeon despaired of his life. But note how grit and nerve
+pulled him through!
+
+On the second day of the tempest, a sailor rushed into his cabin,
+crying:
+
+"Captain! Captain! We'll founder, for the water is pouring into our
+bottom by the hogshead. We're gone for unless we take to the boats!"
+
+Captain Walker was not the man to leave his ship in such a crisis.
+
+"Throw all of the guns overboard, but two!" he ordered. "We need those
+in order to signal for help if a vessel comes near us. That will
+lighten us so that we can still float awhile."
+
+This was done, but, as the last cannon shot into the waves, a sailor
+burst into his cabin with the intelligence that the men had prepared
+to desert in the tenders.
+
+"Carry me on deck!" roared the resolute captain. "I'll give these
+cowards a piece of my mind."
+
+Three sailors seized him and bore him aloft, where he remonstrated
+with his men in the strongest language possible. In spite of this,
+many clustered about one of the boats.
+
+"The ship's a-sinking," cried one. "She won't stand up for an hour."
+
+As he spoke, the welcome sound of, "Sail ho!" arose, above the wash
+and roar of the angry water.
+
+Sure enough, a ship was bearing down upon them, but, to the dismay of
+all, she hastily hauled off again.
+
+Captain Walker was astonished. "She thinks us an armed enemy," said
+he. "Fire a gun, men, and cut the mizzen-mast in two, so that it falls
+overboard. That will show the stranger that we're a friend in
+distress."
+
+His orders were immediately obeyed and the mast came ripping and
+tearing over the side. A gun also roared, and the stranger, now
+convinced that the ship was a friend, and not a foe, came bearing down
+upon the crippled _Duke William_, to the rescue.
+
+"She's one of our own convoy!" shouted a seaman, waving his hand
+joyfully. And such she proved to be. Captain Walker had saved his crew
+by his foresight and quickness of decision. Had he thrown all of his
+cannon overboard he would have had no gun with which to hail the
+stranger, and, had he not cut away his own mast, she would have gone
+away, fearful that he was an enemy. Three cheers for the brave and
+thoughtful Captain Walker! He reached England, at last, but he and his
+men were in a sorry plight, for the vessel which had rescued them was
+almost as unseaworthy as their own, which sank in a great whirl of
+eddying foam, not half an hour after they had left her. Thus ended the
+career of the good ship which had chased all of the pirates away from
+the harbor of Charleston. A sad fate, indeed, for such a gallant
+craft.
+
+Captain Walker was not long idle, for he soon took charge of a
+brigantine trading to the Baltic Sea, in spite of the fact that war
+had been declared with France, and the privateers and gun-boats of
+that nation hovered in his path, eager and anxious to secure some
+English merchant vessel, as a prize.
+
+"I see that these fellows mean to catch me, if they can," said the
+keen-witted mariner. "So I intend to be ready for them if I do not
+happen to be near an English man-of-warsman when they come sailing
+by."
+
+He therefore shipped a number of wooden guns, which were painted
+black, so that, at a distance, they looked exactly like the real
+thing. Upon his vessel were only six cannon, so when--a short time
+afterwards--he was chased by a French privateer off the coast of
+Scotland--he had an excellent opportunity to "bluff" the bold
+marauder.
+
+As the Frenchman drew near, the vessel which Captain Walker was on
+kept steadily upon her way, and, through his glass, the cautious
+mariner saw that his pursuer carried fully twenty guns.
+
+"Run out our dummy cannon!" he ordered.
+
+Out were thrust the black, wooden muzzles, twenty-five in number,
+and--as the Frenchman was now within shooting distance--the English
+boat was luffed into the wind. In a second the British jack, ensign,
+and man-of-war's pendant were hoisted, and a gun was fired across the
+bow of the arrogant privateer.
+
+"Come on!" shouted bold Walker. "I am waiting for you!"
+
+But the enemy did not come on. Instead of this, she turned tail in a
+hurry, filled away, and made off as fast as a freshening breeze would
+drive her.
+
+"Ha! Ha! Ha!" laughed the genial, English skipper. "Bluffed by a lot
+of wooden guns. Ha! Ha! Ha!"
+
+And all of his sailors gave a rousing cheer.
+
+This was indeed good fortune, but Captain Walker was soon to meet
+with some fortune which was quite the reverse.
+
+It was the year 1744 and the doughty sailor had accepted the command
+of the privateer _Mars_, of twenty-six guns and one hundred and thirty
+men, which sailed from London for a cruise in the English channel.
+With her was the _Boscawen_, another privateer with about the same
+number of guns, but with a crew of fully one hundred and eighty. They
+soon had an adventure which was not all to the liking of bold George
+Walker.
+
+At midnight, late in December, the two privateers were running near
+the coast of France. There was a heavy mist and rain, also a fresh
+breeze, so the steersmen could not well see what way they were going.
+Suddenly the hulls of two large vessels loomed up in the blackness,
+and the twinkling lights from their port-holes shone upon the dripping
+sides of the British privateers. Voices came through the mist--French
+voices--so it was apparent that the ships were not friends.
+
+"Those fellows are showing much alarm," said Captain Walker, a few
+moments later. "I therefore believe that the vessels are full of
+treasure. We'll hang on until daylight, at any rate, and see whether
+or no we cannot capture a rich cargo."
+
+Next morning, at eight o'clock, the fog suddenly lifted,
+disclosing--not two treasure ships--but two French men-of-war; one
+bearing seventy-four guns, the other sixty-four.
+
+"Egad!" ejaculated the startled Walker. "We're in a hornet's nest! I
+guess we'd better run for it!"
+
+The Frenchmen, however, were both treasure-ships, as well as
+men-of-war; both bound from the West Indies, with cargoes worth about
+four millions sterling ($20,000,000), which they were carrying into
+the harbor of Brest. They were not in good fighting trim, as their
+heavy cargoes made them low in the water, and very unwieldy. It is
+probable that they would not have attacked the two Englishmen, had not
+the captain of the _Boscawen_ turned tail and fled, leaving the _Mars_
+all alone.
+
+"Did you ever see such a coward?" cried Captain Walker, with heat.
+"Boys! We're in for it now!"
+
+Sure enough, they were: for the Frenchmen saw that only one enemy was
+left, and immediately sent the sixty-four gun ship--the _Fleuron_--in
+pursuit.
+
+Walker turned his vessel about and clapped on all sail, but the large
+gun-boat quickly overhauled him.
+
+"Gentlemen!" said Captain Walker, as she rapidly approached. "I do not
+mean to be so rash as to attempt a regular engagement with so superior
+a force; all I ask of you is to confide in me and my orders, to get
+away--if possible--without striking our flag; and, be assured, I shall
+not call upon you to fight unless there is excellent opportunity for
+success. The ship which pursues us is certainly the better sailer of
+the two French men-of-war; yet, if we have good fortune with our
+shots, we may bring down a topmast or yard; or hurt her rigging so as
+to retard her pursuit. We may yet get entirely clear. So, my
+hearties, do not lose your nerve!"
+
+These wise remarks were greeted with a "Hip! Hip! Hooray!"
+
+Now was a lively chase. The _Mars_ hoisted the English flag, opened
+with her stern guns, and put on all available canvas. But she was not
+a fast sailer, and gradually but surely, the _Fleuron_ crept up on one
+side, and the other French man-of-war upon the other. She, too, had
+entered the chase.
+
+Finally the French vessels had the British privateer directly between
+them.
+
+"The jig is up!" cried Captain Walker, sadly. "Gentlemen, we do not
+strike to one ship only. Haul down the colors!"
+
+Down came the proud ensign, the sails were lowered, and the gallant
+Walker entered a boat, in order that he might be put aboard the
+_Fleuron_ and give up his sword. When he arrived on the deck he found
+the French captain by no means in the politest of humors.
+
+After receiving the weapon of the vanquished privateersman, the
+Frenchman thundered in very good English:
+
+"How dare you fire against a force like mine in so small a ship?
+Sirrah, you must be stark mad. I compliment you upon your lack of
+judgment."
+
+Captain Walker was nettled.
+
+"Sir," he replied, with warmth, "if you will look at my commission you
+will find that I had as good a right to fight as you, yourself, had.
+Furthermore, if my force had not been so inferior to yours, I would
+have shown you more civil treatment on board my own ship, after I had
+captured you."
+
+The Frenchman winced.
+
+"How many of your bushwhackers have I killed?" said he.
+
+"None at all, sir!" replied the Englishman.
+
+"Then, sir, you should be well ashamed of your scurvy fighting. For
+you have killed six of my brave men and have wounded several with
+pieces of glass. Pray, when, sir, did the rules of war allow glass to
+be used as ammunition?"
+
+"You lie," cried Captain Walker. "No glass was used by my men."
+
+The Frenchman curbed his anger.
+
+"Then what was it?" said he.
+
+Here a British seaman interrupted.
+
+"If it would please your French Majesty," he said, with a bow, "I
+reckon I know what it was that you took for glass. The captain of one
+of our stern guns, when he found out that we must surrender, sir, took
+about sixteen shillings from his pocket, saying: 'Sooner than let
+these French rascals plunder me of all I've got in the world, I'll see
+what a bribe can do!' So he wrapped the money up in a bag, sir,
+crammed it into a gun, and let fly at your deck. Faith, your men were
+lucky to be struck by good, British coin!"
+
+At this all had a good laugh, and the unpleasantness between the
+French captain and George Walker was at an end. The privateersman was
+treated with the greatest courtesy and was made as comfortable as
+could be.
+
+The action took place on Friday and the ships were headed for Brest,
+about three days' sail away. At daybreak on Sunday morning, four large
+boats were sighted astern, and it did not take long to realize that
+they were coming up pretty fast _and were flying the English colors_.
+
+"Hurray!" shouted Captain Walker. "No French prison for me. Hurray!"
+
+The English squadron gained steadily. The boats grew nearer and
+nearer, while Walker's hopes soared higher and higher. Finally, the
+French officer, who was in charge of his own boat--the _Mars_--put his
+helm up and ran to leeward, hoping to draw one of the British vessels
+after him. He was successful, for a seventy-gun ship made after him,
+chased him for several miles, and finally re-captured the English
+privateer. The other ships kept on and drew closer and closer.
+
+Seeing that an action would soon take place, the French captain
+politely requested Walker and his officers to go below.
+
+"Messieurs!" said he. "There will soon be a leetle affair in which the
+balls will fly. You will be better off in the hold, where they cannot
+reach you so easily as up here."
+
+"Sir!" replied the English privateer-captain. "I go below with the
+greatest of pleasure, for I am now certain of my liberty. Au revoir!"
+
+"Do not count your chickens before they hatch!" cried the Frenchman,
+after his retreating form.
+
+The British vessels were the _Hampton Court_ of seventy guns, and the
+_Sunderland_ and _Dreadnought_ of sixty each; so, being three to two,
+they should have had a fairly easy victory over the Frenchmen. But the
+_Sunderland_ lost a spar overboard, and dropped astern; so it left but
+two to two: an even affair.
+
+Alas for gallant Captain Walker! Although the Englishmen came near the
+two French men-of-war, they hung about without firing a shot; allowed
+the Frenchmen to sail on unmolested, and thus carry their
+astonishingly rich treasure into Brest, amid wild and enthusiastic
+cheering of their crews, and groans of disappointment from the English
+prisoners.
+
+Yet these same prisoners had little cause to complain of their
+treatment when they arrived at Brest; for they were landed at once,
+and the captain and officers were liberated on parole. The French also
+treated them very well and invited the valorous George Walker to many
+a repast, where they laughed at the narrow shave that he had had from
+death,--for they had left the _Fleuron_ none too soon.
+
+On the day following the landing, Captain Walker was seated in the
+office of a counting-house, near the dock-end, and was writing a
+letter to the captain of the _Fleuron_, requesting him to send him his
+letter-of-credit, which was in a tin box in a cabin of the French
+man-of-war, when a terrible _Boom!_ sounded upon his ears.
+
+A sailor came running past the open window.
+
+"The _Fleuron_ has blown up!" he cried. "The _Fleuron_ is a total
+loss!"
+
+Captain Walker dashed into the street; to the end of the quay; and
+there a sad spectacle greeted his eager gaze. Strewn about upon the
+surface of the water were broken spars; pieces of sail; and the débris
+of a once gallant man-of-war. The remnants of the _Fleuron_ were
+burning brightly.
+
+The captain of the French ship came running by. "Helas!" he wailed. "A
+careless gunner has destroyed my gallant vessel. Helas! Helas!"
+
+It was too true. Four or five powder barrels had been left in the
+magazine for saluting purposes, and quite a little loose powder had
+been allowed to lie upon the floor. Some careless seamen had gone down
+into the hold with a decrepit, old lantern. The handle broke, the
+flame set fire to the loose powder,--and that was the end of the
+gallant ship _Fleuron_. She burned to the water's edge and then went
+down to the bottom with a dull, sizzling hiss; while the treasure also
+disappeared. Later on, divers secured a part of it, but much that was
+of value was never recovered.
+
+Captain Walker did not long grieve over the loss of his
+letter-of-credit, left on board the ill-starred _Fleuron_, for he was
+exchanged, after a few weeks, and was sent back to England with his
+crew. This was in 1745. He lost no time in reporting to the owners of
+the _Mars_, and so well did they think of him, that in a short while
+they sent him upon another privateering venture aboard the _Boscawen_,
+which, as you remember, had run away from the _Mars_, after she had
+fallen in with the two French men-of-war. Now occurred his greatest
+sea-fight.
+
+The _Boscawen_ had been built in France and had been a prize, taken
+at sea. She mounted twenty-eight guns (nine-pounders), but Walker
+added two more, and shipped a crew of three hundred and fourteen men.
+Without waiting for the _Mars_, the stout sea-dog put out to sea on
+April 19th, 1745, steering for the shores of France where cruised the
+prize-laden clipper ships, and the unwelcome men-of-warsmen. The
+British privateersman cruised about for a whole month without any
+luck, and, falling in with the privateer _Sheerness_, joined with her
+in a little run in search of inoffensive merchantmen. At daybreak a
+cry came from the forward watch,--
+
+"Sails ho! Sails ho! Off the starboard quarter! There're eight o' them
+an' heading no' east."
+
+Both the privateers started in pursuit, but the _Sheerness_ was left
+far astern, as the _Boscawen_ was a speedy sailer. The latter drew
+near the eight scudding sail, which suddenly veered about and formed a
+line, awaiting an attack. The _Sheerness_ was way astern. Would
+Captain Walker advance?
+
+It was eight against one, and there was no certainty what was the
+armament of the vessels now standing in a row, all ready for action.
+The faces of the officers on the _Boscawen_ showed anxiety and
+suspense, but there was no shadow of fear upon the countenance of
+Captain Walker, who now addressed them in the following words:
+
+"Gentlemen, I hope that you do not think the number of prizes before
+us too many. Be assured, my good friends, that by their being armed,
+they have something on board of them that is worth defending. I take
+them to be merchantmen with letters of marque (privateers), and
+homeward bound. Without doubt we shall meet with some opposition, in
+which I know that you will exhibit your usual courage. We must conquer
+these superior numbers by superior skill. Be cool. Be careful that you
+aim correctly, for, as we shall be pressed on all sides, let every man
+do his best to engage the enemy that he sees before him.
+
+"In a word, Gentlemen, if you will put full confidence in me for
+leading you on, I will pawn my life upon the fact that I will bring
+you off victorious."
+
+"Hurray! Hurray for Walker!" came the reassuring response.
+
+"Then go to your quarters, my hearties! Fight like Britishers of old,
+and all will be well!" cried the brave mariner.
+
+Like a hornet among a group of snap-dragons, the _Boscawen_ now sailed
+into the centre of the enemy's line.
+
+"Do not fire until I give the word!" cried Captain Walker, as the salt
+spray kicked and splashed about the bow of the on-coming _Boscawen_.
+"Then hammer away like anvils on a sledge!"
+
+Sixty men were ill on board the stout little English privateer, but
+all save three crawled on deck in order to render what assistance they
+could in pointing and handling the guns.
+
+Now was a glorious fight.
+
+_Bang! Crash! Z-i-i-p!_
+
+The French privateers were hammering away as the Englishman approached
+and their balls cut and tore through the rigging, damaging the mizzen
+topsail, and splitting a topmast. Steering straight for the largest
+vessel, Walker waited until he was within close range and then gave
+the order:
+
+"Fire, and hull her if you can."
+
+_Poof! Cr-a-a-sh!_
+
+A blinding broadside rolled from the port of the _Boscawen_, and the
+solid shot bit and tore the stranger like a terrier mouthing a rat.
+
+The valiant little privateer was now in the midst of the enemy. Two
+were to right of her; two to the left of her; one across her bow; and
+one across her stern. Two of the eight decamped, at this juncture;
+making the odds six, instead of eight, to one.
+
+"_Pow! Pow! Cu-boom!_"
+
+The vessel astern was banging away like a Banshee, but a sudden
+_crash_ from the stern guns so badly damaged her that she hauled off.
+It was now five to one.
+
+"Keep it up, boys!" cried Walker, above the roar and rattle of the
+fray. "You're doing splendidly. You all deserve statues in the temple
+of fame."
+
+"Huzzah!" shouted his men. "Hurray for the _Boscawen_. Down with the
+Frenchmen!"
+
+"_Cu-pow! Boom! Boom!_" roared the cannon, while the broadsides from
+the _Boscawen_ were delivered without either confusion or disorder.
+The five were sparring gamely, but they were lightly armed, with only
+a few guns to each, so the thirty nine-pounders on board the English
+privateer were about an equal match for the greater numbers of the
+foe.
+
+Thus the fight raged for an hour, when, suddenly, the ensign upon the
+mast of the French flagship was seen to flutter to the deck. Ten
+minutes later a cry arose from a sailor aboard the _Boscawen_:
+
+"Look, Captain, she's sinking!"
+
+Sure enough, the accurate fire from the British privateer had so
+riddled the hull of the Frenchman, that she fast filled with water,
+and sank, stern first, her men escaping in their small boats.
+
+"That's one less, anyway," mused Captain Walker.
+
+The remaining four continued the fight, but the little privateer was
+too much for them. Around and around she veered, broadsiding with
+astonishing accuracy, and knocking the spars about like a foot-ball
+team kicking a ball. "_Pow! Pow!_" the guns roared, and the men cried,
+"Remember the oath of our captain! Let's take 'em all!"
+
+It began to look as if they would do it, too; for, now upon the
+starboard quarter appeared the white sails of a vessel, and, as she
+approached, a joyous cheer arose from the deck of the _Boscawen_, for
+it was the _Sheerness_.
+
+"Now we'll get 'em! Now we'll get 'em!" yelled the British sailors,
+and they plied their guns with renewed activity and care.
+
+Down came the flag upon one of the Frenchmen, and--in a few
+moments--down came another. Then, as the _Sheerness_ rolled closer,
+two more ensigns fluttered to the deck. There was but one Frenchman
+left, and she made off, with the newcomer hot in pursuit.
+
+"Hurray! Hurray! Hurray!" The sailors on board the _Boscawen_ were
+fairly jumping for joy. "Hurray! Hurray! Hurray!" they yelled.
+
+And well might they cheer, for had they not won one of the pluckiest
+sea-fights of all history? The enemy is said to have had one hundred
+and thirteen killed and drowned, while the casualties of the
+_Boscawen_ amounted to but one killed and seven wounded. "And this,"
+says an old chronicler of the spirited affair, "was due to the fact
+that the British privateer had a bulwark of elm-planking, man-high,
+around her deck. It was so fashioned that there was a step on which
+the marines could mount and fire, and then come down in order to load.
+Furthermore, this elm-wood did not splinter; but kept out the bullets,
+and closed up around the holes made by shot."
+
+At any rate, it was a glorious victory, and when--a few hours
+later--the _Sheerness_ came back with the other French vessel a prize,
+the total capture amounted to six vessels: homeward bound traders from
+Martinique, provided with letters of marque, and with about six guns
+each. Their crews were undoubtedly undisciplined and ill-used to
+shooting, else how could they have done so badly with the _Boscawen_?
+
+The prizes were headed for the English coast and arrived at King's
+Road, Bristol, in a few days, where a swarm of eager sight-seers
+crowded about the shattered craft.
+
+"My! My!" said many. "This Walker is another Drake. He is a valiant
+soul!"
+
+And so thought the British Admiralty, for they sent him a letter (upon
+his reporting to them) which read:
+
+"We cannot too highly congratulate and commend you upon the
+seamanship and courage which you have displayed in the capture of
+these French vessels. Your daring and ability should always make your
+name one to be revered by those Britishers who follow the sea. May
+your future career upon the ocean but add to the laurels which you
+have already won!"
+
+And were they not right?
+
+Seldom has such a feat been accomplished, and seldom has one vessel
+come off victorious against such odds. If you love a game warrior,
+cheer for George Walker, for he deserves it. If you are an admirer of
+the fighting quality in a man, give three times three for the
+privateersman who had the nerve to sail into eight vessels,--and won
+out.
+
+So much, indeed, did the British owners of the privateer vessels think
+of Captain Walker, that he was now placed in command of four ships,
+known as "The Royal Family of Privateers," for each was named after
+some member of the English royal family. These were the _Princess
+Amelia_, of twenty-four guns and one hundred and fifty men: the
+_Prince Frederick_ of twenty-six guns and two hundred and sixty men:
+the _Duke_ of twenty guns and two hundred and sixty men; and the _King
+George_, of thirty-two guns and three hundred men. This last boat was
+commanded by Walker, himself; the _Duke_ by Edward Dottin, a staunch
+sailor; the _Prince Frederick_ by Hugh Bromedge; and the _Princess
+Amelia_ by Robert Denham. The entire squadron carried nearly a
+thousand men and one hundred and two guns, so, you see, that it could
+do quite a little damage to the enemies of Merrie England.
+
+Sailing in May, 1746, the squadron soon met with hard luck, for the
+_Prince Frederick_ ran upon a rock in Bristol Channel, and had to be
+left behind; for she was badly punctured below the water-line. The
+three others sailed for the coast of France, and--a week later--had a
+startling little adventure.
+
+A heavy fog lay over the sobbing water, and the three English
+sea-robbers were gliding along within easy gun-shot of each other,
+when it was evident that they were near some other vessels. Voices
+came out of the mist, lights flashed (for it was near the close of
+day), and the wash of water could be heard, as the waves beat against
+solid oak planking.
+
+"Egad!" whispered Captain Walker to one of his lieutenants. "Listen,
+my boy, and tell me whether these voices are French, Spanish, or
+English."
+
+The lieutenant held a speaking-trumpet to his ear.
+
+The _swish_, _swish_ of water came to the eager senses of the anxious
+privateersman. That was all!
+
+Captain Walker passed the word around among his men to be absolutely
+silent, and, as he strained his hearing, in order to catch the
+faintest sound from the strangers, suddenly he heard the sentence,
+
+"Pressy! Chantez une chanson. Je vais me coucher." (Sing a song,
+Pressy. I am going to bed.)
+
+In a second the gallant Walker knew that, as once before, he was in
+the midst of some French vessels.
+
+"Caught!" he whispered. "And I believe that they're men-of-warsmen!
+Now we're in a pretty pickle!"
+
+His officers scowled.
+
+"I know that they're men-o'-warsmen," said one, "for, just now, the
+fog lifted for a second, and I could make out--by their lights--that
+they were large gun-ships."
+
+Captain Walker looked dejected.
+
+"The deuce," said he.
+
+But he soon regained his composure.
+
+"Put every light out on board," he ordered. "These fellows see us, for
+I hear them bearing over our way."
+
+Sure enough, from the swashing of water and glimmer of lights in the
+fog, it could be seen that the great lumbering men-of-war were closing
+in upon the privateer. But the Frenchmen had a human eel to capture
+and he was equal to the occasion.
+
+"Bring up a couple of casks from below!" cried Captain Walker. They
+were soon on deck.
+
+"Now put a lantern in one and lash them together," he continued.
+"We'll alter our course and skip, while the Frenchies will follow this
+light."
+
+The ruse worked magnificently, and, when morning dawned and the bright
+sun burned off the fog, the French men-of-war found themselves
+hovering around a couple of old casks with a lantern tied to the top;
+while Captain Walker in the _King George_ was scudding along the
+French coast, many miles away. At which the French captain remarked,
+
+"Sapristi! L'oiseau s'est envolé." (Egad! The bird has flown!)
+
+Not long after this "The Royal Family of Privateers" took some
+valuable prizes, and, having chased a small, French merchantman into
+the bay of Safia, in Morocco, Captain Walker determined to capture her
+at night, by sending a party against her in the long-boats. A second
+lieutenant was put in charge of this venture, and, at dark three
+tenders, crowded with armed seamen and propelled by muffled oars,
+started after the prize. As they neared the merchantman a hail came
+through the blackness:
+
+"Qui est la?" (Who is there?)
+
+No answer was made to this, but the boats kept straight on.
+
+_Crash! Bang!_
+
+A gun roared in the faces of the privateers, and shots came falling
+around them like hail-stones,--but still they kept on.
+
+Again _Crash! Crash! Crash!_
+
+The Frenchmen were plying their guns right willingly, but the English
+sailors could not be stopped, and they neared the vessel under
+vigorous sweeps of the oars. The lieutenant in command was badly
+wounded, and was forced to lie in the bottom of his boat, but--in a
+few moments--the tenders were alongside the merchantman, and the
+sailors, with a wild yell, were clambering to her deck. There was a
+fierce hand-to-hand struggle, but nothing would gainsay the rush of
+the British tars. In twenty minutes the fight was all over and the
+vessel was towed out of the bay, in triumph, next morning. As she was
+a smart, little craft she was turned into a privateer in place of the
+_Prince Frederick_ (which had run aground) and was christened the
+_Prince George_.
+
+The "Royal Family" continued upon its way, made many captures,
+and--after eight months--put into the harbor of Lisbon with prizes and
+prize-money amounting to £220,000 (about $1,100,000). So you can see
+that privateering was a very lucrative trade in those days, when
+successfully pursued. Not a single man had been killed aboard the
+little fleet, but many had been severely wounded. The ships were
+overhauled, refitted, and, being joined by the _Prince Frederick_,
+amounted to six in number, for the vessel captured in the harbor of
+Safia had been converted into a full-fledged privateer. Now was to be
+one of the most gruelling sea-fights in which George Walker ever
+engaged.
+
+In the month of October the squadron was cruising off of Lagos Bay, on
+the coast of Portugal, when a large sail was sighted at about five in
+the morning. The _Princess Amelia_ was at anchor in the harbor of
+Lagos, so Captain Walker sent a small sloop (a recent capture) after
+her to tell her to "Hurry up and get under way," while he gave signal
+to the other vessels to chase the stranger at once. All started after
+the foreigner, who stood to the northward and could be seen to be
+crowding on all possible canvas. There were four ships in this merry
+little chase, but two of them--the _Duke_ and the _Prince
+George_--dropped out, after about an hour's run. They either could
+not get up, or else their captains grew tired of the affair.
+
+On, on, went the other privateers, and--at about noon--Walker drew
+near the fugitive, in the _King George_. The _Prince Frederick_, with
+her twenty-six guns, was still some distance away, but Walker kept
+after the stranger, although he now saw that she was a large
+vessel,--much more powerful than the _King George_, with her
+thirty-two guns and three hundred men. He was rapidly nearing the big
+fellow, when it grew suddenly calm, so that neither could move.
+
+At this moment an ejaculation of astonishment burst from the lips of
+some of the officers aboard the saucy _King George_.
+
+"She's a seventy-four!" cried several. "We're in a tight hole!"
+
+Sure enough, the pursued hoisted her colors, ran out her guns, and
+showed herself to be a man-of-warsman carrying seventy-four cannon:
+over double the amount of armament aboard the plucky _King George_.
+
+"I can't make out whether she's Spanish or Portuguese," said Captain
+Walker, gazing carefully at her drooping flag.
+
+The colors hung down in the dead calm, and it was impossible to tell
+whether they were Spanish or Portuguese; for the two ensigns--at that
+period--were very similar.
+
+The sea-warriors drifted along, eyeing each other, for about an hour,
+when the stranger ran in her lower deck-guns and closed her
+port-holes.
+
+"She's a treasure ship," cried a sailor. "And she won't fight if she
+can avoid it!"
+
+Walker turned to his officers and asked,
+
+"Gentlemen, shall we fight her?"
+
+"Aye! Aye!" came from all. "She's afraid of us!"
+
+The vessel, in fact, was a treasure ship which had been recently
+chased by some English men-of-war and had already landed her treasure,
+to the value of about one million sterling (about $5,000,000). A
+slight breeze sprang up, at about five in the afternoon, and the big
+ship kept on her course; the gamey _King George_ following, while the
+white sails of the _Prince Frederick_ were far astern, as the breeze
+had not yet struck her. So they swashed along, the Englishmen anxious
+for a fight, and a chance to overhaul the supposed treasure which the
+stranger was carrying. At eight o'clock the _King George_ was struck
+by a favorable puff of wind, and came quite close to the seventy-four.
+It was time for battle.
+
+"What ship is that?" hailed Captain Walker, in the Portuguese tongue.
+He was cleared for action and his men were all lying down at their
+quarters. There was no answer to his challenge.
+
+"What ship is that?" he asked again; this time in English.
+
+A voice came back,--also in English,
+
+"And what ship may you be?"
+
+"The _King George_."
+
+_Crash! B-oo-m!_
+
+A thundering broadside belched from the side of the seventy-four,
+dismounting two guns on the port side of the _King George_, and
+bringing the main topsail yard crashing to the deck. It was now bright
+moonlight, and in its radiance the flag of the stranger was seen to
+blow straight out, disclosing her nationality to be Spanish. She was
+the _Glorioso_: a strong and powerful vessel, ably officered and ably
+manned. She towered above the little _King George_ like a
+church-spire, and her broadsides now sputtered with great regularity.
+
+_Crash! Crash! Crash!_
+
+The sprightly little _King George_ kept after the big warship like a
+sword-fish chasing a whale. She drew so close that some burning wads
+from the Spanish guns set fire to her mainsail. Continually hoping
+that the _Prince Frederick_ would come up, the gallant Walker hammered
+away at the _Glorioso_ with furious precision, and drove her so near
+the rocks off Cape Vincent that the castle guns began to play upon the
+two grappling warriors of the sea. The British sea-captain fought and
+commanded with "a calmness peculiar to himself" and his example
+secured order and discipline even in the thickest of the fight, when
+the mainsail was set on fire. He was magnificent in action.
+
+So the unequal struggle kept on. By half-past ten the _King George_
+had been so severely damaged aloft that she could not have escaped if
+she had tried. All the braces were shot away; the foremast was quite
+disabled; and the mainmast was badly splintered. Battered, torn, and
+distressed she kept banging away at the great, towering Spaniard;
+while the big fellow ceased her fire somewhat, and ever now and again
+let go a broadside, like the blow from the mouth of a huge whale. It
+sounded like, _Chu-spow!_
+
+[Illustration: ACTION BETWEEN THE "GLORIOSO" AND THE "KING GEORGE" AND
+"PRINCE FREDERICK" UNDER GEORGE WALKER.]
+
+But hurrah! hurrah! The _Prince Frederick_ had at last caught the
+breeze, and came bouncing by, her little pennons fluttering like so
+many silk stockings on a clothes-line.
+
+"Are you all well?" shouted her commander, as he neared the splintered
+_King George_. "You look as if you're sinking."
+
+Captain Walker came to the rail with the speaking-trumpet in his hand.
+
+"One killed and fifteen wounded," he answered. "Now sail after that
+Spanish villain and take her, in revenge for all the damage that she
+has done me. She's a treasure ship."
+
+"All right," Captain Dottin called back, and he kept on after the
+_Glorioso_, which was now rapidly drawing away.
+
+By the bright moonlight it could be seen that the _Duke_ and the
+_Prince George_ were also approaching. And, when they came close
+enough to the maimed and battered _King George_, her captain called to
+them, "to keep on after the Spaniard, and catch the rascal." They
+continued on their way, and, at daybreak the three vessels could be
+seen, through the glass, as they closed in upon the Spanish game-cock
+from three sides. "She'll be ours before nightfall," said Captain
+Walker, chuckling.
+
+The headmost ship, apparently the _Duke_ under Captain Dottin, could
+now be seen to hotly engage the _Glorioso_, which greatly displeased
+the captain of the dismantled _King George_.
+
+"Dottin will fire away all of his cartridges," said he, turning to a
+few of his officers, who clustered around him. "He will shoot them all
+off at too great a distance, and will afterwards be obliged to load
+with loose powder, by which some fatal accident is sure to occur. He's
+a brave fellow, but a rash one!"
+
+He had scarcely spoken, when a broadside rang out. Simultaneously,
+with the discharge of the guns, a pillar of smoke and flame shot high
+into the air.
+
+"Good Heavens, the _Duke_ has blown up!" cried Captain Walker. "Dottin
+and his brave followers have found a watery grave!"
+
+"It is merely the smoke of a broadside," one of the officers
+interrupted.
+
+"No! No!" answered Walker, dejectedly. "It's the last that will ever
+be seen of noble Dottin and his men!"
+
+The smoke now cleared away and no ship was to be seen upon the surface
+of the water. The _Glorioso_ was still-belching both smoke and flame,
+and near her were three sails, indistinctly seen through a haze of
+smoke and fog. Could it not have been the _Duke_, after all? "Vain
+thought," cried bold Walker, aloud. "Our bravest and best ship has
+gone to the bottom."
+
+This terrible incident had such an effect upon the seamen of the _King
+George_ that Captain Walker called the officers aside into the
+companionway, and there made them a speech.
+
+"My brave men," said he, "you must keep up an air of cheerfulness
+before these fellows of ours, for, otherwise they will be backward in
+fighting, and will not have the courage which we desire. Go among them
+and show no sign that you are lacking in pleasantry."
+
+As he ceased speaking there was a series of sudden explosions, mingled
+with cries of alarm.
+
+"Gad zooks! What's happened!" cried all, rushing to the deck.
+
+They found matters in a sorry state, for the crew was in a panic; some
+clinging outside the ship; some climbing out upon the bowsprit, all
+ready to jump overboard should the vessel blow up.
+
+Captain Walker was astonished. "Why, men!" said he. "What means this
+confusion?"
+
+It was easily explained, for the alarm had been caused by a seaman who
+stepped upon a number of loaded muskets, which had been covered by a
+sail. One was fired off accidentally, and this exploded some spare
+ammunition, set the sail on fire, and completely demoralized the crew;
+who still were thinking of the sad tragedy which they had just
+witnessed. Order was quickly restored, the blazing sail was torn down
+and bucketed, and the terrified sailors came back to their posts. When
+men have their nerves shattered, it is easy to startle them.
+
+But how about the _Glorioso_?
+
+The fair-fighting Spaniard was far out of sight, by now, still
+whanging away at her many enemies, and still proudly flaunting the
+flag of Arragon in the faces of the British war-dogs, who were
+snapping and snarling at her like a wolf pack. What became of her was
+not known for several days, when the poor, battered _King George_
+staggered into a sheltering harbor, there to meet with the _Duke_
+herself, which was Dottin's good ship,--the one which all had thought
+to have exploded and sunk.
+
+"Hurray!" shouted many. "She's afloat after all!"
+
+Eager questioning brought out the fact that it had been the frigate
+_Dartmouth_ which had exploded; a vessel which had run near the fight
+in order to see the fun. Some loose powder had set fire to her
+magazine, and thus she had suffered the same fate as the _Fleuron_,
+which, as you remember, had blown up, when at anchor in the harbor of
+Brest. _It's a wise ship that keeps away from a sea battle._
+
+Only seventeen of the crew of this unfortunate craft had been picked
+up by the boats of the _Prince Frederick_; one of whom was an Irish
+lieutenant named O'Brien, who was hauled aboard Dottin's vessel, clad
+only in a night shirt.
+
+"Sirrah!" said he, bowing politely. "You must excuse the unfitness of
+my dress to come aboard a strange ship, but really I left my own in
+such a hurry that I had no time to stay for a change." He had been
+blown out of a port-hole!
+
+An additional vessel, the _Russel_, had aided in the capture of the
+powerful _Glorioso_, so it had taken four privateers to down the proud
+Castilian: the _Duke_, the _Prince George_, the _Prince Frederick_,
+and the _Russel_. Certainly she had put up a magnificent battle and
+she had completely crippled the stout little craft sailed by Captain
+Walker, who was now filled with chagrin and mortification, when he
+found that the treasure (which he had been sure was in the hold) had
+been safely landed at Ferrol, before he had sighted this valorous
+man-of-warsman. It was a great blow both to him and to his men, and,
+upon arriving at Lisbon he was met by one of the owners of his own
+vessel, who severely reprimanded him for fighting with such a powerful
+boat.
+
+"Captain Walker," said he, "I fear that your fighting blood is
+superior to your prudence!"
+
+But to this, the game old sea-dog replied, with considerable heat:
+
+"Had the treasure been aboard the _Glorioso_, as I expected, my dear
+sir, your compliment would have been far different. Or had we let her
+escape from us with the treasure aboard, what would you have said
+then?"
+
+To these sage reflections the owner did not reply.
+
+The honesty and courage of this able seaman were never questioned, and
+the following incident bears good witness to the first quality. Upon
+one occasion he was sailing for Lisbon in a well-armed privateer, when
+a couple of East India trading ships offered him £1,000 ($5,000) if he
+would act as their guard and protect them from the enemy.
+
+"Gentlemen," said he to the captain of these vessels, "I shall never
+take a reward for what I consider it my duty to do without one. I
+consider it my bounden duty to conduct you both safely into port, for
+you are both British ships, and I am engaged to fight the enemies of
+our King."
+
+So he convoyed them safely into port and would not take even the
+smallest present, in recompense for his services.
+
+As a fighter he had no superior. War is simply glorified sport and
+those who are best trained athletically can usually win upon the
+battle-field. Did not Wellington say, "The battle of Waterloo was won
+upon the foot-ball grounds of Eton and Harrow?" Which was another way
+of saying that the boys who had learned to stand punishment upon the
+athletic field, could take it manfully and well upon the field of
+battle.
+
+Walker believed in athletic exercise and made his sailors continually
+practice both gunnery and work with the cutlass. They were always in
+training and always prepared. That is the reason why they won. As you
+know, if you want to win in athletics you have to train hard and
+practice daily. If you want to win at warfare you have to do likewise.
+The most athletic nation is the nation which will win in the long
+fight, providing that it has sufficient resources and money to carry
+out a war, once that it has placed its men in the field. It takes a
+great deal of money to fight a war, but it takes trained men also, and
+those who are the most fit will win every time.
+
+The English are an athletic nation, an island nation, and great
+numbers of her people have had to follow the sea as a matter of
+course. Hence England has always had a vast quantity of well-trained
+seamen at her beck and call. For this reason she has been more
+successful upon the ocean than many of her neighbors. Will she
+continue to be?
+
+_If she continues to breed men like George Walker there is little
+reason to doubt that she will always be a winner in sea fighting._
+
+As for this famous mariner, little is known of his later life save
+that he was once imprisoned for debt, but this was no disgrace in
+those times and I am sure that he was soon liberated. He died
+September 20th, 1777, but where he was buried is not known, nor is
+there any record of his marriage. At any rate he has left the
+reputation of a brave and valiant seaman who was beloved by his men,
+feared by his enemies, and appreciated by his contemporaries.
+
+
+    "Britannia's glory first from ships arose;
+    To shipping still her power and wealth she owes.
+    Let each experienced Briton then impart,
+    His naval skill to perfect naval art."
+
+
+
+
+BIVOUAC OF THE DEAD
+
+
+    Their silvered swords are red with rust,
+    Their pluméd heads are bowed;
+    Their haughty banner, trailed in dust,
+    Is now their martial shroud.
+    And plenteous funeral tears have washed
+    The red stains from each brow,
+    And the proud forms, by battle gashed,
+    Are free from anguish now.
+
+    Yon marble minstrel's voiceless stone
+    In deathless song shall tell,
+    When many a vanished age hath flown,
+    The story how ye fell:
+    Nor wreck, nor change, nor winter's blight,
+    Nor Time's remorseless gloom,
+    Shall dim one ray of glory's light
+    That gilds your deathless tomb.
+
+
+[Illustration: From "The Army and Navy of the United States."
+    AMERICAN PRIVATEER TAKING POSSESSION OF A PRIZE.]
+
+
+
+
+JOHN PAUL JONES
+
+THE FOUNDER OF THE AMERICAN NAVY
+
+(1747-1792)
+
+
+    "Every generation has its own war. To forget the
+    disagreeable is a characteristic of the human
+    mind."--_The Philosopher._
+
+
+JOHN PAUL JONES
+
+THE FOUNDER OF THE AMERICAN NAVY
+
+(1747-1792)
+
+    "Why! Shiver my bones! It's John Paul Jones!
+    Johnny the Pirate! Johnny should swing!
+    Johnny who hails from Old Scotlant y' know,
+    Johnny who's tryin' to fight our good King.
+    Shiver my Timbers! We'll catch the old fox!
+    _Clew up those top-sails! Ware o' th' shoals!_
+    _Fire 'cross his bow-lines! Steer for th' rocks!_
+    _Ease away on the jib-boom; shoot as she rolls!_
+
+    "Oh! Johnny, my Johnny, you're slick as can be,
+    But, Johnny, My John, you'll be nipped present-ly."
+
+                    --_Song of the English Privateers._--1794.
+
+
+A French frigate lay in the silvery water off Norfolk, Virginia, and,
+as she swung quietly upon her anchor chains, a small sloop came
+bobbing alongside. A hail arose from her stern, where sat a man of
+about twenty-eight years; of medium stature, strongly built and
+swarthy. He was dressed in the gray clothing of a Virginian planter.
+
+"Hallo," he shouted in very good French. "May I come aboard?"
+
+"_Certainement! Certainement!_" cried a French officer, as he neared
+the rail. "Welcome, Monsieur Jones!"
+
+And, as the Virginian farmer scrambled upon the deck, he was greeted
+most effusively by a handsome nobleman. It was Louis Philippe Joseph,
+Duke de Chartres; known as "the Sailor Prince of France." The
+Virginian was John Paul Jones, of "Whitehaven" upon the river
+Rappahannock.
+
+"I bring you delicacies of the season from my garden," said the
+planter, smiling. "Some for you, and some for the commander--the
+Commodore de Kersaint. I trust that you will accept them, with my
+kindest regards. Meanwhile, I beg that you will give me leave to
+inspect your vessel and obtain information in regard to her plan,
+construction of the hull, arrangement of the batteries, her spars, her
+rig and other technical particulars. For, know you, Gentlemen, that
+war has just commenced between Great Britain and her Colonies and the
+newly-formed Marine Department of the Government will require a
+knowledge of ships and their construction. Partly for this I have
+visited you."
+
+Kersaint's face grew sober.
+
+"Monsieur Jones," said he, "I have just heard the news from Lexington
+and I am the senior officer upon this coast. France is at peace with
+England. The situation for me is a delicate one. I must refuse to
+allow you to sketch any plans of my vessel."
+
+But the young Duke de Chartres looked upon the matter in a different
+light.
+
+"You shall have all the assistance from me that you wish," he cried.
+"I do not fear the displeasure of England."
+
+So the Virginian planter was allowed to obtain the most complete data
+of the new frigate, even to copies of deck plans and sail spread,
+which he caused his carpenter to make. John Paul Jones was the guest
+of the Frenchman for two or three days.
+
+"And now you will visit my plantation," said he, when the time came
+for him to leave. "Is it not so? For there I can repay some of the
+kindnesses which you have shown me."
+
+"That we cannot do," replied the French commander. "It would be most
+impolitic for us to accept entertainment ashore from persons known to
+be hostile to King George. But we thank you, exceedingly, for your
+kind offer."
+
+So John Paul Jones proceeded alone to his plantation, and the French
+warship sailed for Corunna, Spain, after firing one gun as a salute to
+the new-born nation.
+
+The son of a Scotch gardener of Arbigland, Parish of Kirkbean, the
+youthful farmer had emigrated to America, where his brother owned the
+large plantation upon which he now resided. He found his kinsman dying
+of what was then called lung fever--in our time pneumonia--and, as he
+willed him his Virginian possessions, Jones was soon residing upon
+"3,000 acres of prime land, on the right bank of the Rappahannock;
+1,000 acres cleared and under plough, or grass; with 2,000 acres of
+strong, first-growth timber." He had a grist-mill; a mansion;
+overseer's houses; negro quarters; stables; tobacco houses; threshing
+floors; thirty negroes of all ages; twenty horses and colts; eighty
+neat cattle and calves; and many sheep and swine. Thus lived the
+future sea-captain; in peace, plenty, and seclusion, at the outbreak
+of the American Revolution.
+
+John Paul Jones had gone to sea at the early age of twelve. As a
+master's apprentice upon the stout brig _Friendship_, he had sailed
+from Scotland to the North American Colonies, the West Indies, and
+back again. He had kept to his seaman's life, and--so improved in
+knowledge of his profession--that he became second mate; then first
+mate; then Captain. At twenty-one he had amassed a fortune of about
+one thousand guineas ($5,000) in gold,--then equal, in purchasing
+power, to three times this sum. Besides this he had studied French and
+Spanish assiduously, so that he could speak the first like a native.
+It was to be of great help to the ambitious mariner. And he had plenty
+of nerve, as the following incident bears full witness:
+
+Upon one of his many voyages, the crew was reduced, by fever, to five
+or six hands. One of them was a huge mulatto named Munro--or
+"Mungo"--Maxwell. They became mutinous, and, as Captain Jones was the
+only officer who could keep the deck, it was found necessary to subdue
+the refractory seaman.
+
+"Will you obey my orders?" cried Jones, picking up a belaying pin.
+
+"You go sit down," cried Maxwell. "I no like you. _Pish!_ I could kill
+you with one crack."
+
+John Paul Jones did not answer, but walking towards the big black, he
+struck him just one blow with his pin. "Mungo" dropped to the deck and
+lay there. He never rose again.
+
+Upon arriving at port, Captain Jones surrendered to the authorities,
+and asked for a trial. It was given him.
+
+"Captain Paul," asked the Judge, "are you, in conscience, satisfied
+that you used no more force than was necessary to preserve discipline
+on your ship?"
+
+"May it please the most Honorable Court, Sir," answered the doughty
+seaman, "it became imperative to strike the mutinous sailor, Maxwell.
+Whenever it becomes necessary for a commanding officer to hit a
+seaman, it is also necessary to strike with a weapon. I may say that
+the necessity to strike carries with it the necessity to kill, or to
+completely disable the mutineer. I had two brace of loaded pistols in
+my belt, and could easily have shot him. I struck with a belaying pin
+in preference, because I hoped that I might subdue him without killing
+him. But the result proved otherwise. I trust that the Honorable Court
+and the jury will take due account of the fact that, though amply
+provided with pistols throwing ounce balls, necessarily fatal weapons,
+I used a belaying pin, which, though dangerous, is not necessarily a
+fatal weapon."
+
+The judge smiled and Captain Paul was acquitted.
+
+The famous Lord Nelson once said: "A naval officer, unlike a military
+commander, can have no fixed plans. He must always be ready for _the_
+chance. It may come to-morrow, or next week, or next year, or never;
+but he must be _always ready_!" Nunquam non Paratus. (Never
+unprepared.)
+
+Paul Jones kept a copy of this maxim in his head. He was always in
+training; always on the _qui vive_; always prepared. And--because he
+was always prepared--he accomplished what would seem to be the
+impossible.
+
+Shortly placed in command of a sloop-of-war, the _Alfred_ (one of the
+four vessels which constituted the American Navy), Lieutenant Jones
+assisted in an expedition against Fort Nassau, New Providence Island,
+in the Bahamas, which was a complete and absolute failure. On the way
+home, and when passing the end of Long Island, his boat was chased by
+the twenty-gun sloop-of-war _Glasgow_. The long shot kicked up a lot
+of spray around the fleet American vessel, but it was of no use. Jones
+got away and sailed into Newport Harbor, Rhode Island, with sails full
+of holes and stern-posts peppered with lead. But he was created a
+Captain; placed in command of the _Providence_--sloop-of-war, fourteen
+guns and one hundred and seven men--and soon harried the seas in
+search of fighting and adventure. With him were two faithful negro
+boys--Cato and Scipio--who followed him through the many vicissitudes
+of the Revolutionary War.
+
+The seas traversed by the _Providence_ were full of English
+cruisers--superior in size to the saucy American--but inferior in
+alertness and resources of her commander and her crew. She captured
+sixteen vessels--of which eight were sent to port and eight were
+destroyed at sea. Twice she was chased by British frigates, and, on
+one of these occasions, narrowly escaped capture.
+
+As the little sloop was running into one of the many harbors of the
+coast, a fast-sailing frigate bore down upon her from the starboard
+quarter.
+
+_Whang!_
+
+Her bow-guns spoke and said "Heave to!"
+
+But Captain Jones had heard this call before, and kept on upon his
+course.
+
+"She's got me," said he. "But, as the breeze is fresh I may run away.
+Stand ready, Boys, and let go your tackle immediate, when I give the
+command!"
+
+The helm was now put hard-up and the _Providence_ crept into the wind.
+Closer and closer came the brig--now her bow-guns sputtered--and a
+shot ricochetted near the lean prow of the _Providence_. But the sloop
+kept on.
+
+Suddenly--just as the brig drew alongside--Paul Jones swung his rudder
+over, wore around in the wind, and ran dead to leeward.
+
+"Watch her sniffle!" cried the gallant Captain, as the brig
+_chug-chugged_ on the dancing waves, and, endeavoring to box short
+about, came up into the wind. But fortune favored the American
+skipper. Just then a squall struck the Englishman; she lost steering
+way; and hung upon the waves like a huge rubber ball, while her
+Captain said things that cannot be printed.
+
+When in this condition, Jones ran his boat within half gun-shot, gave
+her a dose of iron from one of his stern-guns, and--before the
+frigate could get squared away--was pounding off before the wind,
+which was the sloop's best point of sailing.
+
+"Well," said the crafty John Paul, his face wreathed in smiles. "If
+the frigate had simply followed my manoeuver of wearing around under
+easy helm and trimming her sails as the wind bore, I could not have
+distanced her much in the alteration of the course, and she must have
+come off the wind very nearly with me, and before I could get out of
+range.
+
+"I do not take to myself too great credit for getting away. I did the
+best that I could, but there was more luck than sense to it. A good or
+bad puff of wind foils all kinds of skill one way or the other--and
+this time when I saw the little squall cat's-pawing to windward--I
+thought that I would ware ship and see if the Britisher wouldn't get
+taken aback. The old saying that 'Discretion is the better part of
+valor' may, I think, be changed to 'Impudence is--or may be,
+sometimes--the better part of discretion.'"
+
+Two kinds of news greeted the slippery sailor when he arrived in port.
+One was a letter from Thomas Jefferson, enclosing his commission as
+Captain in the Continental Navy, by Act of Congress. The other--an
+epistle from his agents in Virginia, informing him that, during the
+month of July previous, his plantation had been utterly ravaged by an
+expedition of British and Tories (Virginians who sided with England in
+the war) under Lord Dunmore. His buildings had all been burned; his
+wharf demolished; his livestock killed; and every one of his
+able-bodied slaves of both sexes had been carried off to Jamaica to
+be sold. The enemy had also destroyed his growing crops; cut down his
+fruit trees; in short, nothing was left of his once prosperous and
+valuable plantation but the bare ground.
+
+"This is part of the fortunes of war," said Jones. "I accept the
+extreme animosity displayed by Lord Dunmore as a compliment to the
+sincerity of my attachment to the cause of liberty."
+
+Bold words, well spoken by a bold man!
+
+"But," continued the able sailor, "I most sadly deplore the fate of my
+poor negroes. The plantation was to them a home, not a place of
+bondage. Their existence was a species of grown-up childhood, not
+slavery. Now they are torn away and carried off to die under the
+pestilence and lash of Jamaica cane-fields; and the price of their
+poor bodies will swell the pockets of English slave-traders. For this
+cruelty to those innocent, harmless people, I hope sometime, somehow,
+to find an opportunity to exact a reckoning."
+
+Again bold sentiments,--and the reckoning, too, was forthcoming.
+
+"I have no fortune left but my sword, and no prospect except that of
+getting alongside of the enemy," wrote the impoverished sea-captain to
+a Mr. Hewes.
+
+This prospect also was to soon have ample fulfilment.
+
+Ordered to take command of the _Alfred_, Captain Jones made a short
+cruise eastward, in 1776, accompanied by the staunch little
+_Providence_. The journey lasted only thirty-three days, but, during
+that time, seven ships of the enemy fell into the clutches of the two
+American vessels.
+
+"Aha!" cried Captain Jones, as he rubbed his hands. "This looks more
+propitious for our cause. We have taken the _Mellish_ and the
+_Biddeford_. Let us break into them and see how much of the King's
+treasure has been secured."
+
+And it was indeed good treasure!
+
+The _Mellish_ was found to contain ten thousand complete uniforms,
+including cloaks, boots, socks and woollen shirts, for the winter
+supply of General Howe's army; seven thousand pairs of blankets; one
+thousand four hundred tents; six hundred saddles and complete cavalry
+equipments; one million seven hundred thousand rounds of fixed
+ammunition (musket cartridges); a large quantity of medical stores;
+forty cases of surgical instruments; and forty-six soldiers who were
+recruits sent out to join the various British regiments then serving
+in the Colonies.
+
+The larger prize--the _Biddeford_--carried one thousand seven hundred
+fur overcoats for the use of the Canadian troops; eleven thousand
+pairs of blankets, intended partly for the British troops in Canada,
+and partly for the Indians then in British pay along the northern
+frontier; one thousand small-bore guns of the type then known as the
+"Indian-trade smooth-bore," with hatchets, knives, and boxes of flint
+in proportion, to arm the redskins. There were eight light six-pounder
+field guns and complete harness and other equipage for the two
+four-gun batteries of horse-artillery. Also some wines and table
+supplies for Sir Guy Carleton and a case of fine Galway duelling
+pistols for a British officer then serving in Canada.
+
+"These I will appropriate as mine own portion," cried Captain Jones.
+"And also a share of the wines, for I must have something to drink the
+health of mine enemy in." And--so saying--he chuckled gleefully. It
+had been a rich haul.
+
+But the Captain was not happy. His pet project was to cruise in
+European waters, and he wanted to get near the British coast with a
+ship--or better--a squadron of some force.
+
+"Cruises along the American coast," said he, "will annoy the enemy and
+result in capture of small ships and consorts from time to time. But
+who--forsooth--will hear of this in Europe? We will add nothing to our
+prestige as a new nation if we win victories upon this side of the
+ocean."
+
+All who heard him were much impressed by the vehement earnestness of
+his arguments.
+
+"You have had so much success, Mr. Jones," said they, "that we feel
+you will have still greater good fortune in future years."
+
+And Jones said to himself: "Oh, if I only could get the chance!"
+
+It soon came, for on June the 14th, 1777, the Continental Congress
+passed the following resolution:
+
+"_Resolved:_ That Captain John Paul Jones be appointed to command the
+ship _Ranger_" (a brand-new sloop-of-war which had just been launched
+at Portsmouth, N. H.).
+
+This boat was designed to carry a battery of twenty long six-pounders
+and was planned expressly for speed. She was one hundred and sixteen
+feet long, twenty-eight feet in breadth, and her bottom was covered
+with copper: the first American ship to be thus protected. Captain
+Jones put fourteen long nine-pounders in her and only four
+six-pounders, but even then she was top-heavy.
+
+In spite of the fact that it was not quite safe to carry full sail, if
+clearing to windward, close-hauled in squally weather; when running
+free--before the wind--she could course through the water like a
+jack-rabbit. In outward appearance she was a perfect beauty, and, as
+she was rather low in the water for her length, and her masts raked
+two or three degrees more than any other ship of the day, she was--on
+the whole--the sauciest craft afloat. Jones was delighted.
+
+"I have the best crew I have ever seen," said he. "I believe it is the
+best in the world. They are nearly all native Americans, and the
+proportion of able seamen to the total is much beyond the average. I'm
+going to make one or two short runs off the coast--a day or two at a
+time--to shake down the sails and find the best trim of the ship. Then
+away to the shores of England and France!"
+
+He waited impatiently for orders to proceed across the blue Atlantic.
+On October the 18th, 1777, a courier raced frantically into
+Portsmouth, crying,
+
+"Burgoyne has surrendered! Burgoyne has surrendered!" And Jones'
+impatience to be off increased ten-fold.
+
+There were no details of the American victory, for the courier had
+reached the sleepy New England town from the field of Stillwater, in
+about thirty hours, and it was one hundred and forty-seven miles--as
+the crow flies--or, about one hundred and seventy-five by the shortest
+road. He had stopped only long enough to saddle a fresh horse and
+shift his saddle, eating his meals in the stirrups, and never thinking
+of rest until he had shouted his tidings for three full days. The
+patriot country was wild with enthusiasm.
+
+"I will spread the news in France in thirty days," said Jones, when
+his dispatches were placed in his hands, about midnight of October
+the thirty-first. And, running by the whirling eddies of
+"Pull-and-be-damned" Point, he soon had the _Ranger_ clear of the
+low-lying Isle of Shoals: the sea cross and choppy, but the good
+ship bowling along before a fresh gale of wind.
+
+"I had sailed with many Captains," writes Elijah Hall, second
+Lieutenant of the staunch, little vessel, "but I never had seen a ship
+crowded as Captain Jones drove the _Ranger_. The wind held
+northeasterly and fresh 'til we cleared Sable Island and began to draw
+on to the Banks. Then it came northeast and east-northeast with many
+snow squalls, and thick of nights."
+
+Imagine the situation of the _Ranger_'s crew, with a top-heavy,
+cranky ship under their feet, and a Commander who day and night
+insisted on every rag she could stagger under, without laying clear
+down!
+
+As it was, she came close to beam-ends more than once, and on one
+occasion righted only by letting-fly her sheets cut with hatchets.
+During all this trying work Captain Jones was his own navigating
+officer, keeping the deck eighteen or twenty hours out of the
+twenty-four; often serving extra grog to the men with his own hands;
+and, by his example, silencing all disposition to grumble. In the
+worst of it, the watch and watch was lap-watched, so that the men
+would be eight hours on to four off; but no one complained. It speaks
+well alike for commander and crew that not a man was punished or even
+severely reprimanded during the terrific voyage.
+
+But Captain Jones made good his boast. He actually did land at
+Nantes--upon the coast of France--early in the morning of December
+second, 1777, thirty-two days out from Portsmouth. His crew were
+jubilant, and sang a song which ran:
+
+    "So now we had him hard and fast,
+    Burgoyne laid down his arms at last,
+    And that is why we brave the blast,
+    To carry the news to London!
+    Heigh-ho! Carry the News!
+    Go! Go! Carry the News!
+    Tell old King George that he's undone!
+    He's licked by the Yankee squirrel gun.
+       Go!
+          Go!
+       Carry the news to London!"
+
+And Captain John made haste to proceed to Paris, placing the
+dispatches in the hands of Dr. Franklin early upon the fifth day of
+December,--travelling two hundred and twenty miles in sixty hours. He
+returned to his ship about the middle of the month, to find that
+several of the crew were mutinous.
+
+"See here, Captain," said one--a seaman from Portsmouth, New
+Hampshire--"Me and my pals enlisted at home after readin' a hand-bill
+which said that we wuz to get $40.00 apiece extra, for this cruise.
+Now, your young Lieutenant tells us that the reg'lations of Congress
+say that we are to only get th' reg'lar salary allotted by those old
+pals, who make our laws. We came with you thinkin' that we wuz ter git
+this money, and, by gum, we intend to git it!"
+
+"Calm yourself, my good fellow," said Jones soothingly. "If the
+hand-bill said that you were to receive $40.00 you shall have it. You
+shall get this sum even if I have to pay it myself."
+
+And this he did.
+
+"I would not deceive any man who has entered or may enter, to serve in
+my command," remarked John Paul Jones. "I consider myself as being
+under a personal obligation to these brave men, who have cheerfully
+enlisted to serve with me, and I accept their act as a proof of their
+good opinion of me, which I value so highly, that I cannot permit it
+to be dampened in the least degree, by misunderstanding, or failure to
+perform engagements. I wish all my men to be happy and contented. The
+conditions of the hand-bills will be strictly complied with."
+
+Accordingly he disbursed one hundred and forty-seven guineas (about
+$800.00) out of his own pocket, in making good the terms of the
+hand-bill. Is it any wonder that the gallant seaman was popular with
+his followers?
+
+But the _Ranger_ lay at Brest--eager for action--her light sails
+furled; her spars shining with new varnish; her polished guns winking
+in the rays of the sun.
+
+"Come, my Hearties!" cried Captain Jones on April the 10th, "we'll hie
+us out to the west coast of Ireland and see if our new ship cannot
+make a good name for herself."
+
+Sails were hoisted upon the staunch, little vessel. Her bow was turned
+toward the ocean--and--with the new flag of the infant republic
+fluttering from her masts, the _Ranger_ went forth for battle, for
+plunder, and for glory. She was to get a little of each.
+
+Arriving off the coast of Cumberland, and, learning from fishermen
+decoyed on board, that there was a large amount of shipping in the
+harbor of Whitehaven, with no warship of superior force in the
+neighborhood to protect it, the bold American skipper resolved to make
+a dash into this quiet cove, with a view of destroying the ships there
+in port. The British authorities had no suspicion of his presence in
+the Irish Sea.
+
+As the _Ranger_ drew near to Whitehaven, the wind blew such a gale
+from the southwest, that it was impossible to land a boat.
+
+"We must hold off until the breeze slackens!" cried bold Captain
+Jones. "This cannot last forever, and our opportunity will soon be
+here."
+
+Sure enough--the wind died out about midnight of April 22nd--and the
+_Ranger_ beat up towards the town. When about five hundred yards from
+the shore, the vessel was hove to--two boats were lowered--and
+twenty-nine seamen, with third Lieutenant Wallingford, Midshipmen
+Arthur Green and Charles Hill, jumped into them. With Jones in command
+they hastened toward the coast.
+
+The surprise was complete. Two small forts lay at the mouth of the
+harbor, but, as the seamen scrambled ashore, they were precipitately
+abandoned by the garrison of "coast-guards." Captain Jones, Midshipman
+Green, and six men rushed shouting upon one of these, capturing it
+without an effort; the other was taken by Lieutenant Wallingford and
+eight sailors,--while four were left behind as a boat-guard. A few
+pistols spattered, a few muskets rang; but, when the stout sea-dogs
+reached the tidal basin, where the shipping lay, the townsfolk were
+thoroughly aroused. Burning cotton was thrown on board of the ships
+lying at anchor, but only one took fire. It was full daylight, and the
+insignificance of Jones' force became evident to the townsfolk, who
+were rallying from all directions.
+
+"Retreat to the ships," shouted the Yankee Captain, "there is no time
+to lose!"
+
+The landing party--small as it was--had become separated into two
+groups; one commanded by Jones, the other by Wallingford. Thinking
+that Wallingford's party was, for the moment, more seriously menaced
+than his own, Jones attacked and dispersed--with his dozen men--a
+force of about one hundred of the local militia who were endeavoring
+to retake the lower fort, or battery, whose guns had been spiked by
+the Americans. The townsfolk and coast-guards had joined and were
+making a vigorous assault upon Wallingford. But shots flew thick and
+fast from the muskets of the followers of the daring Paul Jones--as
+they retreated to their own boats. The whole landing party--with the
+exception of one man--finally leaped safely into the boat, and were on
+board the _Ranger_ before the sun was an hour over the horizon.
+
+Jones was delighted.
+
+"The actual results of this affair," said he, "are of little moment,
+as we destroyed but one ship. The moral effect--however--is very
+great, as it has taught the English that the fancied security of their
+coasts is a Myth."
+
+In fact this little raid of the valiant John Paul made the Government
+take expensive measures for the defense of numerous ports hitherto
+relying for protection upon the vigilance and supposed omnipotence of
+the navy. It also doubled the rates of marine insurance; which was the
+most grievous damage of all.
+
+"Now to attack a castle!" cried Jones, "and bag an Earl, too, if he is
+around!"
+
+The _Ranger_ was headed for Solway Firth--not more than three hours'
+sail away--where, upon St. Mary's Isle, was the castle of the Earl of
+Selkirk.
+
+"If we can catch the noble owner of this keep," said John Paul, "we
+will hold him as hostage for the better treatment of American
+prisoners in England."
+
+As luck would have it, the Earl was away at this particular time, and,
+although the wild sea-dogs of the _Ranger_ carried off several pieces
+of silverware from the castle, this was all that was captured. Lucky
+Earl! But, had he fallen into the clutches of John Paul, he would have
+been treated with the greatest consideration, for the Captain of the
+_Ranger_ was the most chivalrous of conquerors.
+
+The _Ranger_ stood across the Irish Channel and next day ran into some
+fisher boats.
+
+"Ah! Ha!" laughed one of the sons of Ireland. "The _Drake_--the
+guard-ship at Carrickfergus--is after you, and she's a twenty-gun
+sloop-of-war."
+
+John Paul smiled.
+
+"To lessen trouble," said he, "I'll heave-to off the mouth of Belfast
+Lough and wait for her to work out. This will save her the pains of
+coming after me."
+
+So he luffed his ship, lay to, and waited for the _Drake_ to sail on.
+Her white sails could be seen more clearly as she neared the
+adventurous American. A boat was sent out to reconnoitre--but--as it
+approached, it was surrounded by tenders from the _Ranger_; a
+midshipman and five men in her, were made prisoners. Tide and wind
+were both against the _Drake_; she came on slowly; and, at an hour
+before sundown, was just within hail. The sea was fairly smooth, the
+wind southerly and very light.
+
+"What ship is that?" sounded from the deck of the _Drake_.
+
+"The American Continental ship _Ranger_," rang the clear reply. "Lay
+on! We are waiting for you!"
+
+Both ships bore away before the wind and neared each other to within
+striking distance. _Boom!_ a broadside roared from the side of the
+_Drake_, and the fight had begun.
+
+_Crash! Crash!_ Muskets spoke from the rigging of the _Ranger_, where
+several seamen had climbed in the endeavor to pick off the gunners on
+the deck of the British warship. There were one hundred and
+fifty-seven men upon the _Drake_; Paul Jones had one hundred and
+twenty-six. The _Drake_'s battery was sixteen nine-pounders and four
+sixes. Thus--you see--the advantage was clearly with the Britishers.
+
+Both boats swung along under full canvas, pounding away at each other
+like prize-fighters. Spars were shattered; sails ripped; masts
+splintered in the hail of iron. And--as the fight progressed--it could
+be plainly seen that the marksmanship of those upon the _Drake_ was
+infinitely less accurate than that of the Americans.
+
+"Every shot of our men told," said Jones--not long afterwards. "They
+gave the _Drake_ three broadsides for two, right along, at that. The
+behavior of my crew in this engagement more than justifies the
+representations I have often made, of what American sailors would do,
+if given a chance at the enemy in his own waters. We have seen that
+they fight with courage on our own coast--but fought here, almost
+in hail of the enemy's shore."
+
+[Illustration: From "The Army and Navy of the United States."
+    "BEGAN TO HULL THE 'DRAKE' BELOW THE WATER-LINE."]
+
+As the two ships were going off the wind, which was light, they both
+rolled considerably, and together; that is, when the _Ranger_ went
+down to port, the _Drake_ came up to starboard. The gunners upon the
+quarter-deck of the _Ranger_ timed their guns, so that they were fired
+as their muzzles went down and the enemy's side arose. By this
+practice they began to hull the _Drake_ below the water-line.
+
+"Sink the English! Sink the English!" cried the powder-blackened
+fighters.
+
+But Captain Jones thought differently.
+
+"Don't sink her!" he yelled to gunner Starbuck, above the din of
+battle. "I want to take her alive, instead of destroying her; for it
+will be much more to our advantage if we carry her as a visible prize
+into a French port."
+
+"All right, Cap'n!" shouted his men. "We'll cripple her aloft!"
+
+They now fired as the muzzles rose, and, so terrific were their
+broadsides, that the fore and main topsail-yards came tumbling across
+the starboard quarter, in a tangle of ropes, sails, and rigging.
+
+"Rake her! Rake her!" shouted Jones to his men.
+
+The _Ranger_ luffed and crossed the stern of the _Drake_ with the
+purpose of spanking a full broadside down her decks. The British boat
+was badly crippled and had lost steering way.
+
+But, before the well-aimed guns belched another destructive volley
+into the shattered Englishman, a white flag went aloft, and a voice
+came: "Hold your fire. We surrender!" The _Drake_ was a
+prisoner-of-war.
+
+Thus Paul Jones had won a notable victory, and thus he had proved that
+the British were not invincible, and could be defeated, upon the sea,
+by their own cousins, as readily as upon the land.
+
+When the _Ranger_ lay in the harbor of Brest, a few days later, with
+the _Drake_ alongside, boats crowded about in order to view the vessel
+which had captured another,--larger than herself. And, as the _Ranger_
+had taken three merchant ships on the way to the coast of France, the
+black eyes of the natives shone with beady lustre as they gazed upon
+the graceful hull of the victorious sloop-of-war from Portsmouth, New
+Hampshire.
+
+"See Monsieur Jones," said they, as they nudged each other. "Voilà!
+Here is a man who is better than our own sailors. Look at this
+American sea-devil!"
+
+And the chest of John Paul Jones swelled with pride.
+
+Eager and active, the gallant Commodore was most unhappy during the
+next few months, for the _Ranger_ was ordered back to America--under
+his Lieutenant Simpson. Twenty-seven of his crew, however, elected to
+remain and fight with him, when he should get another command,--among
+them a little Narragansett Indian called Antony Jeremiah.
+
+"Me like to see big gun shoot," said he. "Me like to walk on deck of
+enemy's big boat when you take it! Byme-by we take bigger ship than
+_Drake_ and kill heap more enemy! Ugh! Ugh!"
+
+At this John Paul laughed.
+
+"Antony Jeremiah," said he, "you shall witness one big fight if you
+stay with John Paul. You wait and see!"
+
+And what John Paul had said soon came to pass.
+
+"The French," writes the doughty warrior, "have little conception of
+an expedition such as I propose; to harry the coast and destroy the
+commerce of the enemy. Their idea is to leave all of that to
+privateers, of which I have already been offered a dozen commands.
+Some of the ships they fit out as privateers are really respectable
+frigates in size, and I have seen one, called the _Monsieur_, that
+mounts thirty-eight or forty guns. But I do not wish to engage in
+privateering. My object is not that of private gain, but to serve the
+public in a way that may reflect credit on our infant navy and give
+prestige to our country over the sea."
+
+Noble sentiments--nobly expressed!
+
+In spite of the gloomy outlook he at last secured a vessel from the
+King himself, called the _Duras_, which he re-christened "_Le Bon
+Homme Richard_"--"_The Good Richard_"--the name assumed by Dr.
+Benjamin Franklin when writing his famous "Almanack," except that he
+called him "Poor Richard." This was a well-merited compliment to the
+great and good man, who was then Commissioner from the United States
+to France, and a firm friend to the ardent John Paul. The vessel had
+forty guns, "and," writes the Minister of Marine, "as you may find
+too much difficulty in enlisting a sufficient number of Americans, the
+King permits you to levy French volunteers, until you obtain a full
+crew."
+
+John Paul hastened to get her ready for a cruise. "I mounted
+twenty-eight long twelve-pounders on the gun-deck," he says, "put
+eight of the long nines on the quarter-deck, and discarded the
+six-pounders of her old battery. This gave her a battery of forty-two
+guns, throwing two hundred and fifty-eight pounds of metal in a single
+broadside. She was the fair equivalent of a thirty-six gun frigate."
+
+From February to June she was worked over; refitted; resparred. On
+June 19th, 1779, the gallant John Paul Jones swung out into the
+English Channel; he, himself, in command of the _Good Richard_, which
+carried a crew of three hundred and seventy-five, not more than fifty
+of whom were Americans. Four other vessels were with him: the
+_Alliance_, a thirty-two gun frigate; the _Pallas_, a twenty-eight gun
+frigate; the _Vengeance_, a twelve gun brig; and the _Cerf_, a cutter.
+
+On the second day out the _Alliance_ fouled the _Richard_, causing so
+much damage to both, that the squadron was compelled to return to port
+for repairs, which--with other transactions--consumed six weeks. But
+the accident was a lucky one, for numerous American sailors, who were
+in English prisons, were shortly exchanged with English seamen in
+French dungeons; and thus Paul Jones was able to man the _Good
+Richard_ with one hundred and fourteen native Americans, who were
+anxious to have a crack at those who had captured them but a short
+time before.
+
+Finally, with refitted ships and reorganized crews, Paul Jones was
+ready to sail from the roadstead of Isle de Groaix, in the early part
+of August, 1779, bound upon his cruise around the British Islands.
+There were four ships in this squadron: the _Good Richard_; the
+_Alliance_, under Pierre Landais (a depraved and dishonest Frenchman);
+the _Pallas_, under Cottineau (an honest Frenchman); and the
+_Vengeance_, a sloop-of-war. The prevailing winds were light and
+baffling, so the squadron moved slowly.
+
+War had been declared between France and England, and thus the English
+Channel was thronged with privateers from both countries. The
+_Richard_ and a French privateer, in company, re-captured a large ship
+belonging to Holland, but bound from Barcelona to Dunkirk, France,
+which had been taken some days before by an English vessel off Cape
+Ortegal and ordered into Falmouth, England. England and Holland were
+still at peace, at this time, but the English claimed the right to
+intercept and send into their own port for examination, all neutral
+vessels bound to French ports, as England and France were then at war.
+Commodore Jones took the English prize-crew out of the Dutch ship, as
+prisoners of war, and then ordered the ship into l'Orient in charge of
+her own crew, but under the command of one of his midshipmen, until
+she could come under the protection of a French port.
+
+"Things are going well with us!" cried Captain Jones, rubbing his
+hands gleefully.
+
+He soon felt much happier. For, on the morning of August 23rd, when in
+the vicinity of Cape Clear, the _Richard_ sent three boats, and
+afterwards a fourth, to take a brig that was becalmed in the northwest
+quarter--just out of gun-shot. It proved to be the _Fortune_, of
+Bristol, bound from Newfoundland for her home-port with whale-oil,
+salt fish, and barrel staves. Manned by a prize-crew of two warrant
+officers and six men, she was sent to Nantes.
+
+All were happy. All were looking forward to a good fight. It was to
+come to them.
+
+The little fleet of war-dogs sailed northward, and, on September 1st,
+about ten o'clock in the morning, the northwest promontory of Scotland
+was sighted. At the same instant, two large ships bore in sight on the
+same quarter, and another vessel appeared to windward.
+
+"Bear up! Bear up!" cried Jones.
+
+The _Richard_ held over toward the first two ships until he saw that
+it was the _Alliance_ and a prize she had taken about daylight,--a
+vessel bound for Jamaica, from London.
+
+"Now chase the other fellow!" he cried, turning the wheel with his own
+hands, and soon the _Good Richard_ was bounding over the waves in hard
+pursuit of the second sail. Slowly but surely she was overhauled.
+Heavily armed, she did not surrender until after the exchange of
+several shots, which the _Richard_ pumped into her, after running up
+close enough to show her broadside.
+
+A boat soon carried a number of seamen to take possession of her, and
+she proved to be the British privateer, the _Union_, mounting
+twenty-two six-pounders, and bound northward from London to Quebec, in
+Canada, laden with a cargo of naval and military stores for the
+British troops and flotillas on the Lakes. The _Union_ also carried a
+valuable mail, including dispatches for Sir William Howe, in New York,
+and Sir Guy Carleton, in Canada. "These were lost," writes John Paul
+to good Doctor Franklin, at Paris, for the _Alliance_ imprudently
+showed American colors, though English colors were still flying on the
+_Bon Homme Richard_; "the enemy thereby being induced to throw his
+papers of importance overboard before we could take possession of
+him." The prizes were manned from the _Alliance_ and sent (by Landais)
+into the seaport of Bergen, in Norway.
+
+The squadron now beat down the east coast of Scotland, and, after
+capturing five or six small prizes, rounded-to off the Firth of Forth.
+
+"I intend to attack the port of Leith!" cried Jones, "as I understand
+that it is defended only by a small guard-ship of twenty-two guns, and
+an old fortification (old Leith Fort) garrisoned by a detachment of
+Militia."
+
+The wind was adverse, blowing off shore, with frequent heavy squalls,
+but about noon of the 17th of September, the _Richard_ and the
+_Pallas_ beat up within gun-shot of Leith Fort and were lowering away
+their tenders in order to land, when a heavy Northwest gale sprang up,
+compelling them to hoist their boats, and put to sea. The gale lasted
+about twenty-four hours, but, on the morning of the 19th, the wind
+took another turn, the sea grew calm, and Jones proposed to renew the
+attack upon Leith. The Commander of the _Pallas_ made strong objection
+to this. "I do not believe that we should stay here," cried he. "If we
+persist in the attempt to remain on this station three days longer, we
+shall have a squadron of heavy frigates, if not a ship of line, to
+deal with. Convinced of this, I offer it as my judgment that we had
+better work along the shore to-day and to-morrow, as far as Spurn
+Head, and then, if we do not fall in with the Baltic merchant fleet,
+stand off the coast and make the best of our way to Dunkirk."
+
+Commodore Jones spent a few moments in reflection. "You are probably
+right, Cottineau," said he. "I only wish that another man like you
+were in command of the _Alliance_. However, we cannot help what is and
+must make the best of it. Go aboard your ship and make sail to the
+south-southwest. Speak the _Vengeance_ as you run down, and tell
+Ricot--her commander--to rendezvous off Spurn Head. I will bring up
+the rear with this ship. We may fall in with the Baltic fleet between
+here and Scarboro', which is usually their first English port of
+destination at this time of the year. Should you happen to sight the
+_Alliance_, inform Captain Landais of our destination, but do not
+communicate it to him as an order, because that would be likely to
+expose you only to insult."
+
+The two ships turned South, and the next three days were without
+events of importance. At length they neared the harbor of Scarboro',
+and, as they hovered about twelve miles off the land, they saw some
+vessels making for the shore, and protecting a fleet of merchantmen.
+
+"They're a heavy man-of-war--either a fifty-gun frigate, or a
+fifty-four--with a large ship-of-war in company," cried one of his
+Lieutenants, who had been watching them through a glass. "The Captain
+of the larger one has cleverly manoeuvered to protect his merchant
+ship."
+
+Commodore Jones seemed to be much pleased.
+
+"At last we'll have a little fight," cried he. "Bear hard for the
+land, and get between the larger vessel and the shore!"
+
+Captain Cottineau was signalled to and requested to go after the
+sloop-of-war. About sundown the _Richard_ succeeded in weathering the
+large frigate and manoeuvered between her and the land.
+
+The ships neared each other very gradually, for the breeze was slight.
+They were on opposite tacks and Commodore Jones readily made out the
+force and rate of his antagonist. By the light of the dying day--for
+it was about seven P. M.--he saw that she was a new forty-four; a
+perfect beauty. It was the _Serapis_--Captain Richard Pearson
+commanding--but six months off the stocks and on her first cruise as a
+convoy to the Baltic fleet of merchantmen: consisting of about forty
+vessels laden with timber and other naval stores for the use of the
+British dockyards. Jones had hoped to have an opportunity to attack
+this flotilla, but his plans had been frustrated by the vigilance and
+skill of the commander of the men-of-war in convoy.
+
+Even now Landais might have got among the merchantmen in the
+fast-sailing _Alliance_, while Jones and Cottineau occupied the
+attention of the two men-of-war; but the French officer did not have
+sufficient courage to tackle them, and kept well beyond striking
+distance.
+
+The Captain of the _Serapis_ stood upon the deck, intently gazing at
+the on-coming vessel.
+
+"Gad Zooks!" he uttered. "From the size of her spars and her height
+out of water I take her to be a French fifty of the time of the last
+war. It's too dark for me to see whether she has any lower ports or
+not." He raised his night glasses to his eyes, and, in the light of
+the full moon which was now flooding the sea with a silvery haze, saw
+that his opponent was intent upon a fight.
+
+"It is probably Paul Jones," said he, lowering the glasses. "If
+so--there's tight work ahead. What ship is that?" he cried out in loud
+tones.
+
+No answer came from the dark hull of the _Good Richard_, but, as she
+swung nearer upon the rolling waves, suddenly a flash, a roar, and a
+sheet of flame belched from her side. The battle was on!
+
+It was a struggle which has been talked of for years. It was a battle
+about which the world never seems to tire of reading. It was _the_
+battle which has made the name of John Paul Jones nautically immortal.
+
+The two warriors of the deep were on the same tack, headed northwest,
+driven by a slight wind which veered to the westward. The sea was
+smooth, the sky was clear, the full moon was rising--the conditions
+for a night struggle were ideal.
+
+_Crash! Crash! Crash!_
+
+Broadside after broadside rolled and shrieked from ship to ship, as
+the air was filled with flying bits of iron.
+
+_Crash! Crash! Crash!_
+
+Travelling very slowly, for the wind was little more than sufficient
+to give them steering-way in the tide, the two antagonists drifted
+along for twenty minutes, at cable length (600 to 900 feet--about the
+distance of the 220 yard dash). But suddenly--_Boom!_ an explosion
+sounded in the gun-room of the _Good Richard_. Two of her
+eighteen-pounders had blown up back of the trunnions; many of the crew
+lay dead and dying, the after part of the main gun-deck was shattered
+like a reed: Senior Midshipman and Acting Lieutenant John Mayrant--who
+had command of this battery--was severely wounded in the head by a
+fragment of one of the exploded shells, and was scorched by the blast
+of flame.
+
+"Abandon your guns!" shouted First Lieutenant Dale, "and report with
+your remaining men to the main-deck battery!"
+
+"All right!" answered Mayrant, as he bound a white kerchief around
+his bleeding head. "I'll be with you just as soon as I give them one
+more shot."
+
+This he endeavored to do, but not a gun could be touched off. "The old
+sixteen-pounders that formed the battery of the lower gun-deck, did no
+service whatever, except firing eight shots in all," writes John Paul
+Jones. "Two out of three of them burst at the first fire, killing
+almost all the men who were stationed to manage them."
+
+The gunnery of the _Good Richard_ was excellent. Though her battery
+was one-third lighter than that of the _Serapis_; though her gun-crews
+were composed--to a great extent--of French volunteers, who had never
+been at sea before--in quickness and rapidity of fire, the shells from
+the American fell just as accurately as did those from the Britisher;
+pointed and gauged by regular, trained English men-of-war seamen. The
+roar of belching cannon was deafening. The superior weight and energy
+of the British shot began to tell decisively against the sputtering
+twelve-pounders of the _Richard_, in spite of the fact that they were
+being served with quickness and precision. As the two battling
+sea-monsters drifted slowly along, a pall of sulphurous smoke hung
+over their black hulls, like a sheet of escaping steam. They were
+drawing nearer and nearer to each other.
+
+It was now about a quarter to eight. Wounded and dying littered the
+decks of both Britisher and American, but the fight was to the death.
+
+"Luff! Luff!" cried Captain Pearson, as the _Richard_ began to forge
+near him. "Luff! Luff! and let fly with all guns at the water-line.
+Sink the Yankee Pirate!"
+
+But Paul Jones was intent upon grappling with his adversary. Quickly
+jerking the tiller to one side, he shoved the _Richard_ into the wind
+and endeavored to run her--bows on--into the side of his opponent. The
+_Serapis_ paid off, her stern swung to, and, before she could gather
+way, the _Richard_'s jib-boom shot over her larboard quarter and into
+the mizzen rigging.
+
+Jones was delighted.
+
+"Throw out the grappling hooks!" cried he, in shrill tones. "Hold
+tight to the Britisher and be prepared to board!"
+
+In an instant, many clawing irons spun out into the mizzen stays of
+the _Serapis_; but, though they caught, the lines holding them soon
+parted. The _Serapis_ fell off and the _Richard_ lurched ahead.
+Neither had been able to bring her broadsides to bear.
+
+"We can't beat her by broadsiding," cried Jones. "We've _got_ to
+board!"
+
+_Crash! Crash! Crash!_
+
+Again the cannon made the splinters fly. Again the two game-cocks spat
+at each other like angry cats, but, the fire from the _Richard_ was
+far weaker than before.
+
+Commodore Jones walked hastily to the gun-deck.
+
+"Dick," said he to Lieutenant Dale, "this fellow's metal is too heavy
+for us at this business. He is hammering us all to pieces. We must
+close with him! We must get hold of him! Be prepared at any moment to
+abandon this place and bring what men you have left on the
+spar-deck--and give them the small arms for boarding when you come
+up."
+
+Lieutenant Dale saluted.
+
+"All right!" cried he. "I'll be with you in a jiffy, Commodore."
+
+As Jones walked hastily to the main deck--the Lieutenant ran to the
+store-room and dealt out cutlasses, pistols and pikes, to the eager
+men. The deck was red with blood.
+
+The worst carnage of all was at "number two" gun of the forward,
+starboard division. From the first broadside until the quarter-deck
+was abandoned, nineteen different men were on this gun, and, at this
+time, only one of the original crew remained. It was the little
+Indian, Antony Jeremiah; or, as his mates called him, "Red Cherry."
+
+"Let me join you," he cried, as he saw Mayrant's boarding party.
+Seizing a cutlass and dirk, he stood beside the cluster of men, eager
+and keen to have a chance at the enemy. A soul of fire was that of the
+little savage--and now he had a splendid opportunity to indulge in the
+natural blood-thirst of his race, for an Indian loves a good fight,
+particularly when he is upon the winning side.
+
+The vessels swung on slowly--the fire from the _Serapis_ still strong
+and accurate; the sputtering volleys from the _Richard_ growing weaker
+and weaker. Only three of the nine-pounders on the starboard
+quarter-deck were serviceable; the entire gun-deck battery was silent
+and abandoned.
+
+"We have him," cheerfully cried Captain Pearson to one of his aides.
+"But, hello"--he continued, "what sail is that?"
+
+As he spoke the _Alliance_ came bounding across the waves, headed for
+the two combatants, and looking as if she were to speedily close the
+struggle.
+
+"The fight is at an end," said Jones, jubilantly.
+
+Imagine his astonishment, chagrin, and mortification! Instead of
+pounding the English vessel, the French ally discharged a broadside
+full into the stern of the _Richard_, ran off to the northward, close
+hauled, and soon was beyond gun-shot.
+
+"Coward!" shouted John Paul, shaking his fist at the retreating ally.
+"I'll get even with you for this if it takes me twenty years!"
+
+No wonder he was angered, for, with his main battery completely
+silenced, his ship beginning to sink, nearly half his crew disabled,
+his wheel shot away, and his consort firing into him, there remained
+but one chance of victory for John Paul Jones: to foul the enemy and
+board her.
+
+Luckily a spare tiller had been fitted to the rudder stem of the
+_Richard_ below the main tiller--before leaving port--because of the
+fear that the wheel would be disabled. The foresight of the Commodore
+had effected this; and now--by means of this extra steering-gear--the
+battered warrior-ship was enabled to make one, last, desperate lunge
+for victory. It was touch and go with John Paul Jones.
+
+"I could distinctly hear his voice amid the crashing of musketry,"
+says a seaman. "He was cheering on the French marines in their own
+tongue, uttering such imprecations upon the enemy as I have never
+before or since heard in French, or any other language. He exhorted
+them to take good aim, pointed out the object of their fire, and
+frequently took their loaded muskets from their hands in order to
+shoot them himself. In fact, towards the very last, he had about him a
+group of half a dozen marines who did nothing but load their firelocks
+and hand them to the Commodore; who fired them from his own shoulder,
+standing on the quarter-deck rail by the main topmast backstay."
+
+Luck now came to the disabled _Richard_. A fortunate puff of wind
+struck and filled her sails, shooting her alongside of the growling
+_Serapis_, and to windward. The canvas of the Britisher flapped
+uselessly against her spars. She was blanketed and lost steering-way.
+In a moment the jib-boom of the English vessel ran over the poop-deck
+of the American ship. It was seized, grappled by a turn of small
+hawsers, and made fast to the mizzen-mast.
+
+"She's ours!" cried John Paul Jones. "Seize that anchor and splice it
+down hard!"
+
+As he spoke, the fluke of the starboard anchor of the _Serapis_ hooked
+in the mizzen chains. It was lashed fast, and the _Richard_ had been
+saved.
+
+_Rattle! Rattle! Crash!_ sounded the muskets of the French marines.
+The English tried to cut their anchor chains and get free, but all who
+attempted to sever these hawsers were struck dead by the accurate
+balls from the marksmen on the poop-deck and round-house of the
+_Richard_.
+
+"I demand your surrender!" shouted Pearson.
+
+[Illustration: From an old print.
+    "THEY SWARMED INTO THE FORECASTLE AMIDST FIERCE CHEERS."]
+
+"Surrender?" cried John Paul Jones. "Why, I am just beginning to
+fight!"
+
+Then he turned to John Mayrant, who stood ready to rush across the
+hammock-nettings into the waist of the enemy's ship. Twenty-seven
+sailors were nearby, each with a cutlass and two ship's pistols.
+
+"Board 'em!" he cried.
+
+Over the rail went the seamen--monkey-wise--over the rail, John
+Mayrant leading with a dirk in his teeth, like a Bermuda pirate. They
+swarmed into the forecastle amidst fierce cheers, the rattle of
+musketry, and the hiss of flames. Just at the moment that John
+Mayrant's feet struck the enemy's deck, a sailor thrust a
+boarding-pike through the fleshy part of his right thigh. _Crack!_ a
+pistol spat at him, and he fell prostrate.
+
+"Remember Portsea jail! Remember Portsea jail!" cried the dauntless
+raider, rushing down into the forecastle with his wild, yelping
+sailors. Pearson stood there; crest-fallen--abashed.
+
+Seizing the ensign-halyards of the _Serapis_, as the raging torrent of
+seamen rolled towards him, the brave English sea-captain hauled the
+flag of his ship to the deck.
+
+The _Richard_ had won!
+
+"He has struck; stop firing! Come on board and take possession!"
+yelled Mayrant, running to the rail.
+
+Lieutenant Dale heard him, and, swinging himself on the side of the
+_Serapis_, made his way to the quarter-deck, where Captain Pearson was
+standing. "I have the honor, sir, to be the first Lieutenant of the
+vessel alongside," said he saluting. "It is the American Continental
+ship _Bon Homme Richard_, under command of Commodore Paul Jones. What
+vessel is this?"
+
+"His Britannic Majesty's late man-of-war the _Serapis_, sir," was the
+sad response, "and I am Captain Richard Pearson."
+
+"Pardon me, sir," said the American officer, "in the haste of the
+moment I forgot to inform you that my name is Richard Dale and I must
+request you to pass on board the vessel alongside."
+
+Pearson nodded dejectedly.
+
+As he did so, the first Lieutenant of the _Serapis_ came up from
+below, and, looking at Captain Pearson, asked,
+
+"Has the enemy struck, sir?"
+
+"No, sir! _I_ have struck!" was the sad reply.
+
+"Then, I will go below and order our men to cease firing," continued
+the English Lieutenant.
+
+But Lieutenant Dale interrupted.
+
+"Pardon me, sir," said he, "I will attend to that; and, as for
+yourself, please accompany Captain Pearson on board the ship
+alongside."
+
+With reluctant steps the two officers clambered aboard the battered
+_Good Richard_, where Commodore Jones received them with much
+courtesy.
+
+Bowing low, Captain Pearson offered him his sword. His first
+Lieutenant did likewise.
+
+"Captain Pearson," said the victorious John Paul, "you have fought
+heroically. You have worn this weapon to your own credit and to the
+honor of your service. I hope that your sovereign will suitably
+reward you."
+
+The British commander was the image of chagrin and despair. He bowed
+again, and then walked slowly into the cabin, followed by his
+crest-fallen Lieutenant.
+
+It was nearly midnight. The full moon above--in a cloudless sky--made
+it almost as light as day. Seven feet of water were in the hold of the
+_Richard_; she had sunk so much that many shot-holes were below the
+water-line and could not be plugged. Nearly sixty of her crew lay dead
+upon her decks; more than a hundred and twenty were desperately
+wounded. Every twelve-pounder of the starboard broadside was either
+dismounted, or disabled. The starboard side, which had been opposite
+the _Serapis_'s eighteen-pounders, was driven so far in, that, but for
+a few frames and stanchions which remained, the whole gun-deck would
+have fallen through. She was afire, and the flames licked upward with
+an eager hiss.
+
+"Take the wounded aboard the _Serapis_!" commanded Captain Jones. "We
+must desert our good ship!"
+
+In an hour's time all were upon the deck of the vanquished Britisher.
+No one was left on the _Richard_ but the dead. The torn and tattered
+flag was still flying from the gaff, and, as the battered sea-warrior
+gradually settled in the long swell, the unconquered ensign fluttered
+defiantly in the slight breeze. At length the _Bon Homme Richard_
+plunged downward by the head; her taffrail rose momentarily on high,
+and, with a hoarse roar of eddying bubbles and sucking air, the
+conqueror disappeared from view. To her immortal dead was bequeathed
+the flag which they had so desperately defended.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+So ended the great battle. Thus Paul Jones had made his name immortal.
+And by it he was to be known for all time.
+
+This was not the end of his career, by any means. He never again
+fought for the infant Republic of the United States. But he became an
+Admiral in the Russian Navy: battled valorously for the great Empress
+Catherine against the Turks, and died in Paris, July 18th, 1792.
+
+Buried at the French capital, his body was disinterred in the year
+1905, and brought to the United States, to be entombed with military
+honors, at Annapolis, Maryland.
+
+Paul Jones loved brave men. The braver they were the more he loved
+them. When he went ashore and happened to meet his old sailors--every
+one of whom he knew and called by his first name--they seldom failed
+to strip his pockets of the last shilling. He was generous to a fault
+and faithful to his friends. His time, his purse, his influence were
+always at the call of those who had served under him. A typical
+sea-dog: a brave fighter,--
+
+Then, why not give three times three for John Paul Jones?
+
+Are you ready?
+
+
+
+
+THE ESCAPE
+
+
+    'Tis of a gallant, Yankee ship that flew the Stripes and Stars,
+    And the whistling wind from the west-nor'-west blew through her
+        pitch-pine spars:
+    With her starboard tacks aboard, my Boys, she hung upon the gale;
+    On the Autumn night, that we passed the light, on the old Head of
+        Kinsale.
+
+    It was a clear and cloudless eve, and the wind blew steady and
+        strong,
+    As gayly, o'er the sparkling deep, our good ship bowled along;
+    With the foaming seas beneath her bow, the fiery waves she spread,
+    And, bending low her bosom of snow, she buried her lee cat-head.
+
+    There was no talk of short'ning sail, by him who walked the poop,
+    And, under the press of her pounding jib, the boom bent like a hoop!
+    And the groaning, moaning water-ways, told the strain that held the
+        tack,
+    But, he only laughed, as he glanced aloft, at the white and silvery
+        track.
+
+    The mid-tide met in the Channel waves that flow from shore to shore,
+    And the mist hung heavy upon the land, from Featherstone to Dunmore,
+    And that sterling light in Tusker Rock, where the old bell tolls
+        each hour,
+    And the beacon light, that shone so bright, was quenched on Waterford
+        tower.
+
+    What looms upon our starboard bow? What hangs upon the breeze?
+    'Tis time that our good ship hauled her wind, abreast the old
+        Saltees,
+    For, by her pond'rous press of sail, and by her consorts four,
+    We saw that our morning visitor, was a British Man-of-War.
+
+    Up spoke our noble Captain--then--as a shot ahead of us passed,--
+    "Haul snug your flowing courses! Lay your topsail to the mast!"
+    Those Englishmen gave three loud cheers, from the deck of their
+        covered ark,
+    And, we answered back by a solid broad-side, from the side of our
+        patriot barque.
+
+    "_Out booms! Out booms!_" our skipper cried, "_Out booms! and give
+        her sheet!_"
+    And the swiftest keel that e'er was launched, shot ahead of the
+        British fleet,
+    'Midst a thundering shower of shot,--and with stern-sails hoisting
+        away,
+    Down the North Race _Paul Jones_ did steer, just at the break of day.
+
+                    --_Old Ballad._
+
+
+
+
+CAPTAIN SILAS TALBOT
+
+STAUNCH PRIVATEERSMAN OF NEW ENGLAND
+
+(1751-1813)
+
+
+    "If you want ter learn how ter fight, why jest
+    fight."--_Dock-end Philosophy._
+
+
+CAPTAIN SILAS TALBOT
+
+STAUNCH PRIVATEERSMAN OF NEW ENGLAND
+
+(1751-1813)
+
+    "Talk about your clipper ships, chipper ships, ripper ships,
+    Talk about your barquentines, with all their spars so fancy,
+    I'll just take a sloop-o'-war with Talbot, with Talbot,
+    An' whip 'em all into 'er chip, an' just to suit my fancy.
+
+    "So, heave away for Talbot, for Talbot, for Talbot,
+    So, heave away for Talbot, an' let th' Capting steer,
+    For, he's the boy to smack them, to crack them, to whack them,
+    For he's th' boy to ship with, if you want to privateer."
+
+                    --_Ballads of Rhode Island._--1782.
+
+
+A trading vessel, laden with wheat, from Cardigan in Wales, was lying
+to in the English Channel. Nearby rolled a long-bodied American
+Privateer, while a boat neared the trader, in the stern of which sat a
+staunch, weather-beaten officer in a faded pea-jacket. It was the year
+1813 and war was on between England and the United States.
+
+When the blustering captain entered the cabin to survey his prize, he
+spied a small box with a hole in the top, on which was inscribed the
+words, "Missionary Box." He drew back, astonished.
+
+"Pray, my bold seaman," said he, turning to the Welsh captain, "what
+is this?"
+
+"Oh," replied the honest, old sailor, heaving a sigh, "'tis all over
+now."
+
+"What?" asked the American privateersman.
+
+"Why, the truth is," said the Welshman, "that I and my poor fellows
+have been accustomed, every Monday morning, to drop a penny each into
+that box for the purpose of sending out missionaries to preach the
+Gospel to the heathen; but it's all over now."
+
+The American seemed to be much abashed.
+
+"Indeed," said he, "that is very good of you." And, pausing a few
+moments, he looked abstractedly into the air, humming a tune beneath
+his breath.
+
+"Captain," said he, at length, "I'll not hurt a hair of your head, nor
+touch your vessel."
+
+So saying, he turned on his heel, took to his boat, and left the
+Welshman to pursue its even course. And--as the privateer filled away
+to starboard--a voice came from the deck of the helpless merchantman,
+
+"God bless Captain Silas Talbot and his crew!"
+
+But we do not know what the owners of the privateer said to the humane
+skipper about this little affair when he returned to New York. They
+might have uttered hard words about a Welshman who scored upon him by
+means of a pious fraud. At any rate Silas Talbot had done a good deed.
+
+This valorous privateer was born at Dighton, Massachusetts, on the
+Sakonet River about the year 1752; beginning his career at sea as a
+cabin-boy. At twenty-four he was a captain in the United States army
+and fought in the Revolutionary war, for a time, on land. But--by
+reason of his nautical training--he was placed in command of a
+fireship at New York, and was soon promoted to be Major--but still
+with duties upon the water and not the shore. While here, a soldier
+came to him, one day, with his eyes alight in excitement.
+
+"Major," said he, "there's a chance for a splendid little enterprise.
+Just off the coast of Rhode Island, near Newport, lies a British
+vessel, moored to a kedge. She mounts fifteen guns and around her is
+stretched a stout netting to keep off a party of boarders. But we can
+cut it and get through, I'll warrant. And the game is worth the
+candle."
+
+Young Talbot was delighted at the thought of a little expedition.
+
+"I'll tell you how we'll cut through," said he. "We'll fix a small
+anchor at the bowsprit of our sloop. Then, we'll ram her into the
+netting at night, and--if our vessel can punch hard enough--we'll have
+forty Americans upon the deck before you can say 'Jack Robinson.'"
+
+The soldier laughed.
+
+"Major Talbot," said he, "you are a true fighting man. I'll have a
+crew for you within twenty-four hours and we'll take the good sloop
+_Jasamine_, lying off of Hell Gate. Ahoy for the capture of the
+Englishman!"
+
+In two days' time, all was ready for the expedition. The sloop
+_Jasamine_ slowly drifted into the harbor of New York, an anchor
+spliced to her bowsprit, a crew of sturdy adventurers aboard; and,
+filling away in a stout sou'wester, rolled down the coast in the
+direction of Rhode Island. Reaching the vicinity of Newport, she lay
+to behind a sheltering peninsula, waiting for the night to come, so
+that she could drop down upon the Englishman under the cloak of
+darkness.
+
+Blackness settled upon the still and waveless water. With muffled oars
+the sloop now glided towards the dark hull of the British gun-boat;
+her men armed to the teeth, with fuses alight, and ready to touch off
+the cannon at the slightest sign of discovery. All was still upon the
+towering deck of the war-vessel and the little lights twinkled at her
+bow.
+
+But what was that?
+
+Suddenly a voice came through the darkness.
+
+"Who goes there?"
+
+No answer came but the dip of the oars in unison.
+
+"Who goes there? Answer, or I fire!"
+
+Again the slow beat of the oars and nothing more.
+
+_Crash!_
+
+A musket spoke from the jutting bow in front of the sloop and a bullet
+struck in the foremast of the staunch attacker, with a resounding
+z-i-n-n-g!
+
+"We're discovered," whispered Talbot. "Pull for your lives, men, and
+punch her like a battering-ram. When we've cut through the netting,
+let every fellow dash upon her decks, and fight for every inch you
+can."
+
+As he ceased speaking, the bow of the sloop struck the roping
+stretched around the man-o'-warsman, and a ripping and tearing was
+plainly heard above the crash of small arms, the shouts of men, and
+the rumble of hawsers. Two cannon spoke from the side of the
+Englishman, and, as their roar echoed across the still ocean, the
+guns of the _Jasamine_ belched forth their answer.
+
+[Illustration: "TALBOT, HIMSELF, AT THE HEAD OF HIS ENTIRE CREW, CAME
+LEAPING ACROSS THE SIDE."]
+
+The anchor attached to the bowsprit had done what was desired. It tore
+a great hole in the stout netting, ripped open a breach sufficiently
+wide for entrance to the deck, and, as the cannon grumbled and spat at
+the sloop,--the bowsprit was black with jack-tars scrambling for an
+opportunity to board the Britisher.
+
+"Now, men," shouted Major Talbot, above the din. "Swing our craft
+sideways! Let go the port guns, and then let every mother's son rush
+the foe! And your cry must be, 'Death and no quarter!'"
+
+As he ceased, the good _Jasamine_ was forced sideways into the
+man-o'-warsman, and, propelled by the current, drifted against her
+with tremendous force, crushing the remaining nets as she did so. A
+few of the Americans were already on the deck in a terrific struggle
+with the half-sleepy English seamen, but--in a moment--Talbot,
+himself, at the head of his entire crew, came leaping across the side.
+
+Now was a scene of carnage. The cutlasses of both Yankee tar and
+British, were doing awful execution, and pistols were cracking like
+hail upon the roof. Back, back, went the English before the vigorous
+assault of the stormers, and, as the deck was now piled with the dead
+and dying, the commander of the man-o'-warsman cried out,
+
+"I surrender! Cease, you Yankee sea-dogs. You're too smart for me!"
+
+So saying, he held up a handkerchief tied to his cutlass, and the
+battle ceased.
+
+The story of the fight of Silas Talbot's was now on every lip, and
+all praised the daring and courage of this valorous Major, who was as
+bold as a lion, and as courageous as any seaman who sailed upon the
+sea.
+
+Promotion came rapidly to the soldier-sailor. In 1779 he became a
+colonel and was placed in command of the _Argo_, a sloop of about one
+hundred tons, armed with twelve six-pounders, and carrying but sixty
+men. 'Tis said that she looked like a "clumsy Albany trader," with one
+great, rakish mast, an immense mainsail, and a lean boom. Her tiller
+was very lengthy, she had high bulwarks and a wide stern--but, in
+spite of her raw appearance, she could sail fast and could show a
+clean pair of heels to most vessels of twice her size.
+
+Shortly after taking charge of this privateer, word was brought that
+Captain Hazard of the privateer _King George_ was off the coast of
+Rhode Island.
+
+"That's what I want," cried Captain Talbot, slapping his knee. "This
+fellow Hazard is an American. He was born in Rhode Island, and,
+instead of joining in our righteous cause against the Mother Country,
+he has elected to fight against us. For the base purpose of plundering
+his old neighbors and friends, he has fitted out the _King George_ and
+has already done great damage on the coast. Let me but catch the old
+fox and I'll give him a taste of American lead. I'll put a stop to the
+depredations of this renegade."
+
+The _King George_ had fourteen guns and eighty men, but this did not
+worry staunch and nervy Silas Talbot. He started in pursuit of her, as
+soon as he learned of her whereabouts, and, before many days, sighted
+a sail just off the New York coast, which was hoped to be the vessel
+of the renegade.
+
+Mile after mile was passed. Hour by hour the _Argo_ ploughed after the
+silvery sails, until, late in the afternoon, the stranger hovered near
+a shallow harbor on the coast, and seemed to await the on-coming
+privateer with full confidence.
+
+The _Argo_ boomed along under a spanking sou'wester and, sailing near
+the stranger, to the keen eyes of Talbot came the welcome sight of
+_King George_ painted upon the stern of the rakish privateer.
+
+"All hands man the guns," cried he. "We'll sink th' rascally Hazard
+with all his crew, unless he strikes. She's got more men and guns, but
+what care we for that. Take hold, my Hearties, and we'll soon make her
+know her master."
+
+The _King George_ seemed to welcome the coming fight; she luffed; lay
+to; and her men could be seen standing ready at the polished cannon.
+Now was one of the strangest battles of American sea history.
+
+The _King George_ cruised along under a full spread of canvas, jibbed,
+came about upon the port quarter of the stranger, and ran up to within
+shooting distance, when a broadside was poured into the deck of the
+rolling _Argo_. She replied with her own fourteen guns, and, before
+they could be reloaded, the _King George_ struck her alongside; the
+American seaman swarmed across the rail; and--if we are to believe a
+historian of the period--"drove the crew of _King George_ from their
+quarters, taking possession of her, without a man on either side being
+killed." Hats off to the doughty Silas Talbot for this brave
+adventure! Did you ever hear of such a fight with no man ever being
+slaughtered?
+
+Again rang the fame of Silas Talbot, but he was not to rest long upon
+laurels won. The British privateer _Dragon_--of three hundred tons and
+eighty men--was hovering near Providence, Rhode Island, hungry and
+eager for unprotected merchantmen.
+
+"I'll have to strike her," said Captain Talbot.
+
+It was a beautiful day in June. As the _Dragon_ drowsed along
+listlessly a dozen miles off the shore, her topsails barely filling in
+the gentle southerly breeze, the watch suddenly stirred, and sang out
+in no gentle tones,
+
+"Sail ho, off the starboard! Looks like Captain Talbot of the _Argo_!"
+
+The captain came bounding from his cabin, glass in hand.
+
+"Sure enough," said he, scanning the white sails upon the horizon.
+"It's Talbot and we're in for a tight affair. All hands prepare for
+action!"
+
+There was noise and confusion upon the deck of the privateer as the
+guns were sponged, charges were rammed home, and all prepared for
+battle. Meanwhile, the stranger came nearer, and rounding to within
+striking distance, crashed a broadside into the slumbering _Dragon_,
+who had not yet shown her fangs.
+
+_Crackle! Crackle! Boom!_
+
+The small arms from the Britisher began to spit at the advancing
+privateer, and seven of her fourteen guns rang out a welcome to the
+sailors of Rhode Island. The solid shot ploughed through the rigging,
+cutting ropes and spars with knife-like precision.
+
+"Round her to on the port quarter!" shouted Captain Talbot, "and get
+near enough for boarding!"
+
+But, as the _Argo_ swung near her antagonist, the _Dragon_ dropped
+away--keeping just at pistol-shot distance.
+
+"Run her down!" yelled the stout Rhode Islander, as he saw this
+manoeuvre of his wily foe. Then he uttered an exclamation of disgust,
+for, as he spoke, a bullet struck his speaking trumpet; knocking it to
+the deck, and piercing it with a jagged hole.
+
+"Never mind!" cried he, little disconcerted at the mishap. "Give it to
+her, boys!"
+
+Then he again uttered an exclamation, for a bounding cannon
+ball--ricochetting from the deck--took off the end of his
+coat-tail.[1]
+
+    [1] A true incident vouched for by two historians.
+
+"I'll settle with you for that," yelled the old sea-dog, leaping to a
+cannon, and, pointing it himself, he touched the fuse to the vent. A
+puff of smoke, a roar, and a ball ploughed into the mainmast of the
+rocking _Dragon_.
+
+Talbot smiled with good humor.
+
+"Play for that, my brave fellows," he called out, above the din of
+battle. "Once get the mainmast overside, and we can board her."
+
+With a cheer, his sailors redoubled their efforts to sink the
+_Dragon_, and solid shot fairly rained into her hull, as the two
+antagonists bobbed around the rolling ocean in this death grapple.
+Thus they sparred and clashed for four and a half hours, when, with a
+great splitting of sails and wreck of rigging, the mainmast of the
+_Dragon_ trembled, wavered, and fell to leeward with a sickening thud.
+
+"She's ours!" yelled Captain Talbot, through his dented speaking
+trumpet.
+
+Sure enough, the _Dragon_ had had enough. Her wings had been clipped,
+and, in a moment more, a white flag flew from her rigging.
+
+"The _Argo_ is sinking! The _Argo_ is sinking!" came a cry, at this
+moment.
+
+"Inspect the sides of our sloop," cried Talbot.
+
+This was done, immediately, and it was found that there were numerous
+shot-holes between wind and water, which were speedily plugged up.
+Then, bearing down upon the crippled _Dragon_, she was boarded; a
+prize-crew was put aboard; and the _Argo_ steered for home, her men
+singing,
+
+    "Talk about your gay, old cocks,
+        Yankee, Doodle, Dandy,
+    'Si' Talbot he can heave the blocks,
+        And stick like pepp'mint candy.
+
+        "Yankee--Doodle--Shoot and kill,
+        Yankee--Doodle--Dandy,
+        Yankee--Doodle--Back an' fill,
+        Yankee--Doodle--Dandy."
+
+Silas Talbot, in fact, had done extremely well, but, not content with
+his laurels already won, he soon put out again upon the _Argo_, in
+company with another privateer from Providence, Rhode Island, called
+the _Saratoga_; which sailed under a Captain Munro. They were not off
+the coast more than two days when they came across the _Dublin_; a
+smart, English privateer-cutter of fourteen guns, coming out of Sandy
+Hook. Instead of running away, she ploughed onward, and cleared for
+action.
+
+The _Argo_ and the _Saratoga_ ran in upon the windward quarter and
+banged away with audacity. The fight lasted for an hour. Then--as the
+_Argo_ tacked in closer in order to grapple and board--the _Saratoga_
+was headed for the privateer. But--instead of coming in--she began to
+run off in the wind.
+
+"Hard a-weather! Hard up there with the helm!" cried Captain Munro.
+
+"It is hard up!" cried the steersman.
+
+"You lie, you blackguard!" cried Munro. "She goes away lasking! Hard
+a-weather I say again!"
+
+"It is hard a-weather, I say again, captain," cried the fellow at the
+tiller.
+
+"Captain Talbot thinks that I am running away when I want to join
+him," cried Munro. "What the deuce is the matter anyway?"
+
+"Why, I can tell you," cried a young Lieutenant. "You've got an iron
+tiller in place of the wooden one, and she's loose in the rudder head,
+so your boat won't steer correctly."
+
+"Egad, you're right," said Munro, as he examined the top of the
+tiller. "Now, jam her over and we'll catch this _Dublin_ of old
+Ireland, or else I'm no sailor. We'll give her a broadside, too, when
+we come up."
+
+The _Argo_, meanwhile, was hammering the Englishman in good fashion,
+and, as the _Saratoga_ pumped a broadside into her--raking her from
+bow to stern--the _Dublin_ struck her colors.
+
+"Two to one, is too much odds," cried the English captain, as a boat
+neared the side of his vessel. "I could have licked either of you,
+alone."
+
+And, at this, both of the American privateersmen chuckled.
+
+Old "Si" Talbot was soon in another fight. Three days later he chased
+another sail, and coming up with her, found his antagonist to be the
+_Betsy_: an English privateer of twelve guns and fifty-eight men,
+commanded by an honest Scotchman.
+
+The _Argo_ ranged up alongside and Talbot hailed the stranger. After a
+bit of talk he hoisted the Stars and Stripes, crying,
+
+"You must haul down those British colors, my friend!"
+
+To which the Scot replied:
+
+"Notwithstanding I find you an enemy, as I suspected, yet, sir, I
+believe that I shall let them hang a little longer, with your
+permission. So fire away, Flanagan!"
+
+"And that I'll do," yelled Talbot. "Flanagan will be O'Toole and
+O'Grady before the morning's over. For I'll beat you like an Irish
+constable from Cork."
+
+So it turned out. Before an hour was past, the _Betsy_ had struck, the
+captain was killed, and all of his officers were wounded.
+
+"Old Si"--you see--had had good luck. So well, indeed, had he fought,
+that in 1780 he was put in command of a good-sized vessel, the
+_General Washington_. In her he cruised about Sandy Hook in search of
+spoil.
+
+One hazy day in August, the watch sang out,
+
+"Several sail astern, Sir! Looks like a whole squadron!"
+
+Talbot seized the glass and gazed intently at the specks of white.
+
+"Egad! It _is_ a squadron," said he, at length. "And they're after me.
+Crowd on every stitch of canvas and we'll run for it."
+
+So all sail was hoisted, and the _General Washington_ stood out to
+sea.
+
+But the sails of the pursuers grew strangely clear. They came closer,
+ever closer, and Talbot paced the deck impatiently.
+
+"Gad Zooks!" cried he, "I wish that I could fly like a bird."
+
+He could not fly, and, in two hours' time the red flag on the foremast
+of a British brig was clear to the eyes of the crew of the privateer.
+When--an hour later--a solid shot spun across his bow, "Old Si" Talbot
+hove to, and ran up the white flag. He was surrounded by six vessels
+of the English and he felt, for once, that discretion was the better
+part of valor.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"Old Si" was now thrown into a prison ship off Long Island and then
+was taken to England aboard the _Yarmouth_. Imprisoned at Dartmoor, he
+made four desperate attempts to escape. All failed.
+
+In the summer of 1781 he was liberated; found his way home to Rhode
+Island; and died "with his boots on" in New York, June 30th, 1813. The
+old sea-dogs of his native state still cherish the memory of "Capting
+Si;" singing a little song, which runs:
+
+              "He could take 'er brig or sloop, my boy,
+              An' fight her like 'er man.
+              He could steer 'er barque or barquentine,
+              An' make her act jest gran!
+              'Ole Si' wuz 'er rip-dazzler,
+              His flag wuz never struck,
+              Until 'er British squadroon,
+              Jest catched him in th' ruck.
+
+    "So drink 'er drop ter 'Ole Si,' Sky-high, Oh my!
+    Drink 'er glass ter 'Ole Si,' th' skipper from our kentry.
+    Give three cheers fer 'Ole Si,' Sky-high, Oh my!
+    Give three cheers fer 'Ole Si,' th' pride o' Newport's gentry."
+
+
+[Illustration: From "The Army and Navy of the United States."
+    AMERICAN PRIVATEER CAPTURING TWO ENGLISH SHIPS.]
+
+
+
+
+CAPTAIN "JOSH" BARNEY
+
+THE IRREPRESSIBLE YANKEE
+
+(1759-1818)
+
+
+    "Never strike your flag until you have to. And if you
+    have to, why let it come down easy-like, with one, last
+    gun,--fer luck."--_Maxims of 1812._
+
+
+CAPTAIN "JOSH" BARNEY
+
+THE IRREPRESSIBLE YANKEE
+
+(1759-1818)
+
+    If you would hear of fighting brave,
+    Of war's alarms and prisons dark,
+    Then, listen to the tale I tell,
+    Of Yankee pluck--and cruising barque,
+    Which, battling on the rolling sea,
+    There fought and won,--Can such things be?
+
+
+It was about eight o'clock in the evening. The moon was bright, and as
+the privateer _Pomona_ swung along in the fresh breeze, her Captain,
+Isaiah Robinson of New York, laid his hand softly upon the shoulder of
+his first officer, Joshua Barney, saying,
+
+"A ship off the lee-quarter, Barney, she's an Englishman, or else my
+name's not Robinson."
+
+Barney raised his glass.
+
+"A British brig, and after us, too. She's a fast sailer and is
+overhauling us. But we'll let her have a broadside from our twelve
+guns and I believe that we can stop her."
+
+The _Pomona_ carried thirty-five men. Laden with tobacco for Bordeaux,
+France, she was headed for that sunny land,--but all ready for a
+fight, if one should come to her. And for this she carried twelve
+guns, as her first officer had said.
+
+The British boat came nearer and nearer. Finally she was close enough
+for a voice to be heard from her deck, and she ran up her colors. A
+cry came from the black body,
+
+"What ship is that?"
+
+There was no reply, but the Stars and Stripes were soon floating from
+the mainmast of the American.
+
+"Haul down those colors!" came from the Britisher.
+
+There was no answer, but the _Pomona_ swung around so that her port
+guns could bear, and a clashing broadside plunged into the pursuer.
+Down came her fore-topsail, the rigging cut and torn in many places,
+and, as the American again showed her heels, the British captain cried
+out,
+
+"All sail aloft and catch the saucy and insolent privateer!"
+
+Then commenced one of the most interesting running actions of American
+naval history.
+
+"The cursed American has no stern-gun ports," said the British
+sea-captain. "So keep the ship abaft, and on th' port quarter, where
+we can let loose our bow-guns and get little in return."
+
+This was done, but--if we are to believe an old chronicler of the
+period--"The British crew had been thrown into such confusion by the
+_Pomona_'s first broadside that _they were able to fire only one or
+two shots every half hour_."
+
+"By Gad," cried Joshua Barney to Captain Robinson, about this time,
+"let's cut a hole in our stern, shove a cannon through it, and whale
+the British landlubber as he nears us for another shot with her
+bow-chasers."
+
+The captain grinned.
+
+"A good idea, Barney, a good idea," he chuckled. "Now we can teach her
+to keep clear of us."
+
+So a three-pounder soon poked her nose through the stern, and, when
+the proud Britisher again came up for one of her leisurely discharges,
+she received a dose of grape which made her captain haul off
+precipitously. Nor did he venture near again for another shot at the
+saucy fugitive.
+
+When daylight came, sixteen guns were counted upon the British brig.
+
+"By George!" shouted Barney. "See those officers in the rigging. She's
+a gun-ship--a regular ship-of-war."
+
+But Captain Robinson laughed.
+
+"That's an old game," said he. "They're tryin' to fool us into the
+belief that she's a real gun-boat, so's we'll surrender immediately.
+But see--she's drawin' near again--and seems as if she's about to
+board us from the looks of her crew."
+
+Barney gazed intently at the stranger.
+
+"You're right," said he. "Load the three-pounder with grape-shot."
+
+"And here's a crow-bar as'll top it off nice," put in a sailor.
+
+Captain Robinson laughed.
+
+"Yes, spike her in, too. She'll plunk a hole clear through th'
+rascal," he cried. "I'll touch her off myself."
+
+The British gun-boat drew nearer and nearer. Just as she was within
+striking distance--about ten yards--the three-pounder was touched off
+with a deaf'ning roar.
+
+"So accurate was the aim," says an old historian, "that the British
+were completely baffled in their attempt; their foresails and all
+their weather foreshrouds being cut away."
+
+"Give her a broadside!" called out Captain Robinson, as the brig
+sheered off in order to support its foremast, which tottered with its
+own weight; the rigging which supported it, being half cut away. And,
+as he spoke--the crew let drive a shower of balls and grape-shot. It
+was the last volley.
+
+The _Pomona_ kept upon her course, while the white sails of the
+attacker grew fainter and fainter upon the horizon.
+
+"I saw her name as she ranged in close to us," said Joshua Barney,
+slapping Captain Robinson on the back. "And it was the _Rosebud_."
+
+"I reckon that _Rosebud_ has no thorns left," chuckled Captain
+Robinson, and he was still chuckling when the little _Pomona_ safely
+sailed into the harbor of Bordeaux in France. The voyage had been a
+success.
+
+Here a store of guns, powder and shot was purchased, and, having
+shipped a cargo of brandy, and raised the crew to seventy men, the
+staunch, little vessel set sail for America.
+
+Not three days from the coast of France the cry of "Sail ho!" startled
+all on board, and, upon the starboard quarter--loomed a British
+privateer. Upon nearer view she was seen to have sixteen guns and
+seventy men.
+
+"All hands for a fight!" cried Robinson. "Don't let th' fellow
+escape."
+
+Now was a hard battle. It lasted for full two hours, and--in the
+end--the Britisher struck, with twelve killed and a number wounded,
+while the American loss was but one killed and two wounded. The
+_Pomona_ kept upon her course, jubilantly.
+
+But the saucy ship was not to have all smooth sailing. She was soon
+captured--by whom it is not known--and stout "Josh" Barney became a
+prisoner of war. In December, 1780, with about seventy American
+officers, he was placed on board the _Yarmouth_--a sixty-four-gun
+brig--and was shipped to England.
+
+Now listen to the treatment given him according to a contemporaneous
+historian. Did you ever hear of anything more atrocious?
+Peace--indeed--had more horrors than war in the year 1780.
+
+"From the time these Americans stepped aboard the _Yarmouth_ their
+captors gave it to be understood, by hints and innuendos, that they
+were being taken to England 'to be hanged as rebels;' and, indeed the
+treatment they received aboard the _Yarmouth_ on the passage over, led
+them to believe that the British officers intended to cheat the
+gallows of their prey, by causing the prisoners to die before they
+reached port.
+
+"On coming aboard the ship-of-the-line, these officers were stowed
+away in the lower hold, next to the keel, under five decks, and many
+feet below the water-line. Here, in a twelve-by-twenty-foot room, with
+upcurving floor, and only three feet high, the seventy-one men were
+kept for fifty-three days, like so much merchandise--without light or
+good air--unable to stand upright, with no means to get away.
+
+"Their food was of the poorest quality, and was supplied in such
+insufficient quantities, that, whenever one of the prisoners died, the
+survivors concealed the fact, in order that the dead man's allowance
+might be added to theirs. The water which they were served to drink
+was atrocious.
+
+"From the time the _Yarmouth_ left New York till she reached Plymouth,
+in a most tempestuous winter passage, these men were kept in this
+loathsome dungeon. Eleven died in delirium; their wild ravings and
+piercing shrieks appalling their comrades, and giving them a foretaste
+of what they, themselves, might expect. Not even a surgeon was
+permitted to visit them.
+
+"Arriving at Plymouth, the pale, emaciated men were ordered to come on
+deck. Not one obeyed, for they were unable to stand upright.
+Consequently they were hoisted up, the ceremony being grimly
+suggestive of the manner in which they had been treated,--like
+merchandise. And what were they to do, now that they had been placed
+on deck?
+
+"The light of the sun, which they had scarcely seen for fifty-three
+days, fell upon their weak, dilated pupils with blinding force; their
+limbs were unable to uphold them, their frames wasted by disease and
+want. Seeking for support, they fell in a helpless mass, one upon the
+other, waiting and almost hoping for the blow that was to fall upon
+them next. Captain Silas Talbot was one of these unfortunate
+prisoners.
+
+"To send them ashore in this condition was 'impracticable,' so the
+British officers said, and we readily discover that this
+'impracticable' served the purpose of diverting the indignation of the
+land's folk, which sure would be aroused, if they knew that such
+brutality had been practiced under the cross of St. George (the cross
+upon the British flag).
+
+"Waiting, then, until the captives could, at least, endure the light
+of day, and could walk without leaning on one another, or clutching at
+every object for support, the officers had them removed to the old
+Mill Prison."
+
+This story has been denied, for the reason that the log of the
+_Yarmouth_ shows that she was forty-four and not fifty-three days at
+sea, and the captain writes:
+
+"We had the prisoners 'watched' (divided into port and starboard
+watch) and set them to the pumps. I found it necessary so to employ
+them, the ship's company, from their weak and sickly state, being
+unequal to that duty, and, on that account to order them whole
+allowance of provisions."
+
+It would have been impossible for men to be in the condition which the
+first historian describes if they had to man the pumps. It would have
+been impossible for them to have done an hour's work. Therefore, I,
+myself, believe the second story. Don't you?
+
+But to return to stout "Josh" Barney, now meditating thoughts of
+escape in old Mill Prison. Bold and resourceful he was always, and he
+was now determined to face the difficulties of an exit and the chances
+of detection. "I must and can get away," he said.
+
+The prisoners were accustomed to play leap-frog, and one day the
+crafty "Josh" pretended that he had sprained his ankle. Constructing
+two crutches--out of pieces of boards--he limped around the
+prison-yard and completely deceived all but a few of his most intimate
+friends.
+
+One day--it was May the eighteenth, 1781--he passed a sentry near the
+inner gate. The fellow's name was Sprokett and he had served in the
+British army in America, where he had received many kindnesses from
+the country people. For this reason his heart warmed to the stout,
+young "Josh," who had often engaged him in conversation.
+
+Hopping to the gate upon his crutches, the youthful American
+whispered,
+
+"Give me a British uniform and I will get away. Can you do it?"
+
+Sprokett smiled.
+
+"Sure," said he.
+
+"To-day?"
+
+"Dinner."
+
+And this meant one o'clock, when the warders dined.
+
+"All right," whispered "Josh," smiling broadly, and he again hobbled
+around the yard.
+
+After awhile the sentry motioned for him to come nearer. He did
+so--and as he approached--a large bundle was stealthily shoved into
+his arms. He hastened to his cell and there put on the undress uniform
+of an officer of the British army.
+
+Drawing on his great-coat, he went into the yard and hobbled about
+upon his two sticks until the time drew near for the mid-day mess.
+Then he drew close to the gate.
+
+One o'clock tolled from the iron bell upon the prison rampart, and, as
+its deep-toned echoes sounded from its tower, several of Barney's
+friends engaged the half-dozen sentries in conversation. It was the
+time for action.
+
+The astute "Josh" suddenly dropped his crutches. Then--walking across
+the enclosure towards the gate,--he winked to the sentry. A companion
+was at hand. With a spring he leaped upon his shoulders. One
+boost--and he was on top of the walk. Another spring, and he had
+dropped to the other side as softly as a cat.
+
+But the second gate and sentry had to be passed.
+
+Walking up to this red-coated individual he placed four guineas (about
+$20.00) into his outstretched palm. The soldier smiled grimly, as the
+great-coat was tossed aside, and the shrewdest privateer in the
+American Navy walked towards the opening through the outer wall, which
+was usually left ajar for the convenience of the prison officials.
+Another sentry stood upon duty at this point.
+
+Barney nodded. The sentry had been "squared" (told of the coming
+escape) and so he turned his back. Thus--with his heart beating like a
+trip-hammer--"Josh," the nervy one--walked down the cobbled street
+outside of the "Old Mill." He was free.
+
+Dodging into a lane, he soon met a friend who had been told of his
+attempt, and who took him to the house of an old clergyman in
+Plymouth. In the morning, with two fellow-countrymen, who were also in
+hiding (for they had been captured as passengers in a merchant
+vessel), he secured a fishing-smack. "Josh" now covered his uniform.
+Putting on an old coat with a tarred rope tied around his waist, a
+pair of torn trousers, and a tarpaulin hat, the disguised Jack-tar ran
+the little vessel down the River Plym, just as day was dawning. The
+forts and men-of-war were safely passed, and the little shallop tossed
+upon the gleaming wavelets of the English channel.
+
+We are told that his escape was not noticed for some time because "a
+slender youth who was capable of creeping through the window-bars at
+pleasure crawled into Barney's cell (in the Old Mill Prison) and
+answered for him." I doubt this, for--if you have ever seen the bars
+of a prison--it would take a Jack Spratt to get through them, and Jack
+Spratts are not common. At any rate someone answered to the daily
+roll-call for Joshua B., so that it was full two weeks before the
+authorities knew of his escape. Perhaps there was a ventriloquist in
+the jail.
+
+The tiny boat in which the adventurous American hoped to reach the
+welcome shores of France, bobbed up and down, as she ambled towards
+the low-lying coast, under a gentle southerly breeze. But there was
+trouble in this self-same wind, for the white wings of a British
+privateer grew nearer and nearer, and a hail soon came:
+
+"What's your name, and where are you bound?"
+
+Barney and his partners in distress did not answer at all. They
+scowled as a boat was lowered from the side of their pursuer, and
+quickly splashed towards them. In not many moments, a swearing
+sea-captain swung himself upon their deck.
+
+"Who are you, you lubbers?" said he. "Where' yer papers, and where'
+yer bound to?"
+
+"I'm a British officer," replied the astute Joshua, opening his coat
+and disclosing the uniform of the service. "I am bound for France upon
+official business."
+
+The Captain snickered.
+
+"An' with two others in er' launch? Aw go tell that to th' marines!"
+
+"It's God's truth. I'm in a state secret."
+
+"Wall--be that as it may be--you must come aboard of my vessel and
+tell yer state secret to th' authorities in England. Meanwhile, I'll
+put a skipper of my own aboard yer vessel and we'll travel
+together--bein' friends."
+
+Barney swore beneath his breath.
+
+Thus the two boats beat towards the coast of Merrie England in
+company, and upon the day following, came to anchor in a small harbor,
+six miles from Plymouth. The captain of the privateer went ashore in
+order to report to Admiral Digby at Plymouth, while most of the crew
+also hastened to the beach in order to avoid the chance of being
+seized by the press-gang, which harried incoming vessels for recruits
+for His Majesty's service.
+
+"Can't I go, too?" asked the cautious "Josh."
+
+"No, you must remain on board until we come for you," said the
+captain, as he jumped into his boat en route for the shore. "Mister
+Officer, I want to search your record." Then he laughed brutishly.
+
+But Barney's thinking cap was working like a mill race. There was a
+jolly-boat tied to the stern of the privateer, and, when all were safe
+ashore, he gently slipped into this, purposely skinning his leg as he
+did so. Then he sculled to the beach; where a group of idlers stood
+looking out to sea.
+
+"Here," he cried, as he neared them. "Help me haul up this boat, will
+yer? She's awful heavy."
+
+A custom's officer was among these loiterers and he was inquisitive.
+
+"Who are you?" said he. "What regiment and where stationed, pray?"
+
+"That I cannot answer, my friend," calmly replied the acute "Josh,"
+pointing to the blood as it trickled through his stocking. "I am badly
+injured, you see, and must go away in order to get my leg tied up.
+Prithee, kind sir, can you tell me where the crew from my vessel have
+gone to?"
+
+"They are at the Red Lion at the end of the village," replied the
+official of the law. "You are, indeed, badly hurt."
+
+"Wall, I reckon," replied the American, and, stumbling up the beach,
+he was soon headed for the end of the little village.
+
+But things were not to go too well with him. He found that he was
+obliged to pass the Red Lion, and he had almost succeeded in doing so
+unmolested, when one of the sailors who was loitering outside, cried
+out after him,
+
+"Ho, friend! I would speak with you!"
+
+"Josh" had to stop although sorely tempted to run for it.
+
+"I've got some idee of shippin' in th' Navy," said the fellow, as he
+approached. "Now, friend, you can tell me somethin' of th' pay an'
+service, as you're an officer of th' army."
+
+Barney's eyes shone with pleasure, as he saw that his disguise had
+deceived the fellow.
+
+"Walk along with me towards Plymouth," said he, "and I'll explain
+everything to you. I have business there which will not wait and I
+must get on to it."
+
+So they jogged along together, talking vigorously about the Navy, but,
+in the course of half an hour the jack-tar seemed to think better of
+his plan for entering "a service noted for its cruelty to seamen," and
+turned back, saying,
+
+"Thank'ee my fine friend. Thank'ee. I'll stick to privateerin'. It's
+easier an' there's less cat-o'-nine-tails to it."
+
+As soon as his burly form disappeared down the winding road, Barney
+began to grow anxious about his safety. Perhaps a guard would be sent
+after him? Perhaps--even now--men had discovered his absence and were
+hurrying to intercept him? So--with these thoughts upon his mind--he
+jumped over a stiff hedge into the grounds of Lord Mount-Edgecumbe.
+
+"Egad! it's touch and go with me," said he, as he walked down one of
+the gravelled paths. "I'm in for it now for here comes the gardener."
+
+Sure enough, towards him ambled a middle-aged fellow, smiling as he
+pushed along a wheel-barrow filled with bulbs.
+
+Joshua walked up to him, extending his right hand.
+
+"My friend," said he, "I am an officer escaping from some seamen who
+wish my life because of a duel in which I recently engaged over the
+hand of a fair lady. Here is a guinea. It is all that I possess.
+And--if you could but pilot me to the waterside and will not tell of
+my whereabouts--I will bless you to my dying day."
+
+The good-humored man-of-the-soil smiled benignly.
+
+"Prithee, but follow me," said he, "and we'll soon see that you pass
+by the way of the water gate. Your money is most welcome, sir, for my
+wife is just now ill and doctors must be paid, sir. That you know
+right well."
+
+Barney breathed easier as they walked towards the sea; for out of the
+corner of his eye he saw a guard--sent to capture him--tramping along
+the other side of the hedge over which he had leaped.
+
+"Good-bye and good luck!" cried the kind-hearted servant as he closed
+the private gate which led to the waterside. And, with a wave of the
+hand, the fleeing American was soon hastening to the winding river,
+over which he must cross in order to get on to Plymouth.
+
+Luck was still with him. A butcher who was ferrying some beeves by
+water, took him in his boat, and, as night fell, the keen-witted
+privateersman crept through the back door of the old clergyman's house
+at Plymouth--from which he had started. For the time being, he was
+safe.
+
+Strange to relate, the two friends of the fishing-smack adventure here
+joined him once more, for they, also, had run away from the crew of
+the privateer, and--as they sat around the supper-table--the
+town-crier went by the house, bawling in harsh and discordant tones:
+
+"Five guineas reward for the capture of Joshua Barney; a rebel
+deserter from Mill Prison! Five guineas reward for this deserter! Five
+guineas! Five guineas!"
+
+But Barney stuffed his napkin into his mouth in order to stop his
+laughter.
+
+Three days later a clean-shaven, bright-cheeked, young dandy stepped
+into a post chaise, at midnight, and drove off to Exeter. At Plymouth
+gate the conveyance was stopped; a lantern was thrust into the black
+interior; and the keen eyes of the guard scanned the visages of those
+within:
+
+"He's not here," growled the watchman, lowering the light. "Drive on!"
+
+Thus Joshua Barney rolled on to home and freedom, while the
+stout-bodied soldier little guessed that the artful privateersman had
+slipped through his fingers like water through a sieve.
+
+Two months later--in the autumn of 1781--Joshua Barney: fighter,
+privateer, liar and fugitive, walked down the quiet streets of
+Beverly, Massachusetts, and a little fish-monger's son whispered to
+his companions,
+
+"Say, Boys! That feller is a Jim Dandy. He's been through more'n we'll
+ever see. Say! He's a regular Scorcher!"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Many months later--when the Revolutionary War had ended--the good ship
+_General Washington_ lay in Plymouth Harbor on the south coast of
+England. Her commander--Captain Joshua Barney--gazed contentedly at
+the Stars and Stripes as they flew jauntily from the mizzen-mast, and
+then walked to the rail, as a group of British officers came over the
+side. But there was one among these guests who was not an officer. He
+was bent, old, weather-beaten; and his dress showed him to be a tiller
+and worker of the soil. It was the aged and faithful gardener of Lord
+Mount-Edgecumbe.
+
+"You remember me?" cried the genial American, grasping the honest
+servant by the hand.
+
+The gardener's eyes were alight with pleasure.
+
+"You are the feller who jumped over the hedge--many years ago--when
+the sea-dogs were hot upon your trail."
+
+Joshua Barney chuckled.
+
+"The same," said he. "And here is a purse of gold to reward my kind
+and worthy helpmeet."
+
+So saying, he placed a heavy, chamois bag of glittering eagles into
+the trembling hands of the ancient retainer.
+
+
+
+
+THE DERELICT
+
+
+    Unmoored, unmanned, unheeded on the deep--
+    Tossed by the restless billow and the breeze,
+    It drifts o'er sultry leagues of tropic seas.
+    Where long Pacific surges swell and sweep,
+    When pale-faced stars their silent watches keep,
+    From their far rhythmic spheres, the Pleiades,
+    In calm beatitude and tranquil ease,
+    Smile sweetly down upon its cradled sleep.
+    Erewhile, with anchor housed and sails unfurled,
+    We saw the stout ship breast the open main,
+    To round the stormy Cape, and span the World,
+    In search of ventures which betoken gain.
+    To-day, somewhere, on some far sea we know
+    Her battered hulk is heaving to and fro.
+
+
+
+
+ROBERT SURCOUF
+
+THE "SEA HOUND" FROM ST. MALO
+
+(1773-1827)
+
+
+    "If you would be known never to have done anything,
+    never do it."--EMERSON.
+
+
+ROBERT SURCOUF
+
+THE "SEA HOUND" FROM ST. MALO
+
+(1773-1827)
+
+    _Parlez-vous Français?_ Yes, Monsieur,
+    I can speak like a native,--sure.
+    Then, take off your cap to the lilies of France,
+    Throw it up high, and hasten the dance.
+    For "Bobbie" Surcouf has just come to town,
+    _Tenez!_ He's worthy of wearing a crown.
+
+
+It was a sweltering, hot day in July and the good ship _Aurora_ swung
+lazily in the torpid waters of the Indian Ocean. Her decks fairly
+sizzled in the sun, and her sails flopped like huge planks of wood.
+She was becalmed on a sheet of molten brass.
+
+"I can't stand this any longer," said a young fellow with black hair
+and swarthy skin. "I'm going overboard."
+
+From his voice it was easy to see he was a Frenchman.
+
+Hastily stripping himself, he went to the gangway, and standing upon
+the steps, took a header into the oily brine. He did not come up.
+
+"Sacre nom de Dieu!" cried a sailor. "Young Surcouf be no risen. Ah!
+He has been down ze long time. Ah! Let us lower ze boat and find
+heem."
+
+"Voilà! Voilà!" cried another. "He ees drowned!"
+
+_Plunkety, plunk, splash!_ went a boat over the side, and in a moment
+more, a half dozen sailors were eagerly looking into the deep, blue
+wash of the ocean.
+
+"He no there. I will dive for heem," cried out the fellow who had
+first spoken, and, leaping from the boat, he disappeared from view.
+
+In a few moments he re-appeared, drawing the body of the first diver
+with him. It was apparently helpless. The prostrate sailor was lifted
+to the deck; rubbed, worked over, scrubbed,--but no signs of life were
+there.
+
+Meanwhile, a Portuguese Lieutenant, who was pacing the poop, appeared
+to be much pleased at what took place.
+
+"The fellow's dead! The beggar's done for,--sure. Overboard with the
+rascal! To the waves with the dead 'un!"
+
+"Give us a few more moments," cried the sailors. "He will come to!"
+
+But the Lieutenant smiled satirically.
+
+"To the waves with the corpse! To the sharks with the man from St.
+Malo!" cried he.
+
+And all of this the senseless seaman heard--for--he was in a
+cataleptic fit, where he could hear, but could not move. The
+Portuguese Lieutenant and he were bitter enemies.
+
+"Oh, I tell you, Boys, the fellow's dead!" again cried the Portuguese.
+"Over with him!"
+
+So saying, he seized the inert body with his hands; dragged it to the
+ship's side; and started to lift it to the rail.
+
+Conscious of all that went on around him, the paralyzed Surcouf
+realized that, unless he could make some sign, he had only a few
+seconds to live. So, with a tremendous effort--he made a movement of
+his limbs. It was noticed.
+
+"Voilà! Voilà!" cried a French sailor. "He ees alife. No! No! You
+cannot kill heem!"
+
+Running forward, he grabbed the prostrate form of Robert Surcouf,
+pulled it back upon the deck, and--as the Portuguese Lieutenant went
+off cursing--he rubbed the cold hands of the half-senseless man. In a
+moment the supposed corpse had opened its eyes.
+
+"Ah!" he whispered. "I had a close call. A thousand thanks to all!"
+
+In five more moments he could stand upon the deck, and--believe me--he
+did not forget the Portuguese Lieutenant!
+
+Robert Surcouf was born at St. Malo--just one hundred years after Du
+Guay-Trouin, to whom he was related. And like his famous relative he
+had been intended for the Church,--but he was always fighting; was
+insubordinate, and could not be made to study. In fact, he was what is
+known as a "holy terror."
+
+Finally good Mamma Surcouf sent him to the Seminary of St. Dinan,
+saying:
+
+"Now, Robert, be a good boy and study hard thy lessons!"
+
+And Robert said, "Oui, Madame!" But he would not work.
+
+One day the master in arithmetic did not like the method in which
+young "Bobbie" answered him, and raising a cane, he ran towards the
+youthful scholar. But Robert had learned a kind of "Jiu-Jitsu"
+practiced by the youths of France, and he tackled his irate master
+like an end-rush upon the foot-ball team, when he dives for a runner.
+Both fell to the ground with a thud. And all the other boys yelled
+"Fine!" in unison.
+
+Now was a fierce battle, but weight told, and "Bobbie" was soon
+underneath, with his teeth in the leg of his tutor. They scratched and
+rolled until "Bobbie" freed himself, and, running to the window,
+jumped outside--for he was on the ground floor--scaled the garden
+fence, and made off. Home was twenty miles away.
+
+"I must get there, somehow," said young "Bobbie." "I can never go
+back. I will be spanked so that I cannot seat myself."
+
+So little "Bob" trudged onward in the snow, for it was winter. It grew
+dark. It was bitterly cold, and he had no hat. At length--worn out
+with cold and hunger--he sank senseless to the roadside.
+
+Luck pursues those destined for greatness.
+
+Some fish-merchants happened that way, and, seeing the poor, helpless,
+little boy, they picked him up; placed him upon a tiny dog-cart; and
+carried him to St. Malo, where he had a severe attack of pneumonia.
+But his good mother nursed him through, saying:
+
+"Ta donc! He will never be a scholar. Ta donc! Young Robbie must go to
+sea!"
+
+So when "Bobbie" was well he was shipped aboard the brig _Heron_,
+bound for Cadiz, Spain--and he was only just thirteen. But he threw up
+his cap crying,
+
+"This is just what I've always wanted. Hurrah for the salty brine!"
+
+At about twenty years of age we find him upon the good ship _Aurora_
+from which his dive into the Indian Ocean came near being his last
+splash. And the Portuguese Lieutenant did not forget.
+
+Upon the next visit of the cruiser _Aurora_ to the coast of Africa an
+epidemic of malarial fever struck the crew. Among those who succumbed
+to the disease was the Portuguese Lieutenant. He was dangerously ill.
+
+The ship arrived at the island of Mauritius, and, Lieutenant Robert
+Surcouf was just going ashore, when he received a message which said:
+
+"Come and see me. I am very ill." It was from his enemy,--the
+Portuguese.
+
+Surcouf did not like the idea, but after thinking the matter over, he
+went. But note this,--he had a pair of loaded pistols in his pocket.
+Dead men--you know--tell no tales.
+
+As he entered the sick man's cabin, a servant was there. The
+Portuguese made a sign to him to retire.
+
+"I wish to speak to you with a sincere heart," said he, turning his
+face to young Surcouf. "Before I pass from this world I want to
+relieve my conscience, and ask your forgiveness for all the evil which
+I have wished you during our voyages together."
+
+"I bear you no malice," said Surcouf. "Let by-gones be by-gones."
+
+As he spoke a spasm seemed to contort the body of the dying man. One
+arm stretched out towards a pillow nearby, and Robert had a sudden,
+but excellent thought. Stepping forward, he seized the hand of his old
+enemy, lifted the pillow, and, then started back with an exclamation
+of astonishment.
+
+"Ye Gods!" cried he. "You would murder me!"
+
+There, before him, were two cocked and loaded pistols.
+
+Leaping forward he grabbed the weapons, pointing one at the forehead
+of the rascally sailor.
+
+"You miserable beast!" cried he. "I can now shoot you like a dog, or
+squash you like an insect; but I despise you too much. I will leave
+you to die like a coward."
+
+"And," says a historian, "this is what the wretched man
+did,--blaspheming in despairing rage."
+
+In October, 1794, Lieutenant Surcouf saw his first big battle, for,
+the English being at war with the French, two British men-of-war
+hovered off the island of Mauritius, blockading the port of St.
+Thomas. They were the _Centurion_ of fifty-four guns, and the
+_Diomede_, also of fifty-four cannon, but with fewer tars. The French
+had four ships of war: the _Prudente_, forty guns; the _Cybele_,
+forty-four guns; the _Jean Bart_, twenty guns; and the _Courier_,
+fourteen guns. Surcouf was junior Lieutenant aboard the _Cybele_.
+
+It was a beautiful, clear day, as the French vessels ploughed out to
+battle; their sails aquiver with the soft breeze; their pennons
+fluttering; guns flashing; and eager sailors crowding to the rails
+with cutlasses newly sharpened and pistols in their sashes.
+
+_Boom!_
+
+The first gun spoke. The first shell spun across the bow of the
+British bull-dog _Diomede_, and the battle was on.
+
+Have you ever seen a school of pollock chasing a school of smaller
+fry? Have you ever seen them jump and splash, and thud upon the
+surface of the water?
+
+Well--that is the way that the shells looked and sounded--as they
+plumped and slushed into the surface of the southern sea; and every
+now and then there was a _punk_, and a _crash_, and a _chug_, as a
+big, iron ball bit into the side of a man-of-war.
+
+Around and around sailed the sparring assailants, each looking for a
+chance to board. _Crash! Roar! Crash!_ growled the broadsides. Shrill
+screams sounded from the wounded; the harsh voices of the officers
+echoed above the din of the conflict; and, the whining bugle squealed
+ominously between the roaring crush of grape and chain-shot.
+
+But the French got nearer and nearer. Great gaps showed in the
+bulwarks of the _Diomede_; one mast was tottering. Beaten and
+outnumbered she stood out to sea, her sailors crowding into the
+rigging like monkeys, and spreading every stitch of white canvas.
+
+"She runs! Egad, she runs!" cried the Commander of the other British
+vessel. "Faith, I cannot stand off four Frenchmen alone. I must after
+her to save my scalp."
+
+So--putting his helm hard over--he threw his vessel before the wind,
+and she spun off, pursued by bouncing shells and shrieking grapnel.
+
+"Voilà!" cried the French. "Ze great battaile, eet belongs to us!" But
+there were many dead and wounded upon the decks of the proud French
+warships.
+
+Soon after this smart, little affair the soldiers and sailors who had
+been in this fight were discharged,--and--looking about for
+employment, young Robert took the first position that presented
+itself: the command of the brig _Creole_,--engaged in the slave trade.
+He made several successful voyages, but orders were issued to--
+
+    "Arrest the Slave Hunter and all his crew,
+    When they arrive at the Mauritius."
+
+One of those little birds which sometimes carry needed information,
+both on sea and land, whispered this ill news to the gallant, young
+sea-dog. So he steered for the isle of Bourbon, and there landed his
+human freight in a small bay. At daybreak he lay at anchor in the
+Harbor of St. Paul in that self-same island.
+
+About eight in the morning a boat was seen approaching, and to the
+hail,--"Who goes there?" came the reply--
+
+"Public Health Committee from St. Denis. We wish to come on board and
+to inspect your ship."
+
+Surcouf was much annoyed.
+
+"You can climb aboard," said he, stifling an exclamation of disgust.
+"I am at your service."
+
+In a few moments the commissioners were upon the deck, and, in a few
+moments more, they had discovered that the ship was a slaver.
+
+Turning to the youthful captain, one of the committee said:
+
+"You, sir, are engaged in illegal traffic. You must suffer for this,
+and must come with us at once to the city to answer an indictment
+drawn up against you."
+
+Surcouf smiled benignly.
+
+"I am at your service," said he, with a polite bow. "But do not go--I
+pray thee--until you have given me the great pleasure of partaking of
+the breakfast which my cook has hastily prepared."
+
+The Committee-men smiled.
+
+"You are very kind," said one. "We accept with pleasure."
+
+The hasty efforts of the cook proved to be most attractive. And, as
+the Commissioners smacked their lips over the good Madeira wine, the
+mate of the _Creole_ dismissed the boat which had brought the stolid
+Commissioners to the side.
+
+"The tender of our brig will take your people ashore," said he to the
+coxswain.
+
+No sooner had this tender neared the shore, than the cable of the
+_Creole_ was slipped; she left her anchorage; and quickly drew out to
+sea in a fresh sou'westerly breeze.
+
+The unaccustomed rallying soon warned the Commissioners that the
+vessel was no longer at anchor, and, rushing to the deck, they
+saw--with dismay--that a full half mile of foam-flecked ocean lay
+between them and the island.
+
+"Ye Gods!" cried one, turning to Surcouf. "What mean you by this,
+sir?"
+
+The crafty Captain was smiling like the Cheshire cat.
+
+"You are now in my power," said he--very slowly and deliberately. "I
+am going to take you to the coast of Africa among your friends--the
+negroes. You seem to prefer them to the whites, so why not, pray?
+Meanwhile,--my kind sirs,--come below and take my orders."
+
+The Commissioners were flabbergasted.
+
+"Pirate!" cried one.
+
+"Thief!" cried another.
+
+"Scamp!" shouted the third.
+
+But they went below,--mumbling many an imprecation upon the head of
+the crafty Robert Surcouf.
+
+That night the wind freshened, the waves rose, and the good ship
+_Creole_ pitched and tossed upon them, like a leaf. The Committee-men
+were very ill, for they were landsmen, and Surcouf's smile expanded.
+
+"Take us ashore! Take us ashore!" cried one. "We _must_ get upon
+land."
+
+Surcouf even laughed. Everything was as he wished.
+
+"I will land you upon one condition only," said he. "Destroy the
+indictment against me and my ship. Write a document to the effect that
+you have found no traces of slaves upon my staunch craft. Say that my
+boat was driven from her anchor by a tidal wave--and you can put your
+feet upon solid ground."
+
+The three Commissioners scowled, but he had them. Besides they were
+sea-sick.
+
+In an hour's time, the desired paper had been drawn up. The _Creole_
+was headed for the Mauritius,--and, in eight days, the sad but wiser
+Commissioners were brooding over the smartness of Robert Surcouf when
+seated in their own snug little homes. "He is a rascal," said one.
+"He's a slick and wily cur."
+
+So much reputation came to the young mariner--at this exploit--that he
+was soon offered the command of the _Emilie_: a privateer of one
+hundred and eighty tons and four guns. He accepted with glee, but when
+about to go to sea, the Governor refused him Letters of Marque.
+
+"What shall I do?" asked the crest-fallen Robert, approaching the
+owners of the trim and able craft.
+
+"Sail for the Seychelles (Islands off the east coast of Africa) for a
+cargo of turtles," said they. "If you fail to find these; fill up with
+corn, cotton and fruit. Fight shy of all English cruisers, and battle
+if you have to."
+
+Surcouf bowed.
+
+"I am not a regular privateer," he answered. "For I have no Letters of
+Marque. But I can defend myself if fired upon, and am an armed vessel
+in war-time. I may yet see some fighting."
+
+He was not to be disappointed.
+
+While at anchor at the Seychelles, two large and fat English
+men-of-war appeared in the offing. Surcouf had to run for it.
+
+Steering in among the many little islets, which here abound, he
+navigated the dangerous channels and got safely off, his men crying,
+
+"Voilà! Here is a genius. We did well to ship with such a master!"
+
+But the gallant Surcouf soon turned from privateer to pirate.
+
+South of the Bay of Bengal, a cyclone struck the _Emilie_ and she was
+steered for Rangoon, where--
+
+    "The flying fishes play,
+    An' the dawn comes up like thunder,
+    Outer China across the Bay."
+
+And here a British vessel steered for her: white-winged, saucy,
+vindictive-looking.
+
+She came on valiantly, and, when within a hundred yards, pumped a shot
+across the bow of the drowsing _Emilie_. It meant "Show your colors."
+
+Hoisting the red, white and blue of France, Surcouf replied with three
+scorching shots. One struck the Britisher amid-ships, and pumped a
+hole in her black boarding.
+
+Like a timid girl, the Englishman veered off, hoisted her topsail, and
+tried to get away. She saw that she had caught a tartar.
+
+The blood was up of the "Man from St. Malo." "I consider the shot
+across my bows as an attack," said he, and he slapped on every stitch
+of canvas, so that the _Emilie_ was soon abreast of the Britisher.
+_Boom!_ A broadside roared into her and she struck her colors. Bold
+Robert Surcouf had passed the Rubicon,--he had seen the English flag
+lowered to him, for the first time; and his heart swelled with
+patriotic pride, in spite of the fact that this was an act of piracy,
+for which he could be hanged to the yard-arm.
+
+"On! On!" cried Surcouf. "More captures! More prizes!"
+
+Three days later three vessels carrying rice fell into his hands,--one
+of which,--a pilot-brig--was appropriated in place of the _Emilie_,
+which had a foul, barnacled bottom and had lost her speed. The
+_Diana_, another rice-carrier--was also captured--and Robert Surcouf
+headed for the Mauritius: pleased and happy.
+
+A few days later, as the vessels pottered along off the river Hooghly,
+the cry came:
+
+"A large sail standing into Balasore Roads!"
+
+In a moment Surcouf had clapped his glass to his keen and searching
+eye.
+
+"An East Indiaman," said he. "And rich, I'll warrant. Ready about and
+make after her. She's too strong for us,--that I see--but we may
+outwit her."
+
+The vessel, in fact, was the _Triton_, with six-and-twenty guns and a
+strong crew. Surcouf had but nineteen men aboard, including the
+surgeon and himself, and a few Lascars,--natives. The odds were
+heavily against him, but his nerve was as adamant.
+
+"My own boat has been a pilot-brig. Up with the pilot flag!" he cried.
+
+As the little piece of bunting fluttered in the breeze, the _Triton_
+hove to, and waited for him, as unsuspecting as could be. Surcouf
+chuckled.
+
+Nearer and nearer came his own vessel to the lolling Indiaman, and, as
+she rolled within hailing distance, the bold French sea-dog saw
+"_beaucoup de monde_"--a great crowd of people--upon the deck of the
+Englishman.
+
+"My lads!" cried he, turning to his crew. "This _Triton_ is very
+strong. We are only nineteen. Shall we try to take her by surprise and
+thus acquire both gain and glory? Or, do you prefer to rot in a
+beastly English prison-ship?"
+
+"Death or victory!" cried the Frenchmen.
+
+Surcouf smiled.
+
+"This ship shall either be our tomb, or the cradle of our glory," said
+he. "It is well!"
+
+The crew and passengers of the _Triton_ saw only a pilot-brig
+approaching, as these did habitually (to within twenty or thirty feet)
+in order to transfer the pilot. Suddenly a few uttered exclamations of
+surprise and dismay. The French colors rose to the mast of the
+sorrowful-looking pilot-boat, and with a flash and a roar, a heavy
+dose of canister and grape ploughed into the unsuspecting persons upon
+the deck of the Indiaman. Many sought shelter from the hail of iron.
+
+A moment more, and the brig was alongside. A crunching: a splitting of
+timber as the privateer struck and ground into the bulwarks of the
+_Triton_, and, with a wild yell--Surcouf leaped upon the deck of his
+adversary--followed by his eighteen men, with cutlass, dirks and
+pistols.
+
+There was but little resistance. The Captain of the _Triton_ seized a
+sword and made a vain attempt to stem the onslaught of the boarders,
+but he was immediately cut down. The rest were driven below, and the
+hatches clapped tight above them. In five minutes the affair was over,
+with five killed and six wounded upon the side of the English: one
+killed and one wounded among the French. Surcouf had made a master
+stroke. The _Triton_ was his own.
+
+The many prisoners were placed on board the _Diana_ and allowed to
+make their way to Calcutta, but the _Triton_ was triumphantly steered
+to the Mauritius, where Surcouf received a tremendous ovation.
+
+"Hurrah for Robert Surcouf: the sea-hound from St. Malo!" shrieked the
+townsfolk.
+
+"Your captures are all condemned," said the Governor of the island, a
+few days after his triumphant arrival. "For you sailed and fought not
+under a Letter of Marque, so you are a pirate and not a privateer.
+Those who go a-pirating must pay the piper. Your prizes belong to the
+Government of France, and its representative. I hereby seize them."
+
+Surcouf was nonplussed.
+
+"We will take this matter to France, itself," cried he. "And we shall
+see whether or no all my exertions shall go for nought."
+
+So the case was referred to the French courts, where Robert appeared
+in person to plead his cause. And the verdict was:
+
+"The captures of Captain Robert Surcouf of St. Malo are all declared
+'good prize' and belong to him and the owners of his vessel."
+
+So the wild man from St. Malo was very happy, and he and his owners
+pocketed a good, round sum of money. But he really was a pirate and
+not a privateer. _Tenez!_ He had the money, at any rate, so why should
+he care?
+
+The remaining days of Robert's life were full of battle, and, just a
+little love, for he returned to his native town during the progress of
+the law-suit--in order to see his family and his friends, and there
+became engaged to Mlle. Marie Blaize, who was as good as she was
+pretty. But the sea sang a song which ran:
+
+    "For men must work and women must weep,
+    The home of a hero is on the deep."
+
+which the stout sea-dog could not resist. So he left the charming
+demoiselle without being married, and 'tis said that she wept
+bitterly.
+
+Now came his greatest exploit.
+
+On October 7th, 1800, the hardy mariner--in command of the _Confiance_;
+a new vessel with one hundred and thirty souls aboard--was cruising
+off the Indian coast. He had a Letter of Marque this time, so all
+would go well with him if he took a prize. The opportunity soon came.
+A sail was sighted early that day, and Surcouf scanned her carefully
+through his glass.
+
+[Illustration: "SURCOUF SCANNED HER CAREFULLY THROUGH HIS GLASS."]
+
+"She's a rich prize," said he. "An Indiaman. All hands on deck.
+Make sail! Drinks all round for the men! Clear for action!"
+
+He spoke this to himself, for he was aloft, and, climbing to the deck,
+ordered everybody aft to listen to a speech. When they had collected
+there, he said, with feeling:
+
+"I suppose each one of you is more than equal to one Englishman? Very
+good--be armed and ready for boarding--and, as it is going to be hot
+work, I'll give you one hour for pillage. You can fight, and, behind
+me, you should be invincible! Strike, and strike hard; and you will be
+rich."
+
+The _Kent_ had four hundred and thirty-seven souls aboard, says an old
+chronicler, for she had picked up a great part of the crew of the
+_Queen_: an East Indiaman which had been destroyed off the coast of
+Brazil. Her Captain's name was Rivington and he was a fellow of heroic
+courage.
+
+As the _Confiance_ drew near, the crew of the Englishman gave her a
+fair broadside and pumped gun after gun into her hull. But the
+Frenchman held her fire, and bore in close, in order to grapple.
+Hoarse shouts sounded above the roar of the guns and the splitting of
+timber, as the two war-dogs closed for action. The crew of the _Kent_
+were poorly armed and undisciplined: they had never fought together.
+With Surcouf it was far different. His sailors were veterans--they had
+boarded many a merchantman and privateer before--and, they were well
+used to this gallant pastime. Besides, each had a boarding-axe, a
+cutlass,--pistol and a dagger--to say nothing of a blunderbuss loaded
+with six bullets, pikes fifteen feet long, and enormous clubs--all of
+this with "drinks all round" and the promise of pillage. No wonder
+they could fight!
+
+With a wild, ear-splitting whoop the wild men of the French privateer
+finally leaped over the rail--upon the deck of the Englishman--and
+there was fierce struggling for possession of her. At the head of his
+men, Rivington fought like a true Briton,--cutlass in hand, teeth
+clinched, eyes to the front. He was magnificent.
+
+But what could one man do against many?
+
+Back, back, the French forced the valiant lion, while his crew fell
+all about in tiers, and, at length, they drove him to the poop. He was
+bleeding from many a wound. He was fast sinking.
+
+"Don't give up the ship!" he cried, casting his eye aloft at the red
+ensign of his country.
+
+Then he fell upon his face, and the maddened followers of Surcouf
+swept over the decking like followers of Attila, the terrible Hun.
+
+"Spare the women!" shouted the French Captain above the din--and roar
+of battle. "Pillage; but spare the women!"
+
+It was well that he had spoken, for his cut-throats were wild with the
+heat of battle. In twenty minutes the _Kent_ was helpless; her crew
+were prisoners; and the saucy pennon of France fluttered where once
+had waved the proud ensign of Great Britain.
+
+Surcouf was happy. Landing the English prisoners in an Arab vessel, he
+arrived at the Mauritius with his prize in November, and soon took his
+doughty _Confiance_ to the low shores of France, catching a
+Portuguese merchant en route, and anchoring at La Rochelle, on April
+13th, 1801.
+
+Rich, famous, respected; he now married the good Mlle. Marie Blaize,
+and became the owner of privateers and a respected citizen of the
+Fatherland. Fortune had favored this brave fellow.
+
+As a prosperous ship-owner and ship-builder of his native
+village--"the Sea-Hound of St. Malo"--closed his adventurous life in
+the year 1827. And when he quietly passed away, the good housewives
+used to mutter:
+
+"Look you! Here was a man who fought the English as well as they
+themselves could fight. He was a true son of William the Conqueror.
+Look you! This was a King of the Ocean!"
+
+And the gulls wheeled over the grave of the doughty sea-warrior,
+shrieking,
+
+"He-did-it! He-did-it! He-did-it!"
+
+
+
+
+THE CRY FROM THE SHORE
+
+
+    Come down, ye greyhound mariners,
+    Unto the wasting shore!
+    The morning winds are up,--the Gods
+    Bid me to dream no more.
+    Come, tell me whither I must sail,
+    What peril there may be,
+    Before I take my life in hand
+    And venture out to sea!
+
+    _We may not tell thee where to sail,_
+    _Nor what the dangers are;_
+    _Each sailor soundeth for himself,_
+    _Each hath a separate star;_
+    _Each sailor soundeth for himself,_
+    _And on the awful sea,_
+    _What we have learned is ours alone;_
+    _We may not tell it thee._
+
+    Come back, O ghostly mariners,
+    Ye who have gone before!
+    I dread the dark, tempestuous tides;
+    I dread the farthest shore.
+    Tell me the secret of the waves;
+    Say what my fate shall be,--
+    Quick! for the mighty winds are up,
+    And will not wait for me.
+
+    _Hail and farewell, O voyager!_
+    _Thyself must read the waves;_
+    _What we have learned of sun and storm_
+    _Lies with us in our graves;_
+    _What we have learned of sun and storm_
+    _Is ours alone to know._
+    _The winds are blowing out to sea,_
+    _Take up thy life and go!_
+
+
+
+
+LAFITTE
+
+PRIVATEER, PIRATE, AND TERROR OF THE GULF OF MEXICO
+
+(1780-1826)
+
+
+    "For it's fourteen men on a dead man's chest,
+    Yo, ho, ho, and a bottle of rum."
+
+                    --STEVENSON.
+
+
+LAFITTE
+
+PRIVATEER, PIRATE, AND TERROR OF THE GULF OF MEXICO
+
+(1780-1826)
+
+    "He was the mildest mannered man,
+    That ever scuttled ship or cut a throat;
+    With such true breeding of a gentleman,
+    That you could ne'er discern his proper thought.
+    Pity he loved an adventurous life's variety,
+    He was _so_ great a loss to good society."
+
+                    --_Old Ballad._--1810.
+
+
+"Captain, we can't live much longer unless we have food. We've got
+enough to last us for two weeks' time, and then--if we do not get
+fresh provisions--we'll have to eat the sails."
+
+The fellow who spoke was a rough-looking sea-dog, with a yellow
+face--parched and wrinkled by many years of exposure--a square figure;
+a red handkerchief tied about his black hair; a sash about his waist
+in which was stuck a brace of evil-barrelled pistols. He looked grimly
+at the big-boned man before him.
+
+"Yes. You are right, as usual, Gascon. We've got to strike a foreign
+sail before the week is out, and capture her. And I, Lafitte, must
+turn from privateer to pirate. May my good mother at St. Malo have
+mercy on my soul."
+
+And, so saying, he turned to pace restlessly upon the sloping deck of
+the two-hundred-ton barque which boiled along under a spread of
+bellying canvas, and was guided by the keen eye of this youthful
+mariner. He came from the same little town in France which sheltered
+the good mother of Du Guay-Trouin, the great French "blue." His name
+was Jean Lafitte.
+
+This sea-rover had been born in 1781, and had taken to the ocean at
+the age of thirteen, when most boys are going to boarding-school.
+After several voyages in Europe, and to the coast of Africa, he was
+appointed mate of a French East Indiaman, bound to Madras in India.
+But things did not go any too well with the sturdy ship; a heavy gale
+struck her off the Cape of Good Hope; she sprung her mainmast,
+and--flopping along like a huge sea-turtle--staggered into the port of
+St. Thomas in the island of Mauritius, off the east coast of Africa.
+
+"Here," said young Lafitte to his Captain, "is where I leave you, for
+you are a bully, a braggart, and a knave."
+
+And, so saying, he cut for shore in the jolly-boat, but--if the truth
+must be known--Lafitte and the Captain were too much alike to get on
+together. They both wished to "be boss." Like magnets do not attract,
+but repel.
+
+Luck was with the young deserter. Several privateers were being fitted
+out at the safe port of St. Thomas and he was appointed Captain of one
+of them. Letters of Marque were granted by the Governor of the
+Mauritius.
+
+"Ah ha!" cried the youthful adventurer. "Now I can run things to suit
+myself. And I'll grow rich."
+
+This he speedily succeeded in doing, for, in the course of his cruise,
+he robbed several vessels which came in his path, and, stopping at the
+Seychelles (Islands off the eastern coast of Africa), took on a load
+of slaves for the port of St. Thomas. Thus he had descended--not only
+to piracy--but also to slave catching; the lowest depths to which a
+seaman could come down.
+
+When four days out from the curiously named islands, a cry went up
+from the watch,
+
+"Sail ho! Off the port bow! A British frigate, by much that's good,
+and she's after us with all speed!"
+
+To which bold Lafitte answered, "Then, we must run for it!" But he
+hoisted every bit of canvas which he had about and headed for the Bay
+of Bengal. "And," said he, "if she does not catch us and we get away,
+we'll take an English merchantman and burn her." Then he laughed
+satirically.
+
+The British frigate plodded along after the lighter vessel of Lafitte's
+until the Equator was reached, and then she disappeared,--disgruntled at
+not being able to catch the saucy tartar. But the privateersman headed
+for the blue Bay of Bengal; there fell in with an English armed schooner
+with a numerous crew; and--although he only had two guns and twenty-six
+men aboard his own vessel--he tackled the sailors from the chilly isle
+like a terrier shaking a rat. There was a stiff little fight upon the
+shimmering waves of the Indian Ocean. When night descended the
+Britisher had struck and nineteen blood-stained ruffians from the
+privateer took possession of the battered hulk, singing a song which
+ran:
+
+    "For it's fourteen men on a dead man's chest,
+    Yo-Ho-Ho and a bottle of rum."
+
+Lafitte was now feeling better; his men had been fed; he had good
+plunder; and he possessed two staunch, little craft.
+
+"Let's bear away for India, my Hearties," cried he, "and we'll hit
+another Englishman and take her."
+
+What he had said soon came to pass, for, when off the hazy, low-lying
+coast of Bengal, a rakish East Indiaman came lolling by, armed with
+twenty-six twelve-pounders and manned with one hundred and fifty men.
+A bright boarding upon her stern-posts flaunted the truly Eastern
+name: the _Pagoda_.
+
+The dull-witted Britishers had no suspicions of the weak,
+Puritan-looking, little two-'undred tonner of Lafitte's, as she glided
+in close; luffed; and bobbed about, as a voice came:
+
+"Sa-a-y! Want a pilot fer the Ganges?"
+
+There was no reply for a while. Then a voice shrilled back,
+
+"Come up on th' port quarter. That's just what we've been lookin'
+for."
+
+The fat _Pagoda_ ploughed listlessly onward, as the
+unsuspicious-looking pilot plodded up on the port side; in fact, most
+of the crew were dozing comfortably under awnings on the deck, when a
+shot rang out. Another and another followed, and, with a wild,
+ear-splitting whoop, the followers of Lafitte clambered across the
+rail; dirks in their mouths; pistols in their right hands, and
+cutlasses in their left.
+
+Now was a short and bloodless fight. Taken completely by surprise, the
+Englishmen threw up their hands and gave in only too willingly. With
+smiles of satisfaction upon their faces, the seamen of the bad man
+from St. Malo soon hauled two kegs of spirits upon the decks, and held
+high revel upon the clean boarding of the rich and valuable prize. The
+_Pagoda_ was re-christened _The Pride of St. Malo_, and soon went off
+privateering upon her own hook; while Lafitte headed back for St.
+Thomas: well-fed--even sleek with good living--and loaded down with
+the treasure which he had taken. "Ah-ha!" cried the black-haired
+navigator. "I am going to be King of the Indian waters."
+
+Now came the most bloody and successful of his battles upon the broad
+highway of the gleaming, southern ocean.
+
+Taking command of the _La Confidence_ of twenty-six guns and two
+hundred and fifty men, whom he found at the port of St. Thomas, he
+again headed for the coast of British India; keen in the expectation
+of striking a valuable prize. And his expectations were well
+fulfilled.
+
+In October, 1807, the welcome cry of "Sail Ho!" sounded from the
+forward watch, when off the Sand Heads, and there upon the starboard
+bow was a spot of white, which proved to be a Queen's East Indiaman,
+with a crew of near four hundred. She carried forty guns.
+
+There were double the number of cannon, there were double the number
+of men, but Lafitte cried out:
+
+"I came out to fight and I'm going to do it, comrades! You see before
+you a vessel which is stronger than our own, but, with courage and
+nerve, we can beat her. I will run our own ship close to the enemy.
+You must lie down behind the protecting sides of our vessel until we
+touch the stranger. Then--when I give the signal to board--let each
+man seize a cutlass, a dirk, and two pistols, and strike down all that
+oppose him. We _must_ and _can_ win!"
+
+These stirring words were greeted by a wild and hilarious cheer.
+
+Now, running upon the port tack, the _La Confidence_ bore down upon
+the Britisher with the water boiling under her bows; while the
+stranger luffed, and prepared for action. Shrill cries sounded from
+her huge carcass as her guns were loaded and trained upon the
+on-coming foe, while her masts began to swarm with sharpshooters eager
+to pick off the ravenous sea-dogs from the Mauritius.
+
+Suddenly a terrific roar sounded above the rattle of ropes and creak
+of hawsers--and a broadside cut into the _La Confidence_ with keen
+accuracy.
+
+"Lie flat upon the deck," cried Lafitte, "and dodge the iron boys if
+you can see 'em."
+
+His men obeyed, and, as the missiles pounded into the broad sides of
+their ship, the steersman ran her afoul of the Queen's East Indiaman.
+When he did so, many sailors swarmed into the rigging, and from the
+yards and tops threw bombs and grenades into the forecastle of the
+enemy, so that death and terror made the Britishers abandon the
+portion of their vessel near the mizzen-mast.
+
+"Forty of the crew will now board," cried Lafitte. "And let every
+mother's son strike home!"
+
+With pistols in their hands and daggers held between their teeth, the
+wild sea-rovers rollicked across the gunwales like a swarm of rats.
+Dancing up the deck of the Britisher they beat back all who opposed
+them, driving them below into the steerage. Shots rang out like
+spitting cats; dirks gleamed; and cutlasses did awful execution. But
+the Captain of the Indiaman was rallying his men about him on the
+poop, and, with a wild cheer, these precipitated themselves upon the
+victorious privateers.
+
+"Board! Board!" cried Lafitte, at this propitious moment, and, cutlass
+in hand, he leaped from his own vessel upon the deck of the East
+Indiaman. His crew followed with a yelp of defiant hatred, and beat
+the Captain's party back again upon the poop, where they stood
+stolidly, cursing at the rough sea-riders from St. Thomas.
+
+But Lafitte was a general not to be outdone by such a show of force.
+He ordered a gun to be loaded with grape-shot; had it pointed towards
+the place where the crowd was assembled; and cried--
+
+"If you don't give in now, I'll exterminate all of you at one
+discharge of my piece."
+
+It was the last blow. Seeing that it was useless to continue the
+unequal struggle, the British Captain held up his long cutlass, to
+which was bound a white handkerchief, and the great sea battle was
+over. Lafitte and his terrible crew had captured a boat of double the
+size of his own, and with twice his numbers.
+
+Says an old chronicler of the period: "This exploit, hitherto
+unparalleled, resounded through India, and the name of Lafitte became
+the terror of English commerce in these latitudes. The British vessels
+now traversed the Indian Ocean under strong convoys, in order to beat
+off this harpy of South Africa."
+
+"Egad," said Lafitte about this time, "these fellows are too smart for
+me. I'll have to look for other pickings. I'm off for France."
+
+So he doubled the Cape of Good Hope, coasted up the Gulf of Guinea,
+and, in the Bight of Benin, took two valuable prizes loaded down with
+gold dust, ivory, and palm oil. With these he ran to St. Malo, where
+the people said:
+
+"Tenez! Here is a brave fellow, but would you care to have his
+reputation, Monsieur?" And they shook their heads, shrugged their
+shoulders, and looked the other way when they saw him coming.
+
+The privateersman, slaver, and pirate was not going to be long with
+them, however, for he soon fitted out a brigantine, mounted twenty
+guns on her, and with one hundred and fifty men, sailed for
+Guadaloupe, among the West Indies. He took several valuable prizes,
+but, during his absence upon a cruise, the island was captured by the
+British, so he started for a more congenial clime. He roved about for
+some months, to settle at last at Barrataria, near New Orleans,
+Louisiana. He was rich; he had amassed great quantities of booty; and
+he was a man of property. Lafitte, in fact, was a potentate.
+
+"Now," said the privateer and pirate, "I will settle down and found a
+colony."
+
+But can a man of action keep still?
+
+It is true that Lafitte was not as bold and audacious as before, for
+he was now obliged to have dealings with merchants of the United
+States and the West Indies who frequently owed him large sums of
+money, and the cautious transactions necessary to found and to conduct
+a colony of pirates and smugglers in the very teeth of civilization,
+made the black-haired Frenchman cloak his real character under a
+veneer of supposed gentility. Hundreds of privateers, pirates, and
+smugglers gathered around the banner of this robber of the high seas.
+
+But what is Barrataria?
+
+Part of the coast of Louisiana is called by that name: that part lying
+between Bastien Bay on the east, and the mouth of the wide river, or
+bayou of La Fourche, on the west. Not far from the rolling, sun-baked
+Atlantic are the lakes of Barrataria, connecting with one another by
+several large bayous and a great number of branches. In one of these
+is the Island of Barrataria, while this sweet-sounding name is also
+given to a large basin which extends the entire length of the cypress
+swamps, from the Gulf of Mexico, to a point three miles above New
+Orleans. The waters from this lake slowly empty into the Gulf by two
+passages through the Bayou Barrataria, between which lies an island
+called Grand Terre: six miles in length, and three in breadth, running
+parallel with the coast. To the West of this is the great pass of
+Barrataria, where is about nine to ten feet of water: enough to float
+the ordinary pirate or privateersman's vessel. Within this pass--about
+two miles from the open sea--lies the only safe harbor upon the coast,
+and this is where the cut-throats, pirates, and smugglers gathered
+under Lafitte. They called themselves _Barratarians_, and they were a
+godless crew.
+
+At a place called Grand Terre, the privateers would often make public
+sale of their cargoes and prizes by auction. And the most respectable
+inhabitants of the State were accustomed to journey there in order to
+purchase the goods which the _Barratarians_ had to offer. They would
+smile, and say,
+
+"We are going to get some of the treasure of Captain Kidd."
+
+But the Government of the United States did not take so kindly to the
+idea of a privateer and pirate colony within its borders. And--with
+malice aforethought--one Commodore Patterson was sent to disperse
+these marauders at Barrataria, who, confident of their strength and
+fighting ability, defiantly flaunted their flag in the faces of the
+officers of the Government. "We can lick the whole earth," chuckled
+the piratical followers of Lafitte.
+
+Patterson was a good fighter. On June the eleventh he departed from
+New Orleans with seventy members of the 44th regiment of infantry. On
+the sixteenth he made for the Island of Barrataria, with some six
+gun-boats, a launch mounting one twelve pound carronade; the _Sea
+Horse_ (a tender carrying one six-pounder) and the schooner
+_Carolina_.
+
+"We must fight, Boys," cried Lafitte to his ill-assorted mates. "Come,
+take to our schooners and show these officers that the followers of
+Lafitte can battle like Trojans."
+
+A cheer greeted these noble sentiments.
+
+"Lead on!" yelled his cut-throats. "Lead on and we'll sink these cocky
+soldiers as we've done to many an East Indiaman!"
+
+So, about two o'clock in the afternoon, the privateers and pirates
+formed their vessels, ten in number (including their prizes) near the
+entrance of the harbor.
+
+_Crash!_
+
+A shell from the forward gun of the leading gun-boat spun across the
+bows of Lafitte's flagship and buried itself in the gray water with a
+dull sob.
+
+Up went a huge white flag upon the foremost mast-head of the king
+pirate and these words could be plainly seen:
+
+"Pardon for all Deserters."
+
+"Ah, ha," chuckled Patterson. "The arch ruffian has heard that some of
+my men are ashore and this is the way he would hire them."
+
+_Crash!_
+
+Another shell ricochetted across the still surface of the harbor and
+sunk itself in the side of a piratical brig.
+
+"Hello!" cried a Lieutenant, running up to the United States
+Commander. "They're giving up already. See! The beggars are hastening
+ashore in order to skip into the woods."
+
+"I'm afraid so," answered the disappointed Commodore. "All my pains
+for nothing. The fellows are getting away."
+
+Sure enough--afraid to remain and fight it out--the craven followers
+of Lafitte now turned their schooners to the shore--ran their bows
+into the sand, and, leaping overboard, made into the forest as fast as
+their legs could carry them. Thus--without firing a shot--the cowardly
+pirates of Barrataria "took to the bush."
+
+"The enemy had mounted on their vessels, twenty pieces of cannon of
+different calibre," wrote Patterson, after this tame affair. "And, as
+I have since learnt, they had from eight hundred to one thousand men
+of all nations and colors. When I perceived the pirates forming their
+vessels into a line of battle I felt confident, from their fleet and
+very advantageous position, and their number of men, that they would
+have fought me. Their not doing so I regret; for had they, I should
+have been enabled more effectually to destroy or make prisoners of
+them and their leaders; but it is a subject of great satisfaction to
+me, to have effected the object of my enterprise, without the loss of
+a man. On the afternoon of the 23rd, I got under way with my whole
+squadron, in all seventeen vessels, but during the night one escaped
+and the next day I arrived at New Orleans with my entire command."
+
+Thus ended the magnificent (?) attempt of the vainglorious Lafitte to
+stem the advance of the Government of the United States. In the
+parlance of the camp, "He was a fust-class quitter."
+
+But he did not show himself to be a "quitter" in the battle of New
+Orleans.
+
+The English and Americans, in fact, were soon at each other's throats
+in the ungentle game of war. At different times the British had sought
+to attack the pirates of Barrataria, in the hope of taking their
+prizes and armed vessels. On June 23rd, 1813, while two of Lafitte's
+privateers were lying to off of Cat Island, an English sloop-of-war
+came to anchor at the entrance of the pass, and sent out two boats in
+the endeavor to capture the rakish sea-robbers. But they were repulsed
+with severe and galling loss.
+
+On the 2nd of September, 1814, an armed brig appeared on the coast,
+opposite the famous pass to the home of the rangers of the sea. She
+fired a gun at a smuggler, about to enter, and forced her to poke her
+nose into a sand-bar; she then jibed over and came to anchor at the
+entrance to the shallows.
+
+"That vessel means business, sure," said one of the pirates to
+Lafitte. "She has spouted one gun, but now she's lyin' to. Better see
+what's up."
+
+"You're right," answered the famous sea-rover. "We'll go off in a boat
+and look out for what's going to happen."
+
+So, starting from the shore, he was soon on his way to the brig, from
+which a pinnace was lowered, in which could be seen two officers, one
+of whom had a flag of truce. The two boats rapidly neared each other.
+
+"Where is Mr. Lafitte?" cried one of the Britishers, as the pinnace
+neared the shore. "I would speak with the Laird of Barrataria."
+
+But Lafitte was not anxious to make himself known.
+
+"He's ashore," said he. "But, if you have communications for him,
+these I can deliver."
+
+"Pray, give him these packages, my good man," spoke the English tar,
+handing him a bundle of letters, tied up in tarpaulin.
+
+Lafitte smiled.
+
+"I would be delighted to do so," he replied. "But, pray come ashore
+and there I will return you your answer after I have seen the great
+Captain, who is camping about a league inland."
+
+The Britishers readily assented, and both rowed towards the sandy
+beach, where a great number of pirates of Barrataria had collected.
+
+As soon as the boats were in shallow water, Lafitte made himself known
+to the English, saying:
+
+"Do not let my men know upon what business you come, for it will go
+ill with you. My followers know that war is now on between Great
+Britain and the United States, and, if they hear you are making
+overtures with me, they will wish to hang you."
+
+It was as he had said. When the Englishmen landed, a great cry went up
+amongst the privateers, pirates and smugglers:
+
+"Hang the spies! Kill the dirty dogs! To the yard-arm with the
+rascally Englishmen! Send the hounds to New Orleans and to jail!"
+
+But Lafitte dissuaded the multitude from their intent and led the
+officers in safety to his dwelling, where he opened the package,
+finding a proclamation addressed to the inhabitants of Louisiana, by
+Col. Edward Nichalls--British commander of the land forces in this
+state--requesting them to come under the sheltering arm of the British
+Government. There were also two letters to himself, asking him to join
+and fight with the English.
+
+"If you will but battle with us," said Captain Lockyer--one of the
+British officers--"we will give you command of a forty-four gun
+frigate, and will make you a Post Captain. You will also receive
+thirty thousand dollars,--payable at Pensacola."
+
+Lafitte looked dubiously at him.
+
+"I will give answer in a few days," he replied, with courtesy.
+
+"You are a Frenchman," continued the British Captain. "You are not in
+the service of the United States, nor likely to be. Come--man--give us
+a reply at once."
+
+Captain Lafitte was obdurate, for--strange as it may seem--he wished
+to inform the officers of the State Government of this project of the
+English. So he withdrew to his own hut.
+
+As he did this, the pirates seized the British officers, dragged them
+to a cabin, and thrust them inside. A guard was stationed at the door,
+while cries went up from every quarter:
+
+"To New Orleans with the scoundrels! A yard-arm for the butchers! A
+rope's end for the scurvy tars!"
+
+Lafitte was furious when he learned of this, and, after haranguing the
+crowd, had the Britishers released.
+
+"If you treat men under a flag of truce as prisoners," he cried, "you
+break one of the first rules of warfare. You will get the same
+treatment if you, yourselves, are captured, and you will lose the
+opportunity of discovering what are the projects of the British upon
+Louisiana."
+
+His men saw the good sense of these words of advice, and acted
+accordingly.
+
+Early the next morning the officers were escorted to their pinnace
+with many apologies from Lafitte, who now wrote a letter to Captain
+Lockyer, which shows him to have been a man of considerable
+cultivation, and not a mere "rough and tumble" pirate--without
+education or refinement. He said:
+
+                               "BARRATARIA, 4th Sept., 1814.
+
+    "TO CAPTAIN LOCKYER,
+
+    "SIR:--The confusion which prevailed in our camp
+    yesterday and this morning, and of which you have a
+    complete knowledge, has prevented me from answering in a
+    precise manner to the object of your mission; nor even
+    at this moment can I give you all the satisfaction that
+    you desire. However, if you could grant me a fortnight,
+    I would be entirely at your disposal at the end of that
+    time.
+
+    "This delay is indispensable to enable me to put my
+    affairs in order. You may communicate with me by sending
+    a boat to the Eastern point of the pass, where I will be
+    found. You have inspired me with more confidence than
+    the Admiral--your superior officer--could have done,
+    himself. With you alone I wish to deal, and from you,
+    also, I will claim in due time, the reward of the
+    services which I may render you.
+
+        "Your very respectful servant,
+
+            "J. LAFITTE."
+
+His object in writing this letter--you see--was, by appearing to
+accede to the proposals, to give time to communicate the affair to the
+officers of the State Government of Louisiana and to receive from them
+instructions how to act, under circumstances so critical and important
+to his own country: that is, the country of his adoption.
+
+He, therefore, addressed the following epistle to the Governor of
+Louisiana. Do you think that you, yourself, could write as well as did
+this pirate?
+
+                               "BARRATARIA, Sept. 4th, 1814.
+
+    "TO GOVERNOR CLAIBORNE:
+
+    "SIR:--In the firm persuasion that the choice made of
+    you to fill the office of first magistrate of this
+    State, was dictated by the esteem of your fellow
+    citizens, and was conferred on merit, I confidently
+    address you on an affair on which may depend the safety
+    of this country.
+
+    "I offer to you to restore to this State several
+    citizens, who perhaps, in your eyes, have lost that
+    sacred title. I offer you them, however, such as you
+    could wish to find them, ready to exert their utmost
+    efforts in the defence of the country.
+
+    "This point of Louisiana, which I occupy, is of great
+    importance in the present crisis. I tender my services
+    to defend it; and the only reward I ask is that a stop
+    be put to the proscription against me and my adherents,
+    by an act of oblivion, for all that has been done
+    heretofore.
+
+    "I am the stray sheep wishing to return to the fold.
+
+    "If you are thoroughly acquainted with the nature of my
+    offences, I should appear to you much less guilty, and
+    still worthy to discharge the duties of a good citizen.
+    I have never sailed under any flag but the republic of
+    Carthagena, and my vessels were perfectly regular in
+    that respect.
+
+    "If I could have brought my lawful prizes into the ports
+    of this State, I should not have employed illicit means
+    that have caused me to be proscribed (hounded by the
+    State authorities).
+
+    "I decline to say more upon this subject until I have
+    your Excellency's answer, which I am persuaded can be
+    dictated only by wisdom. Should your answer not be
+    favorable to my ardent desire, I declare to you that I
+    will instantly leave the country, to avoid the
+    imputation of having coöperated towards an invasion on
+    this point, which cannot fail to take place, and to rest
+    secure in the acquittal of my conscience.
+
+        "I have the honor to be,
+
+          "Your Excellency's Most Humble Servant,
+
+            "J. LAFITTE."
+
+Now how is that for a swashbuckling privateer? Anyone would be proud
+of such a letter and it does honor to the judgment of this sand-spit
+king, giving clear evidence of a strange but sincere attachment to the
+American cause. Hurrah for the Frenchman!
+
+This missive, in fact, made such an impression upon the Governor that
+he had an interview with Lafitte, who was ushered into his presence
+only to find General Andrew Jackson (Old Hickory) closeted with the
+chief executive.
+
+"My dear sir," said the effusive Governor. "Your praiseworthy wishes
+shall be laid before the council of the State, and I will confer with
+my august friend, here present, upon this important affair, and send
+you an answer."
+
+Bowing low, the courteous privateersman withdrew.
+
+"Farewell," cried Old Hickory after his retreating form. "When we meet
+again I trust that it will be in the ranks of the American Army."
+
+And in two days' time appeared the following proclamation:
+
+"The Governor of Louisiana, informed that many individuals implicated
+in the offences hitherto committed against the United States at
+Barrataria, express a willingness at the present crisis to enroll
+themselves and march against the enemy.
+
+"He does hereby invite them to join the standard of the United States,
+and is authorized to say, should their conduct in the field meet the
+approbation of the Major General, that that officer will unite with
+the Governor in a request to the President of the United States, to
+extend to each and every individual, so marching and acting, a free
+and full pardon."
+
+When Lafitte saw these words, he fairly yelled with delight, and it is
+said that he jumped into the air, cracking his heels three times
+together before he struck the ground.
+
+The orders were circulated among his followers and most of them
+readily embraced the pardon which they held out. Thus--in a few
+days--many brave men and skillful artillerists flocked to the
+red-white-and-blue standard of the United States. And when--a few
+months afterwards--Old Hickory and his men were crouched behind a line
+of cotton bales, awaiting the attack of a British army (heroes, in
+fact, of Sargossa), there, upon the left flank, was the sand-spit King
+and his evil crew. Lafitte's eyes were sparkling like an electric
+bulb, and the language of his followers does not bear repetition.
+
+It was the morning of January eighth. The British were about to attack
+the American Army defending New Orleans, which--under the leadership
+of stout Andrew Jackson--now crouched behind the earthworks and cotton
+bales, some miles from the city. Rockets shot into the air with a
+sizzling snap. The roar of cannon shook the thin palmettos, and wild
+British cheers came from the lusty throats of the British veterans of
+Spain, as they advanced to the assault in close order--sixty men in
+front--with fascines and ladders for scaling the defences. Now a
+veritable storm of rockets hissed and sizzed into the American lines,
+while a light battery of artillery pom-pomed and growled upon the
+left flank. All was silence in the dun-colored embankments.
+
+But look! Suddenly a sheet of flame burst from the earthworks where
+lay the buck-skin-clad rangers from Tennessee and Kentucky: men who
+had fought Indians; had cleared the forest for their rude log huts,
+and were able to hit the eye of a squirrel at one hundred yards.
+_Crash! Crash! Crash!_ A flame of fire burst through the pall of
+sulphurous smoke, a storm of leaden missiles swept into the red coats
+of the advancing British, and down they fell in windrows, like wheat
+before the reaper. _Boom! Boom! Boom!_ The cannon growled and spat
+from the cotton bales, and one of these--a twenty-four pounder--placed
+upon the third embrasure from the river, from the fatal skill and
+activity with which it was managed (even in the best of battle),--drew
+the admiration of both Americans and British. It became one of the
+points most dreaded by the advancing foe. _Boom! Boom!_ It grumbled
+and roared its thunder, while Lafitte and his corsairs of Barrataria
+rammed home the iron charges, and--stripped to the waist--fought like
+wolves at bay.
+
+Two other batteries were manned by the Barratarians, who served their
+pieces with the steadiness and precision of veteran gunners. The enemy
+crept closer, ever closer, and a column pushed forward between the
+levee and the river so precipitously that the outposts were forced to
+retire, closely pressed by the coats of red. On, on, they came, and,
+clearing the ditch before the earthworks, gained the redoubt through
+the embrasures, leaped over the parapet and quickly bayonetted the
+small force of backwoodsmen who held this point.
+
+"To the rescue, men," cried Lafitte, at this juncture. "Out and at
+'em!"
+
+Cutlass in hand, the privateer called a few of his best followers to
+his side; men who had often boarded the decks of an East Indiaman and
+were well used to hand-to-hand engagements. With a wild cheer they
+leaped over the breastworks and rushed upon the enemy.
+
+The British were absolutely astonished at the intrepidity of this
+advance. Pistols spat, cutlasses swung, and one after another, the
+English officers fell before the snapping blade of the King of
+Barrataria, as they bravely cheered on their men. The practiced
+boarders struck the red-coated columns with the same fierceness with
+which they had often bounded upon the deck of an enemy, and cheer
+after cheer welled above the rattle of arms as the advancing guardsmen
+were beaten back. All the energies of the British were concentrated
+upon scaling the breastworks, which one daring officer had already
+mounted. But Lafitte and his followers, seconding a gallant band of
+volunteer riflemen, formed a phalanx which it was impossible to
+penetrate. They fought desperately.
+
+It was now late in the day. The field was strewn with the dead and
+dying. Still spat the unerring rifles of the pioneers and still
+crashed the unswerving volleys from their practiced rifles. "We cannot
+take the works," cried the British. "We must give up." And--turning
+about--they beat a sad and solemn retreat to their vessels. The great
+battle of New Orleans was over, and Lafitte had done a Trojan's share.
+
+In a few days peace was declared between the United States and Great
+Britain, and General Jackson--in his correspondence with the Secretary
+of War--did not fail to speak in the most flattering terms of the
+conduct of the "Corsairs of Barrataria." They had fought like tigers,
+and they had been sadly misjudged by the English, who wished to enlist
+them in their own cause. Their zeal, their courage, and their skill,
+were noticed by the whole American Army, who could no longer
+stigmatize such desperate fighters as "criminals." Many had been
+sabred and wounded in defence of New Orleans, and many had given up
+their lives before the sluggish bayous of the Mississippi. And now,
+Mr. Lafitte, it is high time that you led a decent life, for are you
+not a hero?
+
+But "murder will out," and once a privateer always a privateer, and
+sometimes a pirate.
+
+Securing some fast sailing vessels, the King of Barrataria sailed to
+Galveston Bay, in 1819, where he received a commission from General
+Long as a "privateer." Not content with living an honest and peaceful
+life, he proceeded to do a little smuggling and illicit trading upon
+his own account, so it was not long before a United States cruiser was
+at anchor off the port to watch his movements. He was now Governor of
+Galveston, and considered himself to be a personage of great moment.
+Five vessels were generally cruising under his orders, while three
+hundred men obeyed his word. Texas was then a Republic.
+
+    "Sir"--wrote Lafitte to the Commander of the American
+    cruiser off the port of Galveston--"I am convinced that
+    you are a cruiser of the navy, ordered here by your
+    Government. I have, therefore, deemed it proper to
+    inquire into the cause of your lying before this port
+    without communicating your intention. I wish to inform
+    you that the port of Galveston belongs to and is in the
+    possession of the Republic of Texas, and was made a port
+    of entry the 9th day of October, last. And, whereas the
+    Supreme Congress of the said Republic have thought
+    proper to appoint me as Governor of this place, in
+    consequence of which, if you have any demands on said
+    Government, you will please to send an officer with such
+    demands, who will be treated with the greatest
+    politeness. But, if you are ordered, or should attempt,
+    to enter this port in a hostile manner, my oath and duty
+    to the Government compel me to rebut your intentions at
+    the expense of my life.
+
+        "Yours very respectfully,
+
+            "J. LAFITTE."
+
+But to this the American officer paid no attention. Instead, he
+attacked a band of Lafitte's followers, who had stationed themselves
+on an island near Barrataria with several cannon, swearing that they
+would perish rather than surrender to any man. As they had committed
+piracy, they were open to assault. Twenty were taken, tried at New
+Orleans, and hung,--the rest escaped into the cypress swamps, where
+it was impossible to arrest them.
+
+When Lafitte heard of this, he said with much feeling:
+
+"A war of extermination is to be waged against me. I, who have fought
+and bled for the United States. I who helped them to win the battle of
+New Orleans. My cruisers are to be swept from the sea. I must turn
+from Governor of Galveston, and privateer to pirate. Then--away--and
+let them catch me if they can."
+
+Now comes the last phase of his career. Too bad that he could not have
+died honestly!
+
+Procuring a large and fast-sailing brigantine, mounting sixteen guns,
+and having selected a crew of one hundred and sixty men, the desperate
+and dangerous Governor of Galveston set sail upon the sparkling waters
+of the Gulf, determined to rob all nations and neither to give quarter
+nor to receive it.
+
+But luck was against him. A British sloop-of-war was cruising in the
+Mexican Gulf, and, hearing that Lafitte, himself, was at sea, kept a
+sharp lookout at the mast-head for the sails of the pirate.
+
+One morning as an officer was sweeping the horizon with his glass he
+discovered a long, dark-looking vessel, low in the water: her sails as
+white as snow.
+
+"Sail off the port bow," cried he. "It's the Pirate, or else I'm a
+landlubber."
+
+As the sloop-of-war could out-sail the corsair, before the wind, she
+set her studding-sails and crowded every inch of canvas in chase.
+Lafitte soon ascertained the character of his pursuer, and, ordering
+the awnings to be furled, set his big square-sail and shot rapidly
+through the water. But the breeze freshened and the sloop-of-war
+rapidly overhauled the scudding brigantine. In an hour's time she was
+within hailing distance and Lafitte was in a fight for his very life.
+
+_Crash!_
+
+A cannon belched from the stern of the pirate and a ball came
+dangerously near the bowsprit of the Englishman.
+
+_Crash! Crash!_
+
+Other guns roared out their challenge and the iron fairly hailed upon
+the decks of the sloop-of-war; killing and wounding many of the crew.
+But--silently and surely--she kept on until within twenty yards of the
+racing outlaw.
+
+Now was a deafening roar. A broadside howled above the dancing
+spray--it rumbled from the port-holes of the Englishman--cutting the
+foremast of the pirate in two; severing the jaws of the main-gaff; and
+sending great clods of rigging to the deck. Ten followers of Lafitte
+fell prostrate, but the great Frenchman was uninjured.
+
+A crash, a rattle, a rush, and the Englishman ran afoul of the
+foe--while--with a wild cheer, her sailors clambered across the
+starboard rails; cutlasses in the right hand, pistols in the left,
+dirks between their teeth.
+
+"Never give in, men!" cried the King of Barrataria. "You are now with
+Lafitte, who, as you have learned, does not know how to surrender."
+
+But the Britishers were in far superior numbers. Backwards--ever
+backwards--they drove the desperate crew of the pirate ship. Two
+pistol balls struck Lafitte in the side which knocked him to the
+planking; a grape-shot broke the bone of his right leg; he was
+desperate, dying, and fighting like a tiger. He groaned in the agony
+of despair.
+
+The deck was slippery with blood as the Captain of the boarders rushed
+upon the prostrate corsair to put him forever out of his way. While he
+aimed a blow a musket struck him in the temple, stretching him beside
+the bleeding Lafitte, who, raising himself upon one elbow, thrust a
+dagger at the throat of his assailant.
+
+But the tide of his existence was ebbing like a torrent; his brain was
+giddy; his aim faltered; the point of the weapon descended upon the
+right thigh of the bleeding Englishman. Again the reeking steel was
+upheld; again the weakened French sea-dog plunged a stroke at this
+half-fainting assailant.
+
+The dizziness of death spread over the sight of the Monarch of the
+Gulf of Mexico. Down came the dagger into the left thigh of the
+Captain; listlessly; helplessly; aimlessly; and Lafitte--the robber of
+St. Malo--fell lifeless upon the rocking deck. His spirit went out
+amidst the hoarse and hollow cheers of the victorious Jack-tars of the
+clinging sloop-of-war.
+
+
+    "The palmetto leaves are whispering, while the gentle trade-winds blow,
+    And the soothing, Southern zephyrs, are sighing soft and low,
+    As a silvery moonlight glistens, and the droning fire-flies glow,
+    Comes a voice from out the Cypress,
+    'Lights out! Lafitte! Heave ho!'"
+
+
+
+
+THE PIRATE'S LAMENT
+
+
+    I've been ploughin' down in Devonshire,
+    My folks would have me stay,
+    Where the wheat grows on th' dune side,
+    Where th' scamperin' rabbits play.
+    But th' smells come from th' ocean,
+    An' th' twitterin' swallows wheel,
+    As th' little sails bob landwards,
+    To th' scurryin' sea-gulls' squeal.
+
+    _Oh, it's gold, gold, gold,_
+    _That's temptin' me from here._
+    _An' it's rum, rum, rum,_
+    _That makes me know no fear._
+    _When th' man-o-war is growlin',_
+    _As her for'ard swivels roar,_
+    _As th' decks are black with wounded,_
+    _An' are runnin' red with gore._
+
+    I've been goin' to church o' Sundays,
+    An' th' Parson sure can talk,
+    He's been pleadin' for my soul, Sir,
+    In Paradise to walk.
+    An' I kind o' have th' shivers,
+    Come creepin' down my spine,
+    When th' choir breaks into music,
+    While th' organ beats th' time.
+
+    _But it's gold, gold, gold,_
+    _That glitters in my eye,_
+    _An' it's rum, rum, rum,_
+    _That makes me cheat an' lie,_
+    _When th' slaver's in th' doldrums,_
+    _Th' fleet is closin' round,_
+    _An' th' Captain calls out, furious,_
+    _"Now, run th' hound aground!"_
+
+    No matter how I farm, Sir,
+    No matter how I hoe,
+    Th' breezes from th' blue, Sir,
+    Just kind uv make me glow.
+    When th' clipper ships are racin',
+    An' their bellyin' sails go past,
+    I just leave my team an' swear, Sir,
+    I'll ship before th' mast.
+
+    _For it's gold, gold, gold,_
+    _That makes me shiver, like,_
+    _An' it's rum, rum, rum,_
+    _That makes me cut an' strike,_
+    _When th' boarders creep across th' rail,_
+    _Their soljers all in line,_
+    _An' their pistols spittin' lead, Sir,_
+    _Like er bloomin' steam engine._
+
+    So I'll kiss my plough good-bye, Sir,
+    I'll throw my scythe away,
+    An' I'm goin' to th' dock, Sir,
+    Where th' ships are side th' quay.
+    Shake out th' skull an' cross-bones,
+    Take out th' signs of Marque,
+    An' let's cut loose an' forage,
+    In a rakish ten-gun barque.
+
+
+
+
+THE MEN BEHIND THE GUNS
+
+
+    A cheer and salute for the Admiral, and here's to the Captain bold,
+    And never forget the Commodore's debt, when the deeds of might are
+        told!
+    They stand to the deck through the battle's wreck, when the great
+        shells roar and screech--
+    And never they fear; when the foe is near, to practice what they
+        preach:
+    But, off with your hat, and three times three, for the war-ship's
+        true-blue sons,
+    The men who batter the foe--my Boys--the men behind the guns.
+
+    Oh, light and merry of heart are they, when they swing into port,
+        once more,
+    When, with more than enough of the "green-backed stuff," they start
+        for their leave-o'-shore;
+    And you'd think, perhaps, that these blue-bloused chaps who loll
+        along the street,
+    Are a tender bit, with salt on it, for some fierce chap to eat--
+    Some warrior bold, with straps of gold, who dazzles and fairly stuns
+    The modest worth of the sailor boys,--the lads who serve the guns.
+
+    But, say not a word, till the shot is heard, that tells of the
+        peace-blood's ebb,
+    Till the long, low roar grows more and more, from the ships of the
+        "Yank" and "Reb."
+    Till over the deep the tempests sweep, of fire and bursting shell,
+    And the very air is a mad Despair, in the throes of a living Hell:
+    Then, down, deep down, in the mighty ship, unseen by the mid-day suns,
+    You'll find the chaps who are giving the raps--the men behind the guns.
+
+                    --ROONEY (_Adapted_).
+
+
+
+
+RAPHAEL SEMMES
+
+DESPOILER OF AMERICAN COMMERCE
+
+(1809-1877)
+
+
+    "Sit apart, write; let them hear or let them forbear;
+    the written word abides, until, slowly and unexpectedly,
+    and in widely sundered places, it has created its own
+    church."--RALPH WALDO EMERSON.
+
+
+RAPHAEL SEMMES
+
+DESPOILER OF AMERICAN COMMERCE
+
+(1809-1877)
+
+    "We started from Ole England fer to cripple up our foes,
+    We started from Ole England fer to strike some rapid blows,
+    So we coasted to the Azores where we ran a packet down,
+    And then to the Bermudas, where we burned the _Royal Crown_,
+    Then we scampered to Bahia, fer to sink the gay _Tycoon_,
+    And to scuttle the _Justina_, before the Harvest Moon.
+    We hit across the ocean to race by Cape Good Hope
+    And in Madagascar channel towed _Johanna_ with a rope.
+    Away off at Sumatra, we had lots an' lots uv fun,
+    When we winged the _Pulo Condor_; but say,--we had a run,
+    An' a pretty bit uv fightin', when we took the _Emma Jane_
+    Off th' heated coast uv India, near th' bendin' sugar cane.
+    Yes, we did some privateerin', as wuz privateerin', sure,
+    An' we scuttled many a schooner, it wuz risky business pure.
+    But--stranger--we'd be laughin', jest filled with persiflage,
+    If we hadn't had a seance with that bloomin' _Kearsarge_."
+
+                    --_Song of the Chief Mate of the Alabama._--1864.
+
+
+It was off the east coast of South America. The year was 1864, and a
+little schooner--the _Justina_--bobbed along, with the flag of the
+United States Government flying jauntily from her gaff.
+
+Suddenly there was a movement on deck. Men rushed hither and thither
+with some show of excitement. Glasses were brought out and
+raised,--smothered cries of excitement were mingled with orders to
+trim sails. All eyes looked with suspicion and dismay at a long,
+graceful vessel which was seen approaching from the northward.
+
+"The _Alabama_!" cried one.
+
+"Yes, the cursed _Alabama_!" answered another. "We are lost!"
+
+On, on came the pursuing vessel; a cloud of black smoke rolling from
+her smoke-stack; her white sails bellying in the fresh breeze; for she
+was rigged like a barquentine, with a lean body, single smoke-stack,
+and a polished rifle-gun winking in the sun-rays upon her bow. On, on,
+she came, and then--_puff! boom!_--a single shot came dancing in front
+of the slow-moving schooner.
+
+"Pull down the colors!" shouted the Captain of the _Justina_. "We're
+done for!"
+
+Down came the ensign of the United States, and the little schooner was
+luffed so that she stood still. The _Alabama_ ranged up alongside, a
+boat soon brought a crew of boarders, and, before many moments, she
+was in the hands of Captain Raphael Semmes and his men.
+
+That evening the _Alabama_ steamed southward, the crew of the
+_Justina_ was on board, her rich cargo filled the hold, and a black
+curl of smoke and hissing flames marked where the proud, little
+merchantman had once bobbed upon the rolling water. Raphael Semmes was
+happy, for his work of destroying the commerce of the United States
+Navy had progressed far better than he had hoped.
+
+[Illustration: RAPHAEL SEMMES.]
+
+"Men!" cried he, "The cause of the Confederate States of America
+was never brighter upon the ocean than now. Give three times three for
+Jeff. Davis--his soldiers and his sailors!"
+
+A rousing cheer rose above the waves, and the proud privateer bounded
+onward upon her career of destruction and death. The _Alabama_ was in
+the zenith of her power.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The scene now shifts to the harbor of Cherbourg, upon the western
+coast of France. The _Alabama_ lay there,--safely swinging at her
+anchor-chains within the break-water. She had come in to refit, for
+her bottom was much befouled by a long cruise, which had been
+successful. Built at Birkenhead, England, for the Confederate States
+Government, she set sail in August, 1862; and had been down the coast
+of North and South America; around the Cape of Good Hope to India, and
+back to the shores of France. Sixty-six vessels had fallen into her
+clutches, and of these fifty-two had been burned; ten had been
+released on bond; one had been sold, and one set free. Truly she had
+had a marvellous trip.
+
+As she slumbered on--like a huge sea-turtle--a black cloud of smoke
+appeared above the break-water, and a low-bodied United States cruiser
+slowly steamed into the harbor. She nosed about, as if looking for
+safe anchorage, and kept upon the opposite side of the little bay.
+
+Immediately all hands clambered to the side of the Confederate
+cruiser, and glasses were levelled at this vessel which carried the
+flag of opposition.
+
+"She's stronger than we are," said one of the crew.
+
+Another grinned.
+
+"Look at her eleven-pounders," said he. "I see her name, now. She's
+the _Kearsarge_, and about our tonnage, but I reckon that she carries
+more men."
+
+Captain Semmes, himself, had come up from below, and was examining the
+intruder with his glass.
+
+"Boys!" said he, "we've got to fight that ship."
+
+And, as he withdrew into the cabin, all seemed to be well pleased with
+this announcement.
+
+The _Kearsarge_, commanded by Captain John A. Winslow, had been lying
+at anchor in the Scheldt, off Flushing, Holland, when a gun roared
+from the forward part of the ship, warning those officers who had gone
+ashore, to come on board. Steam was raised, and, as soon as all were
+collected on deck, the Captain read a telegram from Mr. Dayton, the
+Minister to France from the United States. It said:
+
+"The _Alabama_ has arrived at Cherbourg. Come at once or she will
+escape you!"
+
+"I believe that we'll have an opportunity to fight her," said Captain
+Winslow. "So be prepared."
+
+At this, all of his sailors cheered wildly.
+
+The _Kearsarge_ was a staunch craft; she was two hundred and
+thirty-two feet over all, with thirty-three feet of beam, and carried
+seven guns; two eleven inch pivots, smooth bore; one thirty-pound
+rifle, and four light thirty-two pounders. Her crew numbered one
+hundred and sixty-three men. The sleeping _Alabama_ had but one
+hundred and forty-nine souls on board, and eight guns: one sixty-eight
+pounder pivot rifle, smooth bore; one one hundred-pounder pivot, and
+six heavy thirty-two pounders. So, you see, that the two antagonists
+were evenly matched, with the superior advantage of the numbers of men
+on the _Kearsarge_ offset by the extra guns of her opponent.
+
+Most of the officers upon the _Kearsarge_ were from the merchant
+service, and, of the crew, only eleven were of foreign birth. Most of
+the officers upon the _Alabama_ had served in the navy of the United
+States; while nearly all of her crew were either English, Irish, or
+Welsh. A few of the gunners had been trained aboard the _Excellent_: a
+British training ship in Portsmouth Harbor. Her Captain--Raphael
+Semmes--was once an officer in the navy of the United States. He had
+served in the Mexican War, but had joined the Southern cause, as he
+was a Marylander. He was an able navigator and seaman.
+
+The _Kearsarge_ cruised about the port of Cherbourg, poked her bows
+nearly into the break-water, and then withdrew. The French neutrality
+law would only allow a foreign vessel to remain in a harbor for
+twenty-four hours.
+
+"Will she come out?" was the question now upon every lip aboard the
+_Kearsarge_. "Will she come out and fight? Oh, just for one crack at
+this destroyer of our commerce!"
+
+But she did not come out, and the _Kearsarge_ beat around the English
+Channel in anxious suspense.
+
+Several days later Captain Winslow went ashore and paid a visit to
+the United States Commercial Agent.
+
+"That beastly pirate will not fight," he thought. "All she wants to do
+is to run away."
+
+Imagine how his eyes shone when he was handed the following epistle!
+
+              "C.S.S. _Alabama_, CHERBOURG, June 14th, 1864.
+
+    "To A. BONFILS, Esqr., Cherbourg;
+
+    "SIR:--I hear that you were informed by the United
+    States Consul that the _Kearsarge_ was to come to this
+    port solely for the prisoners landed by me, and that she
+    was to depart in twenty-four hours. I desire you to say
+    to the U. S. Consul that my intention is to fight the
+    _Kearsarge_ as soon as I can make the necessary
+    arrangements. I hope these will not detain me more than
+    until to-morrow evening, or after the morrow morning at
+    furthest. I beg she will not depart before I am ready to
+    go out.
+
+        "I have the honor to be, very respectfully,
+
+          "Your obedient servant,
+
+            "R. SEMMES, Captain."
+
+"Ha! Ha!" chuckled Winslow. "We're in for it, now. Hurray!" and he
+hastened back to his ship to spread the glad tidings.
+
+"My boys!" said he to his crew. "It is probable that the two ships
+will engage on parallel lines, and, if defeated, the _Alabama_ will
+seek for neutral waters. It is necessary, therefore, that we begin
+this action several miles from the break-water. The _Alabama_ must
+believe that she can win, or she would not fight us, for, if we sink
+her, she cannot be replaced by the Confederate Government. As for
+ourselves, let us never give up, and--if we sink--let us go down with
+the flag flying!"
+
+"Hear! Hear!" cried all. "We're with you, Captain. Never give up the
+ship!"
+
+"Clean decks, boys!" continued brave Winslow. "Get everything
+ship-shape for the coming affair, for we're in for as tight a little
+fight as e'er you entered upon."
+
+Preparations were immediately made for battle, but no _Alabama_
+appeared.
+
+Thursday passed; Friday came; the _Kearsarge_ waited in the channel
+with ports down; guns pivoted to starboard; the whole battery loaded;
+and shell, grape, and canister ready to use in any method of attack or
+defence,--but no _Alabama_ appeared. A French pilot-boat drifted near,
+and the black-eyed skipper cried out,
+
+"You fellers look out for ze _Alabama_. She take in much coal. Whew!
+She take much of ze captured stuff ashore. Whew! She scrub ze deck.
+Whew! She put ze sailors to ze business of sharpening ze cutlass and
+ze dirk. Whew! You look out for ze great privateer! Whew!"
+
+Captain Winslow only smiled.
+
+"Zey have ze big feast," continued the Frenchman. "Zey dr-e-e-nk ze
+wine. Zey stan' on ze chairs and zey say, 'We will seenk ze Yankee
+dog.' Ta donc! Zey call you ze dog!"
+
+And still Captain Winslow smiled. But, next day, his smile turned to
+a frown.
+
+It was Sunday, the nineteenth day of June. The weather was beautiful;
+the atmosphere was somewhat hazy; the wind was light; and there was
+little sea. At ten o'clock the _Kearsarge_ was drifting near a buoy
+about three miles eastward from the entrance of Cherbourg break-water.
+Her decks had been newly holy-stoned; the brass work had been cleaned;
+the guns polished, and the crew had on their Sunday clothes. They had
+been inspected, and dismissed--in order to attend divine service.
+
+At 1.20 a cry rang out:
+
+"She comes!"
+
+The bell was tolling for prayers.
+
+"The _Alabama_! The _Alabama_! She's moving, and heading straight for
+us!"
+
+All rushed to the deck; the drum beat to quarters. Captain Winslow
+laid aside his prayer-book, seized his trumpet, ordered the boat
+about, and headed seaward. The ship was cleared for action and the
+battery was pivoted to starboard.
+
+Yes, she was coming!
+
+From the western entrance of the safe, little French seaport steamed
+the long-bodied, low-hulled privateer: her rakish masts bending
+beneath the spread of canvas: her tall funnel belching sepia smoke. A
+French iron-clad frigate--the _Couronne_--accompanied her, flying the
+pennant of the Commander-of-the-Port. In her wake plodded a tiny
+fore-and-aft-rigged steamer-yacht: the _Deerhound_, showing the flag
+of the Royal Mersey (British) Yacht Club. The frigate--having convoyed
+the Confederate privateer to the limit of the French waters (three
+marine miles from the coast)--put down her helm and ploughed back into
+port. The steam yacht continued on, and remained near the scene of
+action.
+
+As the _Alabama_ had started upon her dash into the open, Captain
+Semmes had mounted a gun-carriage, and had cried,
+
+"Officers and Seamen of the _Alabama_:
+
+"You have at length another opportunity of meeting the enemy--the
+first that has been presented to you since you sank the _Hatteras_! In
+the meantime you have been all over the world, and it is not too much
+to say that you have destroyed, and driven for protection under
+neutral flags, one-half of the enemy's commerce, which, at the
+beginning of the war, covered every sea. This is an achievement of
+which you may well be proud, and a grateful country will not be
+unmindful of it. The name of your ship has become a household word
+wherever civilization extends! Shall that name be tarnished by defeat?
+The thing is impossible! Remember that you are in the English Channel,
+the theatre of so much of the naval glory of our race, and that the
+eyes of all Europe are, at this moment, upon you. The flag that floats
+over you is that of a young Republic, which bids defiance to her
+enemies whenever and wherever found! Show the world that you know how
+to uphold it! Go to your quarters!"
+
+A wild yell had greeted these stirring expressions.
+
+The shore was black with people, for the word had been passed around
+that the two sea-warriors were to grapple in deadly embrace. Even a
+special train had come from Paris to bring the sober townsfolk to
+Cherbourg, where they could view the contest. They were chattering
+among themselves, like a flock of magpies.
+
+"Voilà!" said a fair damsel, whose eyes were fairly shining with
+excitement. "Oh, I hope zat ze beeg gray fellow weel win."
+
+She meant the _Alabama_, for the Confederates dressed in that sober
+color.
+
+"Zis ees ze naval Waterloo!" whispered a veteran of the Crimean War.
+
+It was 10.50 o'clock. The _Kearsarge_ had been steaming out to sea,
+but now she wheeled. She was seven miles from shore and one and
+one-quarter miles from her opponent. She steered directly for her, as
+if to ram her and crush through her side. The _Alabama_ sheered off
+and presented her starboard battery. The _Kearsarge_ came on, rapidly,
+and--at 10.57 was about eighteen hundred yards from her
+enemy--then--_Crash! Roar!_ A broadside thundered from the Confederate
+privateer, while the solid shot screamed through the rigging of the
+Yankee man-of-war.
+
+On! On! came Captain Winslow's gallant craft, while a second and a
+third broadside crashed into her. The rigging tore and swayed, but she
+was little injured. She was now within nine hundred yards.
+
+"Sheer! Sheer!" cried the Union Commander.
+
+The _Kearsarge_ spun off and broke her long silence with the
+starboard battery. _Crash! Roar!_ the shells pounded around the great
+privateer, and, with a full head of steam, the corsair of the Southern
+Confederacy swept onward. _Crash! Roar!_ she answered with shell, and
+the bursting iron shivered the foremast of her doughty opponent.
+
+Captain Winslow was fearful that the enemy would make for the shore,
+so he spun over his helm to port in the endeavor to run under the
+_Alabama_'s stern and rake her. But she sheered off, kept her
+broadside to him, and pounded away like a pugilist. The ships were a
+quarter of a mile (440 yards) away from each other. They were circling
+around in a wide arc, plugging away as fast as they could load. The
+spectators cheered, for it was as good a show as they had ever
+witnessed.
+
+"Eet ees fine!" said the veteran of the Crimea. "Eet remin' me of ze
+battaile at Balaklava!"
+
+Suddenly a wild cheer rose from the deck of the United States cruiser.
+A shot had struck the spanker-gaff on the enemy and her ensign had
+come down on the run.
+
+"Hurray!" shouted the seamen. "That means we'll win, sure!"
+
+The fallen ensign re-appeared at the mizzen, while firing from the
+_Alabama_ became rapid and wild. The gunners of the _Kearsarge_ had
+been cautioned against shooting without direct aim, and had been told
+to point their heavy guns below, rather than above the water-line.
+
+Captain Winslow was busy with his orders.
+
+"Clear the enemy's deck with the light guns!" he shouted. "Sink the
+Confederate with the heavy iron!"
+
+Cheer succeeded cheer from his sailors. Caps were thrown into the air,
+or overboard. Jackets were tossed aside. Now, certain of victory, the
+men were shouting wildly, as each projectile took effect.
+
+"That's a good one!"
+
+"Down, boys, down!"
+
+"Give her another like the last!"
+
+"Now--we have her!"
+
+The vessels continued to swing around each other in wide circles,
+and--at this moment--a sixty-eight pound Blakely shell passed through
+the starboard bulwarks of the _Kearsarge_ below the main rigging,
+exploded on the quarter-deck, and wounded three of the crew of the
+after pivot-gun. The three unfortunate men were speedily taken below,
+but the act was done so quietly, that--at the termination of the
+fight--a large number of the crew were unaware that any of their
+comrades were injured.
+
+Two shots now crashed through the port-holes occupied by the
+thirty-two pounders; one exploded in the hammock-netting; the other
+shrieked through the opposite port; yet no one was hurt. Fire blazed
+from the deck; the alarm calling for fire-quarters was sounded, and
+the men who had been detailed for this emergency put it out. The rest
+stayed at the guns.
+
+[Illustration: "THE MEN WERE SHOUTING WILDLY, AS EACH PROJECTILE TOOK
+EFFECT."]
+
+The eleven-inch shells were doing terrible execution upon the
+quarter-deck of the _Alabama_. Three of them crashed into the
+eight-inch pivot-gun port; the first swept off the forward part of
+the gun's crew; the second killed one man and wounded several others;
+the third struck the breast of the gun-carriage and spun around on the
+deck until one of the men picked it up and threw it overboard. The
+ship was careening heavily to starboard, while the decks were covered
+with the dead and dying. A shell plunged into the coal bunker and a
+dense cloud of coal dust arose. Crippled and torn, the hulking
+privateer began to settle by the stern. Her guns still spat and
+growled, and her broadsides were going wild. She was fast weakening.
+
+"Any one who silences that after pivot-gun will get one hundred
+dollars!" cried Captain Semmes, as he saw the fearful accuracy of its
+fire.
+
+_Crash!_ a whole broadside from the privateer spat at this particular
+piece. It was in vain.
+
+Around and around circled the belching _Kearsarge_. Seven times she
+had swooped about the weakening gladiator of the sea, and her fire was
+more and more accurate. She was like a great eagle closing in for a
+deaththrust. Captain Semmes was in a desperate situation.
+
+"Hoist the fore-trysail and jibs!" he called out above the din of
+cannon. "Head for the French coast!"
+
+As the sailors scrambled to obey, the _Alabama_ presented her port
+battery to the _Kearsarge_. She showed gaping sides and only two guns
+were bearing.
+
+At this moment the chief engineer came up on the deck of the
+privateer.
+
+"The fires are all out and the engines will not work!" he reported to
+Captain Semmes.
+
+The doughty seaman turned to his chief executive officer, Mr. Kell.
+
+"Go below, sir," he shouted, "and see how long the ship can float!"
+
+In a few moments the sailor had returned from his inspection.
+
+"Captain!" cried he, saluting. "She will not stay on the sea for ten
+minutes."
+
+The face of the Confederate was ashen, as he answered,
+
+"Then, sir, cease firing, shorten sail, and haul down the colors. It
+will never do in this Nineteenth Century for us to go down with the
+decks covered with our gallant wounded!"
+
+As he ceased speaking, a broadside roared from the side of his sinking
+vessel. The ensign of the _Kearsarge_ had been stopped (rolled up and
+tied with a piece of twine) and, as a shell crashed through her
+rigging, a piece hit the flag-halyards--parted them--and unstopped the
+flag. It unfurled itself gallantly in the breeze, and, as its
+beautiful striping waved aloft, the sailors upon the deck gave a loud
+cheer, for this was the omen of Victory.
+
+At this moment, two of the junior officers upon the _Alabama_ swore
+that they would never surrender, and, in a spirit of mutiny, rushed to
+the two port guns and opened fire upon the Union vessel.
+
+"He is playing us a trick!" shouted Winslow. "Give him another
+broadside!"
+
+Again the shot and shell went crashing through the sides of the
+Confederate cruiser. The _Kearsarge_ was laid across her bows for
+raking, and, in a position to use grape and canister.
+
+A white flag was then shown over the stern of the _Alabama_ and her
+ensign was half-masted; Union down.
+
+"Cease firing!" shouted Captain Winslow.
+
+The great fight was over. It had lasted one hour and two minutes.
+
+_Chugety, plug, splash!_ The boats were lowered from the _Alabama_,
+and her Master's mate rowed to the _Kearsarge_, with a few of his
+wounded.
+
+"We are sinking," said he. "You must come and help us!"
+
+"Does Captain Semmes surrender his ship?" asked Winslow.
+
+"Yes!"
+
+"All right. Then I'll help you!"
+
+Fullam grinned.
+
+"May I return with this boat and crew in order to rescue the
+drowning?" he asked. "I pledge you my word of honor that I will then
+come on board and surrender."
+
+Captain Winslow granted his request.
+
+With less generosity, the victorious Commander could have detained the
+officers and men, supplied their places with his own sailors, and
+offered equal aid to the distressed. His generosity was abused. Fullam
+pulled to the midst of the drowning; rescued several officers; went to
+the yacht _Deerhound_, and cast his boat adrift; leaving a number of
+men struggling in the water.
+
+The _Alabama_ was settling fast.
+
+"All hands overboard!" cried Mr. Kell. "Let every man grab a
+life-preserver, or a spar."
+
+As the sailors plunged into the sea, Captain Semmes dropped his sword
+into the waves and leaped outward, with a life-preserver around his
+waist. Kell followed, while the _Alabama_ launched her bows high in
+the air, and--graceful, even in her death throes--plunged
+stern-foremost into the deep. A sucking eddy of foam, spars, and
+wreckage marked where once had floated the gallant ship.
+
+Thus sank the terror of the merchantmen--riddled through and
+through--and no cheer arose as her battered hulk went down in
+forty-five fathoms of water. Her star had set.
+
+The _Deerhound_ had kept about a mile to windward of the two
+contestants, but she now steamed towards the mass of living heads,
+which dotted the surface of the sea. Her two boats were lowered, and
+Captain Semmes was picked up and taken aboard, with forty others. She
+then edged to the leeward and steamed rapidly away.
+
+An officer quickly approached Captain Winslow.
+
+"Better fire a shot at the yacht," he said, saluting. "She's got
+Captain Semmes aboard and will run off with him."
+
+Winslow smiled.
+
+"It's impossible," said he. "She's simply coming around!"
+
+But the _Deerhound_ kept on.
+
+Another officer approached the commander of the _Kearsarge_.
+
+"That beastly yacht is carrying off our men," said he. "Better bring
+her to, Captain!"
+
+"No Englishman who carries the flag of the Royal Yacht Squadron can so
+act!" Winslow replied,--somewhat pettishly. "She's simply coming
+around."
+
+But she never "came around," and Captain Raphael Semmes was soon safe
+upon British soil. He had fought a game fight. The superior gunnery of
+the sailors of the _Kearsarge_ had been too much for him. Nine of his
+crew were dead and twenty-one wounded, while the _Kearsarge_ had no
+one killed and but three wounded; one of whom died shortly afterwards.
+
+Thus,--the lesson is:
+
+If you want to win: Learn how to shoot straight!
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Captain Raphael Semmes died quietly at Mobile, Alabama, August 30th,
+1877. His ill-fated _Alabama_ had inflicted a loss of over seven
+million dollars upon the commerce of the United States.
+
+A number of wise men met, many years afterwards, in Geneva,
+Switzerland, and decided, that, as the British Government had allowed
+this vessel to leave their shores, when warned by the American
+minister of her character and intention to go privateering, it should
+therefore pay for all the vessels which the graceful cruiser had
+destroyed. England had broken the neutrality laws.
+
+John Bull paid up.
+
+    But,
+      --Boys--
+            it
+               hurt!
+
+
+
+
+EL CAPITAN
+
+
+    "There was a Captain-General who ruled in Vera Cruz,
+    And what we used to hear of him was always evil news:
+    He was a pirate on the sea--a robber on the shore,
+    The Señor Don Alonzo Estabán San Salvador.
+
+    "There was a Yankee skipper who round about did roam;
+    His name was Stephen Folger,--Nantucket was his home:
+    And having sailed to Vera Cruz, he had been _skinned_ full sore
+    By the Señor Don Alonzo Estabán San Salvador.
+
+    "But having got away alive, though all his cash was gone,
+    He said, 'If there is vengeance, I will surely try it on!
+    And I do wish that I may be hung,--if I don't clear the score
+    With Señor Don Alonzo Estabán San Salvador.'
+
+    "He shipped a crew of seventy men--well-arméd men were they,
+    And sixty of them in the hold he darkly stowed away;
+    And, sailing back to Vera Cruz, was sighted from the shore
+    By the Señor Don Alonzo Estabán San Salvador.
+
+    "With twenty-five soldados, he came on board, so pleased,
+    And said '_Maldito_, Yankee,--again your ship is seized.
+    How many sailors have you got?' Said Folger, 'Ten--no more,'
+    To the Captain Don Alonzo Estabán San Salvador.
+
+    "'But come into my cabin and take a glass of wine,
+    I do suppose, as usual, I'll have to pay a fine:
+    I've got some old Madeira, and we'll talk the matter o'er--
+    My Captain Don Alonzo Estabán San Salvador.'
+
+    "And, as over the Madeira the Captain-General boozed,
+    It seemed to him as if his head were getting quite confused;
+    For, it happened that some morphine had travelled from 'the Store'
+    To the glass of Don Alonzo Estabán San Salvador.
+
+    "'What is it makes the vessel roll? What sounds are these I hear?
+    It seems as if the rising waves were beating on my ear!'
+    'Oh, it is the breaking of the surf--just that, and nothing more,
+    My Captain Don Alonzo Estabán San Salvador!'
+
+    "The Governor was in a sleep, which muddled up his brains;
+    The seventy men had caught his 'gang' and put them all in chains;
+    And, when he woke the following day, he could not see the shore,
+    For he was away out on the sea--the Don San Salvador.
+
+    "'Now do you see the yard-arm--and understand the thing?'
+    Said rough, old Folger, viciously--'for this is where you'll swing,
+    Or forty thousand dollars you shall pay me from your store,
+    My Captain Don Alonzo Estabán San Salvador!'
+
+    "The Captain he took up a pen--the order he did sign--
+    'O my, but Señor Yankee! You charge great guns for wine!'
+    Yet it was not until the draft was paid, they let him go ashore,
+    El Señor Don Alonzo Estabán San Salvador.
+
+           *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "The greater sharp will some day find another sharper wit;
+    It always makes the Devil laugh to see a biter bit;
+    It takes two Spaniards, any day, to comb a Yankee o'er--
+    Even two like Don Alonzo Estabán San Salvador."
+
+
+
+
+RETROSPECT
+
+
+    The curtain falls, the plays are done,
+    To roar of shell and shock of gun;
+    The scuttled shipping bobs and sways,
+    In grime and muck of shallow bays.
+    The tattered ensigns mould'ring lie,
+    As diving otters bark and cry;
+    While--in the lee of crumbling piers,
+    The rotting hulk its decking rears.
+    Gray, screaming kestrels wheel and sheer,
+    Above the wasted steering gear.
+    In moulding kelp and mackerel's sheen,
+    The blighted log-book hides unseen.
+    Red flash the beams of northern blaze.
+    Through beaded clouds of Elmo's haze;
+    While dim, unkempt, the ghostly crew
+    Float by, and chant the lesson true!
+
+    Sons of the fog-bound Northland; sons of the blinding seas,
+    If ye would cherish the trust which your fathers left,
+    Ye must strive--ye must work--without ease.
+    Strong have your good sires battled, oft have your fathers bled,
+    If ye would hold up the flag which they've never let sag,
+    Ye must plod--ye must creep where they've led.
+    The shimmering icebergs call you; the plunging screw-drums scream,
+    By shallowing shoals they haul you, to the beat of the walking
+        beam.
+    The twisting petrels chatter, as ye drift by the waiting fleet,
+    In your towering grim, gray Dreadnought,--a king who sneers at
+        defeat.
+    While the silken pennons flutter; as the frozen halyards strain;
+    Comes the growling old-world mutter, the voice of the million
+        slain:
+
+    _Keep to your manly war games; keep to your warrior's play._
+    _Though the dove of peace is dancing to the sounding truce harp's
+        lay._
+    _Arbitrate if you have to; smooth it o'er if you must,_
+    _But, be prepared for battle, to parry the war king's thrust._
+    _Don't foster the chip on the shoulder; don't hasten the slap in
+        the face._
+    _But, burnish your sword, ere you're older,--the blade of the
+        ancient race._
+    _Hark to the deeds of your fathers; cherish the stories I've told,_
+    _Then--go and do like, if you have to--and die--like a Hero of Old._
+
+
+
+
+Transcriber's Note
+
+Punctuation errors have been repaired. Hyphenation has been made
+consistent within the main text. There is some archaic and variable
+spelling, which has been preserved as printed.
+
+The following amendments have also been made:
+
+    Page 3--repeated book title deleted.
+
+    Page 77--omitted word 'to' added after row--"... jumped
+    into two small wherries in order to row to the lugger."
+
+    Page 156--pedlers amended to peddlers--"There are
+    tinkers, tailors, haymakers, peddlers, fiddlers, ..."
+
+    Page 178--Huzza amended to Huzzah--""... Huzzah for
+    Fortunatus Wright!""
+
+    Page 226--envollé amended to envolé--""Sapristi!
+    L'oiseau s'est envolé.""
+
+    Page 248--manoever amended to manoeuver--"... had simply
+    followed my manoeuver of wearing around under easy
+    helm ..."
+
+Illustrations have been moved slightly where necessary so that they
+are not in the middle of a paragraph. The frontispiece and advertising
+matter have been moved to follow the title page.
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Famous Privateersmen and Adventurers
+of the Sea, by Charles H. L. Johnston
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN ***
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+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Famous Privateersmen and Adventurers of the
+Sea, by Charles H. L. Johnston
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere 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
+
+
+Title: Famous Privateersmen and Adventurers of the Sea
+       Their rovings, cruises, escapades, and fierce battling
+              upon the ocean for patriotism and for treasure
+
+Author: Charles H. L. Johnston
+
+Release Date: October 19, 2008 [EBook #26960]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by K Nordquist, Sam W. and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was
+produced from images generously made available by The
+Internet Archive/American Libraries.)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" style="margin-top: 3em; margin-bottom: 3em;" width="60%" summary="Title page">
+<tr>
+<td class="tddb">
+<h1>Famous Privateersmen<br />
+<br />
+<small>AND ADVENTURERS OF THE SEA</small></h1>
+
+<p class="center smlpad lrgfont">Their rovings, cruises, escapades, and<br />
+fierce battling upon the ocean<br />
+for patriotism and for<br />
+treasure</p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td class="tdsb">
+<p class="center lrgfont">By</p>
+
+<h2>CHARLES H. L. JOHNSTON</h2>
+
+<p class="center">Author of &ldquo;Famous Cavalry Leaders,&rdquo; &ldquo;Famous<br />
+Indian Chiefs,&rdquo; &ldquo;Famous Scouts,&rdquo; etc.</p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td class="tdsb">
+<p class="center lrgfont" style="padding-bottom: 2em;">Illustrated</p>
+
+<p class="center" style="padding-bottom: 2em;">
+<img src="images/fpas01.png" width="100" height="99" alt="Decorative crest" />
+</p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td class="tdsbb">
+<p class="center lrgfont">BOSTON<span class="space1">&nbsp;</span>
+<img src="images/leaf1.png" width="25" height="25" alt="Decoration" />
+<span class="space1">&nbsp;</span>
+THE PAGE<br />
+COMPANY<span class="space05">&nbsp;</span>
+<img src="images/leaf1.png" width="25" height="25" alt="Decoration" />
+<span class="space05">&nbsp;</span>
+PUBLISHERS</p>
+</td>
+</tr>
+</table>
+
+
+
+<div class="border">
+<p class="center"><b>FAMOUS LEADERS SERIES</b></p>
+
+<p class="center">BY</p>
+
+<p class="center">CHARLES H. L. JOHNSTON</p>
+
+
+<p class="center">Each one volume, large 12mo, illustrated,<br />
+$1.50</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 35px;">
+<img src="images/leaf2.png" width="35" height="25" alt="Decoration" />
+</div>
+
+<table border="0" summary="Book titles">
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">FAMOUS CAVALRY LEADERS</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">FAMOUS INDIAN CHIEFS</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">FAMOUS SCOUTS</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">FAMOUS FRONTIERSMEN</td>
+  </tr>
+</table>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 35px;">
+<img src="images/leaf2.png" width="35" height="25" alt="Decoration" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="center lrgfont">THE PAGE COMPANY</p>
+
+<p class="center">53 Beacon Street, Boston, Mass.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 419px;">
+<a name="again_the_cannon" id="again_the_cannon"></a>
+<img src="images/fpas02.jpg" width="419" height="600" alt="" />
+<p class="smlfont">From &ldquo;The Army and Navy of the United States.&rdquo;</p>
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">&ldquo;AGAIN THE CANNON MADE THE SPLINTERS FLY.&rdquo;<br />
+(<i>See page <a href="#Page_273">273</a>.</i>)</p>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<p class="center padtop"><i>Copyright, 1911,</i><br />
+<span class="smcap">By L. C. Page &amp; Company</span><br />
+(INCORPORATED)</p>
+
+<p class="center padbase"><i>All rights reserved</i></p>
+
+
+<table border="0" summary="Printings">
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">First Impression, November, 1911</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">Second Impression, November, 1914</td>
+  </tr>
+</table>
+
+
+<p class="center padtop padbase">THE COLONIAL PRESS<br />
+C. H. SIMONDS CO., BOSTON, U. S. A.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p class="center">I DEDICATE THIS BOOK TO THE HAPPY MEMORY OF</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 250px;">
+<img src="images/fpas03.png" width="250" height="33"
+alt="George Alfred Henty" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="center">THE MOST STIMULATING AUTHOR OF BOOKS FOR BOYS<br />
+THAT THE PAST HALF CENTURY HAS PRODUCED,<br />
+AND A WRITER WHO HAS KEPT ALIVE THE<br />
+SPIRIT OF MANLY SPORT AND ADVENTURE<br />
+WHICH HAS MADE THE ANGLO-SAXON<br />
+PEOPLE A RACE OF WORLD CONQUERORS.<br />
+MAY THEY NEVER<br />
+RETROGRADE!</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p><i>Thanks are due the Librarian of Congress,
+and particularly to Mr. Roberts of the Department
+of Prints, for numerous courtesies extended
+to the author during the compilation of
+this volume.</i></p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_vii" id="Page_vii">[Pg&nbsp;vii]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>PREFACE</h2>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">My dear Boys</span>:&mdash;The sea stretches away from the
+land,&mdash;a vast sheet of unknown possibilities. Now
+gray, now blue, now slate colored, whipped into a thousand
+windrows by the storm, churned into a seething
+mass of frothing spume and careening bubbles, it
+pleases, lulls, then terrorizes and dismays. Perpetually
+intervening as a barrier between peoples and their
+countries, the wild, sobbing ocean rises, falls and roars
+in agony. It is a stoppage to progress and contact between
+races of men and warring nations.</p>
+
+<p>In the breasts of all souls slumbers the fire of adventure.
+To penetrate the unknown, to there find
+excitement, battle, treasure, so that one&rsquo;s future life
+can be one of ease and indolence&mdash;for this men have
+sacrificed the more stable occupations on land in order
+to push recklessly across the death-dealing billows.
+They have battled with the elements; they have suffered
+dread diseases; they have been tormented with
+thirst; with a torrid sun and with strange weather;
+they have sorrowed and they have sinned in order to
+gain fame, fortune, and renown. On the wide sweep
+of the ocean, even as on the rolling plateau of the once
+uninhabited prairie, many a harrowing tragedy has
+been enacted. These dramas have often had no chronicler,&mdash;the
+battle was fought out in the silence of the
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_viii" id="Page_viii">[Pg&nbsp;viii]</a></span>
+watery waste, and there has been no tongue to tell of
+the solitary conflict and the unseen strife.</p>
+
+<p>Of sea fighters there have been many: the pirate, the
+fillibusterer, the man-of-warsman, and the privateer.
+The first was primarily a ruffian and, secondarily, a
+brute, although now and again there were pirates who
+shone by contrast only. The fillibusterer was also engaged
+in lawless fighting on the sea and to this service
+were attracted the more daring and adventurous souls
+who swarmed about the shipping ports in search of
+employment and pelf. The man-of-warsman was the
+legitimate defender of his country&rsquo;s interests and
+fought in the open, without fear of death or imprisonment
+from his own people. The privateersman&mdash;a
+combination of all three&mdash;was the harpy of the rolling
+ocean, a vulture preying upon the merchant marine of
+the enemy to his country, attacking only those weaker
+than himself, scudding off at the advent of men-of-warsmen,
+and hovering where the guileless merchantman
+passed by. The privateersman was a gentleman
+adventurer, a protected pirate, a social highwayman of
+the waters. He throve, grew lusty, and prospered,&mdash;a
+robber legitimized by the laws of his own people.</p>
+
+<p>So these hardy men went out upon the water, sailed
+forth beneath the white spread of new-made canvas,
+and, midst the creaking of spars, the slapping of ropes,
+the scream of the hawser, the groan of the windlass,
+and the ruck and roar of wave-beaten wood, carved out
+their destinies. They fought. They bled. They conquered
+and were defeated. In the hot struggle and the
+desperate attack they played their parts even as the old
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_ix" id="Page_ix">[Pg&nbsp;ix]</a></span>
+Vikings of Norway and the sea rovers of the Mediterranean.</p>
+
+<p>Hark to the stories of those wild sea robbers!
+Listen to the tales of the adventurous pillagers of the
+rolling ocean! And&mdash;as your blood is red and you,
+yourself, are fond of adventure&mdash;ponder upon these
+histories with satisfaction, for these stalwart seamen</p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;Fought and sailed and took a prize<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Even as it was their right,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Drank a glass and kissed a maid<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Between the volleys of a fight.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><em>Don&rsquo;t</em> begrudge their lives of danger,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><em>You</em> are better off by far,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But, if war again comes,&mdash;stranger,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hitch <em>your</em> wagon to their star.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class="sig smcap">Charles H. L. Johnston.</p>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_x" id="Page_x"><!-- unnumbered page --></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The bugle calls to quarters,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The roar of guns is clear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now&mdash;ram your charges home, Lads!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And cheer, Boys! Cheer!<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xi" id="Page_xi">[Pg&nbsp;xi]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>CONTENTS</h2>
+
+
+<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" width="60%" summary="Table of contents">
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdlsc">&nbsp;</td>
+    <td class="tdr"><small>PAGE</small></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdlsc">Preface</td>
+    <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_vii">vii</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdlsc">Carlo Zeno: Hero of the Venetian Republic</td>
+    <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_1">1</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdlsc">Sir Francis Drake: Rover and Sea Ranger</td>
+    <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_23">23</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdlsc">Sir Walter Raleigh: Persecutor of the Spaniards</td>
+    <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_53">53</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdlsc">Jean Bart: The Scourge of the Dutch</td>
+    <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_83">83</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdlsc">Du Guay-Trouin: The Great French &ldquo;Blue&rdquo;</td>
+    <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_113">113</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdlsc">Edward England: Terror of the South Seas</td>
+    <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_137">137</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdlsc">Woodes Rogers: The Bristol Mariner</td>
+    <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_153">153</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdlsc">Fortunatus Wright: The Most Hated Privateersman of the Mediterranean Sea</td>
+    <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_173">173</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdlsc">George Walker: Winner of the Gamest Sea Fight of the English Channel</td>
+    <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_199">199</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdlsc">John Paul Jones: The Founder of the American Navy</td>
+    <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_239">239</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdlsc">Captain Silas Talbot: Staunch Privateersman of New England</td>
+    <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_283">283</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdlsc">Captain &ldquo;Josh&rdquo; Barney: The Irrepressible Yankee</td>
+    <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_299">299</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdlsc">Robert Surcouf: The &ldquo;Sea Hound&rdquo; from St. Malo</td>
+    <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_319">319</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdlsc">Lafitte: Privateer, Pirate, and Terror of the Gulf of Mexico</td>
+    <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_341">341</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdlsc">Raphael Semmes: Despoiler of American Commerce</td>
+    <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_373">373</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdlsc">El Capitan</td>
+    <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_393">393</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdlsc">Retrospect</td>
+    <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_397">397</a></td>
+  </tr>
+</table>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xii" id="Page_xii"><!-- blank page --></a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xiii" id="Page_xiii">[Pg&nbsp;xiii]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS</h2>
+
+
+<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" width="60%" summary="List of illustrations">
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdlsc">&nbsp;</td>
+    <td class="tdr"><small>PAGE</small></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdlsc">&ldquo;Again the cannon made the splinters fly&rdquo; (<span class="roman"><i>See page <a href="#Page_273">273</a></i></span>)</td>
+    <td class="tdr"><i><a href="#again_the_cannon">Frontispiece</a></i></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdlsc">Zeno&rsquo;s Fleet</td>
+    <td class="tdr"><a href="#zenos_fleet">18</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdlsc">Sir Francis Drake</td>
+    <td class="tdr"><a href="#francis_drake">28</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdlsc">Drake&rsquo;s Greatest Victory on the Spanish Main</td>
+    <td class="tdr"><a href="#drakes_greatest_victory">44</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdlsc">Young Raleigh and a companion listening to tales of the Spanish Main</td>
+    <td class="tdr"><a href="#young_raleigh">55</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdlsc">Sir Walter Raleigh</td>
+    <td class="tdr"><a href="#walter_raleigh">60</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdlsc">Jean Bart</td>
+    <td class="tdr"><a href="#jean_bart">86</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdlsc">&ldquo;Jean Bart led his boarders over the side of the Dutch vessel&rdquo;</td>
+    <td class="tdr"><a href="#bart_led_his_boarders">108</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdlsc">Combat between Du Guay-Trouin and Van Wassenaer</td>
+    <td class="tdr"><a href="#combat">135</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdlsc">&ldquo;&lsquo;Left us engaged with barbarous and inhuman enemies&rsquo;&rdquo;</td>
+    <td class="tdr"><a href="#left_us_engaged">146</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdlsc">&ldquo;The boarders were repulsed with great slaughter&rdquo;</td>
+    <td class="tdr"><a href="#boarders_repulsed">193</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdlsc">Action between the &ldquo;Glorioso&rdquo; and the &ldquo;King George&rdquo; and &ldquo;Prince Frederick&rdquo; under George Walker</td>
+    <td class="tdr"><a href="#action_between_ships">231</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdlsc">American Privateer taking possession of a Prize</td>
+    <td class="tdr"><a href="#american_privateer">239</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdlsc">&ldquo;Began to hull the &lsquo;Drake&rsquo; below the water-line&rdquo;</td>
+    <td class="tdr"><a href="#began_to_hull">261</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdlsc">&ldquo;They swarmed into the forecastle amidst fierce cheers&rdquo;</td>
+    <td class="tdr"><a href="#swarmed_into_forecastle">277</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdlsc">&ldquo;Talbot, himself, at the head of his entire crew, came leaping across the side&rdquo;</td>
+    <td class="tdr"><a href="#talbot_himself">289</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdlsc">American Privateer capturing two English Ships</td>
+    <td class="tdr"><a href="#privateer_capturing_two">298</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdlsc">&ldquo;Surcouf scanned her carefully through his glass&rdquo;</td>
+    <td class="tdr"><a href="#surcouf_scanned_her">336</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdlsc">Raphael Semmes</td>
+    <td class="tdr"><a href="#raphael_semmes">376</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdlsc">&ldquo;The men were shouting wildly, as each projectile took effect&rdquo;</td>
+    <td class="tdr"><a href="#men_shouting_wildly">386</a></td>
+  </tr>
+</table>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xiv" id="Page_xiv"><!-- blank page --></a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<a name="Page_1" id="Page_1"><!--unnumbered title page --></a>
+<p><span class='pagenum'></span></p>
+
+<h2>CARLO ZENO<br />
+<br />
+HERO OF THE VENETIAN REPUBLIC<br />
+<br />
+(1344-1418)</h2>
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[Pg&nbsp;2]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>&ldquo;Paradise is under the shadow of swords.&rdquo;&mdash;<span class="smcap">Mahomet.</span></p>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg&nbsp;3]</a></span></p>
+
+<p class="center padtop">CARLO ZENO<br />
+HERO OF THE VENETIAN REPUBLIC<br />
+(1344-1418)</p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Zeno, noble Zeno, with your curious canine name,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You shall never lack for plaudits in the golden hall of fame,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For you fought as well with galleys as you did with burly men,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And your deeds of daring seamanship are writ by many a pen.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From sodden, gray Chioggia the singing Gondoliers,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Repeat in silvery cadence the story of your years,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The valor of your comrades and the courage of your foe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When Venice strove with Genoa, full many a year ago.<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p><span class="dropcap">T</span>HE torches fluttered from the walls of a burial
+vault in ancient Venice. Two shrouded figures
+leaned over the body of a dead warrior, and,
+as they gazed upon the wax-like features, their eyes
+were filled with tears.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;See,&rdquo; said the taller fellow. &ldquo;He has indeed led
+the stalwart life. Here are five and thirty wounds upon
+the body of our most renowned compatriot. He was
+a true hero.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You speak correctly, O Knight,&rdquo; answered the
+other. &ldquo;Carlo Zeno was the real warrior without fear
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg&nbsp;4]</a></span>
+and without reproach. He has fared badly at the hands
+of the Republic. But then,&mdash;is this not life? Those
+most worthy seem never to receive their just compensation
+during their living hours. It is only when
+they are dead that a tardy public gives them some recognition
+of the great deeds which they have done, the
+battles which they have fought, and the honor which
+they have brought to their native land. Alas! poor
+Zeno! He&mdash;the true patriot&mdash;has had but scant
+and petty praise.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>So saying the two noble Venetians covered the prostrate
+form of the dead warrior&mdash;for they had lifted
+the brown robe which enshrouded him&mdash;and, with
+slow faltering steps, they left the gloomy chamber of
+death.</p>
+
+<p>Who was this Venetian soldier, who, covered with
+the marks of battle, lay in his last sleep? Who&mdash;this
+hero of war&rsquo;s alarms? This patriotic leader of the
+rough-and-ready rovers of the sea?</p>
+
+<p>It was Carlo Zeno,&mdash;a man of the best blood of
+Venice,&mdash;who, commanding fighting men and fighting
+ships, had battled strenuously and well for his
+native country.</p>
+
+<p>The son of Pietro Zeno and Agnese Dandolo, this
+famous Venetian had been well bred to the shock of
+battle, for his father was for some time Governor of
+Padua, and had won a great struggle against the
+Turks, when the careening galleys of the Venetian
+Squadron grappled blindly with the aggressive men of
+the Ottoman Empire. There were ten children in the
+family and little Carlo was named after the Emperor
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg&nbsp;5]</a></span>
+Charles IV, who sent a retainer to the baptism of the
+future seaman, saying, &ldquo;I wish the child well. He
+has a brave and noble father and I trust that his future
+will be auspicious.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Little Carlo was destined for the Church, and, with
+a Latin eulogium in his pocket (which his Venetian
+school-master had written out for him) was sent to
+the court of the Pope at Avignon. The sweet-faced
+boy was but seven years of age. He knelt before the
+prelate and his retainers, reciting the piece of prose
+with such precision, grace, and charm, that all were
+moved by his beauty, his memory, his spirit, and his
+liveliness of person.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You are indeed a noble youth,&rdquo; cried the Pope.
+&ldquo;You shall come into my household. There you
+shall receive an education and shall be a canon of the
+cathedral of Patras, with a rich benefice.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>But little Carlo did not remain. Although dressed
+like a mimic priest and taught with great care, the
+hot blood of youth welled in his veins and made him
+long for a life more active and more dangerous. So
+he looked about for adventure so thoroughly that he
+was soon able to have his first narrow escape, and a
+part in one of those many brawls which were to
+come to him during his career of war and adventure.</p>
+
+<p>Sent by his relations to the University of Padua,
+he was returning to Venice from the country, one
+day, when a man leaped upon him as he walked down
+a narrow road.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Who are you?&rdquo; cried Carlo fearfully.</p>
+
+<p>But the fellow did not answer. Instead,&mdash;he
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg&nbsp;6]</a></span>
+struck him suddenly with a stout cudgel&mdash;knocked
+him senseless on the turf, took all the valuables which
+he had, and ran silently away into the gloom.</p>
+
+<p>Little Carlo came to his senses after many hours,
+and, staggering forward with weakened steps, reached
+Mestre, where kind friends dressed his wounds.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I shall catch this assailant,&rdquo; cried he, when he had
+revived. &ldquo;He shall rue the day that he ever touched
+the person of Carlo Zeno.&rdquo; And forthwith he secured
+a number of bloodhounds with which to track the
+cowardly ruffian of the highway.</p>
+
+<p>Luck was with the future commander of the galleons
+and fighting men. He ran the scurvy assailant to
+earth, like a fox. He captured him, bound him and
+handed him over to the justice of Padua,&mdash;where&mdash;for
+the heinousness of the offense&mdash;the man was
+executed. So ended the first conflict in which the
+renowned Carlo Zeno was engaged,&mdash;successfully&mdash;as
+did most of his later battles.</p>
+
+<p>Not long afterwards young Zeno returned to his
+studies at the University, but here&mdash;as a lover of
+excitement&mdash;he fell into bad company. Alas! he
+took to gambling, and frittered away all of his ready
+money, so that he had to sell his books in order to
+play. The profit from these was soon gone. He was
+bankrupt at the early age of seventeen.</p>
+
+<p>Ashamed to go home, the future sea rover disappeared
+from Padua and joined a fighting band of
+mercenaries (paid soldiers) who were in the employ
+of a wealthy Italian Prince. He was not heard of for
+full five years. Thus, his relatives gave him up for
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg&nbsp;7]</a></span>
+dead, and, when&mdash;one day&mdash;he suddenly stalked
+into the house of his parents, his brothers and sisters
+set up a great shout of wonder and amazement.
+&ldquo;Hurrah!&rdquo; cried they, &ldquo;the dead has returned to his
+own. This is no ghost, for he speaks our own native
+tongue. Carlo Zeno, you shall be given the best that
+we have, for we believed that you had gone to another
+world.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Pleased and overwhelmed with affection, young
+Carlo stayed for a time with his family, and then&mdash;thinking
+that, as he had been trained for the priesthood,
+he had best take charge of his canonry of Patras&mdash;he
+went to Greece.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Hah! my fine fellow,&rdquo; said the Governor, when
+he first saw him, &ldquo;I hear that you are fond of fighting.
+It is well. The Turks are very troublesome, just now,
+and they need some stout Venetian blood to hold them
+in check. You must assist us.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;ll do my best,&rdquo; cried Zeno with spirit, and, he
+had not been there a week before the Ottomans
+swooped down upon the city, bent upon its demolition.
+The young Venetian sallied forth&mdash;with numerous
+fighting men&mdash;to meet them, and, in the first clash of
+arms, received such a gaping wound that he was given
+up for dead. In fact, when carried to the city, he was
+considered to be without life, was stretched upon a
+long settee, was clothed in a white sheet, and prepared
+for interment. But in the early morning he suddenly
+opened his eyes, gazed wonderingly at the white shroud
+which covered him, and cried, with no ill humor,</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Not yet, my friends. Carlo Zeno will disappoint
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg&nbsp;8]</a></span>
+all your fondest hopes. Once more I am of the
+world.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>And, so saying, he scrambled to his feet, much to
+the dismay of the sorrowing Venetians, who had been
+carefully spreading a number of flowers upon the
+prostrate form of the supposedly dead warrior.</p>
+
+<p>But so weak was the youthful hero that he had to
+be taken to Venice in order to recover. When strong
+again he resumed his studies for the ministry and was
+sent to Patras, a city that was soon threatened by
+an army of twelve thousand Cypriotes and Frenchmen.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Here, Zeno,&rdquo; cried the Bishop of Patras to the
+virile young stripling. &ldquo;We have seven hundred
+riders in our city. With this mere handful, you must
+defend us against our enemies. The odds are fifteen
+to one against you. But you must struggle valiantly
+to save our beautiful capital.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Aye! Sire!&rdquo; cried the youthful student of church
+history. &ldquo;I shall do my best to free your capital from
+these invaders. May the God of Hosts be with us!
+My men salute you.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>So saying the valiant youth led his small and ill
+drilled company against the besiegers, and, so greatly
+did he harass his adversaries, that they abandoned the
+enterprise, at the end of six months; made peace; and
+retired.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Hail to Zeno!&rdquo; cried many of the soldiers. &ldquo;He
+is a leader well worth our respect. Without him the
+great city would have surely fallen. Yea! Hail to
+young Zeno.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg&nbsp;9]</a></span>
+These words of praise reached the ears of a certain
+Greek Knight named Simon, and so roused his envy,
+that he audaciously accused Carlo of treachery, which
+was soon told to the hot-headed young warrior. He
+acted as one would well expect of him.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I challenge you to single combat,&rdquo; cried he. &ldquo;The
+duel shall be fought in Naples under the eye of Queen
+Johanna.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>In vain Carlo&rsquo;s friends besought him to forgive the
+loose-tongued Simon&mdash;his patron, the Bishop, exhausted
+his eloquence in the endeavor to reconcile the
+two. The hot blood of youth would out. It was fight
+and no compromise. But before the trial, the bold and
+unyielding soldier threw up his position with the
+Church and married a rich and noble lady of Clarenta,
+whose fortune well supplanted the large income which
+he had forfeited by his resignation.</p>
+
+<p>Now honor called for deeds. Almost immediately
+he was obliged to leave for Naples in order to meet the
+detractor of his valor, and, to his surprise, the Queen
+spoke lightly of the quarrel. &ldquo;It is a question of law,&rdquo;
+said she. &ldquo;An inquiry shall be had. There must be
+no bloodshed.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>An inquiry was therefore in order, and it was a
+thorough one. &ldquo;Simon is in the wrong,&rdquo; said the
+fellow acting as clerk for those sitting upon the case.
+&ldquo;He must pay all the expenses to which Zeno has
+been put, and there shall be no duel.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;My honor has been cleared,&rdquo; cried Zeno. &ldquo;I must
+return to Greece.&rdquo; There&mdash;strange as it might seem&mdash;he
+was at once named Governor of a province,
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg&nbsp;10]</a></span>
+though not yet twenty-three. Events were going well
+with him. But his wife died, he was cheated of his
+dowry by her relations, and so he turned once more to
+Venice,&mdash;saddened, older and nearly penniless. The
+wheel of fortune had turned badly for this leader of
+fighting men and future general of white-winged
+galleons of the sea.</p>
+
+<p>But now there was a really good fight&mdash;such a
+fight as all true sailors love&mdash;a fight which tested the
+grit and courage of Zeno to the full. It was the first
+of those heroic deeds of arms which shed undying
+lustre on his name, and marked him as a seaman of
+the first rank,&mdash;a captain of true courage, resources
+and ambition.</p>
+
+<p>The Genoese (or inhabitants of Genoa) and the
+Venetians, were continually at war in these days, and
+when&mdash;in patriotic zeal&mdash;Carlo Zeno seized the
+island of Tenedos, the Venetian Senate, fearing lest
+the Genoese would seek to recover the lost possession,
+sent a fleet of fifteen ships to guard it, under one Pietro
+Mocenigo. There were also two other vessels, one
+commanded by Carlo Zeno himself. The mass of
+galleys floated on to Constantinople, for the Greeks
+had allied themselves with the Genoese, had seized a
+Venetian man-of-war, which had been captured, and
+had then retired. Three lumbering hulks were left to
+protect the fair isle of Tenedos,&mdash;under Zeno, the
+war-like Venetian.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Aha,&rdquo; said a Genoese seaman. &ldquo;There are but
+three galleys left to save our isle of Tenedos. We
+shall soon take it with our superior force. Forward,
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg&nbsp;11]</a></span>
+O sailors! We&rsquo;ll have revenge for the attack of the
+wild men from Venice.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;On! on!&rdquo; cried the Genoese seamen, and without
+further ado, twenty-two galleys careened forward,
+their white sails bellying in the wind, their hawsers
+groaning, spars creaking, and sailors chattering like
+magpies on a May morning.</p>
+
+<p>Carlo Zeno had only three hundred regular soldiers
+and a few archers, but he occupied the suburbs of the
+town and waited for the attackers to land. This they
+did in goodly numbers, for the sea was calm and motionless,
+although it was the month of November.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Men!&rdquo; cried the intrepid Zeno, &ldquo;you are few.
+The enemy are as numerous as blades of grass. Do
+your duty! Fight like Trojans, and, if you win, your
+grateful countrymen will treat you as heroes should be
+respected. Never say die, and let every arrow find an
+opening in the armor of the enemy.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The Genoese came on with shouts of expectancy,
+but they were met with a far warmer reception than
+they had anticipated. The air was filled with flying
+arrows, as, crouching low behind quickly constructed
+redoubts, the followers of the stout-souled Zeno busily
+stretched their bowstrings, and shot their feathered
+barbs into the mass of crowding seamen. Savage
+shouts and hoarse cries of anguish, rose from both
+attackers and attacked, while the voice of Zeno, shrilled
+high above the battle&rsquo;s din, crying: &ldquo;Shoot carefully,
+my men, do not let them defeat us, for the eyes of
+Venice are upon you.&rdquo; So they struggled and bled,
+until the shadows began to fall, when&mdash;realizing that
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg&nbsp;12]</a></span>
+they were unable to take the courageous Venetians&mdash;the
+Genoese withdrew to their ships.</p>
+
+<p>There was laughter and song around the camp fires
+of Zeno&rsquo;s little band, that night, but their leader spoke
+critically of the morrow.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Sleep well, my men,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;for I know that
+our foes are well angered at the beating we have given
+them. Next morn we shall again be at war. Let us
+keep our courage and have as a battle cry, &lsquo;Venice!
+No retreat and no quarter!&rsquo;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>When morning dawned the Genoese were seen to
+land engines of war, with the apparent intention of
+laying siege to the town. Their preparations showed
+that they meant to attack upon the side farthest from
+the castle, so Carlo Zeno&mdash;the quick-witted&mdash;placed
+a number of his men in ambush, among a collection of
+half-ruined and empty houses which stood in that
+quarter. &ldquo;Stay here, my men,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;and when
+the enemy has advanced, charge them with fury. We
+must win to-day, or we will be disgraced.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile the rest of the Venetians had retreated
+inland, and, crouching low behind a screen of brush,
+waited patiently for the Genoese to come up. &ldquo;Be
+cautious,&rdquo; cried Zeno, &ldquo;and when the enemy is within
+striking distance, charge with all the fury which you
+possess.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Aye! Aye! Good master,&rdquo; cried the stubborn
+soldiers. &ldquo;We mark well what you tell us.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Not long afterwards the attacking party came in
+view, and, without suspecting what lay in front, advanced
+with quick gait towards the supposedly
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg&nbsp;13]</a></span>
+defenseless town. But suddenly, with a wild yell, the
+followers of Zeno leaped from behind the screening
+bushes, and dashed towards them. At the same instant,
+the soldiers who had been placed in hiding, attacked
+suddenly from the rear. Arrows poured into
+the ranks of the Genoese, and they fell like wheat before
+the scythe of the reaper. Hoarse shouts, groans,
+and cries of victory and death, welled above the battle&rsquo;s
+din.</p>
+
+<p>In the midst of this affair Carlo Zeno gave a cry of
+pain. An arrow (poisoned &rsquo;tis said) had entered his
+leg and struck him to the ground. But, nothing
+daunted, he rose to cry shrilly to his men, &ldquo;On! On!
+Drive them to the ocean.&rdquo; And, so well did his soldiers
+follow these commands, that the Genoese fled in
+confusion and disorder to their ships. The day was
+won.</p>
+
+<p>As was natural, Zeno paid no attention to his wound,
+and, when the enemy hurried to shore the next day
+for another attack, they were greeted with such a terrific
+discharge of artillery that they gave up their idea
+of capturing the island and sailed away amidst cries of
+derision from the delighted Venetians.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Hurrah!&rdquo; cried they. &ldquo;Hurrah for Zeno!&rdquo; But
+so exhausted was the intrepid leader by reason of his
+wound that he fell into a spasm as if about to die. His
+iron constitution pulled him through, however, and
+soon he and the faithful band returned to Venice,
+covered with glory, and full satisfied with their hard
+won victory.</p>
+
+<p>The daring Zeno was well deserving of praise, for
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg&nbsp;14]</a></span>
+he had beaten a fleet and an army by sheer genius, with
+three ships and a handful of men. To Venice had
+been preserved the valuable island which guards the
+entrance to the Dardanelles, and to her it was to remain
+for years, although the Genoese tried many times and
+oft to wrest it from her grasp.</p>
+
+<p>Now came another struggle&mdash;the war of Chioggia&mdash;a
+struggle in which Carlo Zeno played a great and
+noble part,&mdash;a part, in fact, that has made his name
+a byword among the grateful Venetians: a part in
+which he displayed a leadership quite equal to that of
+a Drake, or a Hawkins, and led his fighting galleons
+with all the courage of a lion. Hark, then, to the
+story of this unfortunate affair! Hark! and let your
+sympathy be stirred for Carlo Zeno, the indefatigable
+navigator of the clumsy shipping of the Italian peninsula!</p>
+
+<p>For years the Republics of Genoa and Venice remained
+at peace, but, for years the merchants of the
+two countries had endeavored to outwit each other in
+trade; and, thus, when the Genoese seized several
+Venetian ships with rich cargoes, in 1350, and refused
+to give them up, war broke out between the rival
+Republics. In two engagements at sea, the Venetians
+were defeated; but in a third they were victorious, and
+forever sullied the banner of St. Mark, which flew
+from their Admiral&rsquo;s mast-head, by causing nearly
+five thousand prisoners of war to be drowned. Fired
+by a desire for immediate revenge upon their foe, the
+Genoese hurried a mighty fleet to sea, and ravaged the
+Italian coast up to the very doors of Venice itself.
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg&nbsp;15]</a></span>
+Several other engagements followed, in most of which
+the Venetians were defeated; and then there were
+twenty years of peace before another conflict.</p>
+
+<p>Finally war broke out afresh. Angry and vindictive,
+the Genoese bore down upon the Venetian coast in
+numerous lumbering galleys, determined&mdash;this time&mdash;to
+reach Venice itself, and to sack this rich and populous
+city. With little difficulty they captured Chioggia,
+a seaport, a populous city and the key to the lagoons
+which led to the heart of the capital. They advanced
+to the very outskirts of Venice, and their cries of joyous
+vindictiveness sounded strangely near to the now
+terrified inhabitants, who, rallying around their old
+generals and city fathers, were determined to fight to
+the last ditch.</p>
+
+<p>As winter came, the victoriously aggressive Genoese
+retreated to Chioggia, withdrawing their fleet into the
+safe harbor to await the spring; leaving only two or
+three galleys to cruise before the entrance, in case the
+now angered Venetians should attack. But they were
+to be rudely awakened from their fancied seclusion.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Lead us on, O Pisani,&rdquo; the Venetians had cried in
+the broad market space of their beloved city. &ldquo;We
+must and will drive these invaders into their own
+country. Never have we received before such insults.
+On! On! to Chioggia.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>So, silent and vengeful, the Venetian fleet stole out
+to sea on the evening of December twenty-first. There
+were thirty-four galleys, sixty smaller armed vessels,
+and hundreds of flat-bottomed boats. Pisani was in
+the rear, towing two heavy, old hulks, laden with
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg&nbsp;16]</a></span>
+stones, to sink in the entrance of the harbor and bottle
+up the fleet, even as the Americans were to sink the
+<i>Merrimac</i> in the Harbor of Santiago, many years
+afterwards.</p>
+
+<p>The Genoese were unready. The cruisers, on duty as
+sentinels, were not where they should have been, and
+so the gallant Pisani scuttled the hulks across the harbor
+entrance and caught the bold marauders like rats
+in a trap. The fleet of the enemy was paralyzed, particularly
+as another river&rsquo;s mouth, some two miles
+southward, was also blockaded. Smiles of satisfaction
+shone upon the faces of the outraged Venetians.</p>
+
+<p>Carlo Zeno was hurrying up with a strong fleet
+manned by veteran seamen, but the now victorious
+followers of Pisani wished to return to Venice.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It is the Christmas season,&rdquo; cried many. &ldquo;We
+have fought like lions. We have shut up our enemy.
+We have averted the extreme danger. Let us return
+to our wives and our children!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You cannot go,&rdquo; said Pisani, sternly. &ldquo;You are
+the entire male population of Venice. Without you the
+great expedition will come to naught, and all of our
+toil will have been thrown away. Only be calm.
+Carlo Zeno will soon be here, and we can then take
+Chioggia!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Alas! Like Columbus, he saw himself upon the
+verge of losing the result of all his labor for lack of
+confidence in him upon the part of his men. He could
+not keep them by force, so wearily and anxiously he
+scanned the horizon for signs of an approaching sail.</p>
+
+<p>The days went slowly by for the lion-hearted Pisani.
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg&nbsp;17]</a></span>
+Carlo Zeno did not come. Day after day the valiant
+leader fearfully looked for the white-winged canvas
+of a Venetian galleon, but none came to view. On the
+thirtieth day of December his men were very mutinous.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We will seize the ships and return to-morrow to
+Venice,&rdquo; cried several. &ldquo;We have had enough of
+war. Our wives and daughters cry to us to return.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Pisani was desperate.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;If Carlo Zeno does not come in forty-eight hours,
+the fleet may return to Lido,&rdquo; said he. &ldquo;Meanwhile,
+keep your guns shooting at the enemy. We must
+make these Genoese feel that we shall soon attack in
+force.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>But Pisani&rsquo;s heart was leaden. Where, yes, where
+was Zeno? New Year&rsquo;s Day came, and, by his promise,
+he must let the Venetians go. What did this
+mean for him? It meant the fall of Venice, the end
+of the Republic, the destruction of the population with
+all that they possessed. He&mdash;their idol, their leader
+for ten days&mdash;could no longer lead, for the Venetians
+could not bear a little cold and hardship for his
+sake. Sad&mdash;yes, sad, indeed&mdash;was the face of the
+stout seaman as he gave one last despairing glance at
+the horizon.</p>
+
+<p>Ha! What was that? A thin, white mark against
+the distant blue! It grew larger and clearer. It was
+the sail of a galley. Another, and another, and another
+hove in sight,&mdash;eighteen in all, and driving
+along swiftly before a heavy wind. But, were they
+hostile, or friendly? That was the question. Was
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg&nbsp;18]</a></span>
+it Zeno, or were these more galleons of the Genoese?
+Then, joy shone in the keen eyes of Pisani, for the
+banner of St. Mark fluttered from the peak of the
+foremost ship, and floated fair upon the morning
+breeze. Hurrah! It was Carlo Zeno, the lion-hearted.</p>
+
+<p>God speed brave Zeno! He had been twice
+wounded in fights along the coast, en route, but nothing
+could diminish his energy, or dampen his ardor.
+He had laid waste the Genoese coast; he had intercepted
+convoys of grain; he had harassed the enemy&rsquo;s
+commerce in the East, and he had captured a huge
+vessel of theirs with five hundred thousand pieces of
+gold. Marvellous Zeno! Brave, courageous Venetian
+sea-dog, you are just in the nick of time!</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Thanks be to Heaven that you have come,&rdquo; cried
+Pisani, tears welling to his eyes. &ldquo;Now we will go
+in and take Chioggia. It means the end of the war
+for us. Again, I say, thanks be to Heaven.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>With renewed hope and confidence the Venetians
+now pushed the siege. Seeing that their fleet could
+never escape, the Genoese started to dig a canal to the
+open sea, by which the boats could be brought off
+during the night. The work was begun, but Carlo
+Zeno discovered it in time. Volunteers were called
+for, a force was soon landed, and, under the leadership
+of Zeno, marched to intercept the diggers of this,
+the only means of escape.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The Venetians are going towards &lsquo;Little
+Chioggia,&rsquo;&rdquo; cried many of the Genoese. &ldquo;We must
+hasten there to stop them.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;">
+<a name="zenos_fleet" id="zenos_fleet"></a>
+<img src="images/fpas04.jpg" width="600" height="349" alt="" />
+<p class="smlfont">From an old print.</p>
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">ZENO&rsquo;S FLEET.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg&nbsp;19]</a></span>
+But Zeno had only made a feint in this direction.
+Throwing his main force in the rear of the Genoese,
+he soon began to cut them up badly. They were
+seized with a panic. They fled towards the bridge of
+Chioggia, trampling upon each other as they ran, pursued
+and slashed to ribbons by Zeno&rsquo;s men. The
+bridge broke beneath the weight of the fugitives and
+hundreds were drowned in the canal, while thousands
+perished near the head of this fateful causeway. It
+was a great and signal victory for Zeno; the intrepid
+sea-dog and campaigner on land.</p>
+
+<p>This was a death blow. That night some of the
+garrison hastened to desert, and, as the siege progressed,
+the drinking water began to fail, the food
+gave out, and starvation stared the holders of Chioggia
+in the face. On the twenty-fourth of June the city
+surrendered; and four thousand one hundred and
+seventy Genoese, with two hundred Paduans&mdash;ghastly
+and emaciated&mdash;more like moving corpses
+than living beings&mdash;marched out to lay down their
+arms. Seventeen galleys, also, were handed over to
+the Venetians: the war-worn relics of the once powerful
+fleet which had menaced Venice itself.</p>
+
+<p>As a feat of generalship, Pisani&rsquo;s blockade of the
+Genoese fleet is rivalled by Sampson&rsquo;s blockade of
+Cervera&rsquo;s squadron at Santiago in 1898, and the military
+operation by which Carlo Zeno tempted the garrison
+of Brondolo into the trap which he had set for
+them, and drove them, like a flock of sheep into
+Chioggia, by sunset, is surely a splendid feat of arms.
+All honor to this intrepid sea-dog of old Venice!</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg&nbsp;20]</a></span>
+How fickle is Dame Fortune! Jealous of the reputation
+of this noble Venetian, the patricians, whose
+advice, during the war, he had consistently declined to
+follow; refused to make him a Doge of the City. It
+was thought that the election of the bravest captain of
+the day might be dangerous to the Republic. Instead
+of doing him honor, they imprisoned him; and was
+he not the noblest patriot of them all?</p>
+
+<p>When over seventy years of age,&mdash;the greatest and
+truest Venetian&mdash;loaned a small sum of money to
+the Prince Carrara, once a power in Venetian politics.
+He had saved his country from destruction. He had
+served her with the most perfect integrity. Yet, he
+reaped the reward which fell to the share of nearly
+every distinguished Venetian; he was feared by the
+government; hated by the nobles whom he had out-stripped
+in honor, and was condemned to prison by
+men who were not worthy to loose the latchet of his
+shoes. Although he had often paid the mercenary soldiers
+to fight for Venice, in the War of Chioggia, from
+his own pocket, he was sent to jail for loaning money
+to an unfortunate political refugee.</p>
+
+<p>When called before the Council of Ten on the night
+of the twentieth of January, 1406, the warrant for his
+examination authorized the use of torture. But even
+the Ten hesitated at this.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;He is a brave man,&rdquo; said one. &ldquo;Pray allow him
+to go untouched.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The prisoner admitted that he had loaned the money.
+His explanation was both honorable and clear. But
+the Ten were obdurate that night.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg&nbsp;21]</a></span>
+&ldquo;He shall go to the Pozzi prison for a year,&rdquo; said
+they. &ldquo;Besides this, he shall suffer the perpetual loss
+of all offices which he has held.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Like a brave man, Carlo Zeno accepted the sentence
+without a murmur, and his sturdy frame did not suffer
+from the confinement. For twelve years longer he
+lived in perfect health; made a pilgrimage to Jerusalem;
+commanded the troops of the Republic once
+again; defeated the Cypriotes, and died peacefully,&mdash;a
+warrior with a name of undiminished lustre, most
+foully tarnished by his own compatriots. His is a
+reputation of undying glory, that of his judges is
+that of eternal shame. All honor to Carlo Zeno, the
+valorous Venetian, who could fight a ship as well as a
+squadron of foot soldiers on land! <i>Salve, Venetia!</i></p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;Dip the banner of St. Mark,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dip&mdash;and let the lions roar.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Zeno&rsquo;s soul has gone above,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Bow&mdash;a warrior&rsquo;s life is o&rsquo;er.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg&nbsp;22]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>HARKEE, BOYS!</h2>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Harkee, Boys! I&rsquo;ll tell you of the torrid, Spanish Main,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where the tarpons leap and tumble in the silvery ocean plain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where the wheeling condors circle; where the long-nosed ant-bears sniff<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">At the food the Jackie &ldquo;caches&rdquo; in the Aztec warrior&rsquo;s cliff.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0"><i>Oh! Hurray for the deck of a galleon stout,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Hurray for the life on the sea,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Hurray! for the cutlass; the dirk; an&rsquo; th&rsquo; pike;</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Wild rovers we will be.</i><br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Harkee, Boys! I&rsquo;ll tell you of the men of Morgan&rsquo;s band,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of Drake and England&mdash;rascals&mdash;in the palm-tree, tropic land.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I&rsquo;ll tell you of bold Hawkins, how he sailed around the Horn.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the Manatees went <em>chuck! chuck! chuck!</em> in the sun-baked, lazy morn.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0"><i>Oh! Hurray for the deck of a galleon stout,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Hurray for the life on the sea,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Hurray! for the cutlass; the dirk; an&rsquo; th&rsquo; pike;</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Wild rovers we will be.</i><br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Harkee, Boys! You&rsquo;re English, and you come of roving blood,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now, when you&rsquo;re three years older, you must don a sea-man&rsquo;s hood,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You must turn your good ship westward,&mdash;you must plough towards the land<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where the mule-train bells go <em>tink! tink! tink!</em> and the bending cocoas stand.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0"><i>Oh! You will be off on a galleon stout,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Oh! You will be men of the sea,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Hurray! for the cutlass; the dirk; an&rsquo; th&rsquo; pike;</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Wild rovers you will be.</i><br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<a name="Page_23" id="Page_23"><!--unnumbered title page --></a>
+<p><span class='pagenum'></span></p>
+
+<h2>SIR FRANCIS DRAKE<br />
+<br />
+ROVER AND SEA RANGER<br />
+<br />
+(1540-1596)</h2>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg&nbsp;24]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;The man who frets at worldly strife<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Grows sallow, sour, and thin;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Give us the lad whose happy life<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is one perpetual grin:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He, Midas-like, turns all to gold,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He smiles, when others sigh,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Enjoys alike the hot and cold,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And laughs through wet and dry.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class="author">&mdash;<span class="smcap">Drake.</span></p>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg&nbsp;25]</a></span></p>
+
+<p class="center padtop">SIR FRANCIS DRAKE<br />
+ROVER AND SEA RANGER<br />
+(1540-1596)</p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Sing a song of stout dubloons,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of gold and jingling brass,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A song of Spanish galleons,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Foul-bottomed as they pass.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of roaring blades and stumbling mules,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of casks of malmsey wine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of red, rip-roaring ruffians,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In a thin, meandering line.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0"><i>They&rsquo;re with Drake, Drake, Drake,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>He can make the sword hilt&rsquo;s shake,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>He&rsquo;s a rattling, battling Captain of the Main.</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>You can see the Spaniards shiver,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>As he nears their shelt&rsquo;ring river,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>While his eyelids never quiver</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>At the slain.</i><br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i1">So,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Here&rsquo;s to Drake, Drake, Drake,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Come&mdash;make the welkin shake,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And raise your frothing glasses up on high.<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">If you love a man and devil,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Who can treat you on the level,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Then, clink your goblet&rsquo;s bevel,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">To Captain Drake.<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p><span class="dropcap">T</span>AKE care, boy, you will fall overboard.
+Take care and do not play with your brother
+near the edge of our good ship, for the
+water here is deep, and I know that you can swim
+but ill.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg&nbsp;26]</a></span>
+The man who spoke was a rough, grizzled sea-dog,
+clad in an old jersey and tarpaulins. He stood upon
+the deck of an aged, dismantled warship, which&mdash;anchored
+in the shallow water near Chatham, England,&mdash;swung
+to and fro in the eddying currents.
+Around him, upon the unwashed deck, scampered a
+swarm of little children, twelve in all, and all of them
+his own.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Very good, Father,&rdquo; spoke the curly-haired
+youngster. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll mind what you tell me. You&rsquo;re
+wrong, though, when you say that I cannot swim, for
+I can, even to yonder shore. Do you want to see me
+do it?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Nay, nay,&rdquo; chuckled the stout seaman. &ldquo;You&rsquo;re
+a boy of courage, Francis. That I can well see. But
+do not try the water. It is cold and you will have
+a cramp and go under. Stick to the quarter-deck.&rdquo;
+And laughing softly to himself, he went below, where
+a strong smell of cooking showed that there was something
+upon the galley stove to feed his hungry crew
+of youthful Englishmen.</p>
+
+<p>It was surely a strange house to bring up a troop
+of merry children in. The sound of wind and waves
+was familiar to them at night and they grew to be
+strong and fearless. But is not this the proper way
+to rear a sea-dog?</p>
+
+<p>These little ducklings, descended from a Drake,
+must have early set their hearts upon adventure and
+a seafaring life. In fact, one of them, young Francis,
+was to be one of the best known seamen of the centuries
+and knighted for his services to the Crown.
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg&nbsp;27]</a></span>
+Reared in a ship, he, by nature, loved the sea as only
+a child of the ocean could have done. The brine ran
+in his blood.</p>
+
+<p>Being the son of a poor man, he was apprenticed
+to a master of a small vessel which used to coast along
+the shore and carry merchandise to France and the
+Netherlands. He learned his business well. So well,
+indeed, that at the death of the master of the
+vessel it was bequeathed &ldquo;to Francis Drake, because
+he was diligent and painstaking and pleased the
+old man, his master, by his industry.&rdquo; But the
+gallant, young sea-dog grew weary of the tiny
+barque.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It only creeps along the shore,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;I want
+to get out upon the ocean and see the world. I will
+therefore enlist with my stout kinsmen, the Hawkins
+brothers, rich merchants both, who build and sail their
+own ships.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>This he did, and thus began the roving life of
+Francis Drake: dare-devil and scourge of the West
+Indian waters.</p>
+
+<p>About fifty years before this lusty mariner had been
+born, America was discovered by Christopher Columbus&mdash;an
+Italian sailor in the service of Spain&mdash;and
+this powerful country had seized a great part of the
+new found land. There was no love lost between the
+Spaniards and the men from the cold, northern British
+Isles and thus Francis Drake spent his entire career
+battling with the black-haired, rapacious, and avaricious
+adventurers who flew the banner of King Philip
+of Arragon. Sometimes he was defeated, more often
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg&nbsp;28]</a></span>
+he was successful. Hark, then, to the tale of his many
+desperate encounters upon the wide waters of the
+surging Atlantic.</p>
+
+<p>Drake had said, &ldquo;I&rsquo;m going to sea with the Hawkins
+and view the world,&rdquo; and, as John Hawkins was
+just about to sail for the West Indies in six ships, the
+youthful and eager mariner was given an opportunity
+to command a vessel called the <i>Judith</i>. The fleet at
+first had good success. Slaves were captured upon the
+African coast and were sold in the West Indies,
+though with difficulty, because the Spaniards had been
+forbidden by their king to trade with the English.
+Laden with treasure and spices, the ships were about
+to start for home, when fearful storms beset them.
+Their beams were badly shattered.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We must seek a haven,&rdquo; cried Hawkins. &ldquo;Ready
+about and steer for Vera Cruz, the port of the City
+of Mexico! There we can buy food and repair our
+fleet!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;&rsquo;Tis well,&rdquo; cried his men, and, aiming for the
+sheltering harbor, they soon ploughed into the smooth
+water of the bay. But there was consternation among
+the Spaniards of the town.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We have treasure here,&rdquo; they whispered to each
+other. &ldquo;See, those English dogs have come to rob
+us! We must fight, brothers, and fight hard to keep
+the cruel Islanders away.&rdquo; And they oiled their pistols
+and sharpened their cutlasses upon their grindstones.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 494px;">
+<a name="francis_drake" id="francis_drake"></a>
+<img src="images/fpas05.jpg" width="494" height="600" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">SIR FRANCIS DRAKE.</p>
+
+<p>But luck was with the inhabitants of Vera Cruz.
+Next morning thirteen careening galleys swept into
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg&nbsp;29]</a></span>
+the quiet waters of the bay and joy shone in the black
+eyes of the Spaniards.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It is a Mexican fleet,&rdquo; cried they. &ldquo;It returns
+with a new Viceroy or Governor, from good King
+Philip of Spain.&rdquo; And they laughed derisively.</p>
+
+<p>But in the breasts of Drake and Hawkins there was
+doubt and suspicion.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;They are sure to attack us,&rdquo; said Hawkins, moving
+among his men. &ldquo;Let every fellow be upon his
+guard.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The Spanish were full of bowings and scrapings.
+They protested their deep friendship for the English
+and wished to be moored alongside.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We are very glad to see you, English brothers,&rdquo;
+said one. &ldquo;We welcome you to the traffic and trade
+of the far East.&rdquo; So they peacefully dropped anchor
+near the suspicious men of England, still smiling, singing,
+and cheerfully waving a welcome to the none-too-happy
+sailors.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Avast,&rdquo; cried Francis Drake, &ldquo;and sleep on your
+arms, my Hearties, for to-morrow there&rsquo;ll be trouble,
+or else my blood&rsquo;s not British.&rdquo; He was but a young
+man, yet he had guessed correctly.</p>
+
+<p>As the first glimmer of day shone in the dim horizon,
+a shot awoke the stillness of the morn. Another
+and another followed in rapid succession. Then
+<em>boom!</em> a cannon roared, and a great iron ball buried
+itself in the decking of the <i>Jesus</i>; the flagship of
+gallant Hawkins.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We&rsquo;re attacked,&rdquo; cried Drake. &ldquo;Man the decks!
+Up sails and steer to sea! Fight as you never fought
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg&nbsp;30]</a></span>
+before! Strike and strike hard for dear old England!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>But his warning almost came too late, for two
+Spanish galleons ranged alongside and swung grappling
+irons into his rigging in order to close with the
+moving vessel. The Englishmen struck at them with
+oars and hand-spikes, knocking the tentacles of the
+on-coming octopus aside, and, with sails flying and
+shots rattling, the <i>Judith</i> bore towards the open sea.</p>
+
+<p>The fight was now furious. Two of the English
+ships were sunk and the <i>Jesus</i>, Hawkins&rsquo; own boat,
+was so badly damaged that she lay apparently helpless
+in the trough of the surging ocean.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Back, my Hearties,&rdquo; cried Drake, &ldquo;and we&rsquo;ll see
+what we can do to save our gallant captain.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>So back they sailed, and, firing their little cannon
+with rapidity, soon held off the Spanish ship which
+threatened Hawkins himself with capture. Some of
+the English sailors jumped into their boats and rowed
+away, some gave in to the Spaniards, and some fought
+relentlessly. Thus raged the battle until the evening.</p>
+
+<p>As night fell, Drake ordered the <i>Judith</i> to put to
+sea, Hawkins followed, and wandering about in these
+unknown parts, with little water and a scarcity of
+food, hunger forced the weary sailors to eat hides,
+cats, dogs, mice, rats, parrots and monkeys.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It was the troublesome voyage,&rdquo; wrote Hawkins,
+and such, indeed, it had proved to be. Some of the
+sailors asked to be placed on land rather than risk
+shipwreck and starvation in the overcrowded boat.
+Some of them reached England after years of
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg&nbsp;31]</a></span>
+suffering and weary journeying to and fro. Some were
+captured by the Spaniards and were put to death as
+heretics. A few were sent to the galleys as slaves.
+Others, more fortunate, were rowed ashore to serve
+in monasteries, where the monks made kind and gentle
+masters.</p>
+
+<p>And what of the youthful and danger-loving
+Drake? Five days before the wind-swept <i>Jesus</i> struggled
+into Plymouth harbor with Hawkins and a famine-driven
+crew, Drake and his own adventurous Englishmen
+steered the little <i>Judith</i> to the rocky headland
+which hides this sheltering refuge from the fury of
+the sea.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I am indeed right glad to reach Merrie England
+again,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;for we have had a rough and dangerous
+voyage. The Spaniards are treacherous dogs.
+They betrayed us, and henceforth I, for one, shall
+show them no quarter.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>So saying he journeyed to London to see the good
+Queen Elizabeth.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It is impossible for me to wage war upon Philip
+of Spain,&rdquo; said the valiant Mistress of England&rsquo;s destinies,
+when she heard his story of loss of kinsmen,
+friends and goods of great value. &ldquo;I have a poor
+country. The navy of my fathers has been ruined. I
+have no proper army with which to avenge the treachery
+of Spain, and I have trouble with both France
+and Scotland. If you would have revenge, take matters
+into your own hands.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Philip is the mightiest monarch in the world to-day,&rdquo;
+answered the well-bronzed mariner, bowing low.
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg&nbsp;32]</a></span>
+&ldquo;I am only a humble seafarer without either ships
+or money, but, most gracious Majesty, I am going
+to help myself in my quarrel with the King of Spain.
+From henceforth there will be war to the death between
+myself and the men of the south.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The good Queen smiled, for she truly loved a valiant
+man.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;May God be with you,&rdquo; said she.</p>
+
+<p>It was not long before the danger-loving mariner
+was again headed for the West Indies and the Spanish
+Main, with a crew of seventy-three men and boys.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We believe in our leader,&rdquo; said one. &ldquo;He will
+take us on to fortune and to fame.&rdquo; And this was
+the sentiment of all, for who does not love a voyage
+after gold and treasure?</p>
+
+<p>Ploughing relentlessly across the deep, the two ships
+which carried these roving blades, reached the palm-clad
+West Indies in twenty-five days. All were cheerful
+and gay, for before them was danger, excitement,
+battle, and Spanish gold. &ldquo;Lead on, Captain Drake,&rdquo;
+cried one of the men. &ldquo;We wish to land at Plymouth
+with our pockets stuffed with Spanish dubloons.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;ll take you to the seaport of Nombre de Dios,&rdquo;
+said the bluff sea ranger. &ldquo;There is gold and silver
+in this spot, and by the hogshead. Furthermore,&rdquo; he
+added chuckling, &ldquo;most of it will be in the hold of
+our stout ships, the <i>Pascha</i> and the <i>Swan</i>, before another
+moon.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>So the sailors were drilled in attack and sword play,
+while arms were distributed, which, up to now, had
+been kept &ldquo;very fair and safe in good casks.&rdquo; All
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg&nbsp;33]</a></span>
+were in a cheerful mood, for the excitement of battle
+had begun to stir the hot blood in their veins.</p>
+
+<p>Late in the afternoon, the pinnaces (which had been
+carried on deck) were launched, and climbing aboard,
+the men of Merrie England set sail for the Spanish
+town. They lay under the shore, out of sight, until
+dark. Then they rowed with muffled oars to the
+shadows of the precipitous cliffs which here jutted
+into the rolling ocean, and quietly awaited the dawn.</p>
+
+<p>At three in the morning, while the silvery light of
+a half moon was just reddened with the first flush of
+dawn, the eager buccaneers landed upon the sandy
+beach. &ldquo;Hark!&rdquo; cried a youth, &ldquo;We are already
+discovered.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>As he spoke, the noise of bells, drums, and shouting,
+came to the startled ears of the invaders.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Twelve men will remain behind to guard the pinnaces,&rdquo;
+cried Drake. &ldquo;The rest must follow me and
+fight even to the last ditch. Forward!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Splitting into two bands, the Englishmen rushed
+through the narrow streets with a wild cheer ringing
+in the silent air. Drake&rsquo;s brother&mdash;with a certain
+John Oxenham and sixteen others&mdash;hurried around
+behind the King&rsquo;s treasure-house, and entered the
+eastern side of the market-place; while Drake, himself,
+marched up the main street with bugles blowing,
+drums rolling, and balls of lighted tow blazing from
+the end of long pikes carried by his stout retainers.
+The townsfolk were terrified with the din and blaze
+of fire. &ldquo;An army is upon us,&rdquo; cried many. &ldquo;We
+must flee for our lives.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg&nbsp;34]</a></span>
+In spite of this, a goodly number rallied at the
+market-place, where there was a sharp fight. But
+nothing could withstand the onset of the men from
+the fog-swept island, and soon the Spaniards fled,
+leaving two behind who had been captured and held.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You must show us the Governor&rsquo;s house,&rdquo; cried
+Drake. &ldquo;All the treasure is there.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The two captives obeyed unwillingly, and great was
+the disappointment of the English when they found
+only bars of silver in the spacious mansion.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;On! To the King&rsquo;s treasure-house!&rdquo; again
+shouted the bold mariner. &ldquo;There, at least, must be
+gold and jewels.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>In fact the English were furious with disappointment,
+for, as they reached the Governor&rsquo;s mansion
+(strongly built of lime and stone for the safe keeping
+of treasure) the eager pillagers rushed through the
+wide-open doorway. A candle stood lighted upon the
+top of the stairs. Before the threshold a horse stood
+champing his bit, as if recently saddled for the Governor,
+himself, while, by the flickering gleam of the
+taper, a huge glittering mass of silver bars was seen
+piled from floor to ceiling. That was all,&mdash;no caskets
+of gold or precious stones were to be seen.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Stand to your weapons, men!&rdquo; cried Drake.
+&ldquo;The town is full of people. Move carefully to the
+King&rsquo;s treasure-house which is near the waterside.
+There are more gold and jewels in that spot than all
+our pinnaces can carry.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>As the soldiers hurried where he led, a negro called
+Diego, rushed panting from the direction of the shore.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg&nbsp;35]</a></span>
+&ldquo;Marse Drake! Marse Drake!&rdquo; he wailed. &ldquo;De
+boats am surrounded by de Spanish. Dey will sholy
+be captured if you do not hurry back. Fo&rsquo; de Lohd&rsquo;s
+sake, Massa, come down to de sho&rsquo;.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;My brother and John Oxenham will hasten to the
+shore,&rdquo; cried Drake. &ldquo;Meanwhile, my Hearties, come
+batter down the doorway to this noble mansion. You
+are at the mouth of the greatest treasure-chest in the
+world.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>As the valiant captain spoke these words, he stepped
+forward to deal a blow, himself, at the stout door
+which shut him from the glittering riches. But suddenly
+he reeled and almost fell. Blood flowed in great
+quantities upon the sand, from a wound in his leg
+which he had received in the furious struggle within
+the market-place.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Come, Captain,&rdquo; cried one of his retainers, seizing
+him in his arms. &ldquo;You must hasten to our pinnaces.
+What brooks this treasure to us when we lose you,
+for, if you live we can secure gold and silver enough
+at any time, but if you die we can find no more.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I fear me that I am grievously hurt,&rdquo; sadly spake
+the Captain. &ldquo;Give me but a drink and then I think
+that I can reach our boats.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>A soldier stooped and bound his scarf about the
+wounded leg of the now weakened leader, and, bearing
+him aloft, the little band of adventurers turned
+toward the ocean side. They soon embarked, with
+many wounded besides the Captain, though none were
+slain save one trumpeter.</p>
+
+<p>Although the surgeons were kept busy in providing
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg&nbsp;36]</a></span>
+remedies and salves for the hurts of the soldiers, their
+main care was for the bold Francis Drake,&mdash;leader
+of this desperate expedition in quest of treasure.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;If we lose you,&rdquo; cried a sailor, &ldquo;we can scarce get
+home again. But while we enjoy your presence and
+have you in command of us, we can recover enough
+of wealth.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Before we left the harbor we took, with little
+trouble, a ship of wine for the greater comfort of our
+company,&rdquo; writes one of the stout soldiers in this
+brave affair. &ldquo;And though they shot at us from the
+town we carried our prize to the Isle of Victuals.
+Here we cured our wounded men and refreshed ourselves
+in the goodly gardens which we found there
+abounding with great store of dainty roots and fruit.
+There were also great plenty of poultry and other
+fowls, no less strange and delicate.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Although unsuccessful&mdash;as you see&mdash;the brave
+mariners were not daunted, and, after the wounded
+had recovered, a new expedition was determined upon,
+with the purpose of capturing one of the trains of
+mules which carried gold from Vera Cruz to Panama.
+Drake had been joined by numerous Maroons&mdash;negroes
+who had escaped from the Spaniards and
+had turned bandits&mdash;and these were quite willing and
+ready to aid him in the pursuit of treasure. But before
+the English marauders moved towards the interior,
+they attempted to attack Cartagena, the capital
+of the Spanish Main.</p>
+
+<p>Sailing into the harbor in front of this prosperous
+town, one evening, they found that the townsfolk had
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg&nbsp;37]</a></span>
+been well warned of their coming; they rang their
+bells and fired their cannon, while all of the soldiers
+ranged themselves before the ramparts.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Egad,&rdquo; cried Drake, with strange cheerfulness, in
+spite of his disappointment. &ldquo;They&rsquo;re far too ready
+to receive us. We&rsquo;ve got to withdraw.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>So they prowled around the mouth of the harbor,
+captured two ships, outward bound, and roared with
+laughter as they read a letter, written to warn all
+nearby citizens of &ldquo;that terrible marauder, pirate, and
+butcher, Captain Drake.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The Spaniards carry no treasure by land during
+the rainy months,&rdquo; said one of the natives. &ldquo;You
+must wait for five full moons, if you wish to catch a
+mule train.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;All right,&rdquo; said Captain Drake. &ldquo;We&rsquo;ll fortify
+a place of refuge&mdash;explore&mdash;and await the propitious
+moment when we can hope for success.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Thus they tarried patiently until they heard from
+the Maroons (who ranged the country up and down)
+that a large fleet had arrived from Spain at Nombre
+de Dios. This was glad news. Drake smiled as he
+heard it, and prepared immediately to make a land
+journey to Panama with forty-eight followers, carrying
+provisions, arms, and many pairs of shoes, because
+they were to cross several rivers of stone and
+gravel.</p>
+
+<p>The way lay between great palm trees and through
+cool and pleasant woods where the sturdy Englishmen
+were much encouraged when they heard that there
+stood a great tree, not far from where they were,
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg&nbsp;38]</a></span>
+from which one could see both the North Sea (Atlantic)
+from which they were journeying, and the
+South Sea (Pacific) towards which they were going.
+Finally&mdash;upon the fourth day&mdash;they came to a very
+steep hill, lying east and west like a ridge, and, at this
+point, Pedro&mdash;chief of the Maroons&mdash;took Drake
+by the hand, saying,</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Follow me, O Captain, and I will show you two
+seas at once, for you are in the very centre of this
+country. Behold you stand in the heart of this fertile
+land.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Looking before him, the lion-hearted adventurer
+saw a high tree in which had been cut many steps,
+so that one could climb to the top. Here was a convenient
+bower large enough for ten or twelve men to
+seat themselves. Then&mdash;without further ado&mdash;he
+and the chief Maroon clambered into the spreading
+branches and gazed across the nodding palm tops
+into the dim distance. It was a fair day, and, as the
+Maroons had felled certain trees so that the prospect
+might be more clear, upon the delighted vision of
+the Englishman burst the vista of the blue Atlantic
+and shimmering Pacific.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I pray Almighty God in all his goodness,&rdquo; cried
+out the adventurous Drake in loud tones of appreciation,
+&ldquo;that I may have life and leave to sail but once
+an English ship in this mighty ocean of the West!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Then he called up the rest of the voyagers, and
+told them of his prayer and purpose.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I will follow you by God&rsquo;s grace!&rdquo; cried John
+Oxenham, &ldquo;unless you do not wish my company.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg&nbsp;39]</a></span>
+Drake smiled good-humoredly, and, with a wave
+of his arm in the direction of the glistening waters,
+descended to the ground.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;On, my hearties!&rdquo; cried he, &ldquo;and we&rsquo;ll soon bag
+a mule train with its panniers filled with gold.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The men started forward, singing an old English
+ballad. As they walked through the high pampas
+grass, they began to get glimpses of Panama and the
+low-lying ships in the harbor. They kept silence and
+at length hid themselves in a grove near the high road
+from Panama to Nombre de Dios, while a negro was
+sent into the city as a spy.</p>
+
+<p>In the afternoon the faithful henchman returned.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;A certain great man intends to go to Spain by
+the first ship,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;He is travelling towards
+Nombre de Dios this very night with his daughter
+and his family. He has fourteen mules, eight of
+which are laden with gold and one with jewelry.
+Two other trains of fifty mules each&mdash;burdened with
+food and little silver&mdash;will also come up this night.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The English smiled, and, without more ado,
+marched to within two miles of Vera Cruz, where
+half of them lay down upon one side of the road,
+and half upon the other. They were screened by the
+tall grass; so well, indeed, that no eye could see them,
+and in an hour&rsquo;s time, to their eager ears came the
+sound of mule trains passing to and fro near Vera
+Cruz, where trade was lively because of the presence
+of the Spanish fleet. All was propitious for a successful
+attack.</p>
+
+<p>But misfortune seemed always to follow the bold
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg&nbsp;40]</a></span>
+and adventurous Drake. As mischance would have
+it, one of his men called Robert Pike, who had &ldquo;drunk
+too much brandy without water,&rdquo; was lying close to
+the roadway by the side of a grinning Maroon, and,
+when a well-mounted cavalier from Vera Cruz rode
+by&mdash;with his page running at his stirrup&mdash;he rose
+up to peer at him, even though his companion pulled
+him down in the endeavor to hide his burly form.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Sacre Nom de Dieu,&rdquo; cried the traveller. &ldquo;It
+is a white man! An Englishman!&rdquo; and, putting
+spurs to his horse, he rode away at a furious gallop
+in order to warn others of the highwayman&rsquo;s position.</p>
+
+<p>The ground was hard and the night was still. As
+Captain Drake heard the gentleman&rsquo;s trot change into
+a gallop, he uttered a round British oath.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Discovered,&rdquo; he muttered, &ldquo;but by whose fault
+I know not. We&rsquo;ll await the other trains and mayhap
+we&rsquo;ll have some booty yet.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The gentleman, in fact, warned the Treasurer, who,
+fearing that Captain Drake had wandered to this hidden
+thicket, turned his train of mules aside and let
+the others&mdash;who were behind him&mdash;pass on. Thus,
+by recklessness of one of the company, a rich booty
+was lost, but&mdash;as an Englishman has well said, &ldquo;We
+thought that God would not let it be taken, for likely
+it was well gotten by that Treasurer.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>There was no use repining, for soon a tinkling of
+bells and tread of hoofs came to the eager ears of
+the adventurers, and, through the long pampas grass
+ambled the other two mule trains&mdash;their drivers
+snapping the whips with little thought of the lurking
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg&nbsp;41]</a></span>
+danger. In a moment they were between the English
+and hidden Maroons, who&mdash;with a wild cheer&mdash;dashed
+upon them, surrounded them, and easily held
+them in their power. Two horse loads of silver was
+the prize for all this trouble and hard travel.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I never grieve over things past,&rdquo; cried Drake.
+&ldquo;We must now march home by the shortest route.
+It is certainly provoking that we lost the mule train
+of gold, particularly as we were betrayed by one of
+our own men. Come, soldiers, turn about and retreat
+to our good ships.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Half satisfied but cheerful, the soldiers and Maroons
+turned towards the coast, and, as they neared
+Vera Cruz, the infantrymen of the town swarmed
+outside to attack the hated men of Merrie England,
+with cries of, &ldquo;Surrender! Surrender!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Drake looked at them scornfully, replying,</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;An Englishman never surrenders!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>At this a volley rang out and one of the intrepid
+adventurers was &ldquo;so powdered with hail-shot that he
+could not recover his life, although he continued all
+that day with Drake&rsquo;s men.&rdquo; But stout Francis blew
+his whistle&mdash;the signal for attack&mdash;and, with a wild
+cry, the Maroons and English rushed for the black-haired
+and sallow-skinned defenders of the town.
+&ldquo;Yo Peho! Yo Peho!&rdquo; wailed the half-crazed natives
+as they leaped high in the air, and encouraged
+by the presence of the English, they broke through
+the thickets at the town&rsquo;s end and forced the enemy
+to fly, while the now terrified Spanish scurried pell
+mell down the coast. Several of Drake&rsquo;s followers
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg&nbsp;42]</a></span>
+were wounded, and one Maroon was run through
+with a pike, but his courage was so great that he
+revenged his own death ere he died, by slaying a
+Spaniard who opposed him.</p>
+
+<p>At sunrise the land pirates continued their journey,
+carrying some plunder from Vera Cruz. Some of the
+men fainted with weakness, but two Maroons would
+carry them along until they could again walk, and thus&mdash;struggling,
+cursing and singing&mdash;the party of
+weary and disappointed marauders neared the place
+where they had left their ship. A messenger was sent
+forward with a golden toothpick to those left behind
+upon the vessel and a request that the ship be brought
+into the narrow channel of a certain river. It was
+done, and when at last the weary plunderers reached
+the shore, they gave a mighty cheer as they saw the
+white, bellying sails of their staunch, English vessel.
+Their journey for pelf and jewels had been a
+failure.</p>
+
+<p>This did not discourage the lion-hearted Drake,
+who declared, with a smile, &ldquo;We&rsquo;ll yet catch a mule
+train, boys, and one in which the panniers are filled
+with sufficient gold to sink our good ship. Keep your
+hearts bright and I&rsquo;ll gain you enough of treasure to
+house you in peace and comfort in your old age.
+Remember&mdash;&lsquo;Fortune favors the brave!&rsquo;&rdquo; He had
+spoken with truth.</p>
+
+<p>Not long afterwards a French captain appeared,
+whose men were only too eager for a little journey
+ashore after golden mule trains and battle. So a
+party was made up of twenty Frenchmen, fifteen
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg&nbsp;43]</a></span>
+Englishmen, and some Maroons, who sailed with a frigate
+and two pinnaces, towards a river called Rio Francisco&mdash;to
+the west of Nombre de Dios. They landed,
+struck inland, and were soon near the high road from
+Panama to Nombre de Dios, where mule trains passed
+daily&mdash;some with food and merchandise&mdash;a few
+with golden ingots and bars of silver.</p>
+
+<p>In silence they marched along and spent the night
+about a mile from the road, where they could plainly
+hear the carpenters working on their ships&mdash;which
+they did at night because of the fierce, torrid sun during
+the day. Next morning&mdash;the first of April, but
+not an April Fool&rsquo;s day by any means&mdash;they heard
+such a number of bells that the Maroons began
+to chuckle and say, &ldquo;You will have much gold.
+Yo Peho! Yo Peho! This time we will all be
+rich!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly three mule trains came to view, one of
+fifty long-eared beasts of burden; two of seventy each,
+with every animal carrying three hundred pounds
+weight of silver, amounting to nearly thirty tons. The
+sight seemed almost too good to be true. With a wild
+shout the ambuscaders leaped from their hiding places
+to rush frantically upon the startled drivers. In a
+few moments the train was in possession of Drake
+and his French and half-negro associates, who chuckled
+and grunted like peccaries.</p>
+
+<p>The leading mules were taken by the heads and all
+the rest lay down, as they always do when stopped.
+The fifteen soldiers who guarded each train were
+routed, but not before they had wounded the French
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg&nbsp;44]</a></span>
+captain most severely and had slain one of the Maroons.
+Silver bars and gold ingots were there aplenty.
+They were seized and carried off, while, what was
+not transported, was buried in the earthen burrows
+made by the great land crabs under fallen trees, and
+in the sand and gravel of a shallow river.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And now for home,&rdquo; cried a valorous sea farer,
+after a party had returned with a portion of the buried
+treasure, which was divided equally between the
+French and the English. Much of that left in the
+sand crab holes had been discovered by the Spaniards&mdash;but
+not all. Thirteen bars of silver and a few
+quoits of gold had rewarded the search of the expectant
+voyageurs.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; cried all. &ldquo;Sails aloft for Merrie England!&rdquo;
+So, spreading canvas, the bold adventurers
+were soon headed for the foggy and misty isle from
+which they had come. On Sunday, August ninth,
+1573&mdash;just about sermon time&mdash;they dropped anchor
+in the peaceful harbor of Plymouth.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And the news of the Captain&rsquo;s return brought
+unto his people, did so speedily pass over all the
+church, and fill the minds of the congregation with
+delight and desire to see him, that very few, or none,
+remained with the preacher. All hastened to see the
+evidence of God&rsquo;s love and blessing towards the gracious
+Queen and country, by the fruit of the gallant
+mariner&rsquo;s labor and success.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;To God alone,&rdquo; spake an humble citizen of Plymouth,
+&ldquo;be the Glory.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;">
+<a name="drakes_greatest_victory" id="drakes_greatest_victory"></a>
+<img src="images/fpas06.jpg" width="600" height="394" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">DRAKE&rsquo;S GREATEST VICTORY ON THE SPANISH MAIN.<br />
+(The surrender of Don Anton to Sir Francis Drake, March 1, 1579.)</p>
+
+<p>And all echoed these pious sentiments, in spite of
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg&nbsp;45]</a></span>
+the fact that Drake was a robber, a pirate, and a
+buccaneer. But was he not their own countryman?</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<p>The scene now changes. It is a gray day at Plymouth
+and anxious faces peer into the street from the
+windows of the low, tiled houses. A crowd has collected
+upon the jutting cliffs and all gaze with eager
+eyes towards the ocean. Men speak in hushed and
+subdued voices, for there is trouble in the air.</p>
+
+<p>Among the knots of keen-eyed English there is one
+small party which seems to be as joyous as a lot of
+school-boys. Five men are playing at bowls, and one
+of them is stout, and well knit, and swarthy visaged
+with long exposure to the elements. He is laughing
+uproariously, when a lean fellow comes running from
+the very edge of those beetling cliffs which jut far out
+into the gray, green Atlantic.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Hark&rsquo;ee, Captain Drake!&rdquo; he cries. &ldquo;Ships are
+in the offing, and many of them too! It must be the
+fleet of Philip of Spain come to ravage our beauteous
+country!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ah, indeed,&rdquo; answers the staunch-figured captain,
+without looking up. &ldquo;Then let me have one last shot,
+I pray thee, before I go to meet them.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>And so saying, he calmly tosses another ball
+upon the greensward, knocks aside the wooden pins,
+then smiling, turns and strides towards the waterside.</p>
+
+<p>Thus Drake&mdash;the lion-hearted&mdash;goes out to battle
+with the great Armada of Philip of Spain, with a
+smile upon his lips, and full confidence in his ability
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg&nbsp;46]</a></span>
+to defeat the Spaniards at home as well as on the
+Spanish Main. Let us see how he fared?</p>
+
+<p>Smarting with keen anger at Drake and his successful
+attacks upon his western possessions, Philip&mdash;the
+powerful monarch of Spain&mdash;determined to
+gather a great fleet together and to invade England
+with a mighty army.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That rascally pirate has beaten me at Cadiz, at
+Cartagena, and at Lisbon,&rdquo; the irate king had roared,
+with no show of composure. &ldquo;Now I will sail against
+him and crush this buccaneer, so that he and his kind
+can never rise again.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>A mighty fleet of heavy ships&mdash;the Armada&mdash;was
+not ready to sail until July, 1588, and the months
+before this had been well spent by the English in
+preparation for defense, for they knew of the full
+intention of their southern enemy. Shipwrights
+worked day and night. The clamoring dockyards
+hummed with excitement, while Good Queen Bess and
+her Ministers of State wrote defiant letters to the
+missives from the Spanish crown. The cold blood
+of the English&mdash;always quite lukewarm in their
+misty, moisty isle&mdash;had begun to boil with vigor.
+The Britons would fight valiantly.</p>
+
+<p>As the lumbering galleons neared the English coast,
+a heavy mist which hid them, blew away, and the men
+of England saw the glimmering water fairly black
+with the wooden vultures of old Spain. The Spaniards
+had come ready to fight in the way in which
+they had won many a brilliant victory; with a horde
+of towering hulks, of double-deckers and store-ships
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg&nbsp;47]</a></span>
+manned by slaves and yellow-skinned retainers, who
+despised big guns and loved a close encounter with
+hand thrusts and push of pike. Like a huge, wooden
+octopus this arrogant fleet of Arragon moved its tentacles
+around the saucy, new-made pinnaces of the
+tight little isle.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The boats of the English were very nimble and
+of good steerage,&rdquo; writes a Spaniard, &ldquo;so that the
+English did with them as they desired. And our
+ships being very heavy compared with the lightness of
+those of the enemy, it was impossible to come to hand-stroke
+with them.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>This tells the whole story. With a light wind astern&mdash;the
+war ships of the English bore down easily upon
+the heavy-bottomed Spanish galleons and fired their
+guns at the hulls of the enemy.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t waste your balls upon the rigging,&rdquo; cried
+Drake through a trumpet. &ldquo;Sight low and sink &rsquo;em
+if you can. But keep away from the grappling hooks
+so&rsquo;s not to let &rsquo;em get hold of you. If they once do&mdash;you&rsquo;re
+lost!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Now was the sound of splitting of boards, as the
+solid shot pumped great holes in the sides of the high
+rocking galleons. Dense clouds of vapor hung over
+the struggling combatants&mdash;partly from a sea fog
+which the July sun had not thoroughly burned away,
+and partly from the spitting mouths of the cannon.
+Fire burst from the decks, the roar of the guns was
+intermingled with the shrill wails of the slaves, the
+guttural cries of the seamen, the screams of the
+wounded and the derisive howls of those maddened
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg&nbsp;48]</a></span>
+by battle. The decks were crimson with blood; sails
+split and tore as the chain-shot hummed through the
+rigging, and the sharp twang of the arquebusques
+was mingled with the crash of long-barrelled muskets.</p>
+
+<p>No men can fight like those who are defending
+their own homes. At Gettysburg, the Army of the
+Potomac&mdash;twice beaten in an attack upon the South
+in the enemy&rsquo;s country&mdash;struggled as it had never
+done before,&mdash;and won. It had nowhere battled as
+when the foe was pushing it back upon its own soil
+and cities.</p>
+
+<p>So here&mdash;no fighters ever bled as did the English
+when the greedy hands of Spain were clutching at
+their shores. The light ships hung near the Spaniards
+at a distance and did not board until spars were
+down and the great rakish hulls were part helpless.
+Then&mdash;with a wild cheer&mdash;the little galleons&mdash;often
+two at a time&mdash;would grapple with the enemy
+and board&mdash;cutlasses swinging, pistols spitting, and
+hand-spikes hewing a way through the struggling,
+yellow-faced ruffians of Philip of Arragon.</p>
+
+<p>While the awful battle raged, fire ships were prepared
+on shore and sent down upon the Spanish fleet,
+burning fiercely and painting the skyline with red.
+Some of the large vessels had anchored, and, as these
+terrors approached, they slipped their cables in order
+to escape. Confusion beset the ranks of the boastful
+foe and cheered on the British bull-dogs to renewed
+exertions.</p>
+
+<p>At six in the evening a mighty cry welled from the
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg&nbsp;49]</a></span>
+British boats. &ldquo;They fly! They fly!&rdquo; sounded above
+the ruck and roar of battle.</p>
+
+<p>Yes&mdash;it was the truth. Beaten and dismayed, the
+Spanish fleet bore away to the North, while the English&mdash;in
+spite of the fact that their powder was wet,
+and nearly all spent&mdash;&ldquo;gave them chase as if they
+lacked nothing, until they had cleared their own coast
+and some part of Scotland of them.&rdquo; The Armada&mdash;split,
+part helpless&mdash;drifted away from Plymouth,
+and wild cheers of joy came from the deck of the vessel
+which carried bold Sir Francis Drake. The great
+battle had been won.</p>
+
+<p>So crippled were many of the Spanish hulks that
+they were wrecked in stormy weather, off the coast
+of Scotland and Ireland. Not half of those who put
+to sea ever reached Spain again. Many sailors were
+drowned, or perished miserably by the hands of the
+natives of the coast, and some who escaped were put
+to death by the Queen&rsquo;s orders. Fever and sickness
+broke out in the English ships and the followers of
+bold Drake died by hundreds, &ldquo;sickening one day and
+perishing the next.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The English vessels, themselves, were in a bad way&mdash;they
+had to be disinfected and the men put ashore&mdash;where
+the report of the many wrecks and the massacre
+of Spanish soldiers, eased the anxiety of the
+once terrified inhabitants of the tight little isle, and
+made it certain that the Armada would never return.
+Drake and his bold seamen had saved the people of
+Merrie England. Again hats off to this pirate of the
+Spanish Main!</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg&nbsp;50]</a></span>
+Safely settled in Buckland Abbey, knighted, honored,
+respected&mdash;the hero of the defense of England&mdash;one
+would think that Drake would have remained
+peacefully at home to die &ldquo;with his boots on.&rdquo; But
+not so. The spirit of adventure called to him with
+irresistible force, and again he set out for the Spanish
+Main. He had sailed around the world before his
+grapple with the Armada; he had harassed the Spaniard
+in an expedition to Lisbon; he was the idol of
+the English. He had done enough&mdash;you say. Yes,
+he had done enough&mdash;but&mdash;like all men who love
+the game of life he wished to have just one more
+expedition in search of gold and adventure, for&mdash;by
+nature he was a gambler, and he was throwing the
+dice with Fate.</p>
+
+<p>So a goodly crew sailed with him again, hoping
+for another raid upon mule trains and cities of treasure.
+But alas! There was to be a different story
+from the others. All the towns and hamlets of the
+Spanish Main had been warned to &ldquo;be careful and
+look well to themselves, for that Drake and Hawkins
+were making ready in England to come upon them.&rdquo;
+And when the English arrived they found stout defense
+and valiant men, nor was a sail seen &ldquo;worth
+giving chase unto.&rdquo; Hawkins died, many grew ill of
+fever, and finally Drake, himself, succumbed to the
+malarial atmosphere of Panama. He was to remain
+where gold and adventure had first lured him.</p>
+
+<p>On January the twenty-eighth, 1596, the great captain
+yielded up his spirit &ldquo;like a Christian, quietly in
+his cabin.&rdquo; And a league from the shore of Porto
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg&nbsp;51]</a></span>
+Rico, the mighty rover of the seas was placed in a
+weighted hammock and tossed into the sobbing ocean.
+The spume frothed above the eddying current, sucked
+downward by the emaciated form of the famous mariner,
+and a solitary gull shrieked cruelly above the bubbles,
+below which&mdash;upon beads of coral and clean
+sand&mdash;rested the body of Sir Francis Drake, rover,
+rogue, and rattling sea ranger. It was his last journey.</p>
+
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;Weep for this soul, who, in fathoms of azure,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lies where the wild tarpon breaks through the foam,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where the sea otter mews to its brood in the ripples,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As the pelican wings near the palm-forest gloom.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ghosts of the buccaneers flit through the branches,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dusky and dim in the shadows of eve,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While shrill screams the parrot,&mdash;the lord of Potanches,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&lsquo;Drake, Captain Drake, you&rsquo;ve had your last leave.&rsquo;&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg&nbsp;52]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>SEA IRONY</h2>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">One day I saw a ship upon the sands<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Careened upon beam ends, her tilted deck<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Swept clear of rubbish of her long-past wreck;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her colors struck, but not by human hands;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her masts the driftwood of what distant strands!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her frowning ports, where, at the Admiral&rsquo;s beck,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Grim-visaged cannon held the foe in check,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Gaped for the frolic of the minnow bands.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The seaweed banners in her fo&rsquo;ks&rsquo;le waved,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A turtle basked upon her capstan head;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her cabin&rsquo;s pomp the clownish sculpin braved,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And, on her prow, where the lost figure-head<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Once turned the brine, a name forgot was graved,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It was &ldquo;The Irresistible&rdquo; I read.<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class="author">&mdash;<span class="smcap">Heaton.</span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<a name="Page_53" id="Page_53"><!--unnumbered title page --></a>
+<p><span class='pagenum'></span></p>
+
+<h2>SIR WALTER RALEIGH<br />
+<br />
+PERSECUTOR OF THE SPANIARDS<br />
+<br />
+(1552-1618)</h2>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg&nbsp;54]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>&ldquo;All great men have lived by hope.&rdquo;&mdash;<span class="smcap">James Freeman Clarke.</span></p>
+</div>
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;">
+<a name="young_raleigh" id="young_raleigh"></a>
+<img src="images/fpas07.jpg" width="600" height="502" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">YOUNG RALEIGH AND A COMPANION LISTENING TO TALES OF THE
+SPANISH MAIN.</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg&nbsp;55]</a></span></p>
+
+<p class="center padtop">SIR WALTER RALEIGH<br />
+PERSECUTOR OF THE SPANIARDS<br />
+(1552-1618)</p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;When the sobbing sea is squally,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then,&mdash;look out for Walter Raleigh!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He&rsquo;s the fellow whom Queen Bess is said to love.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He&rsquo;s a reckless, handsome sailor,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With a &lsquo;Vandyke&rsquo; like a tailor,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He can coo fond words of loving like a dove.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Faith! I like this gallant rover,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who has ploughed the wild seas over,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who has passed the grim and wild equator&rsquo;s ring.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And I cheer, whene&rsquo;er I view him,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For&mdash;my Boy&mdash;off Spain I knew him<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When he trimmed the Spanish cruisers, like a King.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class="author">&mdash;<i>Chant of the Plymouth Dock-Hand.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="dropcap">B</span>OYS! You have all heard about the <em>Square
+Deal</em>. Well&mdash;Here is the story of a man who
+didn&rsquo;t get one.</p>
+
+<p>Walter Raleigh was a brave man; he was an able
+seafarer; his younger manhood was spent in the
+midst of the most brilliant Royal Court which England
+has known. He proved his courage and military prowess
+in more than one bitterly contested battle-field and
+naval conflict. His love of his own land and his hatred
+of his enemies was ardent.</p>
+
+<p>He was also a fellow of wit, and, as an author, took
+rank with the great literary lights of the Elizabethan
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg&nbsp;56]</a></span>
+Age. He was an adventurer, and, in middle life, as
+well as in old age, braved the great deep and perils of
+savage lands in the magnificent attempt to make discoveries
+and to settle English colonies in the New
+World. Chivalrous in actions and feeling; of handsome
+person; graceful manners and courtly address;
+it is no wonder that he had a host of enemies: those
+fellows who couldn&rsquo;t do anything worth while themselves,
+and wanted to &ldquo;pull the other fellow down.&rdquo;
+There are plenty of them around, to-day, doing the
+same thing in the same, old way.</p>
+
+<p>As an Englishman he loved England to such an
+extent, that&mdash;upon the return from one of his numerous
+voyages&mdash;he dropped upon one knee and kissed
+the sand.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;My men,&rdquo; said he to his followers, &ldquo;I love this
+land as nothing else on earth!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The hostility of his rivals subjected him to harsh
+ill treatment. It did not dampen his love for
+England.</p>
+
+<p>The silly caprices of Queen Elizabeth, who&mdash;like
+most women&mdash;was swayed, not by her reason, but by
+her sentiments, made him suffer imprisonment. Yet,
+it did not dampen his love for England.</p>
+
+<p>The terrible and bitter dislike of King James&mdash;who
+succeeded the Virgin Queen&mdash;finally led to his trial
+for treason; his execution; and his death.</p>
+
+<p>Yet, it did not dampen his love for England.</p>
+
+<p>If England can produce men of such a mold, nowadays,
+she will continue to be a mighty world power.</p>
+
+<p>Do you think that <em>you</em> could be as patriotic as Sir
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg&nbsp;57]</a></span>
+Walter Raleigh? Particularly if <em>you</em> were treated as
+<em>he</em> was treated? Think it over!</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<p>One day, the ancient palace of Greenwich, which
+stood on the banks of the Thames&mdash;a few miles below
+London&mdash;presented a lively and brilliant scene.
+Courtiers, arrayed in gorgeous colors and glittering
+ornaments, walked about, chattering gaily,&mdash;like a
+flock of sparrows. Fine, young cavaliers were there,
+attired in rich velvets, sparkling with gems, armed with
+gold-hilted swords. Grave statesmen wandered
+around,&mdash;with beards as white as their ruffles.
+Stately dames, with heavy and gaily trimmed trains,
+peered at the beautiful belles, and said:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;My, isn&rsquo;t she a fright!&rdquo; or</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Goodness, what <em>dreadful</em> manners the Duchess
+so-and-so has!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Just as they do to-day. Times do not change.</p>
+
+<p>Trumpets blared a fan-fa-rade and lines of soldiers
+gave forth inspiriting sounds, with many musical instruments.
+There was a stir and flutter in the crowd;
+and some one called out:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;She&rsquo;s coming! Hats off to the Queen!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>So all the men took off their hats,&mdash;for they were
+courtiers, and it was their business to do so, whenever
+Her Royal Highness came around. Many of them
+didn&rsquo;t like to do it but if they hadn&rsquo;t done so, some
+spy would have cried out &ldquo;Treason!&rdquo; And they
+would have been hustled off to the Tower. You <em>just
+bet</em> they took off their hats!</p>
+
+<p>Descending the broad flight of steps, with proud
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg&nbsp;58]</a></span>
+and majestic mien, the tall and slender figure of
+Elizabeth&mdash;the maiden Queen of England&mdash;was
+seen approaching.</p>
+
+<p>She was then in the mature ripeness of middle age,
+but she still preserved not a few remnants of the beauty
+of her youth. Her form was straight and well proportioned.
+Her large, blue eyes were yet bright and
+expressive; her complexion was still wonderfully fair
+and smooth. Her well arranged hair was luxuriant
+and was of a light red. A large, fan-like collar of
+richest lace rose from her slender neck, above her head
+behind; and her tresses were combed high from her
+forehead. Jewels blazed from her dress. Her attire
+was far more splendid than that of any of the ladies
+of her court.</p>
+
+<p>As it happened, a heavy shower had just passed over,
+and little puddles of water stood all around upon the
+gravelled paths. Bursting through the fast-vanishing
+clouds, the sun cast its rays upon the trees still dripping
+with glittering drops; and upon the smiling Queen,
+who&mdash;surrounded by a gay group of courtiers&mdash;set
+forth upon a promenade through the park. She chatted
+affably with all. They tried to make themselves as
+agreeable as possible, for he who was most agreeable
+received the best plums from the Royal Tree. Politics
+haven&rsquo;t changed any since that day.</p>
+
+<p>The Queen walked on, playing with a beautiful,
+white greyhound, and, pretty soon she came to a muddy
+spot in the path.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Zounds!&rdquo; said she (or it may have been something
+stronger, for historians say that she could &ldquo;swear
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg&nbsp;59]</a></span>
+valiantly&rdquo;). &ldquo;Zounds! Now I will spoil my pretty
+shoes!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And also your pretty feet,&rdquo; interjected a courtier.
+He received a smile for this compliment and the Queen
+mentally made a note of it,&mdash;for future use in the
+distribution of Court Favors.</p>
+
+<p>She hesitated, looked around aimlessly, and stood
+still.</p>
+
+<p>At this instant a young noble&mdash;six feet tall and
+elegantly attired&mdash;stepped forward; and, throwing
+aside his richly embroidered cloak, spread it over the
+muddy pool.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Prithee, pass onward!&rdquo; said he, bowing low.</p>
+
+<p>Elizabeth was delighted.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Good Walter Raleigh,&rdquo; said she, smiling. &ldquo;You
+are truly a gallant knight!&rdquo; And she tripped gaily
+across the embroidered mantlet. &ldquo;I will reward you
+right well for this!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>But the courtiers, the Ladies, and the Statesmen
+glanced with undisguised envy at the young gallant
+who had so readily pleased their Mistress; and they
+scowled at him as Elizabeth kept him at her side during
+the rest of her promenade. &ldquo;The Beggar&rsquo;s outdone
+us all!&rdquo; said one. &ldquo;Down with him!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>But they could not down Sir Walter just then.
+After awhile they had &ldquo;their innings.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Rough, vain, whimsical Queen Bess was fond of
+handsome, and especially of witty and eloquent young
+men. She grew more attached to Sir Walter Raleigh
+every day. He rapidly rose in power and influence,
+and, as a poet, became well known. His verses were
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg&nbsp;60]</a></span>
+read in the luxurious halls of the palace with exclamations
+of delight, while the tales of his military exploits
+were eagerly repeated from mouth to mouth; for
+Raleigh had fought valiantly in France and had helped
+to suppress an insurrection in Ireland.</p>
+
+<p>And still the jealous courtiers murmured among
+themselves.</p>
+
+<p>Raleigh was appointed &ldquo;Warden of the Stanneries,&rdquo;
+or mines, in Cornwall and Devonshire, from which
+he derived, each year, a large income. He was made
+Captain of the Queen&rsquo;s Guard. He was created Lord
+Lieutenant of Cornwall and Vice-Admiral of Devon.
+He received vast estates in Ireland and many privileges
+and licenses, so that he was fast becoming a rich man.
+He was splendid and extravagant in his dress. He
+grew arrogant. He had, in fact, &ldquo;too much Ego in his
+Cosmos.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>So, the jealous courtiers continued to murmur
+among themselves.</p>
+
+<p>Elizabeth was fickle as well as sentimental. Her
+fancy passed lightly from one gallant to another. For
+some time Leicester (who had once been her sole
+favorite, and who desired to regain his position) had
+been growing jealous of Raleigh&rsquo;s ascendency; and
+he had been delighted to see that Queen Bess had taken
+a violent fancy to the impetuous Earl of Essex. A
+quarrel took place between Raleigh and the Ruler
+of England. He was affronted before the whole
+court and retired to his chambers, overwhelmed with
+grief.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 483px;">
+<a name="walter_raleigh" id="walter_raleigh"></a>
+<img src="images/fpas08.jpg" width="483" height="600" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">SIR WALTER RALEIGH.</p>
+
+<p>And all the jealous courtiers punched each other
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg&nbsp;61]</a></span>
+beneath the ribs, and laughed &ldquo;Ha! Ha! Ha! What
+did we tell you?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>It took the &ldquo;Ego&rdquo; out of Raleigh&rsquo;s &ldquo;Cosmos.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>But the gallant courtier had a half-brother&mdash;Sir
+Humphrey Gilbert&mdash;who had just returned from a
+voyage around the world in the good ship <i>Golden
+Hind</i>.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Let&rsquo;s fit out a small fleet,&rdquo; said he to Raleigh,
+&ldquo;and establish an English colony in Newfoundland.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;m with you,&rdquo; cried Sir Walter. &ldquo;We&rsquo;ll found
+another England in far distant America! On with
+it!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Thus, an expedition of five ships sailed from Plymouth,
+in the early summer of 1583. Sir Humphrey
+boarded the <i>Squirrel</i>, and bade his kinsman an affectionate
+adieu.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You must remain behind,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;and regain
+our position at court!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That I will endeavor to do,&rdquo; answered Raleigh.
+&ldquo;Good luck and God speed.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The expedition was a failure from the start.
+Scarcely had the shallops gone to sea, than one of them&mdash;the
+<i>Raleigh</i>&mdash;deserted its companions and put
+back. The rest reached Newfoundland, but the men
+were lawless and insubordinate.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;This is the Deuce of a cold place for a colony,&rdquo;
+they said. &ldquo;Home to Merrie England!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Gilbert was forced to yield to their angry demands,
+and re-embarked.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t sail in that rattle-trap of a <i>Squirrel</i>,&rdquo; said
+his officers to him. &ldquo;She&rsquo;ll founder!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg&nbsp;62]</a></span>
+But Sir Humphrey had that obstinacy which characterized
+General Braddock.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No: I will not forsake the little company, going
+homeward,&rdquo; said he. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll stick to my ship.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He stuck&mdash;and&mdash;when they hailed him one stormy
+night, he said:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Be of good cheer, my friends: we are as near to
+Heaven by sea as by land!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>That night the <i>Squirrel</i> was sailing a little in advance
+of the other ships, and, as those on board the
+<i>Golden Hind</i> watched the frail barque, they saw her
+lurch, heave, and then sink from view. Thus the soul
+of brave Raleigh&rsquo;s kinsman found a watery grave. He
+had paid for his obstinacy with his life.</p>
+
+<p>Raleigh was overwhelmed with grief when he
+learned of the death of his heroic half-brother.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;ll yet found my Colony,&rdquo; said he. &ldquo;And I&rsquo;ll go
+myself.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>This pleased the jealous courtiers more than ever, for
+they would now have him out of the way for all time.</p>
+
+<p>With his ample wealth, the indefatigable adventurer
+found no difficulty in fitting out an expedition, and, in
+the year after the death of Sir Humphrey Gilbert, he
+sent forth two vessels to explore the coast of the Carolinas.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;m going to stay at home and face my enemies!&rdquo;
+said the gay blade. &ldquo;Again good luck and God
+Speed!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>They had a fortunate voyage, and, when they returned,
+the Captains told of the beautiful harbors, fine
+rivers, magnificent forests and abundance of game.
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg&nbsp;63]</a></span>
+The Queen was delighted, and at once named the fair
+country for herself, with characteristic egotism. That
+men might know that this fruitful land was explored
+in the time of the Virgin Queen, it was called &ldquo;Virginia.&rdquo;
+Raleigh was wild with delight.</p>
+
+<p>And the jealous courtiers looked dejected and sad.</p>
+
+<p>A fleet of seven vessels&mdash;with one hundred colonists&mdash;was
+now sent to Virginia, under the command of
+one Grenville, who was eager to become suddenly rich:
+a disease as common now as in those venturous days.
+No sooner had the people landed, than they began to
+treat the savages with such harshness and rapacity&mdash;that
+they had to gain their own food, as the natives
+would have nothing to do with them. Dissensions tore
+the little community into shreds. So they were only
+too glad to return with the gallant old sea-dog, Sir
+Francis Drake, when he happened that way, with a
+large amount of booty which he had just taken from
+the Spaniards in the southern seas.</p>
+
+<p>Another expedition was sent over by Raleigh; and
+yet another. They were failures. But there was one,
+single thing which was not a failure. This was the
+discovery of a herb called &ldquo;Yppowoc,&rdquo; or tobacco, the
+leaves of which&mdash;when dried&mdash;were smoked by the
+natives in long pipes.</p>
+
+<p>Curious Sir Walter had a jeweller in London make
+him a silver pipe, after the fashion of those used by the
+native Virginians. In this he began to smoke the
+tobacco, and soon grew to like it very much; so much,
+indeed, that he was scarcely ever without this comforter,
+when enjoying the quiet of his home.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg&nbsp;64]</a></span>
+One day he was sitting cosily by his fire with his
+Long Nine in his mouth, and the smoke was curling
+gracefully over his head. Just as he was puffing out
+a particularly thick cloud, one of his servants happened
+to enter the room with a tankard of ale, for the
+luncheon table.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ye Gods!&rdquo; cried he. &ldquo;My Master&rsquo;s on fire!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><em>Swash!!</em></p>
+
+<p>Over Sir Walter&rsquo;s head went the ale, and the frightened
+lackey dashed down the steps.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;H-e-l-p! H-e-l-p!&rdquo; cried he. &ldquo;My Master is
+burning up! H-e-l-p!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>But Sir Walter did not burn up this time. Instead
+he near split his gallant sides with laughing.</p>
+
+<p>Now, Boys, don&rsquo;t smile! &rsquo;Tis said that good old
+Queen Bess tried, herself, to smoke a Long Nine. But&mdash;hush&mdash;&ldquo;she
+became so dizzy and ill from the
+effects that she never ventured upon the experiment
+again!&rdquo; (Keep this quiet! Very quiet! Will you!)</p>
+
+<p>On one occasion she was watching Sir Walter
+blowing circles of smoke over his head, and said to
+him&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Zounds! (or something stronger) Sir Walter!
+You are a witty man; but I will wager that you cannot
+tell me the weight of the smoke which comes from
+your pipe!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I can, indeed,&rdquo; was the confident reply of the gallant
+courtier. &ldquo;Watch me closely!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>At once he took as much tobacco as would fill his
+pipe and exactly weighed it. Having then smoked it
+up, he&mdash;in like manner&mdash;weighed the ashes.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg&nbsp;65]</a></span>
+&ldquo;Now, Your Majesty,&rdquo; said he, smiling. &ldquo;The difference
+between these two weights is the weight of the
+smoke.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>And again Queen Bess remarked &ldquo;Zounds!&rdquo; (or
+Eftsoons!). At any rate, she paid the wager, for&mdash;with
+all her frailties&mdash;she was a Good Loser.</p>
+
+<p>Raleigh, in fact, shortly became reinstated in Royal
+favor, and, when he aided Drake and Hawkins&mdash;soon
+afterwards&mdash;in dispersing the Invincible Armada, he
+was again in the good graces of his sovereign.</p>
+
+<p>There was, however, a pretty, young Maid-of-Honor
+at court, called Elizabeth Throgmorton, and no sooner
+had the bright eyes of Sir Walter fallen upon her, than
+he fell in love. In paying court to this amiable lady he
+was compelled to use great caution and secrecy, for
+jealous Queen Bess watched him narrowly, and with
+suspicion. In spite of her preference for Essex, Elizabeth
+was quite unwilling that Raleigh&mdash;her less
+favored lover&mdash;should transfer his affections to another.
+So, in making love to Elizabeth Throgmorton,
+the gay courtier was compelled to use the utmost care.</p>
+
+<p>But Murder (or Love) will out!</p>
+
+<p>It chanced one day, that the Queen discovered what
+was going on between her Maid-of-Honor and the
+cavalier. Her rage knew no bounds. She berated
+Raleigh before her ladies, and forbade him to come to
+court. She fiercely commanded the Maid-of-Honor
+to remain a prisoner in her room, and, on no account
+to see Raleigh again. So the venturous Knight
+turned his attention once more to wild roving upon the
+sea.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg&nbsp;66]</a></span>
+Now the jealous courtiers fairly chuckled with glee.
+&ldquo;Ha! Ha! Ha!&rdquo; laughed they. &ldquo;Ho! Ho! Ho!
+He! He! He!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>But Sir Walter engaged very actively in fitting out
+some squadrons to attack the Spanish ships.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Egad! I hate a Spaniard!&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;They are
+my country&rsquo;s special enemies and I intend to do them
+all the harm that I can!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The Queen was glad enough to separate him from
+his lady love and not only consented to his project,
+but promised to aid him in it. Ere long fifteen vessels
+were anchored in the Thames&mdash;all ready to sail&mdash;but,
+before he set out, the gallant commander made up
+his mind that he would marry his beloved Maid-of-Honor.
+It was not difficult to find a clergyman who
+would splice him tighter than he ever spliced a rope
+aboard ship. The deed was done. He set sail. All
+was going propitiously.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;ll attack the Spanish ships in the harbor of
+Seville,&rdquo; said Raleigh. &ldquo;Then&mdash;off to the Spanish
+Main and sack the town of Panama.&rdquo; He laughed,&mdash;but
+what was that?</p>
+
+<p>Rapidly approaching from the coast of England
+came a swift pinnace. It gained upon the squadron
+in spite of the fact that all sail was hoisted, and, at last
+came near enough to give Raleigh a signal to &ldquo;Heave
+to.&rdquo; In a few moments her commander climbed
+aboard.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The Queen has changed her mind about your expedition,&rdquo;
+said he. &ldquo;She has sent me&mdash;Sir Martin
+Frobisher&mdash;to tell you to come home.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg&nbsp;67]</a></span>
+Raleigh said things which made the air as blue as the
+sea, but he put back&mdash;for he could not disobey the
+Royal command. He was soon at court.</p>
+
+<p>The Queen was furious with anger.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You have disobeyed my commands,&rdquo; said she. &ldquo;I
+find you have secretly married my Maid-of-Honor.
+To the Tower with you! To the dungeons of the
+Tower!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>And all the jealous courtiers were so happy that
+they danced a can-can in the ante chamber.</p>
+
+<p>What do you think of this? Thrown into prison
+because he loved a Maid and married her! Nowadays
+&ldquo;all the World loves a Lover.&rdquo; In those times all
+the world <em>might</em> have &ldquo;loved a Lover&rdquo; except Queen
+Bess,&mdash;and a number of courtiers hanging around
+within easy call: <em>They</em> kicked a Lover. And then they
+all got together and said:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Fine! Fine! Now we&rsquo;ve got him where he ought
+to be. Ha! Ha! Ha! Ho! Ho! Ho!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>But women relent; that is one of their chief characteristics.
+Queen Bess softened, grew lukewarm,
+finally became molten.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Sir Walter Raleigh can go free,&rdquo; said she.</p>
+
+<p>The gallant courtier returned to his country estate,
+where&mdash;with his wife and children he enjoyed the
+luxuries and comforts of country life. And the jealous
+courtiers began to look strangely sober.</p>
+
+<p>Still the sea called. The sea sang its old song, and,
+fired with the spirit of adventure, Sir Walter decided
+upon another expedition: this time to the coast of
+Guiana, in South America, where, it was said, &ldquo;billets
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg&nbsp;68]</a></span>
+of gold lay about in heaps, as if they were logs of
+wood marked out to burn.&rdquo; With a large fleet at his
+command he soon started upon this expedition for
+plunder and for fame. This time no Sir Martin Frobisher
+sailed after him to bring him back to a dungeon
+in the Tower and he was able to reach his destination.</p>
+
+<p>The expedition was a howling success. Whenever
+and wherever Sir Walter could inflict injury on the
+Spaniards, whom he so bitterly detested, he did so with
+eagerness. A Spanish ship was soon seen, chased,
+and&mdash;after a brief, hot fight&mdash;surrendered and was
+boarded.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Egad!&rdquo; cried Raleigh. &ldquo;Here&rsquo;s luck, for the
+cargo&rsquo;s of fire arms. I&rsquo;ll stow them away in my own
+vessel and let the captive go!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Proceeding on his voyage, he not long afterwards
+encountered and captured another prize; a Flemish
+ship sailing homeward with a cargo of fine wine.
+Twenty hogsheads were transferred to the hold of
+Raleigh&rsquo;s ship and the captured craft was allowed to
+sail on,&mdash;empty.</p>
+
+<p>Things continued to go well. The Island of Trinidad
+(off Venezuela) was reached at last. The natives
+were friendly and told of vast deposits of gold far up
+the river Orinoco. &ldquo;But would Raleigh not please
+besiege the Spanish town of St. Joseph?&rdquo; said they,
+&ldquo;and rescue some of their chiefs whom the Spaniards
+held prisoners&mdash;in chains.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I always strike a Spaniard when I can,&rdquo; said
+Raleigh. &ldquo;On, men, we&rsquo;ll sack this proud city!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>St. Joseph speedily fell into his hands. The chiefs
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg&nbsp;69]</a></span>
+were released. They were so gratified, that they
+paddled him far up the river, where they found glittering
+gold, which they tore out of rocks with their
+daggers. The Englishmen were delighted, and, collecting
+a mass of nuggets to show to those at home,
+they put back to the ships, set sail, and were soon in
+England again.</p>
+
+<p>The people were astonished at this exploit, but the
+jealous courtiers did all they could to deprive Raleigh
+of the renown which was justly his due.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What this fellow has told is a lie,&rdquo; whispered they
+into the ears of good Queen Bess. &ldquo;There is no
+such place as Guiana. Raleigh has been down upon
+the coast of Spain and hidden himself. He has not
+crossed the Atlantic at all.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Which proves that no one can ever do anything
+adventurous without stirring up the hammers of the
+Envious: the Little Men. Is it not so to-day? Look
+around! You can hear the carping critic at any time
+that you may wish! <em>Do</em> something <em>big</em>, sometime.
+Then put your ear to the ground and listen!</p>
+
+<p>But the sea called for the fifth time. A vast English
+fleet was hurled against the Spanish at Cadiz,&mdash;a
+great English fleet, accompanied by an army. England
+was bound to get even with the Spaniards for
+daring to launch the supposedly invincible Armada
+against them&mdash;and Sir Walter eagerly sailed for the
+coast of Spain.</p>
+
+<p>The harbor of Cadiz was seen to be fairly jammed
+full of stately galleons and men-of-war. Arranged in
+compact rows, close to shore, just below the towering
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg&nbsp;70]</a></span>
+and frowning castle of Cadiz; they were protected,
+on either side, by fortresses, whence heavy guns peeped
+forth to defend them. There were nearly sixty large
+vessels in all, four of which were galleons, and twenty
+of which were galleys: well-manned and well-armed
+with small cannon. There were many more ships than
+in the attacking fleet.</p>
+
+<p>It was the evening of June the 20th, 1596. The
+British vessels rapidly sailed into the harbor, Raleigh
+leading, in the flagship, the <i>Water Sprite</i>; behind him
+the <i>Mary Rose</i>, commanded by his cousin, Sir George
+Carew; and the <i>Rainbow</i> under Sir Francis Vere.
+All were eager for the fray, and it was not long before
+their approach was observed by the Spanish fleet. Instantly
+a huge galleon, the <i>Saint Philip</i>&mdash;the largest
+in the Spanish Navy&mdash;swung out of her position, followed
+by the <i>Saint Andrew</i>, second only to her in size.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;They&rsquo;re coming to meet me!&rdquo; cried Raleigh&mdash;joyously.</p>
+
+<p>Instead of that, the galleons sailed for a narrow
+strait in the harbor&mdash;followed by the rest of the
+Spanish fleet&mdash;and cast anchor just under the stout
+fortress of Puntal. They arranged themselves in close
+array and awaited the attack of the English.</p>
+
+<p>The English fleet anchored, but at daybreak, the
+impetuous Raleigh bore down upon the formidable
+mass of hulking galleons. The sun rays streamed
+over the old, Spanish town, gilding the pinnaces and
+spires of the churches, shining brightly upon the flapping
+pennons of Britisher and Don. The white sails
+flapped, spars creaked and groaned, the sailors cheered,
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg&nbsp;71]</a></span>
+and&mdash;in a moment&mdash;the cannon began to bark, like
+wolf hounds. The fight had begun.</p>
+
+<p>Raleigh was the incarnation of battle. Passing
+rapidly from point to point upon the deck of his vessel,
+he encouraged and urged on his men, exposed himself
+as freely as the rest; and whenever a man faltered,
+there he appeared to urge the faint heart on with words
+of inspiration and hope.</p>
+
+<p><em>Roar! Roar! Roar! Zoom! Zoom! Crash!</em></p>
+
+<p>The arquebusses spittled and spat; cannon growled;
+and iron crashed into solid oak planking.</p>
+
+<p>The orders were not to board until the fly-boats
+(long, flat-bottomed vessels with high sterns) came
+up, which were manned by Dutch allies. For three
+hours the battle raged, but the fly-boats did not arrive.
+The Earl of Essex&mdash;the commander of this expedition&mdash;now
+ordered his flagship to pass through the
+advance line of vessels, and make the way to the front.
+Raleigh was chafing with rage because the fly-boats
+did not come, yet, in spite of the danger of being shot,
+he jumped into a light skiff, and was rowed over to
+the galleon of Essex.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;ll board the <i>Saint Philip</i>,&rdquo; cried he, &ldquo;if the fly-boats
+do not soon arrive. Even though it be against
+the orders of the Admiral. For it is the same loss to
+burn, or to sink, and I must soon endure one or the
+other.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Go ahead!&rdquo; yelled Essex, over the bow. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll
+second you, upon my honor!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Raleigh hastened with all speed to the deck of the
+<i>Water Sprite</i>, where his men were pounding away at
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg&nbsp;72]</a></span>
+the Spanish galleons with all their might and main.
+No sooner had he mounted the poop, than he saw, with
+anger, that two vessels of his own squadron had forced
+themselves into a position in front of his own; for
+their commanders wanted to win first honors in this
+battle at sea.</p>
+
+<p>Raleigh, himself, wished to have the honor, just like
+other sea captains in later battles. But,&mdash;that&rsquo;s another
+story.</p>
+
+<p>So, the gallant seaman ran the <i>Water Sprite</i> between
+the two other ships and took up his position as leader.
+Sir Francis Vere of the <i>Rainbow</i> was resolved to keep
+in front as well as Raleigh.</p>
+
+<p>As the <i>Water Sprite</i> passed him he slyly cast a rope
+to a sailor, who tied it to her stern, and his own vessel
+thus kept abreast of the lumbering galley of his
+chief. &ldquo;But,&rdquo; writes Sir Walter, &ldquo;some of my company
+advising me thereof, I caused the rope to be cast
+off, and so Vere fell back in his place, where I guarded
+him&mdash;all but his very prow&mdash;from the sight of the
+enemy. I was very sure that none would outstart me
+again for that day.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The guns of the fort appeared to be silent and the
+big galleons lay apparently helpless in the face of the
+valiant enemy. Raleigh moved on, but, as he was
+about to clutch his splendid prize, it escaped him, for
+the Spaniards&mdash;finding that they would be captured&mdash;made
+haste to run the <i>Saint Philip</i>, and several of
+her sister ships, aground on the sand.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Blow them up!&rdquo; came the order.</p>
+
+<p>The Spanish sailors and soldiers came tumbling out
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg&nbsp;73]</a></span>
+of the ships into the sea in heaps&mdash;&ldquo;as thick as if
+coals had been poured out of a sack into many pots at
+once.&rdquo; Then a terrific roar boomed forth. The air
+was filled with flying splinters, canvas, iron, and lead.
+The portions of the galleons were now floating upon
+the waves and the water was alive with the struggling
+bodies of the Spaniards as they desperately endeavored
+to save themselves.</p>
+
+<p>The spectacle was lamentable. Many drowned themselves.
+Many, half burned, leaped into the water;
+while others hung by the ropes&rsquo; ends; by the ships&rsquo;
+sides; under the sea, even to their lips. &ldquo;If any man
+had a desire to see Hell, itself,&rdquo; wrote Sir Walter, &ldquo;it
+was there most lively figured!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah!</p>
+
+<p>The English sailors were cheering, for victory was
+theirs, and of all the gallant warriors of that day,
+Raleigh had been the most persistently daring and
+heroic.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The <i>Saint Andrew</i>&rsquo;s still afloat, good Sire!&rdquo; cried
+one of his sailors at this moment.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Then we&rsquo;ll take her!&rdquo; cried Raleigh.</p>
+
+<p>She was boarded and captured with little difficulty,
+while yet another galleon&mdash;the <i>Saint Matthew</i>&mdash;fell
+into his hands. These were the only vessels of all that
+proud Spanish fleet which had escaped the flames.</p>
+
+<p>Raleigh, himself, had been severely wounded in the
+leg, but he refused to release the command of his ship.
+He gave orders that all lives should be spared, and
+although these mandates were rigidly obeyed by the
+English soldiers, the Dutch cruelly slaughtered many
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg&nbsp;74]</a></span>
+of their hapless prisoners, for their hatred of the
+Spaniards was bitter and savage.</p>
+
+<p>Cadiz had not yet fallen and Raleigh was determined
+to go on shore with the troops and witness the taking
+of the town, in spite of his wound. A litter was prepared
+for him&mdash;he was lowered into one of the boats&mdash;rowed
+ashore, carried upon the shoulders of some of
+his faithful soldiers, and witnessed the furious struggle
+which now ensued. Cadiz fell. Although the lives
+of the people were spared; the castle, fortifications and
+the greater part of the town itself, were burned and
+demolished. If you go there, to-day, you will still
+find the marks of this great and stirring strife.</p>
+
+<p>There was nothing left but to put the Spanish prisoners
+aboard the galleons, collect the plunder, and set
+sail for England. When the fleet again swung into the
+little harbor of Plymouth it was received by the people
+with wildest enthusiasm and delight. All England
+rang with the praise of the valor and courage of her
+heroes, for Spain had been stripped of her ability to
+injure her English rival and England&rsquo;s power was
+supreme upon the sea. Raleigh and his comrades had
+done this,&mdash;and the descendants of Raleigh and his
+comrades have continued to uphold the supremacy.
+Hurrah for Raleigh!</p>
+
+<p>But how about those jealous courtiers? They were
+still around&mdash;Oh, yes!&mdash;And Raleigh was greeted
+at court as coldly as when he had departed with the
+fleet. He had been deprived of his office of Captain
+of the Queen&rsquo;s Guard, and even his bravery at Cadiz
+did not win this back for him. Nor did he receive any
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg&nbsp;75]</a></span>
+of the spoil which had been won by himself and his
+comrades. Even Queen Bess was angry because her
+share of the booty taken from Cadiz was not as great
+as she had hoped for.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What the Generals have got,&rdquo; wrote Sir Walter,
+&ldquo;I know least. For my own part, I have got a game
+leg, and am deformed. I have received many good
+words and exceedingly kind and regardful usage; but
+I have possession of naught but poverty and pain.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Not long afterwards the old Queen was persuaded
+to write Sir Walter to come to court, and thus he
+and his wife, whom Elizabeth had also forgiven, appeared
+daily in the brilliant throng which clustered in
+the halls and corridors of the Royal Palace. He was
+restored to his old office of Captain of the Queen&rsquo;s
+Guard and rode forth again in all the splendor of his
+uniform, at the side of the sovereign.</p>
+
+<p>The rest of Sir Walter&rsquo;s life can be briefly narrated.
+With Essex he took part in a successful expedition to
+the Azores, where they captured many ships, and with
+him divided much booty and fame. But Essex became
+too ambitious and started a conspiracy to place himself
+upon the throne of England. It was a failure. He
+was captured by the Queen&rsquo;s soldiers&mdash;a part under
+Sir Walter himself&mdash;was tried, and executed for High
+Treason.</p>
+
+<p>Queen Bess soon died and was succeeded by a man
+who disliked Sir Walter from the start. This was
+James the First of Scotland&mdash;a &ldquo;dour&rdquo; fellow&mdash;who
+charged the valorous knight with treason, for it
+was alleged that he had conspired, with Lord Cobham,
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg&nbsp;76]</a></span>
+to place the youthful Arabella Stuart upon the throne.
+He was tried, convicted, and thrown into the Tower,
+where he lived for twelve long, tedious years. Think
+of it! A fellow of his venturesome and restless spirit
+forced to remain in a dungeon-keep for such a time!
+Weep for brave Sir Walter! This was fine treatment
+for a patriot!</p>
+
+<p>But the jealous courtiers did not weep. Oh no!
+<em>They</em> laughed.</p>
+
+<p>When gallant Sir Walter was thrown into the Tower
+(for he had not plotted against the King) he was a
+hale and stalwart cavalier of fifty-two. He was released&mdash;after
+twelve years&mdash;when his hair and beard
+were grizzled, his face worn and wrinkled, his body
+somewhat bent, and his features grave and sorrowful.
+With what tearful joy he clasped to his breast his ever
+faithful wife and his two sons! At sixty-four his
+brave spirit was still unshaken; his ardent and restless
+ambition was as keen as ever.</p>
+
+<p>He went forth with the sentence of death still hanging
+over his head; for King James, although giving
+a grudging consent to his release, had refused to pardon
+him. And he went forth with the understanding
+that he should lead an expedition to the coast of Guiana
+in South America; there to attack the Spaniards and
+gain plunder, gold, and jewels. If successful he was
+to go free. If non-successful, he was to suffer punishment&mdash;perhaps
+death!</p>
+
+<p>The expedition was a failure. The Spaniards and
+natives were well aware of his coming, for &rsquo;tis said that
+King James, himself, sent them news of the expedition.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg&nbsp;77]</a></span>
+&ldquo;If I go home it&rsquo;s off with my head,&rdquo; said Sir Walter.
+&ldquo;But I&rsquo;ll risk it.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Don&rsquo;t you think if you had been Sir Walter, instead
+of sailing to England where you knew that a headsman&rsquo;s
+axe awaited you, you would have coasted by
+the shores of the Chesapeake Bay and dropped off
+quietly where is the home of the canvas-back and the
+terrapin! Just stepped into one of the jolly-boats and
+peacefully drifted ashore on a dark night?</p>
+
+<p>I think that you would have been strongly inclined
+to do so,&mdash;but <em>you</em> are not Sir Walter Raleigh. <em>He</em>
+was a lion-hearted adventurer.</p>
+
+<p>Opportunity after opportunity came to him to escape
+to the shores of France. He let them go by, but, when
+he found that his enemies demanded his trial for
+treason, he thought it high time to get away. He
+learned that a French envoy had arranged to get him to
+France and had a barque for this purpose. A certain
+Captain King had found a small boat commanded by
+one of Sir Walter&rsquo;s old boatmen, which lay at Tilbury
+awaiting his orders. It was arranged by Raleigh&rsquo;s
+guard&mdash;one Stukeley&mdash;that he should be rowed to
+the little lugger on the evening of Sunday, August the
+9th, 1618. The latter was sent up the Thames river
+to Gravesend.</p>
+
+<p>At the hour designated, Raleigh, Captain King,
+Stukeley and his son Hart, with a page, jumped into
+two small wherries in order to row to the lugger. They
+had just shoved off, when keen Sir Walter saw another
+boat push out from the bank and follow them.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;How&rsquo;s this?&rdquo; said he to Stukeley.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg&nbsp;78]</a></span>
+But silent Stukeley did not answer.</p>
+
+<p>The boat rowed fast, but the pursuing craft moved
+with equal speed. The tide was singing and gurgling
+in a mad flow, and it became doubtful whether the
+wherries could reach Gravesend under the protection
+of darkness, for day was breaking, and the whirling
+water made progress very slow.</p>
+
+<p>At last&mdash;seeing that they could not get away&mdash;the
+shallops were forced to turn about and retrace
+their passage. The pursuing boat swung, also&mdash;like
+a shadow of the first. Sir Walter&rsquo;s heart beat tumultuously.</p>
+
+<p>When the fugitives reached Greenwich&mdash;Stukeley
+stood up and appeared in his true colors. Laying a
+hand upon the shoulder of faithful Captain King, he
+cried&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I arrest you in the name of our Monarch, James
+First!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Raleigh looked around in anger and dismay.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Stukeley,&rdquo; he said with heat, &ldquo;you are a trait&rsquo;rous
+cur. These actions will not turn out to your credit!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>But the knave laughed derisively,&mdash;so derisively
+that the common people dubbed him &ldquo;Sir Judas
+Stukeley.&rdquo; And it well suited him. Didn&rsquo;t it?</p>
+
+<p>The boatmen rowed directly to the Tower and the
+boat which had pursued the wherries&mdash;which contained
+a courtier named Herbert (to whom Stukeley
+had betrayed the projected escape)&mdash;followed them
+close. The soldiers in her (for they had been well
+hidden) escorted the dejected Sir Walter to the grim
+walls of the dungeon.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg&nbsp;79]</a></span>
+There was now no hope for that gallant adventurer:
+the man had brought honor and renown to England.
+He was tried for Treason: condemned: executed.</p>
+
+<p>As he stood waiting for the axe to fall, he said:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I have many sins for which to beseech God&rsquo;s
+pardon. For a long time my course was a course of
+vanity. I have been a seafaring man, a soldier, and
+a courtier; and, in the temptations of the least of
+these there is enough to overthrow a good mind and
+a good man. I die in the faith professed by the Church
+of England. I hope to be saved, and to have my sins
+washed away by the precious blood and merits of our
+Saviour, Jesus Christ.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>A quick shudder ran through the multitude when
+Sir Walter had ceased to live, and many groaned aloud
+at the horrible sight. One stout yeoman cried out
+angrily, &ldquo;We have not had such another head to be
+cut off.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The crowd separated slowly, muttering and crying
+out against the enemies of the valiant man; while his
+friends, who were present, parted with tears coursing
+down their cheeks.</p>
+
+<p>And the jealous courtiers said: &ldquo;Magnificent!&rdquo; It
+was now their turn to shout. And they did it, too.</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<p>So, you see, Sir Walter Raleigh&rsquo;s patriotism was
+paid for by death. The trouble with him was, he
+was too much of a man.</p>
+
+<p><em>Nowadays</em>&mdash;when a soldier or sailor does something
+for England&mdash;they give him a Hip! Hip!
+Hurray!</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg&nbsp;80]</a></span>
+He is appreciated. He is presented with titles,
+honors, and a warm reception.</p>
+
+<p><em>Then</em>, when a man did something for England, those
+in power gave him the cold shoulder; the icy stare.</p>
+
+<p>That&rsquo;s the reason why England&rsquo;s sons will do something
+for her now. If she had kept treating them as
+she did Sir Walter Raleigh she wouldn&rsquo;t have many
+of them around when it came to a fight. <em>And, some
+day, she&rsquo;ll need them all!</em></p>
+
+<p>So when a fellow does something really great, don&rsquo;t
+greet him with frozen silence. <em>Cheer! He needs it!
+Besides,&mdash;it won&rsquo;t hurt you!</em></p>
+
+<p><em>Give a tiger and three times three!</em></p>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<h2>THE VANISHED SAILORS</h2>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Say, sailors, what&rsquo;s happened to young Bill Jones?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Jones of Yarmouth; the bright-cheeked boy?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Jones who could handle a boat like a man,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Jones, who would grapple a smack like a toy?<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;<i>Fell o&rsquo;er the sea-end with Raleigh. Ahoy!</i>&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Well, sea-dogs, where&rsquo;s Thompson of Yarmouthport dock?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The chap who could outwit old Hawkins, they say,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The man with th&rsquo; knowledge of charts and of reefs,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There wasn&rsquo;t his equal from Prawle to Torquay.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;<i>Fell o&rsquo;er the sea-end with Raleigh, to-day!</i>&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Where&rsquo;s Rixey of Hampton; Smith of Rexhill?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who&rsquo;d coasted and traded from London to Ryde,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Huggins and Muggins, all seamen of worth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who could jibe and could sail, sir, when combers were wide?<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;<i>Fell o&rsquo;er the sea-end with Raleigh. Last tide!</i>&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg&nbsp;81]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">Well, seamen, when that day shall come near,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When the salt sea is moved from its bed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Some will there be, who can give us the news,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of all that brave band, whom Adventure has led<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;<i>Fall o&rsquo;er the sea-end with Raleigh, &rsquo;tis said!</i>&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg&nbsp;82]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;Such is the man,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whom neither shape nor danger can dismay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor thought of tender happiness betray;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who, not content that worth stands fast,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Looks forward, persevering to the last,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From good to better, daily self-surpassed.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class="author">&mdash;<i>Ballads of the Day.</i></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<a name="Page_83" id="Page_83"><!-- unnumbered title page --></a>
+<p><span class='pagenum'></span></p>
+
+<h2>JEAN BART<br />
+<br />
+THE SCOURGE OF THE DUTCH<br />
+<br />
+(1650-1702)</h2>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg&nbsp;84]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>As long as selfishness remains a Human Passion,&mdash;Warfare
+will continue.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg&nbsp;85]</a></span></p>
+
+<p class="center padtop">JEAN BART<br />
+THE SCOURGE OF THE DUTCH<br />
+(1650-1702)</p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;&lsquo;What means that canvas, Skipper? It&rsquo;s bearing down to port,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And it drives a blackish barquentine, with every topsail taut,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There&rsquo;re guns upon her poop deck. There&rsquo;re cannon near her bow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the bugler&rsquo;s bloomin&rsquo; clarion, it shrills a how-de-row?&rsquo;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The skipper took a peep at her, his face turned ashen pale,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His jaw began to tremble, and his knees began to fail,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As the flag of France swung to the breeze and fluttered without check,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&lsquo;Jean Bart!&rsquo; he gurgled weakly, and fainted on the deck.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class="author">&mdash;<i>Rhymes of The Dutch Channel Fleet.</i>&mdash;1676.</p>
+
+<p><span class="dropcap">T</span>HE good ship <i>Cochon Gras</i> boiled along off the
+coast of Normandy under a full spread of
+canvas, for the breeze was light, and was from
+the southward. A boy of sixteen stood at the helm.
+He was well bronzed by exposure to the elements;
+was sturdy and strong. His dark hair waved luxuriantly
+about a face in which keenness and shrewdness
+were easily to be seen. His name was Jean Bart and
+he had been born at Dunkirk in France.</p>
+
+<p>The Captain of the <i>Cochon Gras</i> strode about upon
+the deck below. He was in an evil mood and his
+voice showed his ill feeling.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Put the helm over!&rdquo; he shouted to the steersman.
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg&nbsp;86]</a></span>
+&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t you see that your sails aren&rsquo;t half full! Boy,
+will you never learn!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Jean Bart obeyed.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Very good, my Captain!&rdquo; said he. &ldquo;Very good,
+my Monsieur Valbu&eacute;.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>And, at this, the captain scowled, for he was in a
+beastly temper.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I am glad that you act quickly,&rdquo; said he. &ldquo;You
+know nothing. By acting quickly you will learn a
+thing or two. <em>Tiens!</em> Be speedy! Be very quick!
+Be like the Bishop of Ol&eacute;ron!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He smiled and lurched against the rail.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ah, this good prelate was a true seaman,&rdquo; said
+he. &ldquo;He knew the tides like a mackerel. He knew as
+much as I do, myself, and that is saying a good deal.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Jean Bart chuckled at the vanity of Monsieur
+Valbu&eacute;.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The good Bishop was standing on the rocks upon
+a stormy evening,&rdquo; continued the captain, &ldquo;when
+he saw some fisher boats making for the harbor. One
+of them was bearing too close to the shore. One of
+them was going to go upon the rocks. One of them
+was steered by a poor fellow who knew neither the
+reefs nor the shoals. &lsquo;Voil&agrave;!&rsquo; cried the good bishop.
+&lsquo;Voil&agrave;! I will save this dull-witted sailor.&rsquo; And,
+forthwith, what do you think that he did,&mdash;?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>A small knot of seamen had, by this time, collected
+around the talkative captain. They all shook their
+heads.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 413px;">
+<a name="jean_bart" id="jean_bart"></a>
+<img src="images/fpas09.jpg" width="413" height="600" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">JEAN BART.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Fools,&rdquo; cried Captain Valbu&eacute;. &ldquo;Fools! Why,
+he strode into the sea, of course. Being a pure man
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg&nbsp;87]</a></span>
+of God and a member of the true church, he walked
+upon the surface of the water. The boat coming in
+was manned by Huguenots, by unbelievers, mark
+you! By fellows who had neither the sense nor the
+grace to be members of the true church. <em>They</em> could
+not walk upon the water. Oh! No! But the good
+Bishop <em>he</em> walked as easily as a stormy petrel, for he
+was a man of God. And, as he reached the boat he
+made the sign of the cross, saying, &lsquo;Beware of the
+rocks which you sail down upon! Bear off to the
+left! When you see the red buoy, bear to the right,
+and then come home by keeping your bow pointed for
+the spire of the big church!&rsquo; And they did so. They
+were saved by the good Bishop, whom I know well.
+As for me. I would have let the foolish Huguenots
+get their just deserts. It would have been one heretic
+less and good riddance.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>At this one of the seamen was plainly angered.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Piff!&rdquo; said he. &ldquo;Piff!&rdquo; That was all. But
+Monsieur Valbu&eacute; had noticed it and Monsieur Valbu&eacute;
+grew angry in a moment. Seizing a half-empty cider
+mug, from which he had been drinking, he hurled it
+at the head of the fellow who had made the remark.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You dog of a Huguenot!&rdquo; he roared.</p>
+
+<p>The seaman dodged, and the cider mug spun into
+the planks of a jolly boat. Then he stepped forward
+and said,</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Captain Valbu&eacute;, the Laws of Ol&eacute;ron, under which
+we sail, say that you cannot and must not strike a
+seaman with any missile. I, Lanoix, will strike back
+if you hit me.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg&nbsp;88]</a></span>
+But Monsieur Valbu&eacute; was like a bubbling tea-pot.
+Seizing a hand-spike, he shot it out at the man who
+knew the law.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The Laws of Ol&eacute;ron allow me just one blow,&rdquo;
+blubbered Captain Valbu&eacute;. &ldquo;Just as the laws of
+England allow each dog one bite.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>As luck would have it, he missed his shot.</p>
+
+<p>Lanoix leaped over the iron rail which separated
+the forecastle from the after part of the vessel. Then
+he turned around.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Follow me here, you coward!&rdquo; he shouted to the
+captain, &ldquo;and I will have the right to crack you
+through the middle. Consult the Laws of Ol&eacute;ron under
+which we sail and see if they do not back me up!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The laws be blowed!&rdquo; yelled Monsieur Valbu&eacute;,
+now beside himself with rage. And, leaping across
+the rail he struck the Huguenot two sturdy blows in
+the face.</p>
+
+<p>Jean Bart, meanwhile, steered the ship: looked on;
+and said nothing.</p>
+
+<p>R-i-i-p! There was a flash, a blow, and a cry of
+pain. A large, keen knife was clenched in the strong
+right hand of Lanoix, and the captain was running
+red, with a deep gash in his shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Down with the Mutineer! Down with the dog!&rdquo;
+came from the throats of the members of the crew
+who had clustered about the two enraged men, smiling
+at the little affair.</p>
+
+<p>With a rush they were upon the Huguenot; had
+forced him to the deck; and wrested the knife from
+his hand. But, before it was wrenched from his fist,
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg&nbsp;89]</a></span>
+the blade had pierced the body of a seaman and had
+felled him to the boarding.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Bring up the Laws of Ol&eacute;ron,&rdquo; cried Captain
+Valbu&eacute;, when the Huguenot had been secured.
+&ldquo;Bring up the Laws of Ol&eacute;ron from my cabin, and
+let us see whether or no I was right, when I struck
+this prating Lanoix!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The cabin-boy dove below and was soon again upon
+the deck.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The law shall be read,&rdquo; cried the captain. &ldquo;Out
+with it!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Now, aboard the vessel was one Antoine Sauret&mdash;a
+good, old boatswain&mdash;a friend of the father of
+Jean Bart, and a courageous man.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The law shows you to be in the wrong,&rdquo; said he.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; cried Jean Bart from the wheel, which he
+had not left. &ldquo;You were, and are, in the wrong.&rdquo;
+Monsieur Valbu&eacute; glowered at them.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I am the law,&rdquo; said he. &ldquo;Is this not my vessel?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But the right is on his side,&rdquo; interrupted the good
+Antoine Sauret.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You wait and see what I do to this cur of a
+Huguenot,&rdquo; snarled Captain Valbu&eacute;. &ldquo;And no more
+talk from either you or Jean Bart. Hear! Six out
+of eight of the crew agree that this Lanoix has
+wounded me and has slain one of his ship-mates&mdash;without
+proper provocation&mdash;I will now fix him.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>And this he did in the most approved manner.</p>
+
+<p>Lashing his victim&rsquo;s arm to a sharp sword tied to
+the windlass, he knocked the unfortunate Lanoix
+upon the deck with a hand-spike. Then, tying him&mdash;still
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg&nbsp;90]</a></span>
+alive&mdash;to the dead sailor whom the Huguenot
+had killed when the crew rushed upon him,&mdash;he cried
+out:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Throw &rsquo;em both to the fishes!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>They were seized.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;One! Two! Three! Heave Away!&rdquo; sounded
+from the throats of the Frenchmen.</p>
+
+<p>Lanoix and the dead sailor spun out above the blue
+water. A splash. A gurgle of white foam, and the
+Atlantic closed above them.</p>
+
+<p>Seamen&mdash;you witness&mdash;were brutes, in these
+merry days of privateering. But hear the sequel of
+the gruesome story!</p>
+
+<p>Jean Bart and the good boatswain Sauret had, from
+that moment, no high opinion of the Laws of Ol&eacute;ron.
+So, when the vessel touched at Calais, upon the coast
+of France, they walked up to the captain, saying:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Sir. We wish to leave you! We cannot sail any
+longer beneath your orders.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The brutal Valbu&eacute; scowled.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Go!&rdquo; said he. &ldquo;And good riddance.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>But when the circumstances of the death of the two
+men were reported to the authorities, the captain was
+tried.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The Law of Ol&eacute;ron,&rdquo; said the Judge to him,
+&ldquo;acquits you, for the Huguenot sailor was in the
+wrong to draw his knife, when you struck him only
+with your fists. But it is a bad law and must be
+changed.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Here he turned to young Jean Bart and the good
+Sauret.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg&nbsp;91]</a></span>
+&ldquo;As for you two,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;I most highly commend
+you for protesting against the brutality of this
+captain. Would that all the sailors of France were
+as good as both of you. If they were, there would
+be less trouble aboard ship. Again I commend you!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>So&mdash;feeling very happy, indeed&mdash;young Jean
+Bart went out into the street. Though only sixteen
+he had been right in his attempt to save the life of
+poor Lanoix. Good for young Bart! Hats off to
+the sailor lad of sixteen who was more merciful than
+the cruel Law of Ol&eacute;ron! And this brutal set of rules
+was soon changed to the Maritime Code of France,
+which gave seamen some right to defend themselves
+against the attacks of rough and overbearing captains.
+Thus Jean Bart had started the ball rolling in the right
+direction. Again hats off to the doughty, young
+Frenchman!</p>
+
+<p>Not long after this event the Dutch fell out with
+the English and began a smart little war. Jean Bart
+hastened to the scene of action, enrolled in the Dutch
+cause, and fought with them for five full years. Then
+the Dutch began to make war upon the French (in
+1672), but this was too much for the patriotic sentiments
+of the youthful volunteer.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ah!&rdquo; said he. &ldquo;When my own people are attacked,
+I must hasten to their assistance. The Dutch
+have paid me well &rsquo;tis true, but now I scorn their gold.
+Vive la France!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>So saying, he returned to Dunkirk, speedily found
+employment, and went to sea again&mdash;not in a man-of-war,
+but in a privateer. He was now four-and-twenty;
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg&nbsp;92]</a></span>
+was wiry, tough, and well used to battling
+both with men and with the elements. The boat he
+sailed in mounted only two guns and had a crew of
+thirty-six. She was named after a famous personage
+of Biblical history: <i>King David</i>, and she conducted
+herself as skilfully as did that ancient monarch, for
+was not Jean Bart at the helm?</p>
+
+<p>Cruising out upon the treacherous waters of the
+North Sea, it was not long before a vessel was sighted
+that was of such small tonnage that Bart was not
+afraid to give chase. He slapped on all canvas, put
+his helm hard over, and steered for the dancing bit of
+canvas. The <i>King David</i> was a swift sailer, and soon
+the bow-gun spoke from the deck of the French privateer,
+sending a challenging shot whistling close to
+the stern of the stranger, who flew the flag of the
+States General (the Dutch Republic) with which the
+French were now at war.</p>
+
+<p>The stranger did not relish the challenge, and came
+to in a hurry, while her flag fluttered weakly to the
+deck.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;She&rsquo;s ours!&rdquo; cried Jean Bart, gleefully. &ldquo;And
+without a fight. Hurray for the life of a privateer!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Quickly ranging alongside, the stranger was seen
+to be a valuable prize, laden with tea, spices, and cotton.
+She was manned by a small crew and sent to
+port.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Now off for other luck!&rdquo; cried Jean Bart.</p>
+
+<p>Luck was with him, too. In four months cruising
+in the English Channel, near the Belgian coast, he captured
+six prizes; all without any fighting. The Dutch
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg&nbsp;93]</a></span>
+trading vessels of those days must have been without
+guns and poorly manned, for it should have been easy
+to stand off a crew of but thirty-six, with only two
+cannon aboard. Jean Bart&mdash;you may be sure&mdash;was
+well satisfied. He was now rich, quite famous, and
+keen for further adventure.</p>
+
+<p>So well did the owners of the privateer <i>King David</i>
+think of him, that they now put him in charge of a
+larger vessel named <i>La Royale</i>, carrying about eighty
+men and ten guns.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Go out and win!&rdquo; cried the chief owner of this
+privateer. &ldquo;Jean Bart, you are followed by the best
+blood of France. Your men are all from Dunkirk!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>And Jean Bart smiled.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Watch me!&rdquo; said he.</p>
+
+<p>Cruising near the coast of Holland in company
+with a small French gun-boat, he fell in with a man-of-war&mdash;the
+<i>Esperance</i>&mdash;carrying twelve guns and
+about one hundred and twenty men.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Now we&rsquo;ll have a real fight!&rdquo; cried the youthful
+French commander as he cleared decks for action.
+&ldquo;Men, see to it that your swords are sharpened for
+there may be some boarding!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Then he signalled to the little French gun-boat to
+follow him and give battle. This ally carried about
+a hundred men and six cannon.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Poof! Poof!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The heavy guns of the Dutchman were the first to
+speak and they barked away like fat Newfoundland
+watch-dogs.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Poof! Poof! B-o-o-m!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg&nbsp;94]</a></span>
+Jean Bart reserved his fire until within about
+seventy-five yards and then he gave the command,</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Fire away! Aim low! And try to hull her!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>A sheet of flame sprang from the ten guns of <i>La
+Royale</i> and a splitting of boards and crackling of
+splinters showed that the iron missiles had punctured
+the stout sides of the <i>Esperance</i>.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Pop! Pop! Crash!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The other French vessel now threw her lead into
+the stern of the defender of the flag of the States General
+and her mizzen-mast was seen to rock like an
+unfastened May pole.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Whow!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The <i>Esperance</i> was not slow in answering back and
+her twelve guns spat like leopards in the brush. She
+filled away and bore towards the land, but the French
+gun-boat saw this move and checkmated it.</p>
+
+<p>Sailing across her bow, the Frenchman raked her
+fore and aft, while the rub-a-dub-dub of Jean Bart&rsquo;s
+guns went drumming against her starboard side.
+Crash! Crash! Crash! Her boards were split, her
+mizzen-mast was swaying, and her rigging was near
+cut in two. Men were falling fast and two of her
+guns had blown up and were rendered useless.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Surrender!&rdquo; came a sharp hail from the lusty
+throat of Jean Bart, and, as he spoke, a perfect hail
+of grape came from his French ally, now creeping up
+to port for a chance to grapple and board.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What can I do?&rdquo; sighed the stout, Dutch commander,
+turning to one of his lieutenants. &ldquo;Boy, haul
+down our flag!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg&nbsp;95]</a></span>
+So down came the emblem of the States General
+amidst ringing cheers from the throats of the followers
+of Jean Bart. They had won a notable
+victory.</p>
+
+<p>When the <i>Esperance</i> was towed and half-sailed into
+Dunkirk harbor, old Antoine Sauret was there.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ah, my friends,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;I always told you that
+my boy, Jean Bart, would make a great name for himself.
+Three times three for the great privateer of
+Dunkirk!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>And all the bystanders joined in right willingly.</p>
+
+<p>Not long after this event, our hero&rsquo;s ship was lying
+in the harbor of Bergen in Sweden. The captain of
+an English vessel met him on shore, and, after having
+a chat with him, remarked:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I hear that you have quite a reputation for fighting
+your ship. I, too, am a sea warrior and would
+like to have a little affair with you. My own vessel
+is of about the same tonnage as yours, so that
+we could meet upon even terms. Will you join
+me?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I would be delighted,&rdquo; answered the war-like Jean
+Bart. &ldquo;If you wait two days I will be ready for you
+and will fight you three miles off the coast. Meanwhile
+I must lie here and take on some stores which
+are much needed by both men and guns.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The Englishman smiled.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You are a man after my own heart,&rdquo; said he.
+&ldquo;Good-by until we meet in battle.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Three days after this, Jean Bart sent a boy to the
+English vessel with a note for the captain. It ran:</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg&nbsp;96]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>&ldquo;I am ready to fight you to-morrow. Meet me
+three miles beyond the breakwater and may the best
+man win. Until then&mdash;good luck.</p>
+
+<p class="sig">&ldquo;Yours for battle,<br />
+&ldquo;<span class="smcap">Jean Bart</span>.&rdquo;</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>The boy came back bearing a return missive from
+the Englishman, who wrote:</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>&ldquo;<span class="smcap">Monsieur Bart</span>: I am delighted to learn that
+you want to fight me, and will do so. You are indeed
+a brave man. But&mdash;before we go for each other&rsquo;s
+throats&mdash;pray let us breakfast together. Will you
+therefore take your morning meal with me, to-morrow,
+in my own cabin, aboard my ship? I shall expect
+you.</p>
+
+<p class="sig">&ldquo;Yours to count on,<br />
+&ldquo;<span class="smcap">Middleton</span>.&rdquo;</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I do not want to accept, but I will,&rdquo; mused Captain
+Bart. &ldquo;These English fellows are far too polite.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>So, next morning, he was rowed to the British vessel
+and was soon breakfasting with his red-faced opponent.</p>
+
+<p>After the meal the Frenchman lighted his pipe,
+took a few puffs, and said:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Monsieur, I have greatly enjoyed this peaceful
+repast. But it is now time for me to go and sharpen
+my boarding-pike. I must bid you adieu.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The Englishman smiled.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg&nbsp;97]</a></span>
+&ldquo;No,&rdquo; said he. &ldquo;You cannot go. You are my
+prisoner!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Jean Bart still smoked.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You are too quick!&rdquo; he answered, slowly.
+&ldquo;There you are wrong. I am not your prisoner, for
+I see a barrel of gunpowder on the deck, and, if you
+do not release me immediately, I will blow up your
+ship!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The Englishman turned pale.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Watch me!&rdquo; cried Jean Bart.</p>
+
+<p>Leaping from his seat, he rushed to the deck, lighted
+a match from his pipe, and held it directly over the
+mouth of a barrel of gunpowder, from which someone
+had pried the head.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Lay on! You cowards!&rdquo; he yelled. &ldquo;Lay on,
+and we&rsquo;ll all go to the Land of the Hereafter together.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>His cry was heard upon his own vessel, which&mdash;with
+sails up&mdash;lay waiting for him.</p>
+
+<p>In a moment her bow was turned towards the
+British ship which was still at anchor, with sails unhoisted.
+In a moment she dropped down alongside&mdash;and&mdash;in
+less time than it takes to tell&mdash;the Frenchmen
+had brought her upon the port quarter, and were
+swarming across the deck to rescue their bold captain.</p>
+
+<p>Taken by surprise, the English put up a plucky fight,
+but they were no match for the infuriated men of
+Dunkirk. They were soon overpowered. The captain
+was taken prisoner, and the vessel was considered
+a legitimate prize of war, because of the trick which
+Middleton had attempted to play upon Jean Bart.
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg&nbsp;98]</a></span>
+When&mdash;in a few days&mdash;the prize was sailed into
+Dunkirk harbor&mdash;the Englishman well wished that
+he had not attempted to capture the most able privateersman
+of all France.</p>
+
+<p>The fame of this exploit spread over the land, and
+gave rise to a ditty, which ran:</p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;If you want to catch Jean Bart, sir,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A slippery, slimy chap,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Don&rsquo;t bait him with gunpowder,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For he&rsquo;s sure to miss the trap.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You must splice him down with chains, sir;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You must nail him to the deck.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Put a belt around his middle,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And a collar &rsquo;round his neck.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Even then you cannot hold him,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For he&rsquo;s certain to get through,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While his sailors sing a song, sir,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With a<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">Cock-<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">a-<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">doodle-<br /></span>
+<span class="i9">doo!&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p>In July, 1675, Jean Bart was married, but he did
+not remain long on shore. Three weeks after this
+auspicious event he once more put to sea and captured
+a number of Dutch fishing boats, which he allowed the
+captains to ransom for large sums of money.</p>
+
+<p>This was a very convenient arrangement, for it
+saved him the trouble of putting part of his own crew
+on board and sending the boats to port. But the owners
+of <i>La Royale</i>, upon which he sailed, did not care
+for his methods of procedure.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You cannot do this in future!&rdquo; said they. &ldquo;And
+you must forfeit half of what you took to us!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg&nbsp;99]</a></span>
+Jean Bart obeyed, but he was very angry. It is
+even said that he uttered &ldquo;a round seaman&rsquo;s oath.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>So successful was he, in fact, that he was given a
+much larger vessel in 1676. This was a frigate&mdash;the
+<i>Palme</i>&mdash;with twenty-four guns and a crew of
+one hundred and fifty men. Sailing into the North
+Sea with two small French gun-boats, he soon fell in
+with three Dutch privateers and eight armed whaling
+vessels. He attacked, and the battle raged for three
+long, bloody hours.</p>
+
+<p>When the smoke and the fumes of sulphur burned
+away, Bart had boarded the largest privateer, while his
+two consorts had taken the eight whalers. The other
+Dutch privateers found it too hot for their liking and
+scudded for the coast, firing their stern-guns derisively
+as they disappeared. It was a great victory, and again
+the French coast rung with salvos for Jean Bart, while
+the old sea-dogs shrugged their shoulders, saying:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ah! Ha! Did we not tell you that Dunkirk bred
+men of bone and marrow. Ah! Ha!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>But Jean Bart was not happy.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Would that I could meet a foe of my own force,&rdquo;
+he used to say. &ldquo;Either a man-of-war or a privateer,
+I don&rsquo;t care which. I want to try it on with one of
+my own size and strength.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>His wish was soon to be gratified.</p>
+
+<p>On September 7th, 1676, he was pointing the <i>Palme</i>
+towards the Belgian coast-line, when he sighted a
+number of sail on the starboard quarter. He headed
+for them; scanned the white dots through a glass, and
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg&nbsp;100]</a></span>
+saw that this was a fishing fleet of small, unarmed
+luggers. But a big, hulking Dutch frigate hovered
+in their rear, and thirty-two guns pointed their brown
+muzzles menacingly from her open port-holes. She
+was the <i>Neptune</i> and she lazed along like a huge
+whale: omnipotent and self-satisfied.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ah ha!&rdquo; cried the delighted Jean Bart. &ldquo;Now
+I have met an enemy that is worthy of my steel. Up
+with the flag and sail into yonder Dutchman. We
+have but twenty-four guns to her thirty-two, but are
+we to be awed by this show of force? Be ready, my
+boys, to have the stiffest fight in your careers!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The Dutchman was equally well pleased when he
+saw who was coming for him.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Here is Jean Bart, the pirate and privateer,&rdquo; he
+cried. &ldquo;For three years I&rsquo;ve been hoping to have a
+fight with him and now my chance has come at last.
+I am fortunate, for I can pay him back for all the
+damage that he has done to Dutch commerce. Shoot
+low, my hearties, and do not fail to hull our enemy.
+Let your war-cry be: &lsquo;Down with Jean Bart and his
+pirate crew!&rsquo;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Hurrah!&rdquo; shouted his men.</p>
+
+<p>And an answering</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Hurray!&rdquo; came from the <i>Palme</i>. These opponents
+were as eager to get at each other as two prize-fighters
+of modern days.</p>
+
+<p><em>Crash!</em> roared a broadside from the Dutch frigate
+as her flag went aloft, and splash, splash, splash, went
+her shells around the sides of the privateer.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Sail in close!&rdquo; yelled Jean Bart. &ldquo;Hug her to
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg&nbsp;101]</a></span>
+leeward for awhile, then cross her bows, rake her, get
+her wind, and board.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Hurray!&rdquo; shouted the men of Dunkirk, and a
+rattle, rattle, roar came from the port guns of the
+<i>Palme</i>.</p>
+
+<p>Around and around swung the sea gladiators and
+the little fishing boats luffed and tittered on the waves
+like inquisitive sparrows.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Bart cannot win!&rdquo; said several of their skippers.
+&ldquo;For he&rsquo;s outweighted and outnumbered!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>But Bart was fighting like John Paul Jones.</p>
+
+<p>Around and around went the two opponents, guns
+growling, men cheering, sails slapping and ripping
+with the chain and solid shot. Again and again Jean
+Bart endeavored to get a favorable position for boarding
+and again and again he was forced to tack away
+by the quick man&oelig;uvres of the Dutchman.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Fire into her rigging!&rdquo; he now thundered.
+&ldquo;Cripple those topsails and I can bring my boat
+alongside.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;<em>Crash! Crash! Crash!</em>&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Volley after volley puffed from the side of the
+rolling <i>Palme</i>. Volley after volley poured its lead and
+iron into the swaying rigging of the Dutchman, and,
+with a great roaring, ripping, and smashing, the
+mizzen topmast came toppling over the lee rail.</p>
+
+<p>A lusty cheer sounded from the deck of the <i>Palme</i>.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;She&rsquo;s ours!&rdquo; cried Jean Bart, smiling.</p>
+
+<p>Instantly he spun over the wheel, luffed, and
+brought his boat upon the starboard quarter of the
+Dutchman, who was now part helpless. It took but
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg&nbsp;102]</a></span>
+a moment to run alongside, and, in a moment more,
+the <i>Palme</i> was lashed to the <i>Neptune</i> in a deadly embrace.
+Smoke rolled from the sides of both contestants
+and the roar of the guns drowned the shrill cries
+of the wounded. The Dutchmen were now desperate
+and their guns were spitting fire in rapid, successive
+volleys; but many of them were silenced, as the great,
+brown side of the <i>Palme</i> rubbed its planking against
+the splintered railing of the shattered <i>Neptune</i>.</p>
+
+<p>As the vessels were securely bound together, Jean
+Bart seized a boarding-pike, a brace of pistols, and,
+giving the helm to a sailor, leaped into the waist of
+his ship.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Board! Board!&rdquo; he shouted.</p>
+
+<p>A wild yelp greeted these welcome sounds. As he
+vaulted over the rail of his own ship to the deck of
+the stranger, a motley crew of half-wild sea-savages
+swarmed behind him. They had cutlasses and boarding-pikes,
+and their faces were blackened with powder.
+Their eyes were reddened with sulphurous fumes and
+their clothes torn with splintered planking. They
+rolled over the gunwales like a huge wave of irresistible
+fire: pistols spitting, pikes gleaming, cutlasses
+glistening in the rays of the sun.</p>
+
+<p>The captain of the <i>Neptune</i> lay near his own wheel,
+grievously wounded.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Lay on, men!&rdquo; he shouted. &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t let this
+French privateer beat us. We will be disgraced.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>But his sailors were no match for the onrush of
+these fiends from Dunkirk. They fell back like foam
+before a sea squall.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg&nbsp;103]</a></span>
+&ldquo;Then down with our flag,&rdquo; cried the captain of
+the Dutchman. &ldquo;But, ye gods, how it hurts me to
+give the order.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>A sailor seized the halyards and pulled the ensign
+to the deck, and, as it fell upon the reddened planking,
+a wild, frenzied cheer came from the French privateers.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Jean Bart, forever! France forever! Jean Bart
+forever!&rdquo; they cried.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Up with the French flag!&rdquo; yelled Jean Bart,
+laughing like a boy. &ldquo;Up with the white lilies of
+France.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>And, as a spare ensign ran aloft, the little fishing
+luggers scudded for the shore.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;After them, men!&rdquo; cried Captain Bart. &ldquo;Our
+work is not yet over. We must have the lambs as
+well as the old wolf.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>So, sail was soon clapped on the <i>Palme</i>, she headed
+for the fleeing boats, and, with a few well directed
+shots, hove them to. Then they were told to follow
+behind and head for France, which they did&mdash;but,
+oh! how it did hurt!</p>
+
+<p>It was a proud moment for Jean Bart, and his eyes
+danced with pleasure when he sailed into Dunkirk with
+the captured <i>Neptune</i> and the fleet of fishing boats.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Voil&agrave;!&rdquo; cried the townspeople. &ldquo;Jean Bart is a
+true hero. Voil&agrave;! He shall have the freedom of the
+city. Voil&agrave;!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The fame of this gallant exploit soon spread abroad
+and the king showed some desire to see this courageous
+privateersman.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg&nbsp;104]</a></span>
+&ldquo;I would have him at court,&rdquo; said he to his minister
+Colbert. &ldquo;For I would reward him.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>When news of this was brought to the privateersman
+he was naturally delighted, and, travelling to
+Versailles, was ushered into the presence of his Majesty.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Here is a gold chain for you,&rdquo; said the king. &ldquo;I
+trust that you will keep it in recognition of my appreciation
+of your gallant conduct. I would be glad, indeed,
+to have you in the Royal Service. Would you
+not take a commission?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You overwhelm me,&rdquo; answered the valiant sea-fighter,
+blushing. &ldquo;I&mdash;I&mdash;I&mdash;am quite disconcerted.
+But&mdash;if it would please your Majesty, I
+believe that I would prefer to remain a simple privateer.
+It is a free life and it suits my roving nature.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The king chuckled.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;So be it,&rdquo; said he. &ldquo;But my good sir, keep yourself
+in readiness for a commission. I may need you in
+the Royal Marine!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Very good, Sire!&rdquo; said Jean Bart, and, bowing
+low, he withdrew.</p>
+
+<p>But he did not get away without an adventure,&mdash;quite
+as exciting as any he had had aboard the rocking
+decks of one of his privateer ships.</p>
+
+<p>The fame of Jean Bart had stirred up a number of
+enemies, for, when a man is successful in life, are there
+not always a hundred unsuccessful fellows who stand
+about and scoff?</p>
+
+<p>Among these were a few followers of the sea who
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg&nbsp;105]</a></span>
+had determined to make way with this too fortunate
+privateer. One&mdash;Jules Blanc by name&mdash;even decided
+upon murder, if Jean Bart would not agree to
+leave the privateering business to himself and his
+companions.</p>
+
+<p>As the sailor from Dunkirk left the presence of
+the king he was accosted by one of his old acquaintances.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ha, Jean Bart,&rdquo; said he. &ldquo;Come with me to the
+Inn. Have a glass with me, my boy, for I see that
+the king has richly rewarded you. You deserve it,
+for you have done well, and you must be tired from
+your journey. Come, let us dine together?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Suspecting nothing, the gallant privateer followed
+his companion quite willingly, and, when he arrived
+at the Inn, was not surprised to find several other seamen
+from Dunkirk and the neighboring seaports of
+France. They greeted him warmly.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;To your health!&rdquo; cried they, raising their glasses
+of wine. &ldquo;To the health of the bravest privateer in
+all of France.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Jean Bart was delighted. He smiled like a child,
+seated himself at their table, and began to drink with
+these jovial men of the sea.</p>
+
+<p>As he sat there, suddenly a paper was mysteriously
+shoved into his hand. He did not see from whence
+it came, and, as he scanned its contents, his face grew
+strangely pale.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Beware of these fellows,&rdquo; he read. &ldquo;They mean
+to kill you if you do not do what they wish. Beware!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg&nbsp;106]</a></span>
+Jean Bart soon regained his composure.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Come! Let us go to the dining-room up-stairs,&rdquo;
+said the friend who had first accosted him. &ldquo;Come,
+my boys! We will there have far more quiet!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>All moved for the door.</p>
+
+<p>Jean Bart moved, also, but before he went up-stairs,
+he loosened his sword-belt and cocked two pistols
+which he carried at his waist. He was not surprised
+when he saw them lock the stout door as they
+entered the room upon the second floor.</p>
+
+<p>When they were all seated Jules Blanc arose. His
+face well exhibited his dislike for the successful privateersman,
+Jean Bart.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Now, my friend,&rdquo; said he, facing the man from
+Dunkirk, &ldquo;we have you here with a purpose. We
+wish you to know that we are determined that you
+shall no longer go to sea and spoil our own business
+for us. You have had enough success. We
+want you to withdraw and give some one else a
+chance.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Jean Bart smiled.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We think that you should retire for we want
+some pickings for ourselves.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And if I refuse?&rdquo; queried Jean Bart.</p>
+
+<p>Jules Blanc placed his hand instantly upon his
+sword-hilt.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Then&mdash;there will be trouble!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Poof!&rdquo; said Jean Bart.</p>
+
+<p>As he spoke, all drew their rapiers.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Again Poof!&rdquo; said Jean Bart.</p>
+
+<p>As he spoke, a thrust came from his right. He
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg&nbsp;107]</a></span>
+parried it, leaped upon a chair, and stood there smiling.</p>
+
+<p>Crack! There was the sound of a pistol and a
+bullet whizzed by his ear.</p>
+
+<p>Then there was a sudden and awful <em>Crash!</em> The
+room was filled with dust.</p>
+
+<p>When the startled sea-dogs looked about them Jean
+Bart no longer stood upon the table. He had disappeared
+through the window. And broken glass with
+splintered fastenings was all that remained of the once
+perfect glazing.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;He has gone,&rdquo; said Jules Blanc. &ldquo;Fellow seamen,
+we are outdone.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>But Jean Bart was a quarter of a mile away, laughing
+softly to himself, as he sped along the highway
+which led to quiet Dunkirk.</p>
+
+<p>Things went well with him, also, for his employers&mdash;appreciating
+his past services&mdash;now gave him
+command of a larger ship than the <i>Palme</i>: the <i>Dauphin</i>,
+with thirty guns and two hundred eager and
+adventurous sailors from the northern coast of France.</p>
+
+<p>Sailing forth from Dunkirk harbor, on June 18th,
+1678, Jean Bart eagerly scanned the horizon with his
+glass. With him were two smaller privateers, so that
+he felt well able to cope with any adversary from Holland.
+His keen glance was soon to be rewarded, for
+when but two days from port he spied a sail upon the
+starboard bow. It was a Dutch frigate&mdash;the <i>Sherdam</i>&mdash;of
+forty guns and manned by many stout dogs
+of the sea. Her captain&mdash;Andr&eacute; Ranc&mdash;was a keen
+fighter and a man of well-tried courage.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg&nbsp;108]</a></span>
+&ldquo;Bear off to leeward!&rdquo; signalled Jean Bart to his
+privateer companion. &ldquo;Then we will get the stranger
+between us, fasten to her, and board her from either
+side.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The flag of the French privateer dipped back an
+answering, &ldquo;All right!&rdquo; and, as she was nearest to
+the Dutchman, she attacked at once.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;<em>Poom! Poom!</em>&rdquo; went the Dutch cannon, like the
+beating of a churn in that land of canals and cheese-making.
+And <em>piff! piff!</em> answered the little howitzers
+of the privateer.</p>
+
+<p>But Jean Bart meant to have a quick fight, so he
+bore down to starboard, wore ship, and ran so close to
+the enemy, that his grappling irons soon held her fast.
+In a moment more his own vessel was hauled alongside.</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile the smaller French privateer had
+spanked over to larboard; had run up upon the opposite
+side of the lumbering Dutchman; and had also
+gripped her. A wild, nerve-wracking cheer went up,
+as&mdash;sword in hand&mdash;Jean Bart led his boarders
+over the side of the Dutch vessel.</p>
+
+<p>Ranc was badly wounded but he led his men to a
+counter assault with courage born of desperation.
+Cutlasses crashed together, boarding-pikes smashed
+and hacked, and pistols growled and spattered in
+one discordant roar. Back went the Dutch sailors
+fighting savagely and bluntly with all the stubbornness
+of their natures, then back they pushed the
+followers of Jean Bart, while Ranc called to
+them:</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg&nbsp;109]</a></span>
+&ldquo;Drive these French curs into the sea!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;">
+<a name="bart_led_his_boarders" id="bart_led_his_boarders"></a>
+<img src="images/fpas10.jpg" width="600" height="515" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">&ldquo;JEAN BART LED HIS BOARDERS OVER THE SIDE OF THE DUTCH VESSEL.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>But now the other privateer had made fast, and her
+men came clambering over the rail, with cutlass, dirk,
+and pistols.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We&rsquo;re outnumbered,&rdquo; Ranc shouted, his face
+showing extreme suffering. &ldquo;Haul down the flag!
+Had Jean Bart been here alone I could have trounced
+him well.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Thus reluctantly and sadly the flag of the <i>Sherdam</i>
+came down. But the French had paid well for their victory.</p>
+
+<p>Jean Bart was badly wounded in the leg; his face
+was burned by the discharge of a gun, which went off&mdash;almost
+in his eyes&mdash;just as he leaped on board the
+<i>Sherdam</i>. Six of his men were killed and thirty-one
+were wounded, while the little privateer that had
+fastened to the other flank of the huge <i>Sherdam</i>, was
+a total wreck. So well, indeed, had the Dutch fighters
+plied their cannon as she approached, that she was
+shattered almost beyond repair. With great difficulty
+she was finally towed to shore.</p>
+
+<p>Of course all France again rang with the fame of
+Jean Bart, while the crafty sea-dogs who had endeavored
+to capture the slippery privateersman were
+furious with envious rage. But Jean Bart hummed
+a little tune to himself, which ran,</p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;You&rsquo;ll have to get up early if you want to catch Jean Bart,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You&rsquo;ll have to get up early, and have a goodly start,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For the early bird can catch the worm, if the worm is fast asleep,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But not if it&rsquo;s a privateer, who can through a window leap.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg&nbsp;110]</a></span>
+This invincible corsair was also not idle, for in two
+weeks&rsquo; time he was again at sea in the <i>Mars</i> of thirty-two
+guns, and a fast sailer. Eagerly looking for
+prizes, he cruised far up the coast of Holland and was
+keenly hunting for either merchantman or frigate,
+when a small vessel neared him, upon which was flying
+a white flag.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;A truce!&rdquo; cried Jean Bart. &ldquo;The war must be
+over.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>When the little boat drew nearer, a fat Dutchman
+called out something which sounded like, &ldquo;Amsterdam
+yam Goslam!&rdquo; which meant, &ldquo;Peace has been declared,&rdquo;
+in Dutch.</p>
+
+<p>So Jean Bart sailed back into the sheltering harbor
+of Dunkirk with tears of sorrow in his eyes, for he
+loved his exciting life.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Helas!&rdquo; said he. &ldquo;It is all over!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Thus, indeed, ended the career of Jean Bart as a
+privateer captain. In January, 1679, he was given the
+commission of lieutenant in the French navy, but,
+although he accepted, he was never happy in this
+service. From captain to lieutenant was a decided
+come down, and besides this, the aristocratic officers
+of the Crown made life very unpleasant for one who
+had entered their ranks from privateering.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Bah!&rdquo; said they. &ldquo;He is only a commoner!&rdquo;
+And they would turn up their titled noses.</p>
+
+<p>But&mdash;mark you this!</p>
+
+<p>Several hundred years have passed since those days,
+and Jean Bart&rsquo;s name is still remembered. Who remembers
+the names of any of these titled nobles who
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg&nbsp;111]</a></span>
+held commissions from his Majesty, the King of
+France?</p>
+
+<p>I do not think that any of you do. Certainly I do
+not.</p>
+
+<p>Therefore, there is a little lesson to be learned, and
+it is this:</p>
+
+<p>Never sneer at the fellow who accomplishes things,
+if he be of humble birth. <em>His</em> name may go down to
+history. <em>Yours</em> probably will not.</p>
+
+<p>So, the next time that you are tempted to do this,
+think it over. If you do, you will not say, &ldquo;Pish,&mdash;the
+Commoner!&rdquo; But you will say,</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well done! The Hero!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>So, good-by, Jean Bart, and may France produce
+your like again, if she can!</p>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg&nbsp;112]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;Keep these legends, gray with age,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Saved from the crumbling wrecks of yore,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When cheerful conquerors moored their barques<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Along the Saxon shore.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class="author">&mdash;<span class="smcap">Thompson.</span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<a name="Page_113" id="Page_113"><!-- unnumbered title page --></a>
+<p><span class='pagenum'></span></p>
+
+<h2>DU GUAY-TROUIN<br />
+<br />
+THE GREAT FRENCH &ldquo;BLUE&rdquo;<br />
+<br />
+(1673-1736)</h2>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg&nbsp;114]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>&ldquo;Self trust is the essence of Heroism.&rdquo;&mdash;<span class="smcap">Plutarch.</span></p>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg&nbsp;115]</a></span></p>
+
+<p class="center padtop">DU GUAY-TROUIN<br />
+THE GREAT FRENCH &ldquo;BLUE&rdquo;<br />
+(1673-1736)</p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;He&rsquo;s only a scurvy Democrat, his blood is hardly blue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, Sacre Nom de Dieu! Sapristi! Eet is true!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet, he fights like the Maid of Orleans, with dirk and halberd, too,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, Sacre Nom de Dieu! Sapristi! Eet is true!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then&mdash;what&rsquo;ll you think, good gentlemen, you men of the kingly pack,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ye sons of Armand the Terrible, ye whelps of Catouriac,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shall <em>he</em> gain the royal purple? Shall <em>he</em> sit in the ranks with us?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shall <em>he</em> quaff of our golden vintage, shall <em>he</em> ride in the royal bus?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nay! Nay! For that would be te-r-r-ible! Nay! Nay! <em>That ill-born cuss?</em><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Par donc! but that is unbearable! &rsquo;Twould result in a shameful fuss!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Pray, let him remain a Democrat&mdash;The cream of the fleet for us.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class="author">&mdash;<i>Song of the French Royal Marine.</i>&mdash;1695.</p>
+
+<p><span class="dropcap">Y</span>OU <em>must</em> be a churchman, R&eacute;nee,&rdquo; said the
+good Luc Trouin, turning to his little son.
+&ldquo;I have always had a great ambition to have
+a child of mine in the church, and I feel that you are
+in every way qualified for the position of a prelate.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>But little R&eacute;nee hung his head.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Look up, boy,&rdquo; continued the amiable Frenchman.
+&ldquo;I know that you are not now pleased with the idea,
+but&mdash;later on&mdash;after you have had more experience,
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg&nbsp;116]</a></span>
+I feel sure that you can thank Heaven that your good
+father started you in the right and proper direction.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Still, little R&eacute;nee hung his head.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Tut! Tut!&rdquo; continued the old man. &ldquo;You will
+leave, to-morrow, for the college at Rheims, and, after
+you have been there but a short time, I feel sure that
+you will like it. Tut! Tut!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>But still little R&eacute;nee hung his head.</p>
+
+<p>Again came the amiable &ldquo;Tut! Tut!&rdquo; and the
+chuckling Luc Trouin wandered off into the garden
+to see how well the potatoes were growing.</p>
+
+<p>But little R&eacute;nee still hung his head.</p>
+
+<p>And&mdash;in spite of the fact that little R&eacute;nee went to
+the Divinity school at Rheims, he continued to hang
+his head. He hung his head for three years. Then,
+news was brought to him, one day, that the good Luc
+Trouin was dead, and, instead of holding his handkerchief
+to his eyes to wipe away the tears, as one
+would expect of him, little R&eacute;nee burst into loud
+laughter.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;At last,&rdquo; cried he, &ldquo;I can get away from the
+church and go to sea. At last my freedom has come!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>And it was not many hours before little R&eacute;nee was
+scudding away from the school of Divinity, like a
+clipper-ship under a full spread of canvas, before a
+rousing sou&rsquo;west breeze.</p>
+
+<p>For at least two hundred years before the birth of
+bad, little R&eacute;nee, the Trouin family had been well
+known and prosperous in the Breton seaport of St.
+Malo. For many years a Trouin had been consul at
+Malaga, Spain; and other members of the house had
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg&nbsp;117]</a></span>
+held excellent positions with the King, so little R&eacute;nee
+had no reason to be ashamed of his forebears, in spite
+of the fact that his people were of the &ldquo;bourgeoisie:&rdquo;
+ship-owners, traders, smugglers, privateers, and merchants.
+And, as they were of the &ldquo;bourgeoisie,&rdquo; they
+were somewhat looked down upon by the proud and
+haughty aristocrats who fawned about the weak and
+dissipated King.</p>
+
+<p>Little R&eacute;nee was the son of Luc Trouin and Marguerite
+Boscher but he was called Du Guay-Trouin,
+in later years, and the reason for this is plain. For&mdash;in
+accordance with the custom of the time&mdash;he was
+sent to be nursed by a foster mother who resided in
+the little village of Le Gu&eacute;. So he was called Trouin
+du Gu&eacute;; which shortly became Du Guay-Trouin.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;ve come home, mother,&rdquo; shouted little R&eacute;nee,
+when he had plodded his weary way which lay between
+his temporary prison and the house of his parents.
+&ldquo;I&rsquo;ve come home, mother, and I&rsquo;m going to sea!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>But his mother did not take any too kindly to this
+bold and valiant idea.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You must study law,&rdquo; said she, with great firmness.
+And&mdash;in spite of the fact that little R&eacute;nee
+begged and pleaded&mdash;he was forced to give up his
+idea of seafaring life for the dry drudgery and routine
+of a clerk at law. He was now about sixteen
+years of age.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The law is dry and my spirits are high,&rdquo; youthful
+R&eacute;nee is said to have carolled as he spent his first few
+hours at a lecture, &ldquo;and whatever may be I&rsquo;m going
+to sea.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg&nbsp;118]</a></span>
+At any rate, he soon got into trouble and engaged
+in three duels in his sixteenth year, in one of which
+his assailant gave him a serious wound. This was
+too much for even his stern mother to bear, so, summoning
+a family council, she gave forth the following opinion:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;R&eacute;nee has failed as a student of Divinity. R&eacute;nee
+has failed as a student of law. R&eacute;nee has entirely too
+high spirits. R&eacute;nee shall, therefore, be placed in one
+of the family ships and sent to sea.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>And to this decree R&eacute;nee is said to have cried:
+&ldquo;At last! Hurray!&rdquo; for he longed for action.</p>
+
+<p>In a very short time little R&eacute;nee had a taste of that
+war and adventure which he craved, for a historian
+writes that:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;During the first three months of this cruise his
+courage was tried by a violent tempest, an imminent
+shipwreck, the boarding of an English ship, and the
+threatened destruction of his own vessel by fire. The
+following year, still as a volunteer, he displayed the
+greatest personal courage and won much fame in an
+engagement which his ship had with five merchant
+vessels.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ah ha,&rdquo; said little R&eacute;nee, &ldquo;this is indeed life. I
+am having a good time.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>So well did those higher in command feel towards
+the youthful sailor, that, at the age of eighteen, he was
+actually put in charge of the ship <i>Danycan</i> of fourteen
+guns,&mdash;for France was at war with England, Holland,
+and Spain, and to him who could strike a quick
+and well-aimed blow there were &ldquo;nice pickings&rdquo; to
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg&nbsp;119]</a></span>
+be had. And the reckless young sea-dog found some
+&ldquo;nice pickings&rdquo; in Ireland, for, he landed an armed
+party upon the coast of County Clare, where he pillaged
+a village, burned two ships at anchor, and escaped
+to his own vessel with considerable booty
+and family heirlooms of the peasants, who said,
+&ldquo;Och, Begorra! We&rsquo;ll be afther that wild bhoy
+before many suns, and spank him for his unseemly
+whork.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>But the French cried &ldquo;Voil&agrave;! Here, indeed, is a
+brave young Bourgeois,&rdquo; and promptly raised him to
+the command of the <i>Coetquen</i> of eighteen guns, in
+which he soon went cruising, accompanied by a sister-ship,
+the <i>St. Aaron</i>.</p>
+
+<p>Prowling around the English channel, the skulking
+sea-hounds soon came across two small English men-of-war
+with five valuable merchantmen under their
+sheltering wings.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;All ready for the attack!&rdquo; shouted Du Guay-Trouin.
+&ldquo;We&rsquo;ll make mince-meat of those foreign
+hulks, in spite of the fact that they are protected by
+two men-of-war.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>And, crowding on all sail, his own vessel and the
+<i>St. Aaron</i> quickly bore down upon the Englishmen,
+who, seeing them approach, hove-to for action.</p>
+
+<p>The engagement was short. After a few broadsides
+had been delivered, the English struck, the prizes
+were taken over, and all started for the coast of
+France. But suddenly a cry went up,</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Sail ho! Sail ho! off the starboard bow!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ta Donc,&rdquo; cried the surprised Du Guay-Trouin.
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg&nbsp;120]</a></span>
+&ldquo;It is a big man-of-warsman and a Britisher too.
+We must give up our prizes, I fear. Clap on all canvas
+and we&rsquo;ll hie us to shore.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>So all sail was hoisted, and, steering for the shoals
+and rocks off Lundy Island&mdash;where he knew that
+the heavy Englishman could not follow&mdash;Du Guay-Trouin
+soon outdistanced and outwitted the <i>Centurion</i>:
+a line-of-battle ship and a formidable opponent.
+The rich prizes had to be left behind.</p>
+
+<p>Honorable appointments crowded upon the daring,
+young sea-dog, after this affair, and we find him successively
+in command of the <i>Profond</i>, of thirty-two
+guns; the <i>Hercule</i>, of twenty-eight guns, and the
+<i>Diligente</i> of thirty-six guns and two hundred and
+fifty sailors, which was a King&rsquo;s ship borrowed for
+privateering and run on shares,&mdash;the monarch to
+have a certain part of the winnings.</p>
+
+<p>Like partners in business the <i>Diligente</i> and <i>Hercule</i>
+now went cruising, and it was not long before the
+two harpies swooped down upon their prey in the
+shape of two Dutch East Indiamen, armed with
+twenty-five guns each, and manned by rotund-bodied
+Dutchmen. There was rich treasure aboard, and, with
+eagerness and zeal, the Frenchmen slapped on all canvas
+in pursuit.</p>
+
+<p>Now was a hot chase. Mile after mile was passed,
+and slowly but surely the Frenchmen gained upon the
+lumbering foe. Then suddenly,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p><em>Crash!</em></p>
+
+<p>A ball screamed above the head of Du Guay-Trouin,
+and a Dutchman hove-to for battle.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg&nbsp;121]</a></span>
+&ldquo;Crawl in close,&rdquo; cried the valiant Frenchman,
+&ldquo;and don&rsquo;t let go a broadside until you can hit &rsquo;em
+below the water line. Try to scuttle the Dutch lumber
+merchant!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>His men obeyed him willingly and soon there was
+a muffled roar as the first broadside spoke in the still
+air. Another and another followed, and the Dutchman
+trembled like an aspen leaf.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Hah,&rdquo; shouted the enthusiastic R&eacute;nee, &ldquo;up goes
+the white flag!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Sure enough, the vessel struck, and aboard of her
+was the Dutch commodore. But the <i>Hercule</i> was
+beaten off by the second Dutchman, and, as the privateers
+boarded the captured vessel, the East Indiaman
+showed a clean pair of heels, under a cloud of
+bellying canvas.</p>
+
+<p>Du Guay-Trouin was delighted. &ldquo;On we go,
+Boys,&rdquo; he cried, &ldquo;for we&rsquo;ll sail these waters until we
+strike another prize.&rdquo; And this is what soon happened.</p>
+
+<p>On May the 12th, the <i>Diligente</i> was cruising alone,
+when, suddenly six white dots appeared upon the
+horizon, and six British ships-of-the-line were soon
+closing in upon the venturous French navigator and
+his crew.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ye Gods,&rdquo; cried the doughty Frenchman, &ldquo;we&rsquo;re
+in for it now, but we will give them a lively bout even
+though we&rsquo;ll get the worst of it.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>And here is how he has described the battle:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;One of the English ships named <i>Adventure</i> first
+overtook me, and we maintained a running fight for
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg&nbsp;122]</a></span>
+nearly four hours, before any other of their ships
+could come up....</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;At length my two topmasts were shot away; on
+which the <i>Adventure</i> ranged up alongside me, a short
+pistol-shot off, and hauled up her courses. Seeing
+her so near, it occurred to me to run foul of her and
+board her with my whole crew. Forthwith I ordered
+such of the officers as were near to send the people on
+deck, got ready the grapnels, and put the helm over.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We were just on the point of hooking on to her,
+when unfortunately, one of my Lieutenants, looking
+out through a port and seeing the two ships so close
+together, took it into his head that there was some
+mistake, as he could not think that&mdash;under the circumstances&mdash;I
+had any intention of boarding; and
+so, of himself, ordered the helm to be reversed.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I had no idea of what had been done, and was
+impatiently waiting for the two ships to clash together,
+ready to throw myself on board the enemy; but seeing
+that my ship did not obey her helm, I ran to the
+wheel, and found it had been changed without my
+order.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I had it again jammed hard on; but perceived,
+with the keenest vexation, that the captain of the
+<i>Adventure</i>, having guessed by the expression of my
+face what I had meant to do, had let fall his courses,
+and was sheering off. We had been so near that my
+bowsprit had broken his taffrail; but the mistake of
+my Lieutenant made me lose the opportunity of one
+of the most surprising adventures ever heard tell of.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;In the determination I was in to perish or to
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg&nbsp;123]</a></span>
+capture this ship, which was much the fastest sailor of the
+squadron, it was more than probable that I should have
+succeeded, and should thus have taken back to France
+a much stronger ship than that which I abandoned.
+And, not to speak of the credit which would have
+attached to the execution of such a plan, it is quite
+certain that&mdash;being dismasted&mdash;there was absolutely
+no other way for me to escape from forces so superior.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>But closer&mdash;always closer&mdash;crowded the British
+war-dogs, and the valorous French seamen became
+panic stricken. &ldquo;We are outnumbered and outfought,&rdquo;
+cried many, and, deserting their guns, they
+fled below to the holds, in spite of the vigorous protests
+of Du Guay-Trouin.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I was busy trying to put a stop to the panic,&rdquo;
+says he. &ldquo;I had cut down one and pistolled another,
+when, to crown my misfortune, fire broke out in the
+gun-room. The fear of being blown up made it necessary
+for me to go below; but, having got the fire put
+out, I had a tub full of grenades brought me, and
+began throwing them down into the hold.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;By this means I compelled the deserters to come
+up and to man some of the lower deck guns; but,
+when I went up on the poop, I found, to my astonishment
+and vexation, that some cowardly rascal had
+taken advantage of my absence to haul down the
+colors.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I ordered them to be hoisted again; but my officers
+represented that to do so would be simply giving
+up the remnant of my ship&rsquo;s company to be
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg&nbsp;124]</a></span>
+butchered by the English, who would give no quarter
+if the flag were hoisted again, after being struck for
+so long, and that further resistance was hopeless as
+the ship was dismasted.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Never give in, for&rdquo;&mdash;cried Du Guay-Trouin,
+whose democratic blood was now up, but he did not
+finish the sentence as a spent shot then knocked him
+senseless. And&mdash;as he fell&mdash;the white flag went
+aloft, for his officers had not his fighting spirit.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ah ha,&rdquo; laughed the English jack-tars. &ldquo;We&rsquo;ve
+got the French rascal at last, and we&rsquo;ll hold him
+too.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>So little R&eacute;nee was imprisoned in a nice, dark
+dungeon,&mdash;the kind which the English used to put
+their poor debtors in. But&mdash;like a true man of courage&mdash;little
+R&eacute;nee escaped, took to a smuggler&rsquo;s skiff,
+and made off to the coast of France, where he arrived
+on the 18th of June, 1694, and was received right
+boisterously by the Trouin family.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;My son,&rdquo; spoke his aged mother, &ldquo;you were
+indeed not intended for the law, for lawlessness seems
+to be your particular fancy.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>So the delighted Trouins put him in charge of a
+splendid privateersman mounting forty-eight guns,
+sailing under the simple name of <i>Francois</i>, and, as
+she forged valiantly into the English channel, her
+skipper chanted an old French song, which ran,&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;Sons of St. Malo, hark to my lay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With a Heave! Ho! Blow the man down.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For we&rsquo;ll capture a lugger ere close of the day,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With a Heave! Ho! Blow the man down.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg&nbsp;125]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;She&rsquo;s filled with gold nuggets, her crew is asleep,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then board her, and take her, for dead men are cheap,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We&rsquo;ll spike them and pike them, like so many sheep.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With a Heave! Ho! Blow the man down.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p>It was not long before a sail was sighted, and, on
+the 12th day of January, 1695, the stout, little <i>Francois</i>
+overhauled a solitary timber ship, loaded with huge
+trees, bound to England from the good town of Boston
+in New England. She was an easy capture, and,
+Du Guay-Trouin smiled with joy when her skipper
+said:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Three other lumber ships are in the offing. But
+they are under convoy of the frigate <i>Nonsuch</i> with
+forty-eight guns, and the <i>Falcon</i> with thirty-eight
+cannon. Look out my bold sea-dog, there&rsquo;ll be
+trouble.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>But the French mariner laughed.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It&rsquo;s just what I&rsquo;m searching for,&rdquo; said he, and
+forthwith he swung the stout <i>Francois</i> in wide circles,
+with look-outs at every mast-head.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Sail ho!&rdquo; shouted the watch, next morn, and
+there, off the port bow, were the three merchantmen
+strung out in a line, with the two protecting gun-boats
+to windward.</p>
+
+<p>Like a greyhound the <i>Francois</i> swept down upon
+them, and with the audacity of despair, the privateersman
+of St. Malo ranged alongside of the <i>Falcon</i> and
+opened fire. The engagement was short. In an hour&rsquo;s
+time the guns of the Englishman were silent and a
+white pennon fluttered from the mizzen-mast.</p>
+
+<p>The <i>Nonsuch</i>, meanwhile, had been ranging to
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg&nbsp;126]</a></span>
+windward in a vain endeavor to bring her guns to
+bear upon the Frenchman without crippling her own
+mate, and&mdash;as the <i>Francois</i> drifted away from the
+lurching <i>Falcon</i>&mdash;she bore down to within twenty
+yards, luffed, and spanked a rakish broadside into
+the privateer.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Board her!&rdquo; shouted Du Guay-Trouin. &ldquo;Board
+her!&rdquo; and, bringing the wheel close around, he swung
+the bow of the <i>Francois</i> into the side of the Englishman.
+But, as the sailors scampered to the bulwarks
+with cutlass and with dirk, a sheet of flame burst from
+the port-holes of the drifting <i>Nonsuch</i>. She was afire.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Luff! Luff!&rdquo; cried the keen-eyed French mariner,
+and the <i>Francois</i> drew away as the red flames
+curled upward with a cruel hiss.</p>
+
+<p>With a swift turn the helm again spun over, under
+the quick hand of Du Guay-Trouin, and the <i>Francois</i>
+was jibed about in order to run under the port bow
+of the Englishman.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Hold, Captain!&rdquo; cried a French Lieutenant.
+&ldquo;We, ourselves, are afire!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>As he spoke&mdash;a direful cloud of vapor rolled from
+the starboard quarter.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Alack!&rdquo; answered the now furious R&eacute;nee. &ldquo;This
+puts an end to the fighting of this day, and we&rsquo;d soon
+have had the second Britisher. All hands below and
+bucket out this fire!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>So, as night fell upon the rolling ocean, the <i>Falcon</i>
+lay drifting helplessly, while the <i>Nonsuch</i> and the
+<i>Francois</i> were burning like two beacons upon a jutting
+headland.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg&nbsp;127]</a></span>
+As day broke, the <i>Francois</i> filled away (for the fire
+had been extinguished after an hour&rsquo;s toil) and ranged
+within striking distance of the <i>Nonsuch</i>. A broadside
+belched from her starboard guns and an answering
+roar came back from the cannon of the Englishman.
+The fore and main masts of the <i>Nonsuch</i> trembled
+for a moment&mdash;then tottered and fell&mdash;while
+the gallant Captain, struck in the chest by a flying
+piece of shell, fell dying upon the deck. Du Guay-Trouin
+again attempted to board, at this moment, but
+the third mast was shaking and he was forced to
+sheer off lest the tangle of yards and rigging should
+fall and crush his vessel. He hung within hailing
+distance of the crippled sea-warrior, and, seeing that
+his antagonist was now helpless, cried out through
+his trumpet:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Run up the white flag, or I&rsquo;ll give you a broadside
+that will sink you.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>No answering hail came from the deck of the battered
+<i>Nonsuch</i>, but the piece of a torn, white shirt
+was soon fluttering from the tangled rigging of the
+foremast. Thus the gallant R&eacute;nee had defeated two
+warships of equal strength, and had captured vessels
+with a rich and valuable cargo. Now, don&rsquo;t you think
+that this fellow was a doughty sea rover? And, although
+the English made many excuses, the fact still
+remains that a single privateer had conquered double
+her own force in a fair and open fight upon the high
+seas.</p>
+
+<p>The sturdy <i>Francois</i> could just barely drift into St.
+Malo&mdash;so badly crippled was she&mdash;but the rest came
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg&nbsp;128]</a></span>
+safely to port, in spite of a hard gale which blew down
+the masts of two of the lumber boats. And doughty
+R&eacute;nee refitted the <i>Nonsuch</i>, transferred his flag to
+her, called her the <i>Sans-Pareil</i>, and flung his flag defiantly
+from her mast-head in spite of the fact that
+she was &ldquo;made in England.&rdquo; All France was agog
+over his exploit.</p>
+
+<p>Now, know you, that doughty R&eacute;nee was a
+&ldquo;Blue;&rdquo; a &ldquo;Blue&rdquo; being a man of the people (the
+bourgeoisie) who were not of aristocratic birth. And,
+as the French Royal Marine was the most exclusive
+body of officers in the world, birth and station being
+necessary for admittance therein, the titled office-holders
+threw up their hands when Du Guay-Trouin&rsquo;s
+name was mentioned for a place of command, saying,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Why, he&rsquo;s only a beastly Democrat. Pooh! Bah!
+We do not care to have such a fellow among us.&rdquo;
+And they shrugged their shoulders.</p>
+
+<p>The officers of the French Royal Marine wore red
+breeches, and, if by chance a democrat were given
+a commission, he had to appear in blue small-clothes
+throughout his entire career. Very few of the
+&ldquo;Blues&rdquo; ever came to be an Admiral, for the odds
+were too great against them.</p>
+
+<p>But R&eacute;nee had done so bravely and well that a
+sword was sent him by the King, who wrote,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Should you wish a commission in the Royal Navy,
+good sir, it shall be yours.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>And to this, Du Guay-Trouin replied,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I feel that I can do better where I am, Most
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg&nbsp;129]</a></span>
+Gracious Majesty. I will remain a Privateer.&rdquo; For
+Du Guay-Trouin wished to accumulate riches, as his
+forebears had done.</p>
+
+<p>So, cruising down the coast of Ireland, he fell in
+with three East Indiamen, whom he captured with
+ease, and, piloting them to St. Malo, declared a dividend
+of two thousand pounds ($10,000) a share, to
+the stockholders in his staunch vessel. And the value
+of the shares was but one hundred pounds ($500)
+each. Would not the men of Wall Street love such
+a fellow in these piping times of peace?</p>
+
+<p>A month later we find him cruising in the Bay of
+Biscay, where&mdash;in the dead of night&mdash;he ran into
+a great English fleet, roving about for just such vessels
+as the <i>Sans-Pareil</i> and eager for a broadside at
+the French privateer. But young R&eacute;nee&mdash;for he was
+now twenty-three&mdash;had not lost his nerve. &ldquo;There
+was no time,&rdquo; he wrote, &ldquo;for hesitation. I had two
+valuable prizes with me and ordered them to hoist
+Dutch colors and to run away to leeward, saluting
+me with seven guns each as they went.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Trusting to the goodness and soundness of the
+<i>Sans-Pareil</i> I stood towards the fleet, as boldly and
+as peaceably as if I had really been one of their number,
+rejoining them after having spoken the Dutchmen.
+Two capital ships and a thirty-six gun frigate
+had at first left the fleet to overhaul me; but, on seeing
+what I was doing, the ships returned to their
+stations; the frigate&mdash;impelled by her unlucky fate&mdash;persisted
+in endeavoring to speak the two prizes,
+and I saw that she was rapidly coming up with them.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg&nbsp;130]</a></span>
+&ldquo;I had by this time joined the fleet, tranquil enough
+in appearance, though inwardly I was fuming at the
+prospect of my two prizes being taken by the frigate;
+and, as I perceived that my ship sailed much
+better than those of the enemy who were near me,
+I kept away little by little, at the same time forereaching
+on them. Suddenly, bearing up, I ran
+down to place myself between the prizes and the
+frigate.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I should have liked to lay aboard of her and carry
+her in sight of the whole fleet; but her captain, being
+suspicious, would not let me get within musket-shot
+of him, and sent his boat to help me. But, when the
+boat was half way, her people made out that we were
+French, and turned to go back; on which, seeing that
+we were discovered, I hoisted my white flag and
+poured my broadside into the frigate.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;She answered with hers; but, not being able to
+sustain my fire, she hauled her wind, and with a signal
+of distress flying, stood to meet the captain&rsquo;s ship,
+which hastily ran down towards us. As they stopped
+to render her assistance, and to pick up her boat, I
+was able to rejoin my prizes, and, without misadventure,
+to take them to Port Louis.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Again France rang with acclaim for the hero of
+this bold exploit, and again the King offered a commission
+to the gallant sea-dog. But Du Guay-Trouin
+shook his head.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Perhaps I will become an officer in the Royal
+Marine later on,&rdquo; said he. &ldquo;But not now. I am too
+happy and successful as a Privateer.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg&nbsp;131]</a></span>
+He was quite right, for in March, 1697, was his
+greatest exploit.</p>
+
+<p>While busily scanning the horizon for sail in the
+<i>St. Jacques des Victoires</i>, upon the thirteenth day of
+that auspicious month, he saw upon the horizon, a
+cluster of vessels. They drew near and proved to be
+the Dutch East India fleet convoyed by two fifty-gun
+ships and a thirty-gun sloop-of-war. With him was
+the <i>Sans-Pareil</i> of forty-eight guns, and the little
+sloop-of-war <i>Lenore</i>, mounting fourteen. The hostile
+squadron was formidable, and Du Guay-Trouin
+hesitated to attack.</p>
+
+<p>In command of the Dutch vessels was Baron van
+Wassenaer, one of a family of famous sea-fighters
+from Holland, and he man&oelig;uvred his ships with consummate
+skill; always interposing his own vessel between
+the French privateer and his fleet of merchantmen.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ah-ha,&rdquo; cried gallant R&eacute;nee, at this moment.
+&ldquo;Here come some of my own boys.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>And&mdash;sure enough&mdash;from the direction of France,
+and boiling along under full canvas, rolled two privateersmen
+of St. Malo. Cheer after cheer went up
+from the deck of the <i>St. Jacques des Victoires</i>, as they
+pounded through the spray, for this made the contending
+parties about equal, although the Dutch boats
+were larger, heavier, and they had more guns aboard.</p>
+
+<p>The Dutchmen now formed in line. In front was
+the flagship&mdash;the <i>Delft</i>&mdash;with her fifty guns glowering
+ominously from the port-holes; second was the
+thirty-gun frigate; and third, the other war-hound
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg&nbsp;132]</a></span>
+of fifty guns: the <i>Hondslaardjiik</i>. Through a trumpet
+Du Guay-Trouin shrilled his orders.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The <i>Sans-Pareil</i> will attack the <i>Hondslaardjiik</i>,&rdquo;
+cried he. &ldquo;The two privateers will hammer the frigate,
+while I and the <i>St. Jacques des Victoires</i> will
+attend to the <i>Delft</i>. The <i>Lenore</i> will sail in among
+the convoy. Fight, and fight to win!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>A fine breeze rippled the waves. The two squadrons
+were soon at each others&rsquo; throats, and there upon
+the sobbing ocean a sea-fight took place which was
+one of the most stubborn of the ages.</p>
+
+<p>As the Frenchmen closed in upon the Dutch, the
+<i>Hondslaardjiik</i> suddenly left the line and crashed a
+broadside into the <i>St. Jacques des Victoires</i>. It staggered
+her, but she kept on, and&mdash;heading straight for
+her lumbering antagonist&mdash;ran her down. A splitting
+of timber, a crunch of boards, a growl of musketry,
+and, with a wild cheer, the Frenchmen leaped
+upon the deck of the Dutch warship; Du Guay-Trouin
+in the lead, a cutlass in his right hand, a spitting
+pistol in the left.</p>
+
+<p><em>Crash! Crackle! Crash!</em> An irregular fire of
+muskets and pistols sputtered at the on-coming boarders.
+But they were not to be stopped. With fierce,
+vindictive cheers the privateers of St. Malo hewed a
+passage of blood across the decking, driving the
+Dutchmen below, felling them upon the deck in windrows,
+and seizing the commander himself by the coat
+collar, after his cutlass had been knocked from his
+stalwart hand. The Dutchman was soon a prize, and
+her proud ensign came fluttering to the decking.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg&nbsp;133]</a></span>
+But things were not going so well in other quarters.
+Disaster had attended the dash of the <i>Sans-Pareil</i>
+upon the <i>Delft</i>. An exploding shell had set her
+afire and she lay derelict with a cloud of drifting
+smoke above, when suddenly, <em>Crash!</em></p>
+
+<p>A terrible explosion shook the staunch, little vessel,
+her sides belched outward, and a number of sailors
+came shooting through the air, for a dozen loose
+cartridge boxes had been caught by the roaring flames.
+Helplessly she lolled in the sweep of the gray, lurching
+billows.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Hah!&rdquo; shouted Van Wassenaer, as he saw his
+work. &ldquo;Now for the saucy Du Guay-Trouin,&rdquo; and,
+twisting the helm of the <i>Sans-Pareil</i>, he soon neared
+the <i>St. Jacques des Victoires</i>, which was hanging to
+the <i>Delft</i> like a leech, firing broadside after broadside
+with clock-like precision, her sea-dogs cheering as
+the spars crackled, the rigging tore; and splinters
+ricochetted from her sides.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ready about!&rdquo; cried R&eacute;nee, wiping the sweat
+from his brow, &ldquo;and board the <i>Hondslaardjiik</i>.
+Now for Van Wassenaer and let us show the
+Dutchman how a privateer from St. Malo can
+battle.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>So, luffing around in the steady breeze, the privateersman
+rolled ominously towards the lolling <i>Delft</i>.
+A crash, a sputter of pistols, a crushing of timber, and
+grappling hooks had pinioned the two war-dogs in a
+sinister embrace. And&mdash;with a wild yell&mdash;the
+Frenchmen plunged upon the reddened decking of the
+flagship of the courageous Van Wassenaer, who cried,
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg&nbsp;134]</a></span>
+&ldquo;Never give in, Lads! What will they think of this
+in Holland!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>There was a different reception than when the privateers
+rushed the <i>Hondslaardjiik</i>. The Dutch fought
+like wildcats. Three times the cheering, bleeding
+Frenchmen stormed the planking, and three times
+they were hurled back upon the slippery deck of their
+own ship; maddened, cursing, furious at their inability
+to take the foreigner. &ldquo;The conflict was very
+bloody both by the very heavy fire on both sides, of
+guns, muskets, and grenades,&rdquo; says Du Guay-Trouin,
+&ldquo;and by the splendid courage of the Baron Van
+Wassenaer, who received me with astonishing boldness.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Bear away,&rdquo; ordered the courageous Dutchman,
+at this juncture. &ldquo;We must have time to recover and
+refit our ship.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>And&mdash;suiting the action to his words&mdash;the
+badly battered <i>Delft</i> filled, and crept well to leeward.</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile the two privateers of St. Malo had captured
+the frigate as she lay helpless; a white flag
+beckoning for a prize crew.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The <i>Faluere</i> will attack the <i>Delft</i>,&rdquo; shouted Du
+Guay-Trouin, running near the largest of these; a
+ship of thirty-eight guns. &ldquo;I must have time to
+breathe and to refit.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>But stubborn Van Wassenaer was ready for his new
+antagonist. He received the privateer with such a
+furious fire that she turned tail and fled to leeward;
+her captain bleeding upon the poop, her crew cursing
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg&nbsp;135]</a></span>
+the blood which ran in the veins of the valorous
+Hollander.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;">
+<a name="combat" id="combat"></a>
+<img src="images/fpas11.jpg" width="600" height="388" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">COMBAT BETWEEN DU GUAY-TROUIN AND VAN WASSENAER.</p>
+
+<p>Du Guay-Trouin had now recovered his breath.
+Again the bellying canvas of the <i>St. Jacques des
+Victoires</i> bore her down upon the <i>Delft</i>, and again
+the two war-dogs wrapped in deadly embrace. Hear
+the invincible Frenchman&rsquo;s own account of the final
+assault:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;With head down,&rdquo; he writes, &ldquo;I rushed against
+the redoubtable Baron, resolved to conquer or to
+perish. The last action was so sharp and so bloody
+that every one of the Dutch officers was killed or
+wounded. Wassenaer, himself, received four dangerous
+wounds and fell on his quarterdeck, where he was
+seized by my own brave fellows, his sword still in his
+hand.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The <i>Faluere</i> had her share in the engagement, running
+alongside of me, and sending me forty men on
+board for reinforcement. More than half of my own
+crew perished in this action. I lost in it one of my
+cousins, first Lieutenant of my own ship, and two
+other kinsmen on board the <i>Sans-Pareil</i>, with many
+other officers killed or wounded. It was an awful
+butchery.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>But at last he had won, and the victorious pennon
+of the Privateer fluttered triumphant over the battered
+hulks which barely floated upon the spar-strewn
+water.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The horrors of the night,&rdquo; he writes, &ldquo;the dead
+and dying below, the ship scarcely floating, the swelling
+waves threatening each moment to engulf her, the
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg&nbsp;136]</a></span>
+wild howling of the storm, and the iron-bound coast
+of Bretagne to leeward, were all together such as to
+try severely the courage of the few remaining officers
+and men.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;At daybreak, however, the wind went down; we
+found ourselves near the Breton coast; and, upon
+our firing guns and making signals of distress, a number
+of boats came to our assistance. In this manner
+was the <i>St. Jacques</i> taken into Port Louis, followed in
+the course of the day by the three Dutch ships-of-war,
+twelve of the merchant ships, the <i>Lenore</i>, and
+the two St. Malo privateers. The <i>Sans-Pareil</i> did not
+get in till the next day, after having been twenty times
+upon the point of perishing by fire and tempest.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Thus ended the great fight of R&eacute;nee Du Guay-Trouin,
+whose blood, you see, was quite as blue as
+his breeches.</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<p>&ldquo;Again,&rdquo; wrote His Majesty the King, &ldquo;do I offer
+you a commission in the Royal Navy, Du Guay-Trouin.
+Will you accept? This time it is a Captaincy.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I do,&rdquo; replied little R&eacute;nee,&mdash;quite simply&mdash;and,
+at the next dinner of the officers of the Royal Marines,
+they sang a chorus, which ran:</p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;Oh, yes, he&rsquo;s only a Democrat, his blood is hardly blue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, Sacre Nom de Dieu! Sapristi! Eet is true!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But he&rsquo;s a jolly tar dog, with dirk and pistol, too,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He fights like William the Conqueror, he fights!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Egad! that&rsquo;s true!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A health to R&eacute;nee the terrible; soldier and sailor too.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<a name="Page_137" id="Page_137"><!-- unnumbered title page --></a>
+<p><span class='pagenum'></span></p>
+
+<h2>EDWARD ENGLAND<br />
+<br />
+TERROR OF THE SOUTH SEAS<br />
+<br />
+(1690?-<i>about</i> 1725)</h2>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg&nbsp;138]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;A Privateer&rsquo;s not a Buccaneer, but they&rsquo;re pretty chummy friends,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">One flies a reg&rsquo;lar ensign, there&rsquo;s nothing that offends.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">One sails &rsquo;neath Letters Legal, t&rsquo;other &rsquo;neath Cross-Bones,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But, both will sink you, Sailor, or my name&rsquo;s not Davy Jones.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class="author">&mdash;<i>Old Ballad.</i></p>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg&nbsp;139]</a></span></p>
+
+<p class="center padtop">EDWARD ENGLAND<br />
+TERROR OF THE SOUTH SEAS<br />
+(1690?-<i>about</i> 1725)</p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;If England wuz but wind an&rsquo; paint,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How we&rsquo;d hate him.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">But he ain&rsquo;t.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class="author">&mdash;<i>Log of the Royal James.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="dropcap">H</span>IT him with a bottle, he deserves it, th&rsquo;
+brute!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The man who spoke was a thick-set sailor
+of some forty-five summers, with a swarthy skin, a
+brownish mat of hair, a hard visage, and a cut across
+one eye. He stood upon the deck of a good-sized
+brig, which was drowsily lolling along the coast of
+Africa.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, he treated us like dogs aboard th&rsquo; <i>Cuttlefish</i>.
+Here, give me a shot at &rsquo;im.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Thus cried another sailor&mdash;a toughish customer
+also&mdash;and, as his voice rang out, a dozen more came
+running to the spot.</p>
+
+<p>Cringing before the evil gaze of the seamen stood
+the Captain of a Bristol merchantman&mdash;the <i>Cadogan</i>&mdash;which
+lay a boat&rsquo;s length away, upon the glassy
+surface of a rocking sea.</p>
+
+<p>Again rang out the harsh tones of him who had
+first spoken.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg&nbsp;140]</a></span>
+&ldquo;Ah, Captain Skinner, it is you, eh? You are the
+very person I wished to see. I am much in your debt,
+and I shall pay you in your own coin.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The poor Captain trembled in every joint, and said,
+with a curious chattering of his teeth,</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, Edward England, you&rsquo;ve got me now. But
+go easy like, will yer? I always was a friend o&rsquo;
+yourn.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yer didn&rsquo;t look like a friend on th&rsquo; old <i>Jamaica</i>,
+when you refused to pay me my wages,&rdquo; interrupted
+the first speaker. &ldquo;Yer didn&rsquo;t remove me to &rsquo;er cursed
+man-o&rsquo;-warsman, did yer? Yer didn&rsquo;t see that I got
+th&rsquo; cat-o&rsquo;-nine-tails on my back, did yer? Now,
+Mr. Skinner, it&rsquo;s my chance ter get even. Tie
+him ter th&rsquo; windlass, boys, and we&rsquo;ll fix th&rsquo; feller&rsquo;s
+hash.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>With a jeering laugh the sailors seized the frightened
+man, roped him tightly to the desired prop, and,
+procuring a lot of glass bottles, pelted him with them
+until their arms were tired.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You wuz a good master to me, Captain Skinner,&rdquo;
+cried one. &ldquo;Now you&rsquo;re gettin&rsquo; a dose of your own
+medicine. Overboard with him, Boys.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>And, suiting the action to the words, he seized him
+by the collar. The ropes were unwound. The poor
+wretch was dragged to the rail, and, as his body spun
+out into the oily sea, a shot ended the life of poor
+Thomas Skinner of the <i>Cadogan</i> from Bristol. Captain
+Edward England and his men had had a sweet
+and sure revenge.</p>
+
+<p>Where this reckless mariner was born, it is difficult
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg&nbsp;141]</a></span>
+to ascertain. We know that he started life honestly
+enough, for he was mate of a sloop that sailed
+from Jamaica, about the year 1715, and was taken
+by a pirate called Captain Winter. The youthful
+sailor soon took up the careless ways of his captors,
+and it was not many years before he became Captain
+of his own vessel: a sloop flying the black flag with
+a skull and cross-bones.</p>
+
+<p>Off the east coast of Africa he soon took a ship
+called the <i>Pearl</i>, for which he exchanged his own
+sloop, fitting the new vessel up for piratical service,
+after rechristening her the <i>Royal James</i>. Cruising
+about in this staunch craft, he captured several ships
+of different sizes and flying the flags of many nations.
+He was rich and prosperous.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Captain,&rdquo; said one of his reckless followers, at
+this time, &ldquo;man-o&rsquo;-warsmen are gettin&rsquo; too thick in
+these parts for an honest sailor. Let&rsquo;s get across th&rsquo;
+pond to th&rsquo; Brazilian coast.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You&rsquo;re quite right,&rdquo; answered England. &ldquo;We&rsquo;ve
+got to look for other pickings. After we provision-up,
+we&rsquo;ll sail towards th&rsquo; setting sun. That&rsquo;s a fresh field
+and we can have it to ourselves.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>So all made ready for a trans-Atlantic voyage.</p>
+
+<p>But Captain England was in error when he said
+that he was sailing for fields which had never before
+been touched. Two other piratical vessels: the <i>Revenge</i>
+and the <i>Flying King</i>, had been cruising off the
+coast of Brazil, just before his advent. Fighting in
+partnership, they had taken two Portuguese schooners,
+and were making off with them, when a Portuguese
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg&nbsp;142]</a></span>
+man-o&rsquo;-warsman came booming along under full canvas.
+She was an unwelcome guest.</p>
+
+<p>Setting all sail the two pirates had attempted to
+get away and the <i>Revenge</i> succeeded in doing so.
+Two days later a typhoon struck her and she was
+soon swinging bottom upwards, with the kittiwakes
+shrieking over her barnacled keel.</p>
+
+<p>But the revengeful man-o&rsquo;-warsman ploughed relentlessly
+after the <i>Flying King</i>, which could not fly
+quite fast enough, this time, and&mdash;in despair&mdash;was
+run, bows on, upon the shore, where the crew scrambled
+to the sand in a desperate endeavor to get away.
+The sailors from the man-o&rsquo;-warsman were speedy;
+they shot twelve of the buccaneers, took the rest
+prisoners (there were seventy in all) and hanged
+thirty-eight to the yard-arm. News of this came to
+Captain England when he neared the tropic coast of
+Brazil.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It&rsquo;s all in a life-time,&rdquo; said he. &ldquo;If I&rsquo;m captured,
+of course I&rsquo;ll swing. But, meanwhile, I hope to have
+a good life.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Not many days afterwards he heard the welcome
+sound of:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Sail ho! Off the port bow!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>And raising the glass to his eye discovered
+two fat, prosperous-looking merchant ships, slipping
+quietly along like an old maid fresh from market.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Slap on all sail and give chase!&rdquo; was bellowed
+out in stentorian tones, and the <i>Royal James</i> was
+soon fairly boiling along with every stitch aloft, which
+she could carry.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg&nbsp;143]</a></span>
+As she neared the merchantmen, the names came
+plainly to view: the <i>Peterborough</i> of Bristol, and the
+<i>Victory</i> of Liverpool, but a shot screamed across the
+bowsprit of the latter and victory was turned into
+defeat. A white flag was fluttering at her mainmast
+in a moment, for the Captain had no stomach for a
+fight.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Egad, it&rsquo;s a pirate,&rdquo; said the good seaman in
+despair, as the black flag with the skull and cross-bones
+fluttered from the rigging of his capturer. &ldquo;I
+thought she was a privateersman under Letters of
+Marque. It&rsquo;s all up with us.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>As the boat-load of boarders came bobbing alongside
+he cried out,</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Mercy! Have mercy upon the souls of these poor
+wretches who sail with me.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The pirates guffawed, helped themselves to everything
+of value, and took the merchantmen with them
+to the coast of Brazil, where the crew were allowed
+to escape to the shore. The <i>Peterborough</i> was re-christened
+the <i>Victory</i> and was manned by half of
+England&rsquo;s crew, while the other vessel was burned at
+night; the pirates dancing on the beach to the light
+of the flames and singing the weird songs of the sea.</p>
+
+<p>Now there was a scene of wild revel upon the Brazilian
+coast; but the natives grew angry at the conduct
+of these rough men of the ocean.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ugh!&rdquo; spoke a chief, &ldquo;we must drive them away,
+else they will burn our own villages as they did their
+houses upon the water.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>One peaceful evening the followers of Captain
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg&nbsp;144]</a></span>
+England were hard beset by fully a thousand black-skinned
+warriors from the Brazilian jungle.</p>
+
+<p>There was a fierce battle. The negroes were pressed
+back upon their principal town and were driven
+through it on the run, for their arrows and spears
+were not as effective as the guns and pistols of the
+English, Dutch, Spaniards and Portuguese, who had
+adopted a piratical career. Their thatched huts were
+set on fire, and, satisfied with the day&rsquo;s work, the
+pirates retired to their ships, where a vote was cast
+where was to be their next venture. It fell to the
+East Indies and the Island of Madagascar. So they
+set sail, singing an old ballad which ran,</p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;Heave the lead and splice th&rsquo; topsail,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Tie her down, and let her fill,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We&rsquo;re agoin&rsquo; to Madagascar,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where th&rsquo; little tom-tits trill,<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;Bill an&rsquo; coo, an&rsquo; sing so sweetly,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In th&rsquo; dronin&rsquo; hours of noon,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That you want to die there, neatly,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Just drop off into &rsquo;er swoon.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p>The voyage across was a good one and the pirates
+captured two East Indiamen and a Dutchman, bound
+to Bombay. These they exchanged for one of their
+own vessels, and then set out for Madagascar Island,
+where several of their hands were set ashore with
+tents and ammunition, to kill such beasts and venison
+as the place afforded.</p>
+
+<p>Then they sailed for the Isle of Juanna,&mdash;not a
+great distance from Madagascar,&mdash;and here had as
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg&nbsp;145]</a></span>
+keen a little engagement as ever employed a piratical
+crew. Hear the story of this fight in the words of
+Captain Mackra, an English sea-captain who happened
+at that time to be in the harbor.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p class="address">&ldquo;<span class="smcap">Bombay</span>, November 16th, 1720.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We arrived on the 25th of July last, in company
+with the <i>Greenwich</i>, at Juanna, an island not far from
+Madagascar. Putting in there to refresh our men,
+we found fourteen pirates who came in their canoes
+from the Mayotta (island) where the pirate ship to
+which they belonged, the <i>Indian Queen</i>&mdash;two hundred
+and fifty tons, twenty-eight guns, commanded by
+Captain Oliver de la Bouche, bound from the Guinea
+coast to the East Indies&mdash;had been bulged (run
+ashore) and lost. They said they left the Captain
+and forty men building a new vessel, to proceed upon
+their wicked designs.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Captain Kirby and I concluding that it might be
+of great service to the East India Company to destroy
+such a nest of rogues, were ready to sail for this
+purpose on the 17th of August, about eight o&rsquo;clock
+in the morning, when we discovered two pirates standing
+into the Bay of Juanna, one of thirty-four and
+the other of thirty-six guns.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I immediately went on board the <i>Greenwich</i> where
+they seemed very diligent in preparation for an engagement,
+and I left Captain Kirby with mutual
+understanding of standing by each other. I then unmoored,
+got under sail, and brought two boats ahead
+to row me close to the <i>Greenwich</i>; but he being open
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg&nbsp;146]</a></span>
+to a breeze, made the best of his way from me; which
+an Ostender in our company of twenty-two guns,
+seeing, did the same, though the Captain had promised
+heartily to engage with us, and, I believe would
+have been as good as his word, if Captain Kirby had
+kept his.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;About half an hour after twelve, I called several
+times to the <i>Greenwich</i> to bear down to our assistance,
+and fired a shot at him, but to no purpose; for, though
+we did not doubt but he would join us, because, when
+he got about a league from us he brought his ship
+to and looked on; yet both he and the Ostender basely
+deserted us, and left us engaged with barbarous and
+inhuman enemies, with their black and bloody flags
+hanging over us, without the least appearance of ever
+escaping, but to be cut to pieces.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But God in his good providence, determined
+otherwise; for, notwithstanding their superiority, we
+engaged them both about three hours, during which
+time the biggest of them received some shot betwixt
+wind and water, which made her keep a little off, to
+stop her leaks. The other endeavored all she could
+to board us, by rowing with her oars, being within
+half a ship&rsquo;s length of us about an hour; but, by good
+fortune, we shot all her oars to pieces, which prevented
+them from getting in close, and consequently saved our
+lives.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 407px;">
+<a name="left_us_engaged" id="left_us_engaged"></a>
+<img src="images/fpas12.jpg" width="407" height="600" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">&ldquo;&lsquo;LEFT US ENGAGED WITH BARBAROUS AND INHUMAN ENEMIES.&rsquo;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>&ldquo;About four o&rsquo;clock most of the officers and men
+posted on the quarter-deck being killed and wounded,
+the largest ship made up to us with diligence, after
+giving us a broadside. There now being no hopes of
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg&nbsp;147]</a></span>
+Captain Kirby&rsquo;s coming to our assistance, we endeavored
+to run ashore; and though we drew four feet
+of water more than the pirate, it pleased God that he
+stuck fast on a higher ground than happily we fell in
+with; so was disappointed a second time from boarding
+us.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Here we had a more violent engagement than
+before. All of my officers and most of my men behaved
+with unexpected courage; and, as we had a
+considerable advantage by having a chance to hurl a
+broadside into his bow, we did him great damage.
+Had Captain Kirby come in then, I believe we should
+have taken both the vessels, for we had one of them,
+sure.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The other pirate (who was still firing at us) seeing
+the <i>Greenwich</i> did not offer to assist us, supplied
+his consort with three boats full of fresh men. About
+five in the evening the <i>Greenwich</i> stood clear away to
+sea, leaving us struggling hard for life, in the very
+jaws of death; which the other pirate that was afloat,
+seeing, got a hawser out, and began to haul under our
+stern.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;By this time many of my men were being killed
+and wounded, and no hopes left us of escaping being
+all murdered by enraged barbarous conquerors, I ordered
+all that could to get into the long-boat, under
+the cover of the smoke from our guns; so that, with
+what some did in boats, and others by swimming, most
+of us that were able got ashore by seven o&rsquo;clock.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;When the pirates came aboard, they cut three of
+our wounded men to pieces. I, with some of my
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg&nbsp;148]</a></span>
+people, made what haste I could to Kings-town,
+twenty-five miles from us; where I arrived next day,
+almost dead with the fatigue and loss of blood, having
+been sorely wounded in the head by a musket-ball.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;At this town I heard that the pirates had offered
+ten thousand dollars to the country people to bring
+me in, which many of them would have accepted, only
+they knew that the king and all his chief people were
+in my interest. Meanwhile I caused a report to be
+circulated that I was dead of my wounds, which much
+abated their fury.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We had, in all, thirteen killed and twenty-four
+wounded; and we were told that we destroyed about
+ninety, or a hundred, of the pirates. I am persuaded
+that, had our consort the <i>Greenwich</i> done her duty,
+we could have destroyed both of them, and got two
+hundred thousand pounds ($1,000,000.00) for our
+owners and ourselves.&rdquo;</p></div>
+
+<p>What say you to this fight? And to think that our
+own good friend Captain Mackra just missed being
+a millionaire! Weep for the gallant sea warrior!</p>
+
+<p>At any rate he got safely away, for, at length going
+aboard one of the piratical vessels,&mdash;under a flag
+of truce&mdash;he discovered that several of the wild sea-robbers
+knew him; some of them&mdash;even&mdash;had
+sailed with him in earlier years.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I found this to be of great advantage,&rdquo; he writes.
+&ldquo;For, notwithstanding their promise not to harm me,
+some of them would have cut me to pieces, had it not
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg&nbsp;149]</a></span>
+been for their chief, Captain Edward England, and
+some others whom I knew.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>And he used his powers of persuasion to such effect
+that: &ldquo;They made me a present of the shattered ship&mdash;which
+was Dutch built&mdash;called the <i>Fancy</i>, her
+burden being about three hundred tons.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;With jury-masts, and such other old sails as they
+left me, I set sail on September 8th, with forty-three
+of my ship&rsquo;s crew, including two passengers and
+twelve soldiers. After a passage of forty-eight days
+I arrived at Bombay on the 26th of October, almost
+naked and starved, having been reduced to a pint of
+water a day, and almost in despair of ever seeing
+land, by reason of the calms we met with between the
+coast of Arabia and Malabar.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The gallant writer of this interesting description
+was certainly in imminent danger of his life, when he
+trusted himself upon the pirate ship, and unquestionably
+nothing could have justified such a hazardous
+step but the desperate circumstances in which he was
+placed. The honor and influence of Captain England,
+however, protected him and his men from the wrath
+of the crew, who would willingly have wreaked their
+vengeance upon those who had dealt them such heavy
+blows in the recent fight.</p>
+
+<p>But the generosity of Captain England toward the
+unfortunate Mackra proved to be calamitous to himself.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You are no true pirate,&rdquo; cried one of his crew.
+&ldquo;For a buccaneer never allows his foes to get away.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No! No!&rdquo; shouted others. &ldquo;This fighting
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg&nbsp;150]</a></span>
+Mackra will soon come against us with a strong force.
+You did wrong in letting him escape.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;To the yard-arm with the traitor!&rdquo; sounded from
+the throat of many a ruffianly seaman.</p>
+
+<p>Thus grew the feeling of mutiny&mdash;and the result
+of these murmurs of discontent&mdash;was that Captain
+England was put ashore by the cruel villains; and,
+with three others was marooned upon the island of
+Mauritius. Had they not been destitute of every
+necessity they might have been able to live in comfort,
+for the island abounds in deer, hogs, and other animals.
+Dissatisfied, however, with this solitary situation,
+Captain England and his three men exerted their
+industry and ingenuity, built a small boat, and sailed
+to Madagascar, where they lived upon the generosity
+of some more fortunate piratical companions.</p>
+
+<p>But can a pirate remain happy when not pirating?</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Away with this life,&rdquo; cried Captain England. &ldquo;I
+pine for more treasure and for battle. Let&rsquo;s out and
+to sea!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Good! Good!&rdquo; said his mates. &ldquo;Let&rsquo;s ship
+aboard another vessel and get away from here.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>So, they again took to the ocean, but what became
+of Edward England is not known.</p>
+
+<p>Some say that he was killed in a brawl; some that
+he was again marooned and was adopted by a savage
+tribe; some that he perished in a fight upon the Indian
+Ocean. At any rate that rough and valiant soul
+is lost to history, and&mdash;somewhere&mdash;in the vast
+solitude of the Southern Hemisphere, lie the bleaching
+bones of him who had flaunted the skull-and-cross-bones
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg&nbsp;151]</a></span>
+upon the wide highway of the gleaming wastes
+of salty brine. His was a rough and careless life.
+Do not emulate the career of Edward England!</p>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Near the straits of Madagascar; near the sobbing oceans&rsquo; roar,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A ghostly shape glides nightly, by the beady, kelp-strewn shore.&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As the Cubic monkeys chatter; as the Bulbul lizards hiss,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Comes a clear and quiet murmur, like a Zulu lover&rsquo;s kiss.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The flying-fishes scatter; the chattering magpies scream,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The topaz hummers dart and dip; their jewelled feathers gleam.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The mud-grimed hippos bellow; the dove-eyed elands bleat,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When the clank of steel disturbs them, and the beat of sandalled feet.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The pirate crew is out to-night, no rest is for their souls,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The blood of martyrs moves them; they charge a million tolls.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On! On! Their souls must hasten. On! On! Their shapes must go,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While the limpid rushes quiver, and the beast-lapped waters glow.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No rest for Captain England. No rest, for King or pawn,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On! On! Their feet must wander. On! On! Forever on!<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg&nbsp;152]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>SONG OF THE PIRATE</h2>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;To the mast nail our flag! it is dark as the grave,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or the death which it bears while it sweeps o&rsquo;er the wave;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Let our decks clear for action, our guns be prepared;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Be the boarding-axe sharpened, the scimetar bared:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Set the canisters ready, and then bring to me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For the last of my duties, the powder-room key.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It shall never be lowered, the black flag we bear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If the sea be denied us, we sweep through the air.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Unshared have we left our last victory&rsquo;s prey;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It is mine to divide it, and yours to obey:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There are shawls that might suit a Sultana&rsquo;s white neck,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And pearls that are fair as the arms they will deck;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There are flasks which, unseal them, the air will disclose<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Diametta&rsquo;s fair summers, the home of the rose.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I claim not a portion: I ask but as mine&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But to drink to our victory&mdash;one cup of red wine.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Some fight, &rsquo;tis for riches&mdash;some fight, &rsquo;tis for fame:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The first I despise, and the last is a name.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I fight &rsquo;tis for vengeance! I love to see flow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">At the stroke of my sabre, the life of my foe.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I strike for the memory of long-vanished years;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I only shed blood where another sheds tears,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I come, as the lightning comes red from above,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O&rsquo;er the race that I loathe, to the battle I love.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<a name="Page_153" id="Page_153"><!-- unnumbered title page --></a>
+<p><span class='pagenum'></span></p>
+
+<h2>WOODES ROGERS<br />
+<br />
+THE BRISTOL MARINER<br />
+<br />
+(?-1736)</h2>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg&nbsp;154]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>&ldquo;If you want to win a lass, or a sea fight; don&rsquo;t cajole. Sail in!&rdquo;&mdash;<i>Old
+Proverb.</i></p>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg&nbsp;155]</a></span></p>
+
+<p class="center padtop">WOODES ROGERS<br />
+THE BRISTOL MARINER<br />
+(?-1736)</p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">For he can fight a Spaniard, like a Tipperary cat,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For he can sack a city, like a <em>blawsted</em>, rangy rat;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Woodes Rogers was a Gentleman, from Bristol-town he sailed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An&rsquo; his crew came from th&rsquo; prisons, an&rsquo; were<br /></span>
+<span class="i17">Bailed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i19">Bailed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i21">Bailed.<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p><span class="dropcap">Y</span>ES, you can have the <i>Duke</i> and the <i>Duchess</i>.
+They are both staunch craft and we expect
+to get a good return for our investment in
+them.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The fellow who spoke&mdash;a stout-bodied Quaker&mdash;looked
+quizzically at a bronzed sea-captain, who, cap
+in hand, stood before him. By his side were seated
+a number of merchants, fat, sleek, contented-looking.
+They were giving instructions to Captain Woodes
+Rogers: their privateersman, who was about to make
+a voyage of adventure in their behalf.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;My good friends,&rdquo; said the mariner, &ldquo;I shall do
+my very best for you all. The French and Spaniards
+have been having it all their own way in the South
+seas. It is about time that the English had a share in
+the rich spoils of that treasure highway. I shall work
+my hardest for you.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg&nbsp;156]</a></span>
+The merchants, ship-owners and Quakers nodded.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;May Providence guide your course aright,&rdquo; said
+they. And&mdash;as Captain Woodes Rogers went off to
+inspect his privateersmen&mdash;all indulged in a glass of
+Madeira to pledge &ldquo;good luck and good health&rdquo; to the
+staunch seaman from Bristol.</p>
+
+<p>It was not many weeks before the <i>Duke</i> (of three
+hundred and twenty tons) with thirty guns and one
+hundred and seventeen men, and the <i>Duchess</i> (of two
+hundred and sixty tons) with twenty-six guns and one
+hundred and eight men, sailed from King Road for
+Cork, in Ireland.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Egad!&rdquo; cried Captain Rogers, as they passed out
+to sea. &ldquo;Our rigging is slack. Our decks are
+lumbered up. Our stores are badly stowed. Our crew
+is so very mixed that I must stop in Ireland to get more
+able sea-dogs. Was ever captain in a worse fix?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>His Lieutenants grinned, for they saw that things
+were in a sorry mess, indeed.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Most of us have embraced this trip around the
+world in order to retrieve our fortunes,&rdquo; continued
+the captain. &ldquo;Did you ever see a harder crew than
+this? There are tinkers, tailors, haymakers, peddlers,
+fiddlers, a negro and ten boys. None know how to use
+the cutlass and they haven&rsquo;t got any sea-legs. Well,
+well; I&rsquo;ll make the best of it, but it&rsquo;s hard goin&rsquo;, I
+assure you.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>And still the Lieutenants grinned.</p>
+
+<p>They grinned still more when they had lain a few
+days at Cork, for the crew were continually marrying,
+although they expected to sail immediately. However,
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg&nbsp;157]</a></span>
+as the two privateers got under way on September 1st,&mdash;with
+the <i>Hastings</i>, a man-of-war&mdash;the majority of
+the crew drank a health to their spouses; waved their
+hands to them over the rail; and &ldquo;parted unconcerned.&rdquo;
+Truly, a sailor has a lass in every port.</p>
+
+<p>Not many days after their out-going, a sail was
+sighted and all speed was made to capture her. The
+Swedish colors fluttered from her mast-head, and she
+hove to at the first gun. Rogers boarded.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No contraband goods are here,&rdquo; said he, after
+looking into the hold. &ldquo;We must let her off.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Then&mdash;turning to her captain&mdash;he said,</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You can go. I am not a pirate&mdash;but a privateer&mdash;sailing
+under Letters of Marque. I only seize goods
+that are contraband.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Bobbing and courtesying on the waves, the little
+Swede soon drifted from view.</p>
+
+<p>But the crew grew mutinous,&mdash;for had they not
+come out for plunder? The boatswain even called
+Rogers a traitor.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Seize the fellow and flog him,&rdquo; cried the sturdy
+captain. &ldquo;Put ten of these talkative hounds in irons.
+We&rsquo;ll do the talking on this boat, and the sailors must
+do theirs in the fo&rsquo;castle.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>This was done immediately.</p>
+
+<p>Next day a seaman came aft, with near half the
+ship&rsquo;s company in his rear, and cried:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I demand the boatswain out of his irons, Captain
+Rogers. He&rsquo;s done nothing to deserve such a severe
+punishment.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Speak with me privately, on the quarter-deck,&rdquo;
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg&nbsp;158]</a></span>
+said the bluff commander. &ldquo;I cannot discuss this
+matter with you in such a crowd.&rdquo; And he moved aft.</p>
+
+<p>The grumbler followed, but, no sooner was he alone
+with stout Woodes, than the captain sprang upon him
+with the agility of a leopard. He was thrown to the
+ground, held, and bound by two officers. Then he was
+stripped and whipped until the blood ran.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;This method,&rdquo; writes the doughty Woodes, &ldquo;I
+deemed best for breaking any unlawful friendship
+among the mutinous crew. It allayed the tumult, so
+that they began to submit quietly and those in irons
+begged my pardon, and promised amendment.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Thus the captain had won the first round with the
+mutineers.</p>
+
+<p>Now, know you, that the War of the Spanish Succession
+was then in progress; a war in which one party
+was endeavoring to put the Archduke Charles of Austria
+upon the Spanish throne; another to place Philip,
+grandson of Louis XIV of France, in the chair of the
+rulers. And when&mdash;a few days later&mdash;the two privateers
+captured a small Spanish vessel, they found that
+their possession of it was disputed, when they sailed
+into the Canaries.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It has been agreed between Queen Anne of England
+and the Kings of Spain and France,&rdquo; said the
+Vice-Consul of that place&mdash;an Englishman&mdash;&ldquo;that
+all vessels trading to the Canary Isles shall be exempt
+from interference by men-o&rsquo;-war, or privateers. The
+prize must be released. If you do not do so, we will
+keep your agent, Mr. Vanbrugh, who has come ashore,
+and will throw him into irons.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg&nbsp;159]</a></span>
+But the Vice-Consul had reckoned without his host.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We are apprehensive that you are obliged to give
+us this advice in order to gratify the Spaniards,&rdquo; wrote
+Captain Rogers. &ldquo;If you do not allow my agent to
+come on board my ship, you may expect a visit from
+my guns at eight o&rsquo;clock to-morrow morn.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>To this there was no reply.</p>
+
+<p>Next day the two English privateers stood in close
+to shore, and, just as the shot was rammed home, a
+boat put off, in the stern of which sat Mr. Vanbrugh
+with a present of wine, grapes, hogs and jelly. The
+prize which had been captured was sent back to Bristol
+with a picked crew.</p>
+
+<p>The two sea-rovers bore towards the South&mdash;soon
+crossed the Tropic of Cancer&mdash;and there had appropriate
+ceremonies for the occasion. The tinkers, peddlers,
+fiddlers, and tailors who made up the crew, were
+each and all hoisted overboard by a rope. A stick
+was placed between their legs and they were ducked
+again and again in the brine.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;If any man wants to get off,&rdquo; spoke Captain
+Rogers, &ldquo;he can do so by paying me a half-a-sovereign
+($2.50) which must be expended on an entertainment
+for the rest of the company when England shall be
+reached. Every man that is ducked is paid in proportion
+to the number of times that he goes under.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Several accepted this offer. At which a sailor cried out:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Duck me twelve times, Captain. I want to have
+a regular orgy when I get back home.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>And the sailors did it, laughing uproariously.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg&nbsp;160]</a></span>
+Sailing to the Cape Verde Islands, the <i>Duke</i> and the
+<i>Duchess</i> anchored in the harbor of St. Vincent, where
+one of the crew, who was a good linguist (Joseph
+Alexander) was sent in a boat to the Governor, at
+San Antonio, in order to negotiate for supplies. He
+seemed to prefer Cape Verde to privateering.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;On October 6th,&rdquo; writes the gallant Rogers, &ldquo;our
+boat went to San Antonio to get our linguist, according
+to appointment. No news of him.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;On October 6th, our boat returned with nothing
+but limes and tobacco. No news of our linguist.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;On October 7th, no news of our linguist.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;On the 8th, boat sent ashore, but no news of our
+linguist.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;On the 9th, as the trade-winds are blowing fresh,
+concluded to leave our good Alexander to practice his
+linguistic and other accomplishments ashore. Adieu
+to our linguist.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Thus disappeared the sleek and crafty Joseph.</p>
+
+<p>There was still trouble from insubordination, for
+Mr. Page&mdash;second mate of the <i>Duchess</i>&mdash;refused
+to accompany Mr. Cook (second in command on the
+<i>Duke</i>). Whereupon the hot-tempered Captain Cook&mdash;being
+the superior officer on board&mdash;struck him,
+and several blows were interchanged.</p>
+
+<p>At last Page was forced into the boat and brought
+to the <i>Duke</i>, where he was ordered to the forecastle in
+the bilboes (leg irons sliding upon a long, iron bar).
+But he jumped overboard&mdash;despising the chance of
+being gobbled up by a shark&mdash;and started to swim
+to his own ship. He was brought back, flogged, and
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg&nbsp;161]</a></span>
+put in irons; and he evidently found a week of this
+kind of thing sufficient; for he submitted himself
+humbly to future orders.</p>
+
+<p>Thus Woodes Rogers had already learned that the
+life of a privateer commander was not a happy one.</p>
+
+<p>Steering southwest, a large French ship was seen
+and chased, but she got away from the two consorts
+with surprising ease. On March 6th, when off the
+coast of Peru, a sail was sighted.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Let the <i>Duchess</i> bear down on her port and the
+<i>Duke</i> to starboard,&rdquo; cried Captain Rogers. &ldquo;Heave
+a solid shot across her bow, and, if she refuses to
+capitulate, let her have your broadsides.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Dipping, tossing, rolling; the two privateers
+swooped down upon their prey, like hawks. She
+flew the yellow flag of Spain&mdash;and&mdash;as the first
+ball of lead cut across her bowsprit, it fluttered to the
+deck. Up went a white shirt, tied to a rat-line, and
+the crew from the <i>Duke</i> was soon in charge, and steering
+her for Lobas: a harbor on the coast.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;She&rsquo;s a tight little barque,&rdquo; said Rogers, when
+he had landed. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll make her into a privateer.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>So she was hauled up, cleaned, launched, and
+christened the <i>Beginning</i>; with a spare topmast
+from the <i>Duke</i> as a mast, and an odd mizzen-topsail
+altered for a sail. Four swivel-guns were mounted
+upon her deck, and, as she pounded out of the bay,
+loud cheers greeted her from the decks of the <i>Duchess</i>,
+which was loafing outside, watching for a merchantman
+to capture and pillage.</p>
+
+<p>Next morn two sails were sighted, and both <i>Duke</i>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg&nbsp;162]</a></span>
+and <i>Duchess</i> hastened to make another haul. As they
+neared them, one was seen to be a stout cruiser from
+Lima; the other a French-built barque from Panama;
+richly laden, it was thought.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Broadsides for both,&rdquo; ordered Woodes Rogers.
+&ldquo;Broadsides and good treatment when the white flag
+flutters aloft.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>As the <i>Duchess</i> chased the Lima boat, the <i>Duke</i>
+neared the Frenchman and spanked a shot at her from
+a bow-gun. The sea ran high and she did not wish to
+get too close and board, because it would be easier to
+send her men in pinnaces.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;They&rsquo;re afraid!&rdquo; cried the Captain of the <i>Duke</i>.
+&ldquo;We can take &rsquo;em with no exertion.&rdquo; But he was
+like many an Englishman: despised his foe only to
+find him a valiant one.</p>
+
+<p>Piling into four boats, the men from the <i>Duke</i>, fully
+armed, rowed swiftly towards the rolling Frenchman.
+They approached to within twenty yards. Then</p>
+
+<p><em>Crash! Crash! Rattle! Crash!</em></p>
+
+<p>A sheet of flame burst from her sides; muskets and
+pistols spoke; cannon spat grape and cannister; the
+Englishmen were frightfully cut up.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;On! On!&rdquo; shouted young John Rogers&mdash;a
+brother of Woodes&mdash;as he waved his cutlass aloft
+to enliven the sailors. But it was his last cry. A
+bullet struck him in the forehead, and he fell into the
+sea without a murmur.</p>
+
+<p><em>Crash! Crash!</em></p>
+
+<p>Again roared out a volley. Oars were splintered.
+One boat was pierced below the water line. She sank,
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg&nbsp;163]</a></span>
+and her men floundered about upon the surface of the
+oily sea.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Bear off, and rescue our comrades!&rdquo; cried the
+leaders of this futile attack, and, as the French barque
+drifted away, the remaining boats busied themselves
+with the swimming sailors. The assault had been a
+complete failure.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Curses upon the Frenchman!&rdquo; cried Captain
+Rogers when he saw the saucy fighter drawing off.
+&ldquo;We&rsquo;ll go after her to-morrow, and catch her, or my
+blood&rsquo;s not English. What say you, men?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes. After her and board her amid-ships!&rdquo; cried
+all. &ldquo;Run our own vessel alongside.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And that I will do,&rdquo; answered Rogers, watching
+the lumbering merchantman through his glass. &ldquo;She&rsquo;s
+entirely too well armed for a trader.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>When morning dawned, the Frenchman was still
+ploughing along the coast in the light breeze, with all
+sail set. But there was not wind enough to force her
+ahead of her pursuer. The <i>Duchess</i> now returned
+from her chase of the Lima boat, and, joining her
+<i>Duke</i>, bore in upon the able fighter from the open sea.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Egad! We&rsquo;ll have her yet,&rdquo; shouted Captain
+Rogers, rubbing his hands.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;She luffs!&rdquo; cried a lieutenant. &ldquo;She&rsquo;s coming
+to!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Sure enough the Frenchman saw that resistance
+now was useless. She staggered into the wind, and a
+white flag beckoned for a prize-crew to come and take
+her.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And,&rdquo; writes Captain Rogers, &ldquo;I found that a
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg&nbsp;164]</a></span>
+Bishop who had been aboard of her, had been put
+ashore, which gave me much grief. For I always love
+to catch fat prelates, as they give up a stout sum as
+their ransom. In truth they are nice pickings.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Things were going well with the wild rovers from
+Bristol. Plunder there was aplenty and the holds of
+the <i>Duke</i> and the <i>Duchess</i> bulged with treasure. Yet
+Woodes Rogers was not satisfied.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;On! On to Guayaquil!&rdquo; cried he. &ldquo;We&rsquo;ll capture
+this wealthy city; demand a great ransom; and
+sail to England, richer than the Spanish conquerors of
+the Incas.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Hurrah!&rdquo; shouted his staunch followers. &ldquo;On!
+On! to Guayaquil!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>So&mdash;steering for the coast of Ecuador&mdash;the privateers
+drew near this rich Spanish-American town. A
+gulf lay before their eyes in which was a small island;
+with a little, white-housed village (called Puna) on its
+Eastern shore.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Take the place!&rdquo; cried Rogers, as the two ships
+forged into the sleepy shallows, and rounded to before
+the peaceful habitation.</p>
+
+<p>With a cheer, the sailors piled into the boats, rowed
+ashore, and&mdash;with cutlass and dirk in hand&mdash;pressed
+through the narrow streets. Shots rang out from a few
+of the thatched houses; two seamen fell to the ground
+with mortal wounds; but, cheering wildly, the privateers
+rushed through the narrow highway; pressed
+into the court-house; and seized upon the Lieutenant-Governor
+of the town of Guayaquil, as he was attempting
+to hide behind an old clothes-press.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg&nbsp;165]</a></span>
+&ldquo;Let no man get away in order to warn the large
+town of our approach!&rdquo; shouted Captain Rogers.
+&ldquo;Catch all who dash for the canoes upon the beach!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Crush the bloomin&rsquo; canoes!&rdquo; yelled Cook, as he
+saw some of the natives running towards them on the
+sandy shore. &ldquo;Crush the canoes before the devils
+can get there!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;All right!&rdquo; answered several of his men, as they
+ran for the clusters of boats. &ldquo;We&rsquo;ll put holes in
+them!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>As they hurried forward, several of the natives were
+ahead. Two jumped into the bark boats and paddled
+furiously for Guayaquil. The <em>zip</em>, <em>zip</em> of bullets nipped
+the water around them, but,&mdash;with desperate sweeps&mdash;they
+dug their blades into the sea and got safely
+off. As a result, the city was all ready and prepared
+for the invaders.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ho! Ho!&rdquo; laughed Rogers, as he thumbed the
+papers of the Lieutenant-Governor. &ldquo;What is this?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;A warning to the townsfolk of Guayaquil,&rdquo; said
+one of his men, as he peered over his shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>Rogers chuckled.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Beware, all you people&rdquo;&mdash;he read&mdash;&ldquo;of a
+squadron from the faraway isles of Great Britain
+which is coming shortly upon you. There will be full
+ten great ships, heavily manned and well armed for
+attack. The arch rogue, William Dampier, will be in
+control,&mdash;he who has plundered Puna before. Be
+on your guard, citizens! Be prepared! Arm yourselves!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Hah! Hah!&rdquo; laughed the free-booting captain.
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg&nbsp;166]</a></span>
+&ldquo;They think I&rsquo;m Dampier. That&rsquo;s good. But we&rsquo;ll
+have a tough time with them, for they know that we
+mean to assault their pretty little town.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>His followers looked solemn.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Let&rsquo;s attack, right away,&rdquo; cried several, &ldquo;before
+the Spaniards have time to prepare for our charge!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Rogers, however, would not hear of it.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We must rest. Equip ourselves. Place cannon
+in the bows of our boats, and then we will be ready.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>His men murmured, but they knew that when
+Rogers had made up his mind upon a thing, there was
+no use in endeavoring to dissuade him. So they collected
+what plunder was to be had and awaited his
+further orders.</p>
+
+<p>Two days later all was ready for the advance. It
+was near midnight&mdash;upon April 22nd,&mdash;when the
+command was passed around:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Muffle your oars and take the town!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>With one hundred and ten men in the jolly boats, the
+privateers neared the sleepy, little seaport. Not a
+sound broke the silence, save the drip, drip of the
+sweeps, yet, as they approached the white-washed walls
+of the lower town,&mdash;a bonfire was touched off upon
+the shore.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;&rsquo;Tis well,&rdquo; whispered a stout sailor. &ldquo;Now we
+can see to shoot!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>As he said this, many lights appeared in the houses
+of Guayaquil. The townspeople were wide awake.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What means this, sirrah?&rdquo; thundered Rogers at
+a native guide, who was piloting him to the shore.</p>
+
+<p>The fellow had a ready answer.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg&nbsp;167]</a></span>
+&ldquo;&rsquo;Tis the celebration of All Saints Day,&rdquo; he answered
+smiling. &ldquo;The people here are good Christians.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;They know that we are coming,&rdquo; growled the
+English captain, for, as the native spoke, a Spaniard
+upon the shore was heard to shout:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Puna has been captured! The enemy is advancing!
+Arm! Arm!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Bells clanged from the steeples of the little churches.
+Muskets and guns went off. Black masses could be
+seen surging into the streets. Cannon roared, and a
+screeching shot spun ahead of the on-coming boats.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;&rsquo;Tis nothing,&rdquo; said Rogers. &ldquo;The alarm has only
+just been given. Preparations are not complete and
+we can rush them, easily.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>But Captain Cook had his own opinion upon the
+affair.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The Buccaneers,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;never attack any large
+place after it is alarmed. My advice is to keep away.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t go in,&rdquo; cried several. &ldquo;Wait and rush
+them when they are not so well prepared.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Even the men seemed disinclined to advance.</p>
+
+<p>Thus cautious counsel prevailed: the boats dropped
+down-stream again&mdash;about three miles below the
+town&mdash;and were joined by two small barques. They
+were prizes which had been recently captured. Here
+the flotilla lay while the cries in the city grew inaudible,&mdash;for
+the inhabitants saw that the attack had
+been avoided.</p>
+
+<p>When flood-tide came, Captain Rogers once more
+ordered an advance upon the town.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg&nbsp;168]</a></span>
+&ldquo;No! No!&rdquo; argued Dover. &ldquo;They are too well
+prepared. Night will cloak our movements, so we
+should then go on. I, myself, advise the sending of
+a trumpeter with a flag of truce. He shall propose
+that we make some trades with the people of this
+place.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Your measure is half-hearted,&rdquo; said Rogers, with
+heat. &ldquo;You are a craven knave. Let&rsquo;s rush the town
+like Englishmen and heroes!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Again cautious counsel prevailed. Two prisoners&mdash;a
+Lieutenant from Puna, and the Captain of the
+Frenchman of recent capture&mdash;were sent to parley
+with the Spaniards.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The English are afraid!&rdquo; whispered the inhabitants.
+&ldquo;Let us keep them off with braggadocio, and
+mayhap reinforcements will come to us.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>So they bickered and delayed.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;These dogs would palaver forever,&rdquo; said Captain
+Rogers, when negotiations had proceeded for full two
+days without result. &ldquo;I, for one, am for attacking
+the city right now!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes! On! On!&rdquo; cried his men.</p>
+
+<p>Even the cautious Dover was ready to advance;
+so, landing upon the beach, the one hundred and
+ten ran towards the town with a wild, exultant
+whoop!</p>
+
+<p><em>Zip! Zip!</em> came the bullets from the nearer houses,
+as the privateers advanced.</p>
+
+<p><em>Boom! Boom!</em> sounded the guns from the <i>Duchess</i>
+and the <i>Duke</i>, which had edged up near the wharves
+and anchored. Shells shrieked and burst; guns
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg&nbsp;169]</a></span>
+roared; and, with a hoarse cheer, the English beat
+down two lines of Spaniards who opposed them.</p>
+
+<p>Back, back, they crushed the defenders of Guayaquil
+to the market-place in the centre of the town, where
+four cannon were drawn up behind a barricade which
+was flanked by cavalry.</p>
+
+<p><em>Crash! Crash!</em> they roared at the on-coming privateers,
+and many a man went down before the
+exploding grape and cannister. But the blood of the
+English was now up.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Take the guns!&rdquo; shouted Woodes Rogers.
+&ldquo;Scale the barricade and spike the pieces!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>With a mighty roar the jack-tars ran for the engines
+of death; leaping over the wall of the defenses;
+bayonetting the gunners; turning the spitting war-engines
+upon the cavalry, which, in confusion and dismay,
+was driven down a crooked lane. It was the last
+stand. The English standard soon waved from the
+flag-pole of the House of Justice.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And now,&rdquo; cried Captain Rogers, gleefully, &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll
+meet the worthy <i>Padres</i> and treat with them for a
+ransom. We&rsquo;ll make them pay full well to get back
+the neat little town of Guayaquil.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Crestfallen and abashed, the city fathers were soon
+brought before the privateer.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Se&ntilde;or,&rdquo; said they, &ldquo;your men can fight like devils.
+Se&ntilde;or, you are the first man to have taken our town,
+and many a Buccaneer has endeavored to do so!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Captain Rogers smiled.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Tut! Tut!&rdquo; said he. &ldquo;The English can always
+battle. But&mdash;Fathers&mdash;you must pay me well for
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg&nbsp;170]</a></span>
+this affair. I demand thirty thousand pieces of eight
+($35,000 or about &pound;6,750) as ransom for your fair
+city. I will give you two days in which to collect it.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The worthy <i>Padres</i> hung their heads.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You English,&rdquo; said they, &ldquo;are cruel extortioners.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Yet&mdash;in two day&rsquo;s time&mdash;the British marched to
+their boats with colors flying, bugles blowing, and
+drums beating a rollicking tattoo. Captain Rogers
+brought up the rear with a few men. He had secured
+the ransom and fairly smiled with exuberant joy.
+&ldquo;Our sailors,&rdquo; says he, &ldquo;kept continually dropping
+their pistols, cutlasses, and pole-axes; which shows
+they had grown careless and very weak&mdash;weary of
+being soldiers&mdash;and it was high time that we should
+be gone from hence to the shores of Merrie England.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Thus, on April 28th, when the <i>Duke</i> and the <i>Duchess</i>
+weighed anchor and stood out to sea: guns roared:
+trumpets blew: the men cheered.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And so,&rdquo; writes the gallant Rogers, &ldquo;we took leave
+of the Spaniards very cheerfully, but not half so well
+pleased as we should have been if we had taken &rsquo;em by
+surprise; for I was well assured from all hands, that
+at least we should then have got about two hundred
+thousand pieces of eight in money (&pound;45,000 or
+$225,000); and in jewels, diamonds, and wrought
+and unwrought gold and silver.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<p>The owners of the two privateers: the <i>Duke</i> and the
+<i>Duchess</i>, sat in solemn meeting at the good town of
+Bristol. It was the month of October, 1711.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg&nbsp;171]</a></span>
+The fat Quakers were smiling, for Captain Rogers
+had brought them back equally fat moneys.</p>
+
+<p>The rugged merchants laughed, for the venture had
+been a howling success.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And you were wounded?&rdquo; said a stockholder,
+turning to the bronzed sea-rover who stood before
+them, giving account and reckoning of his journey
+to the Spanish Main.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;A scratch,&rdquo; replied the stout sea-dog, smiling.
+&ldquo;When we tackled a Manila ship on the way home
+from Guayaquil, I got a ball through the jaw, and a
+splinter in the left foot. It laid me up for full three
+weeks, but, gentlemen, a cat and Woodes Rogers both
+have nine lives.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>And even the sober Quaker fathers laughed at this
+sally.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You have done well,&rdquo; they said. &ldquo;We will reward
+you with money and a good berth. How would you
+care to be Governor of the Bahamas?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Fine!&rdquo; said Woodes Rogers, chuckling.</p>
+
+<p>And that is the way the old sea-barnacle spent his
+declining years, dying at the tropic isle on July 16th,
+1732. Hail to this Prince of Privateers!</p>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg&nbsp;172]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>TWILIGHT AT SEA</h2>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The twilight hours like birds flew by,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As lightly and as free;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ten thousand stars were in the sky,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ten thousand on the sea;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For every wave with dimpled face,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That leaped up in the air,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Had caught a star in its embrace,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And held it trembling there.<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<a name="Page_173" id="Page_173"><!-- unnumbered title page --></a>
+<p><span class='pagenum'></span></p>
+
+<h2>FORTUNATUS WRIGHT<br />
+<br />
+THE MOST HATED PRIVATEERSMAN OF
+THE MEDITERRANEAN SEA<br />
+<br />
+(1715-1765)</h2>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg&nbsp;174]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>&ldquo;It was a high counsel which I once heard given to a young
+person: &lsquo;Always do what you are afraid to do.&rsquo;&rdquo;&mdash;<span class="smcap">Emerson.</span></p>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg&nbsp;175]</a></span></p>
+
+<p class="center padtop">FORTUNATUS WRIGHT<br />
+THE MOST HATED PRIVATEERSMAN OF
+THE MEDITERRANEAN SEA<br />
+(1715-1765)</p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;&lsquo;<em>Be sure you&rsquo;re right, then go ahead!</em>&rsquo; was coined by Andrew Jackson,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who was a fighter, tough as nails, and loved to lay the whacks on,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He followed out this sage advice, in spite of opposition,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While everybody winked and said,&mdash;&lsquo;<em>A Fellow with a Mission!</em>&rsquo;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In other days, in other climes, there lived a seaman daring,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who loved a fight, as well as he,&mdash;was just as good at swearing;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His name was Wright, and thus in spite of all his foemen said,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Old <em>Fortune</em> Wright, was surely right, whene&rsquo;er he went ahead!&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class="author">&mdash;<i>Chants of the Eastern Clipper Ships.</i>&mdash;1846.</p>
+
+<p><span class="dropcap">I</span>N the year 1744 war was declared between England
+and France. French privateers harried the
+coast of her rival, caught her merchantmen whenever
+they ventured away from stout men-o&rsquo;-warsmen,
+and chased them in the blue, shimmering waters of
+the Mediterranean. It seemed as if there were never
+gun-boats enough to protect the British shipping, and
+thus many of the English merchants grew choleric and
+angry.</p>
+
+<p>Englishmen carried on quite a trade with Italy,
+Greece, and the countries of Asia Minor, and at
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg&nbsp;176]</a></span>
+Leghorn&mdash;upon the Italian coast&mdash;they had numerous
+trading shops and docks for their own vessels. They
+began to suffer, not only great annoyance, but also
+great loss, from the depredations of the French privateers
+which swarmed about the harbor mouth and
+scurried into every corner of the ragged coast-line.
+Their trade was hampered, their ships compelled to
+remain in port, or&mdash;if they ventured out&mdash;they
+were inevitably captured. The situation was unbearable.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;My! My!&rdquo; said one of the red-faced merchants.
+&ldquo;My! My! We must have a remedy for this. My!
+My! We must have our own privateers!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well spoken,&rdquo; cried another. &ldquo;And I know the
+very man to help us out. He is living here, now, and
+his name is Fortunatus Wright. Gentlemen! I tell
+you he is a true sea-dog! He is the fellow to cripple
+these saucy, French bushwhackers of the sea.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Hear! Hear!&rdquo; cried others.</p>
+
+<p>And thus Mr. Fortunatus Wright was sought for,
+and was asked:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Will you take charge of a privateer for the British
+merchants of Leghorn? Will you chase these rascally
+Frenchmen? Will you cripple their operations? Will
+you chastise these sea-robbers?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>To this Mr. Fortunatus Wright, being a true seaman
+with the love of the salt water tugging at his
+heart strings, is said to have remarked,</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Whoop-ee!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Which being interpreted means:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Gentlemen, I&rsquo;m dee-lighted!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg&nbsp;177]</a></span>
+As luck would have it, there was a vessel lying in
+the harbor which was directly available. She was a
+brigantine called the <i>Fame</i>, and, although we know
+little about her tonnage and the number of stout sea-dogs
+whom she could carry, it is apparent that Fortunatus
+Wright considered her most admirably suited
+for his venture. At any rate he soon boarded her,
+swore in a crew of stalwart seamen, and saw that
+plenty of gunpowder, cutlasses, boarding-pikes and
+muskets were aboard.</p>
+
+<p>It was September, 1746, and, before the close of
+the month of December, the <i>Fame</i> had captured eighteen
+prizes, one of which was a hulking, French privateer
+with twenty guns and one hundred and fifty
+men, especially fitted out to put an end to the career
+of the vessel of Fortunatus Wright. They had met
+off the port of Messina and had had a roaring, little
+scrimmage, but&mdash;seeing that matters were going ill
+with him&mdash;the French captain had cried:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Run for the shore! Run our ship aground! We
+will fix her so that this English hound cannot make
+a prize of us!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Voil&agrave;! Voil&agrave;!&rdquo; his men had shouted. &ldquo;Oui!
+We will f-e-e-x th-e-es Eengleesh chien! Oui! Au
+revoir, Monsieur Wright!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>So saying, the privateer had been run upon the
+sandy beach, bows on, where her crew took to the
+brush, yelling derisively at the <i>Fame</i> as she came up
+within hail,&mdash;sails snug down so as to move cautiously.</p>
+
+<p>The Frenchmen had counted without their host.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg&nbsp;178]</a></span>
+&ldquo;We&rsquo;ll float her, my hearties!&rdquo; cried Wright.
+&ldquo;All hands ashore in the small boats. Tie hawsers
+to her stern and pull her off!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>This they did, while the French captain, far back
+in the brush, saw it and fairly boiled with disappointment
+and rage.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Zees Wright,&rdquo; he blustered. &ldquo;One cannot outweet
+heem.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>So the privateer was towed into the harbor of Leghorn,
+where all the English merchants cried:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Good! Good! Now we have a true man to fight
+our battles! Huzzah for Fortunatus Wright!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The French were furious, while at the island of
+Malta (where were numerous French, Spanish, Austrian
+and English traders) the feeling grew intense.
+Here the Austrians sided with the English and several
+duels were fought by angry officers, as crafty Fortunatus
+Wright continued to send in his prizes.</p>
+
+<p>Finally the French merchants forwarded a missive
+to Marseilles, in France, which ran:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Can the French be further humiliated by this corsair&mdash;this
+robber&mdash;Fortunatus Wright? Let our
+people fit out a privateer sufficiently large to cope with
+him, and let her defeat and cripple this fellow. Make
+haste, for he is doing much damage!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>An answer came back.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Before a month is gone, Monsieur Wright will no
+more harass your privateers. What we have determined
+to do, we shall do!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Word of this was brought to Captain Fortunatus
+Wright and he only smiled broadly. &ldquo;There&rsquo;ll be
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg&nbsp;179]</a></span>
+another ship to bring into Malta, care of F. Wright,
+Esq.,&rdquo; said he. &ldquo;And it will be labelled Collect on
+Delivery.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Not three weeks later the French vessel came
+jauntily into the harbor of Malta. The captain was a
+man of considerable repute as a seaman and fighter,
+and he was warmly received by the French. They
+invited him to many dinners.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Voil&agrave;!&rdquo; said they. &ldquo;Here is the fellow to do the
+tr-e-e-k. Tenez! There will soon be one b-e-eg mince
+pie we-eth Captain Wright eenside. Ha! Ha!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>It is never well to count your chickens before they
+hatch or to pat a man upon the back before he has won a victory.</p>
+
+<p>Eagerly the French captain cruised outside, continually
+upon the watch for slippery Skipper Wright.
+His vessel was superior to the <i>Fame</i> in numbers of
+both guns and men. He was sure of victory. &ldquo;If
+only the hated Englishman would appear!&rdquo; he grumbled.</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile the excitement and expectation at Malta
+became intense. Finally it was noised abroad that the
+terrible privateer had been sighted about five miles off
+the harbor. All factions were aroused: the Austrians
+and English slapping the French and Spaniards upon
+the back, and saying, &ldquo;Now there will be a chance
+to sink bold Captain Wright, Messieurs!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>To which the irritable Frenchmen would answer,
+&ldquo;Ah! Yes! He will be gobbled up like Jonah by the
+whale. Pouff!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The French privateer sailed out to meet the foe,
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg&nbsp;180]</a></span>
+and soon her white canvas had disappeared from view
+around a jutting headland. The stranger ran off.
+The Frenchman pursued, and soon both were lost to
+the eager gaze of the population of Malta, which
+crowded every headland, eager and expectant for the
+bloody battle. The shore was black with people.</p>
+
+<p>Hours passed. Another day came and with it the
+news that two vessels had been sighted off the entrance
+to the harbor. Hundreds rushed to the headlands and
+cliffs in order to see the victor and the vanquished,
+for two cruisers were approaching, the one towing
+the other.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Huzzah!&rdquo; shouted an enthusiastic Frenchman.
+&ldquo;We have won! See&mdash;up go the French colors upon
+the first vessel. The other&mdash;poof&mdash;eet ees a jelly.
+Eet ees pounded to ze shreds.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Huzzah!&rdquo; shouted all of his compatriots, and
+they danced about, shaking hands, embracing, and
+waving their hats and their handkerchiefs.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ce cher Wright!&rdquo; cried they. &ldquo;He ees een the
+soup, eh?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>And what of the Englishmen?</p>
+
+<p>They&mdash;of course&mdash;said nothing, but bit their
+lips, looked at their Austrian friends, and hung their
+heads dejectedly.</p>
+
+<p>Here is the most beautiful part of all this story,
+for Fortunatus Wright, my boys, was a joker&mdash;a
+real, true end man in a minstrel show&mdash;and he was
+having his fun with &ldquo;the Frenchies.&rdquo; His vessel&mdash;indeed&mdash;had
+come off victorious, in spite of the fact
+that she had been much more shattered than the other
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg&nbsp;181]</a></span>
+contestant. Therefore, Wright had put her in tow
+of the captured Frenchman, which he, himself, was
+steering, with the crew of his opponent down in the
+hold, as prisoners of war.</p>
+
+<p>Seeing the crowded headlands and swarming ramparts
+in the harbor, he could not resist the temptation
+of hoisting the flag of France. He chuckled as he saw
+the effect it produced upon the crowd, then&mdash;as the
+vessels rounded a fort at the entrance to the harbor&mdash;down
+came the colors of France and up went the English
+flag to the peak, with the French flag below.</p>
+
+<p>And then&mdash;well, you can imagine how the Englishmen
+and Austrians yelled, and how the poor
+Frenchmen beat a hasty flight for their homes. Fortunatus
+Wright had had a sweet revenge. He laughed
+long and hard, while the Frenchmen said, &ldquo;Curse
+heem! He ees a devil! A thousand curses upon the
+head of thees Wright! Sapristi!&rdquo; And they did not
+open any more bottles of wine for their supposedly
+great captain from Marseilles.</p>
+
+<p>As for Fortunatus Wright, he continued to harass
+the French and get into trouble, as the following anecdote
+well shows.</p>
+
+<p>Not long after his famous battle, he was travelling
+in Italy with introductions to many of the nobility,
+and arrived&mdash;one day&mdash;before the city gates of
+Lucca. Here was stationed a guard, and a sentinel
+scrutinized him with great care and deliberation.</p>
+
+<p>Fortunatus Wright grew impatient.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Can I not go by?&rdquo; said he. &ldquo;My passports are
+correct!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg&nbsp;182]</a></span>
+&ldquo;No! No!&rdquo; answered the soldier. &ldquo;I no likea
+zose peestols in your belta. You must deeliver them
+to me before you can go to ze ceety.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The English sea-captain said nothing, but the color
+rose in his cheeks. In an instant he raised one of his
+pistols and pointed it at the head of the astonished
+sentry.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The first man that endeavors to take my weapons
+from me,&rdquo; he yelled, &ldquo;does so at the cost of his life!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The guardsman was flabbergasted.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Corporal of the Guard! Post Number Two!&rdquo; he
+shouted, presenting his musket at the same instant,
+and pointing it at the head of the irascible Captain
+Wright.</p>
+
+<p>Immediately a dozen soldiers came running to the
+spot. They surrounded the irate English traveller.
+He was ordered to &ldquo;Throw up your hands!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You air one mad Englishmana!&rdquo; said the Officer
+of the Guard. &ldquo;Here. Comea weeth usa! We weel
+feexa youa!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Seeing that the odds were too much against him,
+Captain Wright allowed himself to be taken to the
+guard house, while a soldier was dispatched to the
+British Ambassador in order to explain that &ldquo;they
+had captured an Englishman as mad as a mad dog!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Things looked bad for the great privateersman.
+But was his name not Fortunatus? And was not
+good fortune always with him?</p>
+
+<p>A nobleman to whom the bold mariner had a letter
+now intervened in his favor, and secured the release
+of the high-tempered man-of-the-sea. On the morning
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg&nbsp;183]</a></span>
+of the fourth day of his captivity, and at the early
+hour of four, a soldier waked Captain Fortunatus
+Wright, who was peacefully sleeping at a military
+prison. A missive was handed him, and he read:</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>&ldquo;<span class="smcap">Seigneur Wright</span>:&mdash;Since you have been so
+daring as to attempt to enter the town of Lucca by
+force, it is therefore ordered that you shall now leave
+the State and never presume to enter it again, without
+leave from the Republic. Post-horses, with a guard to
+see you over the border, are now ready for you. We
+trust that you shall have a safe journey.</p>
+
+<p class="sig">&ldquo;By order of the<br />
+&ldquo;<span class="smcap">Governor of Lucca</span>.&rdquo;</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>&ldquo;These Italians are the most unreasonable people
+alive,&rdquo; growled Captain Wright. But he pocketed
+both his pride and his pistols, entered the post-chaise
+at the door, and was soon rolling forth for other parts.
+In spite of this order&mdash;he continued to reside in
+Italy, with the true independence of a privateersman.</p>
+
+<p>In December, 1746, the bold seafarer made an exceptionally
+good capture: a French vessel on a voyage
+from Marseilles to Naples, with a rich cargo and
+the servants and luggage of a real potentate,&mdash;the
+Prince of Campo Florida.</p>
+
+<p>When valorous Wright stepped aboard of her, her
+captain was scraping and bowing near the rail.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ah, Seigneur!&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;you have taken me,
+that is true. But you cannot touch my cargo or my
+men. See,&mdash;here is a pass from King George the
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg&nbsp;184]</a></span>
+Second of England. It says, &lsquo;All of the cargo, passengers,
+and crew of <i>La Belle Florence</i> shall be exempt
+from molestation by English cruisers and privateers.&rsquo;
+What say you to that?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Captain Wright looked sad, but he seized the paper
+and read it with care. His smile broadened as he
+perused the document.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;How am I to know that this particular ship is to
+go free?&rdquo; said he. &ldquo;For although you told me that
+the name of your vessel (<i>La Belle Florence</i>) was mentioned
+in this document, I do not find that it is mentioned.
+The paper merely states that &lsquo;the vessel&rsquo;
+shall not be molested, and, my boy, you may have
+stolen this from some other skipper. Ah! Ha! You
+are my prize and shall go with me into Leghorn.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>You should have seen the face of the Frenchman!</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I vill haf revenge!&rdquo; said he. And he had it.</p>
+
+<p>For, when the matter was referred to the British
+Minister, he turned it over to the Admiral who commanded
+the English ships at this station, and this
+high official made Captain Wright give up both vessel
+and cargo. He did so with the same unwillingness
+that he had shown when asked to leave the quaint,
+little town of Lucca. Captain Wright, you see, had
+that bull-dog stubbornness which is characteristic of
+men of the British Isles. He believed in hanging on
+to everything which he took.</p>
+
+<p>A bit later, this trait got him into serious difficulties
+and into prison.</p>
+
+<p>A number of English merchants were trading with
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg&nbsp;185]</a></span>
+the people of Turkey under the name of &ldquo;The Company
+of English Merchants trading to the Levant
+Sea,&rdquo; and, finding it impossible to ship all of their
+goods in British vessels, they often sent them in the
+holds of French ships. True it was that France was
+at war with England at this time, but, as these were
+English cargoes, the British naturally thought that
+they should be allowed to come through, unmolested,
+even though the French vessels might be captured by
+English privateers. But they had not reckoned with
+Fortunatus Wright.</p>
+
+<p>Two French clipper ships were scudding quietly
+along off the Italian coast, one bright day in June of
+1747, when a rakish vessel appeared upon the horizon
+and speedily bore down upon them. They crowded
+on sail, but they could not outdistance their pursuer,
+who was soon near enough to fire a gun across the
+bow of the foremost, and flaunt the English colors
+in her face.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Helas!&rdquo; growled the French skipper. &ldquo;Eet ees
+that devil, ze Captain Wright. Eet is all up with
+me! Helas!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>So he came to and surrendered; but the other fellow
+pounded away at the British privateer with a couple
+of swivel guns and put up a smart, little skirmish
+before a well-directed shot from the deck of the Englishman,
+knocked a topmast crashing over the port
+side. Crippled, she surrendered.</p>
+
+<p>It did not take Captain Wright long to sail into
+Leghorn harbor with his prizes. The holds were
+filled with bales of rich goods, marked: &ldquo;The property
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg&nbsp;186]</a></span>
+of the Company of English Merchants trading
+to the Levant Sea.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;ll sell the bloomin&rsquo; cargoes,&rdquo; cried Wright.
+&ldquo;For the vessels were under the French flag and
+we&rsquo;re at war with that nation. Besides this, one of
+them put up a fight against me.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Thus&mdash;the cargoes were sold&mdash;Captain Fortunatus
+pocketed the money, and went upon his way, rejoicing.</p>
+
+<p>But he did not rejoice very long, for the British
+merchants were furious with anger, and procured&mdash;through
+some means or other&mdash;an order from the
+English Government to the effect that English cargoes
+in French vessels were not to be touched&mdash;when captured
+by British privateers. Word was sent to Captain
+Wright to refund the money which he had secured
+by the sale of the cargoes captured in the French ships,
+and the property of &ldquo;The Company of English Merchants
+trading to the Levant Sea.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>To this Captain Wright answered, &ldquo;Bah! I have
+the money. I intend to keep it!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Orders were sent from England to have this fellow
+arrested and shipped home; so the Italian police
+obligingly captured the old sea-dog, locked him up,
+and kept him in jail for six months, while the attorneys
+fought over the legality of the affair.</p>
+
+<p>At length the bluff privateersman was allowed to
+go free, and&mdash;he never paid back the money. &ldquo;These
+fellows attacked me at law,&rdquo; he wrote, &ldquo;but I have
+not acted contrary to it. I am an Englishman. I am
+acting under a commission from the King of England,
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg&nbsp;187]</a></span>
+and, when we are at war with France, I intend to
+hold and keep all the cargoes which I capture in
+French vessels. As for this &lsquo;English Company trading
+to the Levant Sea!&rsquo; let them learn a lesson and
+pack their goods in future in English vessels. English
+oak should be good enough for English cargoes.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The &ldquo;English Company trading to the Levant Sea&rdquo;
+had certainly learned that Fortunatus Wright was as
+stubborn as a mule, and&mdash;in the future&mdash;they employed
+no French vessels to carry their bales of commerce.
+<em>A wise dog only allows himself to be bitten
+once.</em></p>
+
+<p>France and England now came to a peaceable settlement
+of their difficulties, but in 1755 war broke out
+afresh. Fortunatus Wright chuckled, for he itched
+for another brush upon the wide sweep of the ocean,
+and a chance to take a prize or two. So the <i>Fame</i>
+not being available, he had a small vessel constructed
+at Leghorn, and called her the <i>Saint George</i>. She was
+a fast sailer and was as graceful as a sea-gull. &ldquo;In
+this fair ship,&rdquo; said he, as he gazed upon her admiringly,
+&ldquo;I shall take many a prize and shall have, I
+trust, many a sharp adventure. <i>Saint George</i>, I salute
+you! May you bring me only the best of luck!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Trouble was in store for the well-hated mariner
+even before he turned his vessel&rsquo;s prow into the Mediterranean,
+for&mdash;in spite of the fact that the Italians
+were neutral&mdash;their sympathies were strongly with
+France, and they looked with decided disfavor upon
+the graceful hull of the <i>Saint George</i>, as she bobbed
+serenely upon the surface of the bay. Knowing full
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg&nbsp;188]</a></span>
+well the reputation of this famous seaman, they paid
+particular attention to his little craft, and sent a number
+of officials to inspect her. In a few days the intrepid
+Fortunatus received the information that, as his
+was a merchant vessel, he must carry a crew of only
+five-and-twenty men, and an armament of four small
+guns.</p>
+
+<p>At this the old sea-dog only laughed, and exhibited
+the greatest anxiety to comply with the requirements
+of the law.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I would suggest,&rdquo; said he to one of the officials
+of the town, &ldquo;that you keep guard-boats rowing
+around my ship in order to be sure that I do not take
+on more guns and men than the law permits, before
+I set sail.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The officer smiled. &ldquo;We are watching you
+closely,&rdquo; said he. &ldquo;For Monsieur Wright, it is said
+that you are as crafty as a cat!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The mariner grinned, and, before going to sea,
+obtained from the Governor, a certificate to the effect
+that he had complied with all the requirements of the
+law.</p>
+
+<p>Armed with this, on July 28th, 1756, he put to sea,
+in company with four merchant vessels laden with
+valuable cargoes, and bound for the shores of England.
+Carefully the <i>Saint George</i> had been watched,
+so carefully, in fact, that the authorities had overlooked
+the lading of the other vessels, aboard which
+numerous guns, howitzers, and hand-spikes had been
+smuggled, besides a number of seamen who were
+well-experienced in fighting upon the ocean. It is
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg&nbsp;189]</a></span>
+true that Fortunatus Wright was as crafty as a cat,
+or&mdash;as they say in Maine&mdash;&ldquo;You&rsquo;d have to git up
+early if yer wanted ter lick him.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Not only had the officials at Leghorn watched every
+move of this well-known privateersman, but they had
+sent word to the French that Wright had only a feeble
+force, that he was accompanying several rich prizes,
+and that he could be easily beaten and captured by a
+vessel of any size. So much hated was he, that it is
+said the French king had promised Knighthood and
+a handsome life pension to the sailor who could bring
+Wright to the shores of France <em>dead or alive</em>. The
+merchants of Marseilles were particularly bitter against
+him, for he had captured many of their ships, and in
+the market-place (where all could see it) had been
+posted a placard, which ran:</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p class="center">&ldquo;ALL SAILORS AND SEAMEN ATTENTION!</p>
+
+<p>To the person, or persons, who will capture and bring to
+France, the body of the arch-villain Captain Fortunatus Wright,
+shall be given</p>
+
+<p class="center">A SUM DOUBLE THE VALUE OF WRIGHT&rsquo;S VESSEL.</p>
+
+<p>Frenchmen! Catch this Thief! Bring him in Dead or Alive!
+Do your Duty!</p>
+
+<p>This sum is guaranteed by the Merchants and Ship-owners of
+Marseilles, and the Chamber of Commerce.&rdquo;</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>Wright had heard of this, and it sent a grim look
+into his eyes. He also heard that a vessel was cruising
+outside the harbor in wait for him, and thus he
+was not surprised, as he saw a large boat upon his
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg&nbsp;190]</a></span>
+port bow, when only a few hours&rsquo; sail from the snug
+harbor of Leghorn.</p>
+
+<p>This vessel&mdash;a zebeque&mdash;had been waiting for the
+well-hated privateersman for several days, as her captain
+had been warned by the Italians that Wright was
+about to set sail. She had three masts, each carrying
+a huge, three-cornered sail, sixteen guns of considerable
+size, and several swivels. Her crew numbered
+two hundred and eighty men, well armed and eager
+for a brush with the famous Fortunatus, whose proverbial
+good fortune seemed now to have deserted
+him.</p>
+
+<p>Rounding to, Wright signalled to his merchantmen
+to draw near and hurriedly transported some of the
+cannon, which he had smuggled, to his own vessel.
+He also added to his small crew, so that&mdash;when the
+zebeque came pounding down within shooting distance&mdash;he
+had increased his sailors from twenty-five
+to seventy-five, and his guns, from four to
+twelve.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Now let the Frenchie come on!&rdquo; he cried. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m
+half prepared, but I&rsquo;ll give her a warmer welcome than
+she ever had in all her career!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Huzzah! Huzzah!&rdquo; shouted his men, who were
+a motley collection of all nationalities: Italians, English,
+Portuguese, Dutch, Germans, and a few Arabs.
+&ldquo;Huzzah! Huzzah! Wright forever!&rdquo; The Arabs,
+of course, didn&rsquo;t say this, but they tried to.</p>
+
+<p>The French were very confident, and, as they came
+within range of the guns of the little <i>Saint George</i>
+they began to sing a hymn of victory, while their
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg&nbsp;191]</a></span>
+captain already saw, in his hands, the rich reward
+offered by the good citizens of Marseilles.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Poof!&rdquo; he chuckled. &ldquo;Monsieur Wright, he soon
+take dinnaire in my cabin. Poof!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>But Monsieur Wright was a different fellow than
+he imagined, and his men&mdash;although of all nationalities&mdash;were
+so animated by his stirring and martial
+spirit, that they fought better than they had ever
+fought in their lives before. You all know how necessary
+to success &ldquo;Spirit&rdquo; is in a foot-ball team, or
+a base-ball nine. The team which has the do-or-dare
+spirit, the never-give-up-until-the-last-gun-is-fired determination,
+is usually the team that wins. And the
+spirit of the captain is the controlling factor in
+any contest. If he be no desperate fighter, his
+followers will not be desperate fighters. If he is
+weak-kneed in a crisis, his followers will be weak-kneed.</p>
+
+<p>So this motley crew, under Fortunatus Wright,
+cheered onward by the dauntless navigator, fought as
+they had never fought before. Arab and German
+strove as well as Englishman and Italian to battle
+strenuously beneath the eye of the famous privateersman.
+They had never been together before, but, animated
+by the presence of this fearless &ldquo;cock-of-the-Mediterranean,&rdquo;
+they now sailed into the Frenchman
+as if the zebeque were a vessel of equal strength and
+armament. Cheer after cheer welled into the air as
+the two antagonists drew near each other, while the
+puff of white smoke from the sides of the French
+vessel was followed by the <em>chug! chug!</em> of solid shot,
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg&nbsp;192]</a></span>
+as it cut up the waves near the body of the staunch,
+little <i>Saint George</i>.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It&rsquo;s three to one against us, Boys!&rdquo; shouted the
+battle-scarred Captain Wright. &ldquo;Fire for the enemy&rsquo;s
+rigging and bring down one of her masts, if you can.
+If you fight hard we can lick her!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The screech of a shell cut his words short, for a
+piece of iron passed dangerously near his lips, striking
+a stout Italian in the neck, and rendering him useless
+for further conflict.</p>
+
+<p>Around and around in a wide circle floated the two
+sea-warriors, for the wind was light and just drove
+them along at the rate of a snail&rsquo;s pace. The rag-tag-and-bob-tail
+crew on the <i>Saint George</i> stood to their
+guns like veterans and poured in such a hot fire that
+the French captain speedily realized that his only
+chance for victory was to board and overwhelm the
+English by superior numbers.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Bring the vessel up on her starboard side!&rdquo; he
+commanded. &ldquo;And get out the boarding-pikes!
+Now we&rsquo;ll finish Captain Wright!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The zebeque soon ranged alongside the battered
+<i>Saint George</i>, threw her grappling hooks into the rigging,
+and her men were in a hand-to-hand struggle
+with the motley crew who battled for the veteran
+Fortunatus. <em>Slash! Slash! Crack!</em> The cutlasses
+cut and parried, the pistols spat, and the boarding-pikes
+thrust and struck. Cheering wildly the Frenchmen
+attempted to climb upon the deck of the privateer,
+but the followers of old Wright fought like demons.
+They parried and thrust like fiends; and such was the
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg&nbsp;193]</a></span>
+ferocity of their struggle that the boarders were repulsed
+with great slaughter.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 487px;">
+<a name="boarders_repulsed" id="boarders_repulsed"></a>
+<img src="images/fpas13.jpg" width="487" height="600" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">&ldquo;THE BOARDERS WERE REPULSED WITH GREAT SLAUGHTER.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Thees Wright ees a very hornet for a fight!&rdquo;
+sighed the French captain, as he ordered the grappling
+hooks cast off, and floated his vessel away.</p>
+
+<p><em>Poom! Poom!</em></p>
+
+<p>There was still some fight left in the little <i>Saint
+George</i> and her dauntless crew kept pounding iron at
+the sullen zebeque, which, shattered and torn, filled
+away and made for the open sea. Her captain had
+been struck by a piece of shell just as the battle closed;
+two lieutenants were killed, seventy men were
+wounded, and eighty-eight had been killed by the accurate
+shooting of the &ldquo;Never-Say-Dies&rdquo; under Captain
+Fortunatus Wright: the invincible. It had been
+a gallant battle, gallantly fought by both sides, and
+gallantly won.</p>
+
+<p>Bold navigator Wright followed his crippled adversary
+for several miles, then&mdash;seeing another
+French gun-boat threatening his convoy&mdash;he returned
+to the merchant-ships which had accompanied
+him; sent them back into Leghorn harbor; and followed,
+next day, with the proud, but battered <i>Saint
+George</i>. It had been a glorious victory.</p>
+
+<p>No sooner had the war-scarred Captain Wright
+let go his anchor chains in the harbor of Leghorn
+than he realized that he had only just begun to
+fight.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Sapristi!&rdquo; said an Italian official. &ldquo;This pirate
+has deceived us! This fellow was allowed but four
+guns upon his ship and he had twelve. To the jail
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg&nbsp;194]</a></span>
+with this dog! To the prison with this cut-throat!
+Sapristi!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>A boat soon rowed to the <i>Saint George</i> and an order
+was delivered to Captain Wright to the effect that he
+must bring his vessel into the inner harbor, and, if
+he did not obey, she would be brought in by Italian
+gun-boats. Wright&mdash;of course&mdash;refused. So two
+big Italian warships sailed up upon either side of
+the <i>Saint George</i>, ran out their guns, and cast anchor.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I will not move for the entire Italian Government!&rdquo;
+roared Captain Fortunatus. &ldquo;I will appeal
+to the British consul for protection, as England is at
+war with France, not with Italy.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Now was a pretty how-de-do. The Italians were
+furious with the stubborn privateersman for refusing
+to obey their orders, but, in truth, the way that
+he had deceived them in smuggling the extra cannon
+aboard&mdash;when under their own eyes&mdash;is what had
+roused their quick, Tuscan tempers. They thought
+that they had been sharp&mdash;well&mdash;here was a man
+who was even sharper than they, themselves. &ldquo;Sapristi!&rdquo;
+they cried. &ldquo;To the jail weeth heem!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>There was a terrific war of words between the
+British consul and the officials of that snug, little
+town. Then, the problem was suddenly solved, for,
+two powerful, English men-of-war dropped into the
+harbor: the <i>Jersey</i> of sixty guns, and the <i>Isis</i> mounting
+fifty. The authorities of Leghorn were told that
+they had orders from the Admiral of the British, Mediterranean
+fleet, to convoy any English merchantmen
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg&nbsp;195]</a></span>
+which might be there, and <em>to release the Saint George
+immediately</em>. Wright threw up his cap and cheered,
+but the officials of Leghorn said things which cannot
+be printed. Thus the <i>Saint George</i> sailed upon her
+way, unmolested, and was soon taking more prizes
+upon the broad waters of the Mediterranean.</p>
+
+<p>The path of the privateer is not strewn with roses.
+Captain Fortunatus found that his reputation had gone
+abroad and it had not been to his credit, for, when he
+put in at Malta he was not allowed to buy provisions
+for his ship.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You are a beastly pirate!&rdquo; said an official. &ldquo;You
+cannot purchase anything here for your nefarious
+business.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I am a privateer!&rdquo; answered Wright, with anger.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;A privateer looks just the same to me as a pirate,&rdquo;
+sarcastically sneered the official. And Captain Fortunatus
+had to look elsewhere for provisions.</p>
+
+<p>As he cruised along, a big, French cruiser of
+thirty-eight guns chased the little <i>Saint George</i> as if
+to gobble her up alive.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Boys! We shall now have some fun!&rdquo; said Captain
+Wright. &ldquo;I can sail faster than this Frenchy.
+Just watch me!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>So, when the great beast of a French vessel came
+lumbering by, Wright played with her like a cat with
+a mouse; sailed around her in circles; shot guns at her
+rigging&mdash;just to aggravate the men from the sunny
+land&mdash;and then dipped his ensign and went careening
+away as if nothing had happened. No wonder that
+the French hated and despised this valiant mariner!
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg&nbsp;196]</a></span>
+Wouldn&rsquo;t you have done so if you had been a Frenchman?</p>
+
+<p>Thus Captain Fortunatus Wright continued upon
+his privateering, his fighting, and his cruising; bearing
+terror to his enemies but satisfaction to his friends.
+His name was as well known among those who sailed
+the Mediterranean as was that of the great Napoleon
+in later years, and it was just as cordially hated by
+those who opposed him. &ldquo;The Ogre from Leghorn&rdquo;
+was one of his titles, while some applied to him the
+choice epithet of &ldquo;The Red Demon from Italy.&rdquo; At
+any rate this did not seem to worry the veteran sea-dog,
+who continued to take prizes and make money
+until the year 1757. Then he disappears from history,
+for the body of brave, resolute, stubborn, and
+valiant Captain Fortunatus Wright mysteriously and
+suddenly vanished from this earth.</p>
+
+<p>What was his end?</p>
+
+<p>Perhaps he perished while boarding the deck of
+some craft which was manned by men as gallant as
+his own. Perhaps he fell while stemming the advance
+of a crew of wild Frenchmen, eager for his blood and
+remembering the many victories which he had won
+over their countrymen. Perhaps, in the wild, wind-tossed
+wastes of the Mediterranean, his vessel&mdash;unable
+to cope with the elements&mdash;was hurled upon
+some jagged rock and sunk in the sobbing waters of
+the frothing sea. Perhaps he was captured, hurried
+to some dark prison, and died in one of those many
+dungeons which disgrace the cities of the Italian coast.
+Perhaps he was hanged for privateering.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg&nbsp;197]</a></span>
+At any rate, nothing is known of the last days of
+this dauntless navigator save what can be gathered
+from an old grave in St. Peter&rsquo;s churchyard, in
+Liverpool.</p>
+
+<p>Here is the tombstone of the father of Fortunatus
+Wright, an inscription upon which, tells us that he
+was a master-mariner of Liverpool; that he defended
+his ship&mdash;on one occasion&mdash;most gallantly against
+two vessels of superior force; and that he died, not
+by the stroke of a boarding-pike, but safely in his own
+home. To this is added the information that:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Fortunatus Wright, his son, was always victorious,
+and humane to the vanquished. He was a constant
+terror to the enemies of his king and his country.&rdquo;
+That is all.</p>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg&nbsp;198]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>THE DEEP</h2>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">There&rsquo;s beauty in the deep:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The wave is bluer than the sky;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And though the lights shine bright on high,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">More softly do the sea-gems glow<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That sparkle in the depths below;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The rainbow tints are only made<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When on the waters they are laid.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And sea and moon most sweetly shine<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Upon the ocean&rsquo;s level brine.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">There&rsquo;s beauty in the deep.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">There&rsquo;s quiet in the deep.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Above, let tide and tempest rave,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And earth-born whirlwinds wake the wave;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Above, let care and fear contend<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With sin and sorrow to the end:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Here, far beneath the tainted foam<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That frets above our peaceful home,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We dream in joy, and walk in love,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor know the rage that yells above.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">There&rsquo;s quiet in the deep.<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<a name="Page_199" id="Page_199"><!-- unnumbered title page --></a>
+<p><span class='pagenum'></span></p>
+
+<h2>GEORGE WALKER<br />
+<br />
+WINNER OF THE GAMEST SEA FIGHT
+OF THE ENGLISH CHANNEL<br />
+<br />
+(1727-1777)</h2>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg&nbsp;200]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;War is Hell,&rsquo; said General William T. Sherman. But,&mdash;better
+have war than bow to an inferior nation.&rdquo;&mdash;<i>Doctrines of
+the Strenuous Life.</i></p>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg&nbsp;201]</a></span></p>
+
+<p class="center padtop">GEORGE WALKER<br />
+WINNER OF THE GAMEST SEA FIGHT OF
+THE ENGLISH CHANNEL<br />
+(1727-1777)</p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;If Britain can but breed th&rsquo; men,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who are like Walker made,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She&rsquo;ll have no fear of danger,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When th&rsquo; foe starts to invade.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When th&rsquo; foe starts to invade, my boys,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An&rsquo; creep along th&rsquo; shore,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where th&rsquo; curling breakers wash th&rsquo; cliffs,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where th&rsquo; breeching combers roar.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then, lift a glass to Walker,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of <i>Glorioso</i> fame,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>May we ne&rsquo;er forget his deed lads,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>May we ne&rsquo;er forget his name</i>.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class="author">&mdash;<i>Chants from The Channel.</i>&mdash;1769.</p>
+
+<p><span class="dropcap">I</span>T was the year 1739, and the good people of
+Charleston, South Carolina, were in a great state
+of agitation. Little knots of merchants, sailors,
+clerks, and dock-hands clustered about each other in
+the narrow streets. And, above the hub-bub of many
+voices, could be heard the solemn sentence, oft repeated:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The pirate is off the narrows! The pirate will
+soon be here!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Then all would gaze seaward with startled faces,
+and would murmur:</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg&nbsp;202]</a></span>
+&ldquo;The pirate&mdash;the Spanish pirate will be here.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>As they thus stood irresolutely, a strongly-knit
+fellow came walking towards the dock-end. He was
+clad in gray; his face was deeply seamed by long exposure
+to the elements; and high top-boots of leather
+encased his lower limbs.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What ho! Good citizens,&rdquo; said he. &ldquo;Do I understand
+that a Spaniard has frightened you all?
+Why, where&rsquo;s your courage?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Courage?&rdquo; answered a rotund-bodied merchant.
+&ldquo;Of that we have a plenty. But we have no ship with
+which to combat this fellow&mdash;or fellows&mdash;for some
+of my skippers tell me that there are two of them off
+the coast, and that they&rsquo;ve captured twenty trading
+vessels.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The newcomer smiled.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;ve got a staunch craft here,&rdquo; said he. &ldquo;My
+name is Walker, and I hail from Bristol, England.
+My ship&mdash;the <i>Duke William</i>&mdash;mounts but twenty
+guns, and my crew is but of thirty-two, yet, I know
+that many of you gentlemen will volunteer your services,
+particularly if there is to be a nice little battle.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Hear! Hear!&rdquo; came from all sides. &ldquo;You&rsquo;re the
+boy for us! You&rsquo;re the chap we&rsquo;ve been looking for!
+Hear! Hear!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>It did not take long to increase the crew of the
+<i>Duke William</i>. Several of the wealthy colonists volunteered
+their services; many sailors were there who
+had been fighting on the Spanish Main. They were
+eager and anxious to join. So, before three days were
+out, the <i>Duke William</i> spread her canvas for the open
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg&nbsp;203]</a></span>
+sea, carrying one hundred men and an additional
+twenty guns. Now&mdash;you see&mdash;she could put up an
+excellent fight with the average pirate-ship which
+cruised about the low-lying and sandy coast.</p>
+
+<p>Out into the broad expanse of the Atlantic glided
+the little barque and eagerly the mariners scanned the
+horizon for some signs of the pirate.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;She&rsquo;s been hereabouts!&rdquo; cried one stout seaman.
+&ldquo;For several of my mess-mates saw her sails down
+near the channel islands. And her flag was surely
+black with th&rsquo; skull an&rsquo; cross-bones.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Must have heard that we were coming, then,&rdquo;
+growled Captain Walker, &ldquo;for there&rsquo;s nothing in
+view.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>In an hour&rsquo;s time he thought differently, for,
+&ldquo;Sail ho!&rdquo; sounded from the forward deck, and
+there, far off to leeward, was the outline of a long,
+blackish vessel, bearing no flag at her mizzen or stern.</p>
+
+<p>Crowding on all canvas&mdash;for the breeze was light&mdash;the
+<i>Duke William</i> bore away towards her. &ldquo;It
+must be the pirate!&rdquo; said all, for, also crowding on
+all sail, the vessel headed up the coast, and did her
+utmost to get away.</p>
+
+<p>On, on, went pursuer and pursued; on, on, and the
+<i>Duke William</i> began to draw dangerously close to
+the fleeing vessel, which now could be easily seen.
+She was a brigantine, carrying about eighteen guns,
+with a high stern and graceful lines. No flags waved
+from her mast-heads.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly the scudding sea-warrior pointed her nose
+in-shore, ran around the corner of a sandy island, and
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg&nbsp;204]</a></span>
+bore away into a seemingly large lagoon upon the
+other side. The <i>Duke William</i> followed, and, as she
+rounded a jutting sand-spit, there before her lay a
+little schooner, on the deck of which were seen several
+sailors, waving and gesticulating frantically. Behind,
+and on the shore, was an earth-work, from which
+several cannon pointed their black muzzles. On a
+flag-pole in the centre, waved a Spanish flag, and,
+beneath it, a black ensign upon which was the skull-and-cross-bones.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It&rsquo;s the pirate stronghold!&rdquo; cried several, at once.
+&ldquo;We&rsquo;re in for a tight skirmish!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>But Captain Walker only smiled.</p>
+
+<p>The brigantine, which he had been following, now
+rounded-to, opened her port-holes, and fired a couple
+of shots toward the pursuing craft. At the same
+time an English flag was hoisted on the schooner, and
+a fellow on her deck sang out through a speaking
+trumpet.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Thank Heaven you have come! We were only
+captured two days ago! Hurrah for the English
+flag!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The <i>Duke William</i> kept on after the brigantine, her
+mixed crew yelling with joy, now that they were to
+have an action.</p>
+
+<p><em>Bang! Bang!</em></p>
+
+<p>Her two forward guns spoke, and a shot went ripping
+through one of the foresails of the pirate.</p>
+
+<p>This was enough for the fighting spirit of those who
+sailed the Spanish Main. For, putting about, the
+brigantine scudded through a narrow channel, known
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg&nbsp;205]</a></span>
+only to her skipper (for no one else could have followed
+without grounding upon a sand-spit), and was
+soon running away upon the opposite side of a low-lying
+island, now flaunting the pirate-flag from her
+halyards.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;She&rsquo;s gone!&rdquo; sadly remarked the gallant Captain
+Walker, &ldquo;but we can capture the gun-battery. Make
+ready to go ashore, if needed!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Steering for the coast, the guns of the <i>Duke William</i>
+opened upon the sandy barricade, and shot after shot
+was soon making the dirt and gravel fly in every direction:</p>
+
+<p><em>Poom! Poom! Cu-poom!</em></p>
+
+<p>The cannon in the earth-work next began to speak,
+and, it was apparent, from the strange noises which
+some of them made, that they were full of rust.</p>
+
+<p><em>Cu-Poom! Cu-Pow! Chuck-chuck-cu-swash!</em> they
+roared, and a few balls began to whistle about the
+spars of the <i>Duke William</i>.</p>
+
+<p>There were some accurate marksmen upon the
+deck of the British vessel, and, as she lay broadside
+to the fortification, one well-aimed shot struck a cannon
+and dismounted it; while another shattered the
+flag-pole and brought down the flag with a crash.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Hurrah!&rdquo; shouted the men from Charleston.
+&ldquo;Now we&rsquo;ll even up with these cursed pirates for all
+the damage that they&rsquo;ve done us. Now, we&rsquo;ll teach
+them not to ravage our coasts and catch our merchant
+ships!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><em>Cu-whow!</em> barked the rust-caked guns of the barricade.
+&ldquo;<em>Go-slow! Go-back! Go-home!</em>&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg&nbsp;206]</a></span>
+To this a full broadside roared, and the balls tore
+the top of the earth-work to shreds.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Now let thirty men take to the boats!&rdquo; commanded
+Captain Walker. &ldquo;Steer for the beach and
+rush the barricade with pistols and cutlasses. I don&rsquo;t
+believe that there are more than a dozen men inside
+the earth-work.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Huzzah!&rdquo; was the cheerful answer to this order,
+and, in a few moments, several boats were racing for
+the beach, each eager to be the first ashore.</p>
+
+<p>As they approached, the antiquated guns on the
+sand-spit became strangely silent, and, as the eager
+raiders rushed valiantly upon the pirate fortress, no
+shots were fired at them to impede their progress.
+With a wild yell they leaped over the side of the barricade,
+only to find it deserted; for whatever had been
+the force that had fired these cannon, it had taken to
+the brush as the English seamen drew near. Only a
+few charges of ammunition were there, so it was
+plainly evident that the pirates (whatever their
+strength might have been) could only have held out
+for a few more rounds.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Hurrah! Hurrah!&rdquo; shouted the raiders. &ldquo;The
+fort is ours!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And it&rsquo;s a sorry victory,&rdquo; said one of the crew,
+&ldquo;for there&rsquo;s nothing here worth the having, except
+the cannon, and they couldn&rsquo;t stand more than two
+more shots without blowing up. I call it a pretty
+hollow success.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>In spite of this the men of Charleston were well
+pleased. They had dispersed the pirates; taken their
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg&nbsp;207]</a></span>
+fort; and had re-captured a schooner which had recently
+been taken only a few miles from the harbor-mouth
+of that fair, southern city.</p>
+
+<p>When they sailed into their home port they received
+a tremendous ovation. The bells were rung in all the
+churches; shots were fired; trumpets were blown.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We could fall in with nothing that would stay for
+us upon the seas,&rdquo; said Captain Walker, modestly; but,
+in spite of this, he was treated like a great hero. All
+the influential persons in the Colony offered to sign
+a request that he might be given the command of a
+king&rsquo;s ship; but this he declined. So they tendered
+him an immense tract of land if he would remain in
+that country and drive off the pirates when next they
+became too bold and daring; but this he also declined,
+and stuck to his ship. In a few weeks he sailed for
+the Barbadoes, and then to England, in company with
+three unarmed trading-vessels which placed themselves
+under his convoy. The good people of Charleston
+bade him a sad and affectionate farewell.</p>
+
+<p>George Walker sailed forth smiling, but he was now
+to have far more trouble than his little affair with the
+pirates.</p>
+
+<p>When half way to England, a terrific gale struck
+the <i>Duke William</i> and her convoys, which separated
+them by many miles, and made this good vessel
+(which had dispersed the pirates) leak like a sieve.
+The gale continued in its violence, while Captain
+Walker was so ill that the ship&rsquo;s surgeon despaired of
+his life. But note how grit and nerve pulled him
+through!</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg&nbsp;208]</a></span>
+On the second day of the tempest, a sailor rushed
+into his cabin, crying:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Captain! Captain! We&rsquo;ll founder, for the water
+is pouring into our bottom by the hogshead. We&rsquo;re
+gone for unless we take to the boats!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Captain Walker was not the man to leave his ship
+in such a crisis.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Throw all of the guns overboard, but two!&rdquo; he
+ordered. &ldquo;We need those in order to signal for help
+if a vessel comes near us. That will lighten us so that
+we can still float awhile.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>This was done, but, as the last cannon shot into the
+waves, a sailor burst into his cabin with the intelligence
+that the men had prepared to desert in the tenders.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Carry me on deck!&rdquo; roared the resolute captain.
+&ldquo;I&rsquo;ll give these cowards a piece of my mind.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Three sailors seized him and bore him aloft, where
+he remonstrated with his men in the strongest language
+possible. In spite of this, many clustered about
+one of the boats.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The ship&rsquo;s a-sinking,&rdquo; cried one. &ldquo;She won&rsquo;t
+stand up for an hour.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>As he spoke, the welcome sound of, &ldquo;Sail ho!&rdquo;
+arose, above the wash and roar of the angry water.</p>
+
+<p>Sure enough, a ship was bearing down upon them,
+but, to the dismay of all, she hastily hauled off again.</p>
+
+<p>Captain Walker was astonished. &ldquo;She thinks us an
+armed enemy,&rdquo; said he. &ldquo;Fire a gun, men, and cut
+the mizzen-mast in two, so that it falls overboard.
+That will show the stranger that we&rsquo;re a friend in distress.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg&nbsp;209]</a></span>
+His orders were immediately obeyed and the mast
+came ripping and tearing over the side. A gun also
+roared, and the stranger, now convinced that the ship
+was a friend, and not a foe, came bearing down upon
+the crippled <i>Duke William</i>, to the rescue.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;She&rsquo;s one of our own convoy!&rdquo; shouted a seaman,
+waving his hand joyfully. And such she proved
+to be. Captain Walker had saved his crew by his
+foresight and quickness of decision. Had he thrown
+all of his cannon overboard he would have had no
+gun with which to hail the stranger, and, had he not
+cut away his own mast, she would have gone away,
+fearful that he was an enemy. Three cheers for the
+brave and thoughtful Captain Walker! He reached
+England, at last, but he and his men were in a sorry
+plight, for the vessel which had rescued them was
+almost as unseaworthy as their own, which sank in
+a great whirl of eddying foam, not half an hour after
+they had left her. Thus ended the career of the good
+ship which had chased all of the pirates away from the
+harbor of Charleston. A sad fate, indeed, for such a
+gallant craft.</p>
+
+<p>Captain Walker was not long idle, for he soon took
+charge of a brigantine trading to the Baltic Sea, in
+spite of the fact that war had been declared with
+France, and the privateers and gun-boats of that nation
+hovered in his path, eager and anxious to secure
+some English merchant vessel, as a prize.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I see that these fellows mean to catch me, if they
+can,&rdquo; said the keen-witted mariner. &ldquo;So I intend to
+be ready for them if I do not happen to be near an
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg&nbsp;210]</a></span>
+English man-of-warsman when they come sailing
+by.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He therefore shipped a number of wooden guns,
+which were painted black, so that, at a distance, they
+looked exactly like the real thing. Upon his vessel
+were only six cannon, so when&mdash;a short time afterwards&mdash;he
+was chased by a French privateer off the
+coast of Scotland&mdash;he had an excellent opportunity
+to &ldquo;bluff&rdquo; the bold marauder.</p>
+
+<p>As the Frenchman drew near, the vessel which Captain
+Walker was on kept steadily upon her way, and,
+through his glass, the cautious mariner saw that his
+pursuer carried fully twenty guns.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Run out our dummy cannon!&rdquo; he ordered.</p>
+
+<p>Out were thrust the black, wooden muzzles, twenty-five
+in number, and&mdash;as the Frenchman was now
+within shooting distance&mdash;the English boat was
+luffed into the wind. In a second the British jack,
+ensign, and man-of-war&rsquo;s pendant were hoisted, and a
+gun was fired across the bow of the arrogant privateer.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Come on!&rdquo; shouted bold Walker. &ldquo;I am waiting
+for you!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>But the enemy did not come on. Instead of this,
+she turned tail in a hurry, filled away, and made off
+as fast as a freshening breeze would drive her.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ha! Ha! Ha!&rdquo; laughed the genial, English
+skipper. &ldquo;Bluffed by a lot of wooden guns. Ha!
+Ha! Ha!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>And all of his sailors gave a rousing cheer.</p>
+
+<p>This was indeed good fortune, but Captain Walker
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg&nbsp;211]</a></span>
+was soon to meet with some fortune which was quite
+the reverse.</p>
+
+<p>It was the year 1744 and the doughty sailor had
+accepted the command of the privateer <i>Mars</i>, of
+twenty-six guns and one hundred and thirty men,
+which sailed from London for a cruise in the English
+channel. With her was the <i>Boscawen</i>, another privateer
+with about the same number of guns, but with a
+crew of fully one hundred and eighty. They soon
+had an adventure which was not all to the liking of
+bold George Walker.</p>
+
+<p>At midnight, late in December, the two privateers
+were running near the coast of France. There
+was a heavy mist and rain, also a fresh breeze,
+so the steersmen could not well see what way they
+were going. Suddenly the hulls of two large vessels
+loomed up in the blackness, and the twinkling lights
+from their port-holes shone upon the dripping sides of
+the British privateers. Voices came through the mist&mdash;French
+voices&mdash;so it was apparent that the ships
+were not friends.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Those fellows are showing much alarm,&rdquo; said
+Captain Walker, a few moments later. &ldquo;I therefore
+believe that the vessels are full of treasure. We&rsquo;ll
+hang on until daylight, at any rate, and see whether
+or no we cannot capture a rich cargo.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Next morning, at eight o&rsquo;clock, the fog suddenly
+lifted, disclosing&mdash;not two treasure ships&mdash;but two
+French men-of-war; one bearing seventy-four guns,
+the other sixty-four.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Egad!&rdquo; ejaculated the startled Walker. &ldquo;We&rsquo;re
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg&nbsp;212]</a></span>
+in a hornet&rsquo;s nest! I guess we&rsquo;d better run for
+it!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The Frenchmen, however, were both treasure-ships,
+as well as men-of-war; both bound from the West
+Indies, with cargoes worth about four millions sterling
+($20,000,000), which they were carrying into the
+harbor of Brest. They were not in good fighting
+trim, as their heavy cargoes made them low in the
+water, and very unwieldy. It is probable that they
+would not have attacked the two Englishmen, had not
+the captain of the <i>Boscawen</i> turned tail and fled, leaving
+the <i>Mars</i> all alone.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Did you ever see such a coward?&rdquo; cried Captain
+Walker, with heat. &ldquo;Boys! We&rsquo;re in for it now!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Sure enough, they were: for the Frenchmen saw
+that only one enemy was left, and immediately sent
+the sixty-four gun ship&mdash;the <i>Fleuron</i>&mdash;in pursuit.</p>
+
+<p>Walker turned his vessel about and clapped on
+all sail, but the large gun-boat quickly overhauled
+him.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Gentlemen!&rdquo; said Captain Walker, as she rapidly
+approached. &ldquo;I do not mean to be so rash as to attempt
+a regular engagement with so superior a force;
+all I ask of you is to confide in me and my orders, to
+get away&mdash;if possible&mdash;without striking our flag;
+and, be assured, I shall not call upon you to fight unless
+there is excellent opportunity for success. The
+ship which pursues us is certainly the better sailer of
+the two French men-of-war; yet, if we have good
+fortune with our shots, we may bring down a topmast
+or yard; or hurt her rigging so as to retard her
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg&nbsp;213]</a></span>
+pursuit. We may yet get entirely clear. So, my hearties,
+do not lose your nerve!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>These wise remarks were greeted with a &ldquo;Hip!
+Hip! Hooray!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Now was a lively chase. The <i>Mars</i> hoisted the
+English flag, opened with her stern guns, and put on
+all available canvas. But she was not a fast sailer,
+and gradually but surely, the <i>Fleuron</i> crept up on one
+side, and the other French man-of-war upon the other.
+She, too, had entered the chase.</p>
+
+<p>Finally the French vessels had the British privateer
+directly between them.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The jig is up!&rdquo; cried Captain Walker, sadly.
+&ldquo;Gentlemen, we do not strike to one ship only. Haul
+down the colors!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Down came the proud ensign, the sails were lowered,
+and the gallant Walker entered a boat, in order
+that he might be put aboard the <i>Fleuron</i> and give up
+his sword. When he arrived on the deck he found the
+French captain by no means in the politest of humors.</p>
+
+<p>After receiving the weapon of the vanquished privateersman,
+the Frenchman thundered in very good
+English:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;How dare you fire against a force like mine in so
+small a ship? Sirrah, you must be stark mad. I
+compliment you upon your lack of judgment.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Captain Walker was nettled.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Sir,&rdquo; he replied, with warmth, &ldquo;if you will look
+at my commission you will find that I had as good a
+right to fight as you, yourself, had. Furthermore, if
+my force had not been so inferior to yours, I would
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg&nbsp;214]</a></span>
+have shown you more civil treatment on board my
+own ship, after I had captured you.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The Frenchman winced.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;How many of your bushwhackers have I killed?&rdquo;
+said he.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;None at all, sir!&rdquo; replied the Englishman.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Then, sir, you should be well ashamed of your
+scurvy fighting. For you have killed six of my brave
+men and have wounded several with pieces of glass.
+Pray, when, sir, did the rules of war allow glass to
+be used as ammunition?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You lie,&rdquo; cried Captain Walker. &ldquo;No glass was
+used by my men.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The Frenchman curbed his anger.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Then what was it?&rdquo; said he.</p>
+
+<p>Here a British seaman interrupted.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;If it would please your French Majesty,&rdquo; he said,
+with a bow, &ldquo;I reckon I know what it was that you
+took for glass. The captain of one of our stern guns,
+when he found out that we must surrender, sir, took
+about sixteen shillings from his pocket, saying:
+&lsquo;Sooner than let these French rascals plunder me of
+all I&rsquo;ve got in the world, I&rsquo;ll see what a bribe can do!&rsquo;
+So he wrapped the money up in a bag, sir, crammed
+it into a gun, and let fly at your deck. Faith, your
+men were lucky to be struck by good, British coin!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>At this all had a good laugh, and the unpleasantness
+between the French captain and George Walker was
+at an end. The privateersman was treated with the
+greatest courtesy and was made as comfortable as
+could be.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg&nbsp;215]</a></span>
+The action took place on Friday and the ships were
+headed for Brest, about three days&rsquo; sail away. At daybreak
+on Sunday morning, four large boats were
+sighted astern, and it did not take long to realize that
+they were coming up pretty fast <em>and were flying the
+English colors</em>.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Hurray!&rdquo; shouted Captain Walker. &ldquo;No French
+prison for me. Hurray!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The English squadron gained steadily. The boats
+grew nearer and nearer, while Walker&rsquo;s hopes soared
+higher and higher. Finally, the French officer, who
+was in charge of his own boat&mdash;the <i>Mars</i>&mdash;put his
+helm up and ran to leeward, hoping to draw one of
+the British vessels after him. He was successful, for
+a seventy-gun ship made after him, chased him for
+several miles, and finally re-captured the English
+privateer. The other ships kept on and drew closer
+and closer.</p>
+
+<p>Seeing that an action would soon take place, the
+French captain politely requested Walker and his
+officers to go below.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Messieurs!&rdquo; said he. &ldquo;There will soon be a leetle
+affair in which the balls will fly. You will be better
+off in the hold, where they cannot reach you so easily
+as up here.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Sir!&rdquo; replied the English privateer-captain. &ldquo;I
+go below with the greatest of pleasure, for I am now
+certain of my liberty. Au revoir!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Do not count your chickens before they hatch!&rdquo;
+cried the Frenchman, after his retreating form.</p>
+
+<p>The British vessels were the <i>Hampton Court</i> of
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg&nbsp;216]</a></span>
+seventy guns, and the <i>Sunderland</i> and <i>Dreadnought</i> of
+sixty each; so, being three to two, they should have
+had a fairly easy victory over the Frenchmen. But
+the <i>Sunderland</i> lost a spar overboard, and dropped
+astern; so it left but two to two: an even affair.</p>
+
+<p>Alas for gallant Captain Walker! Although the
+Englishmen came near the two French men-of-war,
+they hung about without firing a shot; allowed the
+Frenchmen to sail on unmolested, and thus carry their
+astonishingly rich treasure into Brest, amid wild and
+enthusiastic cheering of their crews, and groans of disappointment
+from the English prisoners.</p>
+
+<p>Yet these same prisoners had little cause to complain
+of their treatment when they arrived at Brest;
+for they were landed at once, and the captain and officers
+were liberated on parole. The French also
+treated them very well and invited the valorous George
+Walker to many a repast, where they laughed at the
+narrow shave that he had had from death,&mdash;for they
+had left the <i>Fleuron</i> none too soon.</p>
+
+<p>On the day following the landing, Captain Walker
+was seated in the office of a counting-house, near the
+dock-end, and was writing a letter to the captain of
+the <i>Fleuron</i>, requesting him to send him his letter-of-credit,
+which was in a tin box in a cabin of the French
+man-of-war, when a terrible <em>Boom!</em> sounded upon his
+ears.</p>
+
+<p>A sailor came running past the open window.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The <i>Fleuron</i> has blown up!&rdquo; he cried. &ldquo;The
+<i>Fleuron</i> is a total loss!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Captain Walker dashed into the street; to the end
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[Pg&nbsp;217]</a></span>
+of the quay; and there a sad spectacle greeted his
+eager gaze. Strewn about upon the surface of the
+water were broken spars; pieces of sail; and the d&eacute;bris
+of a once gallant man-of-war. The remnants of
+the <i>Fleuron</i> were burning brightly.</p>
+
+<p>The captain of the French ship came running by.
+&ldquo;Helas!&rdquo; he wailed. &ldquo;A careless gunner has destroyed
+my gallant vessel. Helas! Helas!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>It was too true. Four or five powder barrels had
+been left in the magazine for saluting purposes, and
+quite a little loose powder had been allowed to lie upon
+the floor. Some careless seamen had gone down into
+the hold with a decrepit, old lantern. The handle
+broke, the flame set fire to the loose powder,&mdash;and
+that was the end of the gallant ship <i>Fleuron</i>. She
+burned to the water&rsquo;s edge and then went down to the
+bottom with a dull, sizzling hiss; while the treasure
+also disappeared. Later on, divers secured a part of
+it, but much that was of value was never recovered.</p>
+
+<p>Captain Walker did not long grieve over the loss of
+his letter-of-credit, left on board the ill-starred <i>Fleuron</i>,
+for he was exchanged, after a few weeks, and
+was sent back to England with his crew. This was in
+1745. He lost no time in reporting to the owners of
+the <i>Mars</i>, and so well did they think of him, that in
+a short while they sent him upon another privateering
+venture aboard the <i>Boscawen</i>, which, as you remember,
+had run away from the <i>Mars</i>, after she had fallen in
+with the two French men-of-war. Now occurred his
+greatest sea-fight.</p>
+
+<p>The <i>Boscawen</i> had been built in France and had
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg&nbsp;218]</a></span>
+been a prize, taken at sea. She mounted twenty-eight
+guns (nine-pounders), but Walker added two more,
+and shipped a crew of three hundred and fourteen men.
+Without waiting for the <i>Mars</i>, the stout sea-dog put
+out to sea on April 19th, 1745, steering for the shores
+of France where cruised the prize-laden clipper ships,
+and the unwelcome men-of-warsmen. The British
+privateersman cruised about for a whole month without
+any luck, and, falling in with the privateer <i>Sheerness</i>,
+joined with her in a little run in search of inoffensive
+merchantmen. At daybreak a cry came from
+the forward watch,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Sails ho! Sails ho! Off the starboard quarter!
+There&rsquo;re eight o&rsquo; them an&rsquo; heading no&rsquo; east.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Both the privateers started in pursuit, but the <i>Sheerness</i>
+was left far astern, as the <i>Boscawen</i> was a speedy
+sailer. The latter drew near the eight scudding sail,
+which suddenly veered about and formed a line, awaiting
+an attack. The <i>Sheerness</i> was way astern. Would
+Captain Walker advance?</p>
+
+<p>It was eight against one, and there was no certainty
+what was the armament of the vessels now standing
+in a row, all ready for action. The faces of the officers
+on the <i>Boscawen</i> showed anxiety and suspense, but
+there was no shadow of fear upon the countenance of
+Captain Walker, who now addressed them in the following
+words:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Gentlemen, I hope that you do not think the number
+of prizes before us too many. Be assured, my
+good friends, that by their being armed, they have
+something on board of them that is worth defending.
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg&nbsp;219]</a></span>
+I take them to be merchantmen with letters of marque
+(privateers), and homeward bound. Without doubt
+we shall meet with some opposition, in which I know
+that you will exhibit your usual courage. We must
+conquer these superior numbers by superior skill. Be
+cool. Be careful that you aim correctly, for, as we
+shall be pressed on all sides, let every man do his best
+to engage the enemy that he sees before him.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;In a word, Gentlemen, if you will put full confidence
+in me for leading you on, I will pawn my life
+upon the fact that I will bring you off victorious.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Hurray! Hurray for Walker!&rdquo; came the reassuring
+response.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Then go to your quarters, my hearties! Fight like
+Britishers of old, and all will be well!&rdquo; cried the brave
+mariner.</p>
+
+<p>Like a hornet among a group of snap-dragons, the
+<i>Boscawen</i> now sailed into the centre of the enemy&rsquo;s
+line.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Do not fire until I give the word!&rdquo; cried Captain
+Walker, as the salt spray kicked and splashed about
+the bow of the on-coming <i>Boscawen</i>. &ldquo;Then hammer
+away like anvils on a sledge!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Sixty men were ill on board the stout little English
+privateer, but all save three crawled on deck in order
+to render what assistance they could in pointing and
+handling the guns.</p>
+
+<p>Now was a glorious fight.</p>
+
+<p><em>Bang! Crash! Z-i-i-p!</em></p>
+
+<p>The French privateers were hammering away as the
+Englishman approached and their balls cut and tore
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg&nbsp;220]</a></span>
+through the rigging, damaging the mizzen topsail,
+and splitting a topmast. Steering straight for the
+largest vessel, Walker waited until he was within close
+range and then gave the order:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Fire, and hull her if you can.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><em>Poof! Cr-a-a-sh!</em></p>
+
+<p>A blinding broadside rolled from the port of the
+<i>Boscawen</i>, and the solid shot bit and tore the stranger
+like a terrier mouthing a rat.</p>
+
+<p>The valiant little privateer was now in the midst
+of the enemy. Two were to right of her; two to the
+left of her; one across her bow; and one across her
+stern. Two of the eight decamped, at this juncture;
+making the odds six, instead of eight, to one.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;<em>Pow! Pow! Cu-boom!</em>&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The vessel astern was banging away like a Banshee,
+but a sudden <em>crash</em> from the stern guns so badly damaged
+her that she hauled off. It was now five to one.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Keep it up, boys!&rdquo; cried Walker, above the roar
+and rattle of the fray. &ldquo;You&rsquo;re doing splendidly.
+You all deserve statues in the temple of fame.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Huzzah!&rdquo; shouted his men. &ldquo;Hurray for the
+<i>Boscawen</i>. Down with the Frenchmen!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;<em>Cu-pow! Boom! Boom!</em>&rdquo; roared the cannon,
+while the broadsides from the <i>Boscawen</i> were delivered
+without either confusion or disorder. The five were
+sparring gamely, but they were lightly armed, with
+only a few guns to each, so the thirty nine-pounders
+on board the English privateer were about an equal
+match for the greater numbers of the foe.</p>
+
+<p>Thus the fight raged for an hour, when, suddenly,
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg&nbsp;221]</a></span>
+the ensign upon the mast of the French flagship was
+seen to flutter to the deck. Ten minutes later a cry
+arose from a sailor aboard the <i>Boscawen</i>:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Look, Captain, she&rsquo;s sinking!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Sure enough, the accurate fire from the British
+privateer had so riddled the hull of the Frenchman,
+that she fast filled with water, and sank, stern first,
+her men escaping in their small boats.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That&rsquo;s one less, anyway,&rdquo; mused Captain Walker.</p>
+
+<p>The remaining four continued the fight, but the
+little privateer was too much for them. Around and
+around she veered, broadsiding with astonishing accuracy,
+and knocking the spars about like a foot-ball
+team kicking a ball. &ldquo;<em>Pow! Pow!</em>&rdquo; the guns roared,
+and the men cried, &ldquo;Remember the oath of our captain!
+Let&rsquo;s take &rsquo;em all!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>It began to look as if they would do it, too; for,
+now upon the starboard quarter appeared the white
+sails of a vessel, and, as she approached, a joyous cheer
+arose from the deck of the <i>Boscawen</i>, for it was the
+<i>Sheerness</i>.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Now we&rsquo;ll get &rsquo;em! Now we&rsquo;ll get &rsquo;em!&rdquo; yelled
+the British sailors, and they plied their guns with renewed
+activity and care.</p>
+
+<p>Down came the flag upon one of the Frenchmen,
+and&mdash;in a few moments&mdash;down came another.
+Then, as the <i>Sheerness</i> rolled closer, two more ensigns
+fluttered to the deck. There was but one Frenchman
+left, and she made off, with the newcomer hot in pursuit.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Hurray! Hurray! Hurray!&rdquo; The sailors on
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg&nbsp;222]</a></span>
+board the <i>Boscawen</i> were fairly jumping for joy.
+&ldquo;Hurray! Hurray! Hurray!&rdquo; they yelled.</p>
+
+<p>And well might they cheer, for had they not won
+one of the pluckiest sea-fights of all history? The
+enemy is said to have had one hundred and thirteen
+killed and drowned, while the casualties of the <i>Boscawen</i>
+amounted to but one killed and seven wounded.
+&ldquo;And this,&rdquo; says an old chronicler of the spirited affair,
+&ldquo;was due to the fact that the British privateer
+had a bulwark of elm-planking, man-high, around her
+deck. It was so fashioned that there was a step on
+which the marines could mount and fire, and then
+come down in order to load. Furthermore, this elm-wood
+did not splinter; but kept out the bullets, and
+closed up around the holes made by shot.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>At any rate, it was a glorious victory, and when&mdash;a
+few hours later&mdash;the <i>Sheerness</i> came back with the
+other French vessel a prize, the total capture amounted
+to six vessels: homeward bound traders from Martinique,
+provided with letters of marque, and with
+about six guns each. Their crews were undoubtedly
+undisciplined and ill-used to shooting, else how could
+they have done so badly with the <i>Boscawen</i>?</p>
+
+<p>The prizes were headed for the English coast and
+arrived at King&rsquo;s Road, Bristol, in a few days, where
+a swarm of eager sight-seers crowded about the shattered
+craft.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;My! My!&rdquo; said many. &ldquo;This Walker is another
+Drake. He is a valiant soul!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>And so thought the British Admiralty, for they sent
+him a letter (upon his reporting to them) which read:</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg&nbsp;223]</a></span>
+&ldquo;We cannot too highly congratulate and commend
+you upon the seamanship and courage which you have
+displayed in the capture of these French vessels. Your
+daring and ability should always make your name one
+to be revered by those Britishers who follow the sea.
+May your future career upon the ocean but add to the
+laurels which you have already won!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>And were they not right?</p>
+
+<p>Seldom has such a feat been accomplished, and
+seldom has one vessel come off victorious against such
+odds. If you love a game warrior, cheer for George
+Walker, for he deserves it. If you are an admirer of
+the fighting quality in a man, give three times three
+for the privateersman who had the nerve to sail into
+eight vessels,&mdash;and won out.</p>
+
+<p>So much, indeed, did the British owners of the privateer
+vessels think of Captain Walker, that he was
+now placed in command of four ships, known as &ldquo;The
+Royal Family of Privateers,&rdquo; for each was named
+after some member of the English royal family. These
+were the <i>Princess Amelia</i>, of twenty-four guns and
+one hundred and fifty men: the <i>Prince Frederick</i> of
+twenty-six guns and two hundred and sixty men: the
+<i>Duke</i> of twenty guns and two hundred and sixty men;
+and the <i>King George</i>, of thirty-two guns and three
+hundred men. This last boat was commanded by
+Walker, himself; the <i>Duke</i> by Edward Dottin, a
+staunch sailor; the <i>Prince Frederick</i> by Hugh
+Bromedge; and the <i>Princess Amelia</i> by Robert Denham.
+The entire squadron carried nearly a thousand
+men and one hundred and two guns, so, you see, that
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg&nbsp;224]</a></span>
+it could do quite a little damage to the enemies of
+Merrie England.</p>
+
+<p>Sailing in May, 1746, the squadron soon met with
+hard luck, for the <i>Prince Frederick</i> ran upon a rock
+in Bristol Channel, and had to be left behind; for she
+was badly punctured below the water-line. The three
+others sailed for the coast of France, and&mdash;a week
+later&mdash;had a startling little adventure.</p>
+
+<p>A heavy fog lay over the sobbing water, and the
+three English sea-robbers were gliding along within
+easy gun-shot of each other, when it was evident that
+they were near some other vessels. Voices came out
+of the mist, lights flashed (for it was near the close of
+day), and the wash of water could be heard, as the
+waves beat against solid oak planking.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Egad!&rdquo; whispered Captain Walker to one of his
+lieutenants. &ldquo;Listen, my boy, and tell me whether
+these voices are French, Spanish, or English.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The lieutenant held a speaking-trumpet to his ear.</p>
+
+<p>The <em>swish</em>, <em>swish</em> of water came to the eager senses
+of the anxious privateersman. That was all!</p>
+
+<p>Captain Walker passed the word around among
+his men to be absolutely silent, and, as he strained his
+hearing, in order to catch the faintest sound from the
+strangers, suddenly he heard the sentence,</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Pressy! Chantez une chanson. Je vais me
+coucher.&rdquo; (Sing a song, Pressy. I am going to
+bed.)</p>
+
+<p>In a second the gallant Walker knew that, as once
+before, he was in the midst of some French vessels.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg&nbsp;225]</a></span>
+&ldquo;Caught!&rdquo; he whispered. &ldquo;And I believe that
+they&rsquo;re men-of-warsmen! Now we&rsquo;re in a pretty
+pickle!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>His officers scowled.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I know that they&rsquo;re men-o&rsquo;-warsmen,&rdquo; said one,
+&ldquo;for, just now, the fog lifted for a second, and I could
+make out&mdash;by their lights&mdash;that they were large
+gun-ships.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Captain Walker looked dejected.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The deuce,&rdquo; said he.</p>
+
+<p>But he soon regained his composure.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Put every light out on board,&rdquo; he ordered.
+&ldquo;These fellows see us, for I hear them bearing over
+our way.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Sure enough, from the swashing of water and glimmer
+of lights in the fog, it could be seen that the great
+lumbering men-of-war were closing in upon the privateer.
+But the Frenchmen had a human eel to capture
+and he was equal to the occasion.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Bring up a couple of casks from below!&rdquo; cried
+Captain Walker. They were soon on deck.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Now put a lantern in one and lash them together,&rdquo;
+he continued. &ldquo;We&rsquo;ll alter our course and skip, while
+the Frenchies will follow this light.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The ruse worked magnificently, and, when morning
+dawned and the bright sun burned off the fog, the
+French men-of-war found themselves hovering around
+a couple of old casks with a lantern tied to the top;
+while Captain Walker in the <i>King George</i> was scudding
+along the French coast, many miles away. At
+which the French captain remarked,</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg&nbsp;226]</a></span>
+&ldquo;Sapristi! L&rsquo;oiseau s&rsquo;est envol&eacute;.&rdquo; (Egad! The
+bird has flown!)</p>
+
+<p>Not long after this &ldquo;The Royal Family of Privateers&rdquo;
+took some valuable prizes, and, having chased
+a small, French merchantman into the bay of Safia, in
+Morocco, Captain Walker determined to capture her
+at night, by sending a party against her in the long-boats.
+A second lieutenant was put in charge of this
+venture, and, at dark three tenders, crowded with
+armed seamen and propelled by muffled oars, started
+after the prize. As they neared the merchantman a
+hail came through the blackness:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Qui est la?&rdquo; (Who is there?)</p>
+
+<p>No answer was made to this, but the boats kept
+straight on.</p>
+
+<p><em>Crash! Bang!</em></p>
+
+<p>A gun roared in the faces of the privateers, and
+shots came falling around them like hail-stones,&mdash;but
+still they kept on.</p>
+
+<p>Again <em>Crash! Crash! Crash!</em></p>
+
+<p>The Frenchmen were plying their guns right willingly,
+but the English sailors could not be stopped,
+and they neared the vessel under vigorous sweeps of
+the oars. The lieutenant in command was badly
+wounded, and was forced to lie in the bottom of his
+boat, but&mdash;in a few moments&mdash;the tenders were
+alongside the merchantman, and the sailors, with a
+wild yell, were clambering to her deck. There was a
+fierce hand-to-hand struggle, but nothing would gainsay
+the rush of the British tars. In twenty minutes
+the fight was all over and the vessel was towed out of
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg&nbsp;227]</a></span>
+the bay, in triumph, next morning. As she was a
+smart, little craft she was turned into a privateer in
+place of the <i>Prince Frederick</i> (which had run
+aground) and was christened the <i>Prince George</i>.</p>
+
+<p>The &ldquo;Royal Family&rdquo; continued upon its way, made
+many captures, and&mdash;after eight months&mdash;put into
+the harbor of Lisbon with prizes and prize-money
+amounting to &pound;220,000 (about $1,100,000). So you
+can see that privateering was a very lucrative trade in
+those days, when successfully pursued. Not a single
+man had been killed aboard the little fleet, but many
+had been severely wounded. The ships were overhauled,
+refitted, and, being joined by the <i>Prince
+Frederick</i>, amounted to six in number, for the vessel
+captured in the harbor of Safia had been converted
+into a full-fledged privateer. Now was to be one of
+the most gruelling sea-fights in which George Walker
+ever engaged.</p>
+
+<p>In the month of October the squadron was cruising
+off of Lagos Bay, on the coast of Portugal, when a
+large sail was sighted at about five in the morning.
+The <i>Princess Amelia</i> was at anchor in the harbor of
+Lagos, so Captain Walker sent a small sloop (a recent
+capture) after her to tell her to &ldquo;Hurry up and
+get under way,&rdquo; while he gave signal to the other
+vessels to chase the stranger at once. All started after
+the foreigner, who stood to the northward and could
+be seen to be crowding on all possible canvas. There
+were four ships in this merry little chase, but two of
+them&mdash;the <i>Duke</i> and the <i>Prince George</i>&mdash;dropped
+out, after about an hour&rsquo;s run. They either could not
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg&nbsp;228]</a></span>
+get up, or else their captains grew tired of the affair.</p>
+
+<p>On, on, went the other privateers, and&mdash;at about
+noon&mdash;Walker drew near the fugitive, in the <i>King
+George</i>. The <i>Prince Frederick</i>, with her twenty-six
+guns, was still some distance away, but Walker kept
+after the stranger, although he now saw that she was
+a large vessel,&mdash;much more powerful than the <i>King
+George</i>, with her thirty-two guns and three hundred
+men. He was rapidly nearing the big fellow, when it
+grew suddenly calm, so that neither could move.</p>
+
+<p>At this moment an ejaculation of astonishment
+burst from the lips of some of the officers aboard the
+saucy <i>King George</i>.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;She&rsquo;s a seventy-four!&rdquo; cried several. &ldquo;We&rsquo;re in
+a tight hole!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Sure enough, the pursued hoisted her colors, ran
+out her guns, and showed herself to be a man-of-warsman
+carrying seventy-four cannon: over double
+the amount of armament aboard the plucky <i>King
+George</i>.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I can&rsquo;t make out whether she&rsquo;s Spanish or Portuguese,&rdquo;
+said Captain Walker, gazing carefully at her
+drooping flag.</p>
+
+<p>The colors hung down in the dead calm, and it was
+impossible to tell whether they were Spanish or Portuguese;
+for the two ensigns&mdash;at that period&mdash;were
+very similar.</p>
+
+<p>The sea-warriors drifted along, eyeing each other,
+for about an hour, when the stranger ran in her lower
+deck-guns and closed her port-holes.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg&nbsp;229]</a></span>
+&ldquo;She&rsquo;s a treasure ship,&rdquo; cried a sailor. &ldquo;And she
+won&rsquo;t fight if she can avoid it!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Walker turned to his officers and asked,</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Gentlemen, shall we fight her?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Aye! Aye!&rdquo; came from all. &ldquo;She&rsquo;s afraid of
+us!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The vessel, in fact, was a treasure ship which had
+been recently chased by some English men-of-war and
+had already landed her treasure, to the value of about
+one million sterling (about $5,000,000). A slight
+breeze sprang up, at about five in the afternoon, and
+the big ship kept on her course; the gamey <i>King
+George</i> following, while the white sails of the <i>Prince
+Frederick</i> were far astern, as the breeze had not yet
+struck her. So they swashed along, the Englishmen
+anxious for a fight, and a chance to overhaul the supposed
+treasure which the stranger was carrying. At
+eight o&rsquo;clock the <i>King George</i> was struck by a favorable
+puff of wind, and came quite close to the seventy-four.
+It was time for battle.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What ship is that?&rdquo; hailed Captain Walker, in
+the Portuguese tongue. He was cleared for action
+and his men were all lying down at their quarters.
+There was no answer to his challenge.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What ship is that?&rdquo; he asked again; this time in
+English.</p>
+
+<p>A voice came back,&mdash;also in English,</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And what ship may you be?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The <i>King George</i>.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><em>Crash! B-oo-m!</em></p>
+
+<p>A thundering broadside belched from the side of
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[Pg&nbsp;230]</a></span>
+the seventy-four, dismounting two guns on the port
+side of the <i>King George</i>, and bringing the main topsail
+yard crashing to the deck. It was now bright moonlight,
+and in its radiance the flag of the stranger was
+seen to blow straight out, disclosing her nationality to
+be Spanish. She was the <i>Glorioso</i>: a strong and powerful
+vessel, ably officered and ably manned. She
+towered above the little <i>King George</i> like a church-spire,
+and her broadsides now sputtered with great
+regularity.</p>
+
+<p><em>Crash! Crash! Crash!</em></p>
+
+<p>The sprightly little <i>King George</i> kept after the big
+warship like a sword-fish chasing a whale. She drew
+so close that some burning wads from the Spanish
+guns set fire to her mainsail. Continually hoping that
+the <i>Prince Frederick</i> would come up, the gallant
+Walker hammered away at the <i>Glorioso</i> with furious
+precision, and drove her so near the rocks off Cape
+Vincent that the castle guns began to play upon the
+two grappling warriors of the sea. The British sea-captain
+fought and commanded with &ldquo;a calmness
+peculiar to himself&rdquo; and his example secured order
+and discipline even in the thickest of the fight, when
+the mainsail was set on fire. He was magnificent in
+action.</p>
+
+<p>So the unequal struggle kept on. By half-past ten
+the <i>King George</i> had been so severely damaged aloft
+that she could not have escaped if she had tried. All
+the braces were shot away; the foremast was quite
+disabled; and the mainmast was badly splintered.
+Battered, torn, and distressed she kept banging away
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[Pg&nbsp;231]</a></span>
+at the great, towering Spaniard; while the big fellow
+ceased her fire somewhat, and ever now and again
+let go a broadside, like the blow from the mouth of a
+huge whale. It sounded like, <em>Chu-spow!</em></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;">
+<a name="action_between_ships" id="action_between_ships"></a>
+<img src="images/fpas14.jpg" width="600" height="353" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">ACTION BETWEEN THE &ldquo;GLORIOSO&rdquo; AND THE &ldquo;KING GEORGE&rdquo; AND &ldquo;PRINCE FREDERICK&rdquo; UNDER GEORGE WALKER.</p>
+
+<p>But hurrah! hurrah! The <i>Prince Frederick</i> had at
+last caught the breeze, and came bouncing by, her little
+pennons fluttering like so many silk stockings on a
+clothes-line.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Are you all well?&rdquo; shouted her commander, as
+he neared the splintered <i>King George</i>. &ldquo;You look as
+if you&rsquo;re sinking.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Captain Walker came to the rail with the speaking-trumpet
+in his hand.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;One killed and fifteen wounded,&rdquo; he answered.
+&ldquo;Now sail after that Spanish villain and take her,
+in revenge for all the damage that she has done me.
+She&rsquo;s a treasure ship.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;All right,&rdquo; Captain Dottin called back, and he
+kept on after the <i>Glorioso</i>, which was now rapidly
+drawing away.</p>
+
+<p>By the bright moonlight it could be seen that the
+<i>Duke</i> and the <i>Prince George</i> were also approaching.
+And, when they came close enough to the maimed
+and battered <i>King George</i>, her captain called to them,
+&ldquo;to keep on after the Spaniard, and catch the rascal.&rdquo;
+They continued on their way, and, at daybreak the
+three vessels could be seen, through the glass, as they
+closed in upon the Spanish game-cock from three
+sides. &ldquo;She&rsquo;ll be ours before nightfall,&rdquo; said Captain
+Walker, chuckling.</p>
+
+<p>The headmost ship, apparently the <i>Duke</i> under
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[Pg&nbsp;232]</a></span>
+Captain Dottin, could now be seen to hotly engage the
+<i>Glorioso</i>, which greatly displeased the captain of the
+dismantled <i>King George</i>.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Dottin will fire away all of his cartridges,&rdquo; said
+he, turning to a few of his officers, who clustered
+around him. &ldquo;He will shoot them all off at too great
+a distance, and will afterwards be obliged to load
+with loose powder, by which some fatal accident is
+sure to occur. He&rsquo;s a brave fellow, but a rash one!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He had scarcely spoken, when a broadside rang out.
+Simultaneously, with the discharge of the guns, a
+pillar of smoke and flame shot high into the air.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Good Heavens, the <i>Duke</i> has blown up!&rdquo; cried
+Captain Walker. &ldquo;Dottin and his brave followers
+have found a watery grave!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It is merely the smoke of a broadside,&rdquo; one of the
+officers interrupted.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No! No!&rdquo; answered Walker, dejectedly. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s
+the last that will ever be seen of noble Dottin and his
+men!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The smoke now cleared away and no ship was to be
+seen upon the surface of the water. The <i>Glorioso</i>
+was still-belching both smoke and flame, and near her
+were three sails, indistinctly seen through a haze of
+smoke and fog. Could it not have been the <i>Duke</i>,
+after all? &ldquo;Vain thought,&rdquo; cried bold Walker, aloud.
+&ldquo;Our bravest and best ship has gone to the bottom.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>This terrible incident had such an effect upon the
+seamen of the <i>King George</i> that Captain Walker called
+the officers aside into the companionway, and there
+made them a speech.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[Pg&nbsp;233]</a></span>
+&ldquo;My brave men,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;you must keep up an
+air of cheerfulness before these fellows of ours, for,
+otherwise they will be backward in fighting, and will
+not have the courage which we desire. Go among
+them and show no sign that you are lacking in pleasantry.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>As he ceased speaking there was a series of sudden
+explosions, mingled with cries of alarm.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Gad zooks! What&rsquo;s happened!&rdquo; cried all, rushing
+to the deck.</p>
+
+<p>They found matters in a sorry state, for the crew
+was in a panic; some clinging outside the ship; some
+climbing out upon the bowsprit, all ready to jump
+overboard should the vessel blow up.</p>
+
+<p>Captain Walker was astonished. &ldquo;Why, men!&rdquo;
+said he. &ldquo;What means this confusion?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>It was easily explained, for the alarm had been
+caused by a seaman who stepped upon a number of
+loaded muskets, which had been covered by a sail.
+One was fired off accidentally, and this exploded some
+spare ammunition, set the sail on fire, and completely
+demoralized the crew; who still were thinking of the
+sad tragedy which they had just witnessed. Order
+was quickly restored, the blazing sail was torn down
+and bucketed, and the terrified sailors came back to
+their posts. When men have their nerves shattered, it
+is easy to startle them.</p>
+
+<p>But how about the <i>Glorioso</i>?</p>
+
+<p>The fair-fighting Spaniard was far out of sight, by
+now, still whanging away at her many enemies, and
+still proudly flaunting the flag of Arragon in the faces
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[Pg&nbsp;234]</a></span>
+of the British war-dogs, who were snapping and snarling
+at her like a wolf pack. What became of her was
+not known for several days, when the poor, battered
+<i>King George</i> staggered into a sheltering harbor, there
+to meet with the <i>Duke</i> herself, which was Dottin&rsquo;s
+good ship,&mdash;the one which all had thought to have
+exploded and sunk.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Hurray!&rdquo; shouted many. &ldquo;She&rsquo;s afloat after
+all!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Eager questioning brought out the fact that it had
+been the frigate <i>Dartmouth</i> which had exploded; a
+vessel which had run near the fight in order to see
+the fun. Some loose powder had set fire to her magazine,
+and thus she had suffered the same fate as the
+<i>Fleuron</i>, which, as you remember, had blown up, when
+at anchor in the harbor of Brest. <em>It&rsquo;s a wise ship that
+keeps away from a sea battle.</em></p>
+
+<p>Only seventeen of the crew of this unfortunate
+craft had been picked up by the boats of the <i>Prince
+Frederick</i>; one of whom was an Irish lieutenant
+named O&rsquo;Brien, who was hauled aboard Dottin&rsquo;s vessel,
+clad only in a night shirt.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Sirrah!&rdquo; said he, bowing politely. &ldquo;You must
+excuse the unfitness of my dress to come aboard a
+strange ship, but really I left my own in such a hurry
+that I had no time to stay for a change.&rdquo; He had
+been blown out of a port-hole!</p>
+
+<p>An additional vessel, the <i>Russel</i>, had aided in the
+capture of the powerful <i>Glorioso</i>, so it had taken four
+privateers to down the proud Castilian: the <i>Duke</i>, the
+<i>Prince George</i>, the <i>Prince Frederick</i>, and the <i>Russel</i>.
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[Pg&nbsp;235]</a></span>
+Certainly she had put up a magnificent battle and she
+had completely crippled the stout little craft sailed by
+Captain Walker, who was now filled with chagrin and
+mortification, when he found that the treasure (which
+he had been sure was in the hold) had been safely
+landed at Ferrol, before he had sighted this valorous
+man-of-warsman. It was a great blow both to him
+and to his men, and, upon arriving at Lisbon he was
+met by one of the owners of his own vessel, who
+severely reprimanded him for fighting with such a
+powerful boat.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Captain Walker,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;I fear that your fighting
+blood is superior to your prudence!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>But to this, the game old sea-dog replied, with considerable
+heat:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Had the treasure been aboard the <i>Glorioso</i>, as I
+expected, my dear sir, your compliment would have
+been far different. Or had we let her escape from us
+with the treasure aboard, what would you have said
+then?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>To these sage reflections the owner did not reply.</p>
+
+<p>The honesty and courage of this able seaman were
+never questioned, and the following incident bears
+good witness to the first quality. Upon one occasion
+he was sailing for Lisbon in a well-armed privateer,
+when a couple of East India trading ships offered him
+&pound;1,000 ($5,000) if he would act as their guard and
+protect them from the enemy.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Gentlemen,&rdquo; said he to the captain of these vessels,
+&ldquo;I shall never take a reward for what I consider it
+my duty to do without one. I consider it my bounden
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[Pg&nbsp;236]</a></span>
+duty to conduct you both safely into port, for you
+are both British ships, and I am engaged to fight the
+enemies of our King.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>So he convoyed them safely into port and would
+not take even the smallest present, in recompense for
+his services.</p>
+
+<p>As a fighter he had no superior. War is simply
+glorified sport and those who are best trained athletically
+can usually win upon the battle-field. Did not
+Wellington say, &ldquo;The battle of Waterloo was won
+upon the foot-ball grounds of Eton and Harrow?&rdquo;
+Which was another way of saying that the boys who
+had learned to stand punishment upon the athletic
+field, could take it manfully and well upon the field of
+battle.</p>
+
+<p>Walker believed in athletic exercise and made his
+sailors continually practice both gunnery and work
+with the cutlass. They were always in training and
+always prepared. That is the reason why they won.
+As you know, if you want to win in athletics you have
+to train hard and practice daily. If you want to win
+at warfare you have to do likewise. The most athletic
+nation is the nation which will win in the long fight,
+providing that it has sufficient resources and money
+to carry out a war, once that it has placed its men in
+the field. It takes a great deal of money to fight a
+war, but it takes trained men also, and those who are
+the most fit will win every time.</p>
+
+<p>The English are an athletic nation, an island nation,
+and great numbers of her people have had to
+follow the sea as a matter of course. Hence England
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[Pg&nbsp;237]</a></span>
+has always had a vast quantity of well-trained seamen
+at her beck and call. For this reason she has been
+more successful upon the ocean than many of her
+neighbors. Will she continue to be?</p>
+
+<p><em>If she continues to breed men like George Walker
+there is little reason to doubt that she will always be
+a winner in sea fighting.</em></p>
+
+<p>As for this famous mariner, little is known of his
+later life save that he was once imprisoned for debt,
+but this was no disgrace in those times and I am sure
+that he was soon liberated. He died September 20th,
+1777, but where he was buried is not known, nor is
+there any record of his marriage. At any rate he has
+left the reputation of a brave and valiant seaman who
+was beloved by his men, feared by his enemies, and
+appreciated by his contemporaries.</p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;Britannia&rsquo;s glory first from ships arose;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To shipping still her power and wealth she owes.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Let each experienced Briton then impart,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His naval skill to perfect naval art.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[Pg&nbsp;238]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>BIVOUAC OF THE DEAD</h2>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Their silvered swords are red with rust,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their plum&eacute;d heads are bowed;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their haughty banner, trailed in dust,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is now their martial shroud.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And plenteous funeral tears have washed<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The red stains from each brow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the proud forms, by battle gashed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Are free from anguish now.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Yon marble minstrel&rsquo;s voiceless stone<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In deathless song shall tell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When many a vanished age hath flown,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The story how ye fell:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor wreck, nor change, nor winter&rsquo;s blight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor Time&rsquo;s remorseless gloom,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shall dim one ray of glory&rsquo;s light<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That gilds your deathless tomb.<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 442px;">
+<a name="american_privateer" id="american_privateer"></a>
+<img src="images/fpas15.jpg" width="442" height="600" alt="" />
+<p class="smlfont">From &ldquo;The Army and Navy of the United States.&rdquo;</p>
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">AMERICAN PRIVATEER TAKING POSSESSION OF A PRIZE.</p>
+
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<a name="Page_239" id="Page_239"><!-- unnumbered title page --></a>
+<p><span class='pagenum'></span></p>
+
+<h2>JOHN PAUL JONES<br />
+<br />
+THE FOUNDER OF THE AMERICAN NAVY<br />
+<br />
+(1747-1792)</h2>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[Pg&nbsp;240]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+
+<p>&ldquo;Every generation has its own war. To forget the disagreeable
+is a characteristic of the human mind.&rdquo;&mdash;<i>The Philosopher.</i></p>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[Pg&nbsp;241]</a></span></p>
+
+<p class="center padtop">JOHN PAUL JONES<br />
+THE FOUNDER OF THE AMERICAN
+NAVY<br />
+(1747-1792)</p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;Why! Shiver my bones! It&rsquo;s John Paul Jones!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Johnny the Pirate! Johnny should swing!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Johnny who hails from Old Scotlant y&rsquo; know,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Johnny who&rsquo;s tryin&rsquo; to fight our good King.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shiver my Timbers! We&rsquo;ll catch the old fox!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Clew up those top-sails! Ware o&rsquo; th&rsquo; shoals!</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Fire &rsquo;cross his bow-lines! Steer for th&rsquo; rocks!</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Ease away on the jib-boom; shoot as she rolls!</i><br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;Oh! Johnny, my Johnny, you&rsquo;re slick as can be,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But, Johnny, My John, you&rsquo;ll be nipped present-ly.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class="author">&mdash;<i>Song of the English Privateers.</i>&mdash;1794.</p>
+
+<p><span class="dropcap">A</span> FRENCH frigate lay in the silvery water off
+Norfolk, Virginia, and, as she swung quietly
+upon her anchor chains, a small sloop came
+bobbing alongside. A hail arose from her stern,
+where sat a man of about twenty-eight years; of
+medium stature, strongly built and swarthy. He was
+dressed in the gray clothing of a Virginian planter.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Hallo,&rdquo; he shouted in very good French. &ldquo;May
+I come aboard?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;<em>Certainement! Certainement!</em>&rdquo; cried a French
+officer, as he neared the rail. &ldquo;Welcome, Monsieur
+Jones!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[Pg&nbsp;242]</a></span>
+And, as the Virginian farmer scrambled upon the
+deck, he was greeted most effusively by a handsome
+nobleman. It was Louis Philippe Joseph, Duke de
+Chartres; known as &ldquo;the Sailor Prince of France.&rdquo;
+The Virginian was John Paul Jones, of &ldquo;Whitehaven&rdquo;
+upon the river Rappahannock.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I bring you delicacies of the season from my garden,&rdquo;
+said the planter, smiling. &ldquo;Some for you, and
+some for the commander&mdash;the Commodore de Kersaint.
+I trust that you will accept them, with my
+kindest regards. Meanwhile, I beg that you will give
+me leave to inspect your vessel and obtain information
+in regard to her plan, construction of the hull,
+arrangement of the batteries, her spars, her rig and
+other technical particulars. For, know you, Gentlemen,
+that war has just commenced between Great
+Britain and her Colonies and the newly-formed Marine
+Department of the Government will require a
+knowledge of ships and their construction. Partly
+for this I have visited you.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Kersaint&rsquo;s face grew sober.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Monsieur Jones,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;I have just heard the
+news from Lexington and I am the senior officer upon
+this coast. France is at peace with England. The
+situation for me is a delicate one. I must refuse to
+allow you to sketch any plans of my vessel.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>But the young Duke de Chartres looked upon the
+matter in a different light.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You shall have all the assistance from me that
+you wish,&rdquo; he cried. &ldquo;I do not fear the displeasure
+of England.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[Pg&nbsp;243]</a></span>
+So the Virginian planter was allowed to obtain the
+most complete data of the new frigate, even to copies
+of deck plans and sail spread, which he caused his
+carpenter to make. John Paul Jones was the guest
+of the Frenchman for two or three days.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And now you will visit my plantation,&rdquo; said he,
+when the time came for him to leave. &ldquo;Is it not so?
+For there I can repay some of the kindnesses which
+you have shown me.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That we cannot do,&rdquo; replied the French commander.
+&ldquo;It would be most impolitic for us to accept
+entertainment ashore from persons known to be
+hostile to King George. But we thank you, exceedingly,
+for your kind offer.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>So John Paul Jones proceeded alone to his plantation,
+and the French warship sailed for Corunna,
+Spain, after firing one gun as a salute to the new-born
+nation.</p>
+
+<p>The son of a Scotch gardener of Arbigland, Parish
+of Kirkbean, the youthful farmer had emigrated to
+America, where his brother owned the large plantation
+upon which he now resided. He found his kinsman
+dying of what was then called lung fever&mdash;in
+our time pneumonia&mdash;and, as he willed him his Virginian
+possessions, Jones was soon residing upon
+&ldquo;3,000 acres of prime land, on the right bank of the
+Rappahannock; 1,000 acres cleared and under plough,
+or grass; with 2,000 acres of strong, first-growth
+timber.&rdquo; He had a grist-mill; a mansion; overseer&rsquo;s
+houses; negro quarters; stables; tobacco houses;
+threshing floors; thirty negroes of all ages; twenty
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[Pg&nbsp;244]</a></span>
+horses and colts; eighty neat cattle and calves; and
+many sheep and swine. Thus lived the future sea-captain;
+in peace, plenty, and seclusion, at the outbreak
+of the American Revolution.</p>
+
+<p>John Paul Jones had gone to sea at the early age
+of twelve. As a master&rsquo;s apprentice upon the stout
+brig <i>Friendship</i>, he had sailed from Scotland to the
+North American Colonies, the West Indies, and back
+again. He had kept to his seaman&rsquo;s life, and&mdash;so
+improved in knowledge of his profession&mdash;that he
+became second mate; then first mate; then Captain.
+At twenty-one he had amassed a fortune of about
+one thousand guineas ($5,000) in gold,&mdash;then equal,
+in purchasing power, to three times this sum. Besides
+this he had studied French and Spanish assiduously,
+so that he could speak the first like a native.
+It was to be of great help to the ambitious mariner.
+And he had plenty of nerve, as the following incident
+bears full witness:</p>
+
+<p>Upon one of his many voyages, the crew was reduced,
+by fever, to five or six hands. One of them
+was a huge mulatto named Munro&mdash;or &ldquo;Mungo&rdquo;&mdash;Maxwell.
+They became mutinous, and, as Captain
+Jones was the only officer who could keep the deck,
+it was found necessary to subdue the refractory seaman.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Will you obey my orders?&rdquo; cried Jones, picking
+up a belaying pin.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You go sit down,&rdquo; cried Maxwell. &ldquo;I no like
+you. <em>Pish!</em> I could kill you with one crack.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>John Paul Jones did not answer, but walking
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[Pg&nbsp;245]</a></span>
+towards the big black, he struck him just one blow
+with his pin. &ldquo;Mungo&rdquo; dropped to the deck and lay
+there. He never rose again.</p>
+
+<p>Upon arriving at port, Captain Jones surrendered
+to the authorities, and asked for a trial. It was given
+him.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Captain Paul,&rdquo; asked the Judge, &ldquo;are you, in
+conscience, satisfied that you used no more force than
+was necessary to preserve discipline on your ship?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;May it please the most Honorable Court, Sir,&rdquo;
+answered the doughty seaman, &ldquo;it became imperative
+to strike the mutinous sailor, Maxwell. Whenever
+it becomes necessary for a commanding officer to hit
+a seaman, it is also necessary to strike with a weapon.
+I may say that the necessity to strike carries with it
+the necessity to kill, or to completely disable the mutineer.
+I had two brace of loaded pistols in my belt,
+and could easily have shot him. I struck with a
+belaying pin in preference, because I hoped that I
+might subdue him without killing him. But the result
+proved otherwise. I trust that the Honorable
+Court and the jury will take due account of the fact
+that, though amply provided with pistols throwing
+ounce balls, necessarily fatal weapons, I used a belaying
+pin, which, though dangerous, is not necessarily
+a fatal weapon.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The judge smiled and Captain Paul was acquitted.</p>
+
+<p>The famous Lord Nelson once said: &ldquo;A naval
+officer, unlike a military commander, can have no
+fixed plans. He must always be ready for <em>the</em> chance.
+It may come to-morrow, or next week, or next year,
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[Pg&nbsp;246]</a></span>
+or never; but he must be <em>always ready</em>!&rdquo; Nunquam
+non Paratus. (Never unprepared.)</p>
+
+<p>Paul Jones kept a copy of this maxim in his head.
+He was always in training; always on the <i>qui vive</i>;
+always prepared. And&mdash;because he was always prepared&mdash;he
+accomplished what would seem to be the
+impossible.</p>
+
+<p>Shortly placed in command of a sloop-of-war, the
+<i>Alfred</i> (one of the four vessels which constituted the
+American Navy), Lieutenant Jones assisted in an
+expedition against Fort Nassau, New Providence
+Island, in the Bahamas, which was a complete and
+absolute failure. On the way home, and when passing
+the end of Long Island, his boat was chased by
+the twenty-gun sloop-of-war <i>Glasgow</i>. The long shot
+kicked up a lot of spray around the fleet American
+vessel, but it was of no use. Jones got away and
+sailed into Newport Harbor, Rhode Island, with sails
+full of holes and stern-posts peppered with lead. But
+he was created a Captain; placed in command of the
+<i>Providence</i>&mdash;sloop-of-war, fourteen guns and one
+hundred and seven men&mdash;and soon harried the seas
+in search of fighting and adventure. With him were
+two faithful negro boys&mdash;Cato and Scipio&mdash;who
+followed him through the many vicissitudes of the
+Revolutionary War.</p>
+
+<p>The seas traversed by the <i>Providence</i> were full of
+English cruisers&mdash;superior in size to the saucy
+American&mdash;but inferior in alertness and resources of
+her commander and her crew. She captured sixteen
+vessels&mdash;of which eight were sent to port and eight
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[Pg&nbsp;247]</a></span>
+were destroyed at sea. Twice she was chased by
+British frigates, and, on one of these occasions, narrowly
+escaped capture.</p>
+
+<p>As the little sloop was running into one of the
+many harbors of the coast, a fast-sailing frigate bore
+down upon her from the starboard quarter.</p>
+
+<p><em>Whang!</em></p>
+
+<p>Her bow-guns spoke and said &ldquo;Heave to!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>But Captain Jones had heard this call before, and
+kept on upon his course.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;She&rsquo;s got me,&rdquo; said he. &ldquo;But, as the breeze is
+fresh I may run away. Stand ready, Boys, and let
+go your tackle immediate, when I give the command!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The helm was now put hard-up and the <i>Providence</i>
+crept into the wind. Closer and closer came the brig&mdash;now
+her bow-guns sputtered&mdash;and a shot ricochetted
+near the lean prow of the <i>Providence</i>. But
+the sloop kept on.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly&mdash;just as the brig drew alongside&mdash;Paul
+Jones swung his rudder over, wore around in the
+wind, and ran dead to leeward.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Watch her sniffle!&rdquo; cried the gallant Captain, as
+the brig <em>chug-chugged</em> on the dancing waves, and,
+endeavoring to box short about, came up into the
+wind. But fortune favored the American skipper.
+Just then a squall struck the Englishman; she lost
+steering way; and hung upon the waves like a huge
+rubber ball, while her Captain said things that cannot
+be printed.</p>
+
+<p>When in this condition, Jones ran his boat within
+half gun-shot, gave her a dose of iron from one of
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[Pg&nbsp;248]</a></span>
+his stern-guns, and&mdash;before the frigate could get
+squared away&mdash;was pounding off before the wind,
+which was the sloop&rsquo;s best point of sailing.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well,&rdquo; said the crafty John Paul, his face
+wreathed in smiles. &ldquo;If the frigate had simply followed
+my man&oelig;uver of wearing around under easy
+helm and trimming her sails as the wind bore, I could
+not have distanced her much in the alteration of the
+course, and she must have come off the wind very
+nearly with me, and before I could get out of range.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I do not take to myself too great credit for getting
+away. I did the best that I could, but there was
+more luck than sense to it. A good or bad puff of
+wind foils all kinds of skill one way or the other&mdash;and
+this time when I saw the little squall cat&rsquo;s-pawing
+to windward&mdash;I thought that I would ware ship and
+see if the Britisher wouldn&rsquo;t get taken aback. The
+old saying that &lsquo;Discretion is the better part of valor&rsquo;
+may, I think, be changed to &lsquo;Impudence is&mdash;or
+may be, sometimes&mdash;the better part of discretion.&rsquo;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Two kinds of news greeted the slippery sailor when
+he arrived in port. One was a letter from Thomas
+Jefferson, enclosing his commission as Captain in the
+Continental Navy, by Act of Congress. The other&mdash;an
+epistle from his agents in Virginia, informing him
+that, during the month of July previous, his plantation
+had been utterly ravaged by an expedition of
+British and Tories (Virginians who sided with England
+in the war) under Lord Dunmore. His buildings
+had all been burned; his wharf demolished; his livestock
+killed; and every one of his able-bodied slaves
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[Pg&nbsp;249]</a></span>
+of both sexes had been carried off to Jamaica to be
+sold. The enemy had also destroyed his growing
+crops; cut down his fruit trees; in short, nothing was
+left of his once prosperous and valuable plantation
+but the bare ground.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;This is part of the fortunes of war,&rdquo; said Jones.
+&ldquo;I accept the extreme animosity displayed by Lord
+Dunmore as a compliment to the sincerity of my attachment
+to the cause of liberty.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Bold words, well spoken by a bold man!</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But,&rdquo; continued the able sailor, &ldquo;I most sadly
+deplore the fate of my poor negroes. The plantation
+was to them a home, not a place of bondage. Their
+existence was a species of grown-up childhood, not
+slavery. Now they are torn away and carried off
+to die under the pestilence and lash of Jamaica cane-fields;
+and the price of their poor bodies will swell
+the pockets of English slave-traders. For this cruelty
+to those innocent, harmless people, I hope sometime,
+somehow, to find an opportunity to exact a reckoning.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Again bold sentiments,&mdash;and the reckoning, too,
+was forthcoming.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I have no fortune left but my sword, and no
+prospect except that of getting alongside of the enemy,&rdquo;
+wrote the impoverished sea-captain to a Mr.
+Hewes.</p>
+
+<p>This prospect also was to soon have ample fulfilment.</p>
+
+<p>Ordered to take command of the <i>Alfred</i>, Captain
+Jones made a short cruise eastward, in 1776,
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[Pg&nbsp;250]</a></span>
+accompanied by the staunch little <i>Providence</i>. The journey
+lasted only thirty-three days, but, during that time,
+seven ships of the enemy fell into the clutches of the
+two American vessels.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Aha!&rdquo; cried Captain Jones, as he rubbed his
+hands. &ldquo;This looks more propitious for our cause.
+We have taken the <i>Mellish</i> and the <i>Biddeford</i>. Let
+us break into them and see how much of the King&rsquo;s
+treasure has been secured.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>And it was indeed good treasure!</p>
+
+<p>The <i>Mellish</i> was found to contain ten thousand
+complete uniforms, including cloaks, boots, socks and
+woollen shirts, for the winter supply of General
+Howe&rsquo;s army; seven thousand pairs of blankets; one
+thousand four hundred tents; six hundred saddles and
+complete cavalry equipments; one million seven hundred
+thousand rounds of fixed ammunition (musket
+cartridges); a large quantity of medical stores; forty
+cases of surgical instruments; and forty-six soldiers
+who were recruits sent out to join the various British
+regiments then serving in the Colonies.</p>
+
+<p>The larger prize&mdash;the <i>Biddeford</i>&mdash;carried one
+thousand seven hundred fur overcoats for the use of
+the Canadian troops; eleven thousand pairs of blankets,
+intended partly for the British troops in Canada,
+and partly for the Indians then in British pay along
+the northern frontier; one thousand small-bore guns
+of the type then known as the &ldquo;Indian-trade smooth-bore,&rdquo;
+with hatchets, knives, and boxes of flint in
+proportion, to arm the redskins. There were eight
+light six-pounder field guns and complete harness and
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[Pg&nbsp;251]</a></span>
+other equipage for the two four-gun batteries of horse-artillery.
+Also some wines and table supplies for Sir
+Guy Carleton and a case of fine Galway duelling
+pistols for a British officer then serving in Canada.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;These I will appropriate as mine own portion,&rdquo;
+cried Captain Jones. &ldquo;And also a share of the wines,
+for I must have something to drink the health of mine
+enemy in.&rdquo; And&mdash;so saying&mdash;he chuckled gleefully.
+It had been a rich haul.</p>
+
+<p>But the Captain was not happy. His pet project
+was to cruise in European waters, and he wanted to
+get near the British coast with a ship&mdash;or better&mdash;a
+squadron of some force.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Cruises along the American coast,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;will
+annoy the enemy and result in capture of small ships
+and consorts from time to time. But who&mdash;forsooth&mdash;will
+hear of this in Europe? We will add nothing
+to our prestige as a new nation if we win victories
+upon this side of the ocean.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>All who heard him were much impressed by the
+vehement earnestness of his arguments.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You have had so much success, Mr. Jones,&rdquo; said
+they, &ldquo;that we feel you will have still greater good
+fortune in future years.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>And Jones said to himself: &ldquo;Oh, if I only could
+get the chance!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>It soon came, for on June the 14th, 1777, the
+Continental Congress passed the following resolution:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;<i>Resolved:</i> That Captain John Paul Jones be appointed
+to command the ship <i>Ranger</i>&rdquo; (a brand-new
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[Pg&nbsp;252]</a></span>
+sloop-of-war which had just been launched at Portsmouth,
+N.&nbsp;H.).</p>
+
+<p>This boat was designed to carry a battery of twenty
+long six-pounders and was planned expressly for
+speed. She was one hundred and sixteen feet long,
+twenty-eight feet in breadth, and her bottom was
+covered with copper: the first American ship to be
+thus protected. Captain Jones put fourteen long nine-pounders
+in her and only four six-pounders, but even
+then she was top-heavy.</p>
+
+<p>In spite of the fact that it was not quite safe to
+carry full sail, if clearing to windward, close-hauled
+in squally weather; when running free&mdash;before the
+wind&mdash;she could course through the water like a
+jack-rabbit. In outward appearance she was a perfect
+beauty, and, as she was rather low in the water
+for her length, and her masts raked two or three
+degrees more than any other ship of the day, she
+was&mdash;on the whole&mdash;the sauciest craft afloat. Jones
+was delighted.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I have the best crew I have ever seen,&rdquo; said he.
+&ldquo;I believe it is the best in the world. They are nearly
+all native Americans, and the proportion of able seamen
+to the total is much beyond the average. I&rsquo;m
+going to make one or two short runs off the coast&mdash;a
+day or two at a time&mdash;to shake down the sails and
+find the best trim of the ship. Then away to the
+shores of England and France!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He waited impatiently for orders to proceed across
+the blue Atlantic. On October the 18th, 1777, a
+courier raced frantically into Portsmouth, crying,</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[Pg&nbsp;253]</a></span>
+&ldquo;Burgoyne has surrendered! Burgoyne has surrendered!&rdquo;
+And Jones&rsquo; impatience to be off increased
+ten-fold.</p>
+
+<p>There were no details of the American victory, for
+the courier had reached the sleepy New England town
+from the field of Stillwater, in about thirty hours, and
+it was one hundred and forty-seven miles&mdash;as the
+crow flies&mdash;or, about one hundred and seventy-five
+by the shortest road. He had stopped only long
+enough to saddle a fresh horse and shift his saddle,
+eating his meals in the stirrups, and never thinking
+of rest until he had shouted his tidings for three
+full days. The patriot country was wild with enthusiasm.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I will spread the news in France in thirty days,&rdquo;
+said Jones, when his dispatches were placed in his
+hands, about midnight of October the thirty-first.
+And, running by the whirling eddies of &ldquo;Pull-and-be-damned&rdquo;
+Point, he soon had the <i>Ranger</i> clear of the
+low-lying Isle of Shoals: the sea cross and choppy,
+but the good ship bowling along before a fresh gale
+of wind.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I had sailed with many Captains,&rdquo; writes Elijah
+Hall, second Lieutenant of the staunch, little vessel,
+&ldquo;but I never had seen a ship crowded as Captain
+Jones drove the <i>Ranger</i>. The wind held northeasterly
+and fresh &rsquo;til we cleared Sable Island and began to
+draw on to the Banks. Then it came northeast and
+east-northeast with many snow squalls, and thick of
+nights.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Imagine the situation of the <i>Ranger</i>&rsquo;s crew, with
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[Pg&nbsp;254]</a></span>
+a top-heavy, cranky ship under their feet, and a
+Commander who day and night insisted on every
+rag she could stagger under, without laying clear
+down!</p>
+
+<p>As it was, she came close to beam-ends more than
+once, and on one occasion righted only by letting-fly
+her sheets cut with hatchets. During all this trying
+work Captain Jones was his own navigating officer,
+keeping the deck eighteen or twenty hours out of the
+twenty-four; often serving extra grog to the men
+with his own hands; and, by his example, silencing
+all disposition to grumble. In the worst of it, the
+watch and watch was lap-watched, so that the men
+would be eight hours on to four off; but no one complained.
+It speaks well alike for commander and crew
+that not a man was punished or even severely reprimanded
+during the terrific voyage.</p>
+
+<p>But Captain Jones made good his boast. He actually
+did land at Nantes&mdash;upon the coast of France&mdash;early
+in the morning of December second, 1777, thirty-two
+days out from Portsmouth. His crew were jubilant,
+and sang a song which ran:</p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;So now we had him hard and fast,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Burgoyne laid down his arms at last,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And that is why we brave the blast,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To carry the news to London!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Heigh-ho! Carry the News!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Go! Go! Carry the News!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Tell old King George that he&rsquo;s undone!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He&rsquo;s licked by the Yankee squirrel gun.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Go!<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Go!<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Carry the news to London!&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[Pg&nbsp;255]</a></span>
+And Captain John made haste to proceed to Paris,
+placing the dispatches in the hands of Dr. Franklin
+early upon the fifth day of December,&mdash;travelling
+two hundred and twenty miles in sixty hours. He
+returned to his ship about the middle of the month,
+to find that several of the crew were mutinous.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;See here, Captain,&rdquo; said one&mdash;a seaman from
+Portsmouth, New Hampshire&mdash;&ldquo;Me and my pals
+enlisted at home after readin&rsquo; a hand-bill which said
+that we wuz to get $40.00 apiece extra, for this cruise.
+Now, your young Lieutenant tells us that the reg&rsquo;lations
+of Congress say that we are to only get th&rsquo; reg&rsquo;lar
+salary allotted by those old pals, who make our
+laws. We came with you thinkin&rsquo; that we wuz ter
+git this money, and, by gum, we intend to git it!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Calm yourself, my good fellow,&rdquo; said Jones soothingly.
+&ldquo;If the hand-bill said that you were to receive
+$40.00 you shall have it. You shall get this sum even
+if I have to pay it myself.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>And this he did.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I would not deceive any man who has entered
+or may enter, to serve in my command,&rdquo; remarked
+John Paul Jones. &ldquo;I consider myself as being under
+a personal obligation to these brave men, who have
+cheerfully enlisted to serve with me, and I accept their
+act as a proof of their good opinion of me, which I
+value so highly, that I cannot permit it to be dampened
+in the least degree, by misunderstanding, or failure
+to perform engagements. I wish all my men to be
+happy and contented. The conditions of the hand-bills
+will be strictly complied with.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[Pg&nbsp;256]</a></span>
+Accordingly he disbursed one hundred and forty-seven
+guineas (about $800.00) out of his own pocket,
+in making good the terms of the hand-bill. Is it any
+wonder that the gallant seaman was popular with his
+followers?</p>
+
+<p>But the <i>Ranger</i> lay at Brest&mdash;eager for action&mdash;her
+light sails furled; her spars shining with new
+varnish; her polished guns winking in the rays of
+the sun.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Come, my Hearties!&rdquo; cried Captain Jones on
+April the 10th, &ldquo;we&rsquo;ll hie us out to the west coast
+of Ireland and see if our new ship cannot make a good
+name for herself.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Sails were hoisted upon the staunch, little vessel.
+Her bow was turned toward the ocean&mdash;and&mdash;with
+the new flag of the infant republic fluttering from
+her masts, the <i>Ranger</i> went forth for battle, for plunder,
+and for glory. She was to get a little of each.</p>
+
+<p>Arriving off the coast of Cumberland, and, learning
+from fishermen decoyed on board, that there was a
+large amount of shipping in the harbor of Whitehaven,
+with no warship of superior force in the neighborhood
+to protect it, the bold American skipper resolved
+to make a dash into this quiet cove, with a
+view of destroying the ships there in port. The British
+authorities had no suspicion of his presence in the
+Irish Sea.</p>
+
+<p>As the <i>Ranger</i> drew near to Whitehaven, the wind
+blew such a gale from the southwest, that it was impossible
+to land a boat.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We must hold off until the breeze slackens!&rdquo;
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[Pg&nbsp;257]</a></span>
+cried bold Captain Jones. &ldquo;This cannot last forever,
+and our opportunity will soon be here.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Sure enough&mdash;the wind died out about midnight
+of April 22nd&mdash;and the <i>Ranger</i> beat up towards the
+town. When about five hundred yards from the
+shore, the vessel was hove to&mdash;two boats were lowered&mdash;and
+twenty-nine seamen, with third Lieutenant
+Wallingford, Midshipmen Arthur Green and
+Charles Hill, jumped into them. With Jones in command
+they hastened toward the coast.</p>
+
+<p>The surprise was complete. Two small forts lay
+at the mouth of the harbor, but, as the seamen scrambled
+ashore, they were precipitately abandoned by the
+garrison of &ldquo;coast-guards.&rdquo; Captain Jones, Midshipman
+Green, and six men rushed shouting upon one
+of these, capturing it without an effort; the other was
+taken by Lieutenant Wallingford and eight sailors,&mdash;while
+four were left behind as a boat-guard. A few
+pistols spattered, a few muskets rang; but, when the
+stout sea-dogs reached the tidal basin, where the shipping
+lay, the townsfolk were thoroughly aroused.
+Burning cotton was thrown on board of the ships
+lying at anchor, but only one took fire. It was full
+daylight, and the insignificance of Jones&rsquo; force became
+evident to the townsfolk, who were rallying from all
+directions.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Retreat to the ships,&rdquo; shouted the Yankee Captain,
+&ldquo;there is no time to lose!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The landing party&mdash;small as it was&mdash;had become
+separated into two groups; one commanded by Jones,
+the other by Wallingford. Thinking that Wallingford&rsquo;s
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[Pg&nbsp;258]</a></span>
+party was, for the moment, more seriously menaced
+than his own, Jones attacked and dispersed&mdash;with
+his dozen men&mdash;a force of about one hundred
+of the local militia who were endeavoring to retake
+the lower fort, or battery, whose guns had been spiked
+by the Americans. The townsfolk and coast-guards
+had joined and were making a vigorous assault upon
+Wallingford. But shots flew thick and fast from the
+muskets of the followers of the daring Paul Jones&mdash;as
+they retreated to their own boats. The whole landing
+party&mdash;with the exception of one man&mdash;finally
+leaped safely into the boat, and were on board the
+<i>Ranger</i> before the sun was an hour over the horizon.</p>
+
+<p>Jones was delighted.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The actual results of this affair,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;are
+of little moment, as we destroyed but one ship. The
+moral effect&mdash;however&mdash;is very great, as it has
+taught the English that the fancied security of their
+coasts is a Myth.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>In fact this little raid of the valiant John Paul
+made the Government take expensive measures for
+the defense of numerous ports hitherto relying for
+protection upon the vigilance and supposed omnipotence
+of the navy. It also doubled the rates of marine
+insurance; which was the most grievous damage of
+all.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Now to attack a castle!&rdquo; cried Jones, &ldquo;and bag
+an Earl, too, if he is around!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The <i>Ranger</i> was headed for Solway Firth&mdash;not
+more than three hours&rsquo; sail away&mdash;where, upon St.
+Mary&rsquo;s Isle, was the castle of the Earl of Selkirk.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[Pg&nbsp;259]</a></span>
+&ldquo;If we can catch the noble owner of this keep,&rdquo;
+said John Paul, &ldquo;we will hold him as hostage for the
+better treatment of American prisoners in England.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>As luck would have it, the Earl was away at this
+particular time, and, although the wild sea-dogs of
+the <i>Ranger</i> carried off several pieces of silverware
+from the castle, this was all that was captured. Lucky
+Earl! But, had he fallen into the clutches of John
+Paul, he would have been treated with the greatest
+consideration, for the Captain of the <i>Ranger</i> was the
+most chivalrous of conquerors.</p>
+
+<p>The <i>Ranger</i> stood across the Irish Channel and next
+day ran into some fisher boats.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ah! Ha!&rdquo; laughed one of the sons of Ireland.
+&ldquo;The <i>Drake</i>&mdash;the guard-ship at Carrickfergus&mdash;is
+after you, and she&rsquo;s a twenty-gun sloop-of-war.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>John Paul smiled.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;To lessen trouble,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll heave-to off the
+mouth of Belfast Lough and wait for her to work out.
+This will save her the pains of coming after me.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>So he luffed his ship, lay to, and waited for the
+<i>Drake</i> to sail on. Her white sails could be seen more
+clearly as she neared the adventurous American. A
+boat was sent out to reconnoitre&mdash;but&mdash;as it approached,
+it was surrounded by tenders from the
+<i>Ranger</i>; a midshipman and five men in her, were
+made prisoners. Tide and wind were both against
+the <i>Drake</i>; she came on slowly; and, at an hour
+before sundown, was just within hail. The sea was
+fairly smooth, the wind southerly and very light.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[Pg&nbsp;260]</a></span>
+&ldquo;What ship is that?&rdquo; sounded from the deck of
+the <i>Drake</i>.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The American Continental ship <i>Ranger</i>,&rdquo; rang
+the clear reply. &ldquo;Lay on! We are waiting for
+you!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Both ships bore away before the wind and neared
+each other to within striking distance. <em>Boom!</em> a
+broadside roared from the side of the <i>Drake</i>, and the
+fight had begun.</p>
+
+<p><em>Crash! Crash!</em> Muskets spoke from the rigging of
+the <i>Ranger</i>, where several seamen had climbed in the
+endeavor to pick off the gunners on the deck of the
+British warship. There were one hundred and fifty-seven
+men upon the <i>Drake</i>; Paul Jones had one hundred
+and twenty-six. The <i>Drake</i>&rsquo;s battery was sixteen
+nine-pounders and four sixes. Thus&mdash;you see&mdash;the
+advantage was clearly with the Britishers.</p>
+
+<p>Both boats swung along under full canvas, pounding
+away at each other like prize-fighters. Spars were
+shattered; sails ripped; masts splintered in the hail
+of iron. And&mdash;as the fight progressed&mdash;it could
+be plainly seen that the marksmanship of those upon
+the <i>Drake</i> was infinitely less accurate than that of the
+Americans.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Every shot of our men told,&rdquo; said Jones&mdash;not
+long afterwards. &ldquo;They gave the <i>Drake</i> three broadsides
+for two, right along, at that. The behavior of
+my crew in this engagement more than justifies the
+representations I have often made, of what American
+sailors would do, if given a chance at the enemy in
+his own waters. We have seen that they fight with
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[Pg&nbsp;261]</a></span>
+courage on our own coast&mdash;but fought here, almost
+in hail of the enemy&rsquo;s shore.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 478px;">
+<a name="began_to_hull" id="began_to_hull"></a>
+<img src="images/fpas16.jpg" width="478" height="600" alt="" />
+<p class="smlfont">From &ldquo;The Army and Navy of the United States.&rdquo;</p>
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">&ldquo;BEGAN TO HULL THE &lsquo;DRAKE&rsquo; BELOW THE WATER-LINE.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>As the two ships were going off the wind, which
+was light, they both rolled considerably, and together;
+that is, when the <i>Ranger</i> went down to port, the
+<i>Drake</i> came up to starboard. The gunners upon the
+quarter-deck of the <i>Ranger</i> timed their guns, so that
+they were fired as their muzzles went down and the
+enemy&rsquo;s side arose. By this practice they began to
+hull the <i>Drake</i> below the water-line.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Sink the English! Sink the English!&rdquo; cried the
+powder-blackened fighters.</p>
+
+<p>But Captain Jones thought differently.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t sink her!&rdquo; he yelled to gunner Starbuck,
+above the din of battle. &ldquo;I want to take her alive,
+instead of destroying her; for it will be much more
+to our advantage if we carry her as a visible prize into
+a French port.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;All right, Cap&rsquo;n!&rdquo; shouted his men. &ldquo;We&rsquo;ll
+cripple her aloft!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>They now fired as the muzzles rose, and, so terrific
+were their broadsides, that the fore and main topsail-yards
+came tumbling across the starboard quarter, in
+a tangle of ropes, sails, and rigging.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Rake her! Rake her!&rdquo; shouted Jones to his men.</p>
+
+<p>The <i>Ranger</i> luffed and crossed the stern of the
+<i>Drake</i> with the purpose of spanking a full broadside
+down her decks. The British boat was badly crippled
+and had lost steering way.</p>
+
+<p>But, before the well-aimed guns belched another
+destructive volley into the shattered Englishman, a
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[Pg&nbsp;262]</a></span>
+white flag went aloft, and a voice came: &ldquo;Hold your
+fire. We surrender!&rdquo; The <i>Drake</i> was a prisoner-of-war.</p>
+
+<p>Thus Paul Jones had won a notable victory, and
+thus he had proved that the British were not invincible,
+and could be defeated, upon the sea, by their own
+cousins, as readily as upon the land.</p>
+
+<p>When the <i>Ranger</i> lay in the harbor of Brest, a few
+days later, with the <i>Drake</i> alongside, boats crowded
+about in order to view the vessel which had captured
+another,&mdash;larger than herself. And, as the <i>Ranger</i>
+had taken three merchant ships on the way to the
+coast of France, the black eyes of the natives shone
+with beady lustre as they gazed upon the graceful hull
+of the victorious sloop-of-war from Portsmouth, New
+Hampshire.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;See Monsieur Jones,&rdquo; said they, as they nudged
+each other. &ldquo;Voil&agrave;! Here is a man who is better
+than our own sailors. Look at this American sea-devil!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>And the chest of John Paul Jones swelled with
+pride.</p>
+
+<p>Eager and active, the gallant Commodore was most
+unhappy during the next few months, for the <i>Ranger</i>
+was ordered back to America&mdash;under his Lieutenant
+Simpson. Twenty-seven of his crew, however, elected
+to remain and fight with him, when he should get another
+command,&mdash;among them a little Narragansett
+Indian called Antony Jeremiah.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Me like to see big gun shoot,&rdquo; said he. &ldquo;Me
+like to walk on deck of enemy&rsquo;s big boat when you
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[Pg&nbsp;263]</a></span>
+take it! Byme-by we take bigger ship than <i>Drake</i>
+and kill heap more enemy! Ugh! Ugh!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>At this John Paul laughed.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Antony Jeremiah,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;you shall witness
+one big fight if you stay with John Paul. You wait
+and see!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>And what John Paul had said soon came to pass.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The French,&rdquo; writes the doughty warrior, &ldquo;have
+little conception of an expedition such as I propose;
+to harry the coast and destroy the commerce of the
+enemy. Their idea is to leave all of that to privateers,
+of which I have already been offered a dozen commands.
+Some of the ships they fit out as privateers
+are really respectable frigates in size, and I have seen
+one, called the <i>Monsieur</i>, that mounts thirty-eight or
+forty guns. But I do not wish to engage in privateering.
+My object is not that of private gain, but to
+serve the public in a way that may reflect credit on
+our infant navy and give prestige to our country over
+the sea.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Noble sentiments&mdash;nobly expressed!</p>
+
+<p>In spite of the gloomy outlook he at last secured
+a vessel from the King himself, called the <i>Duras</i>,
+which he re-christened &ldquo;<i>Le Bon Homme Richard</i>&rdquo;&mdash;&ldquo;<i>The
+Good Richard</i>&rdquo;&mdash;the name assumed by Dr.
+Benjamin Franklin when writing his famous &ldquo;Almanack,&rdquo;
+except that he called him &ldquo;Poor Richard.&rdquo;
+This was a well-merited compliment to the great and
+good man, who was then Commissioner from the
+United States to France, and a firm friend to the
+ardent John Paul. The vessel had forty guns, &ldquo;and,&rdquo;
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[Pg&nbsp;264]</a></span>
+writes the Minister of Marine, &ldquo;as you may find too
+much difficulty in enlisting a sufficient number of
+Americans, the King permits you to levy French volunteers,
+until you obtain a full crew.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>John Paul hastened to get her ready for a cruise.
+&ldquo;I mounted twenty-eight long twelve-pounders on the
+gun-deck,&rdquo; he says, &ldquo;put eight of the long nines on
+the quarter-deck, and discarded the six-pounders of
+her old battery. This gave her a battery of forty-two
+guns, throwing two hundred and fifty-eight pounds of
+metal in a single broadside. She was the fair equivalent
+of a thirty-six gun frigate.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>From February to June she was worked over;
+refitted; resparred. On June 19th, 1779, the gallant
+John Paul Jones swung out into the English
+Channel; he, himself, in command of the <i>Good Richard</i>,
+which carried a crew of three hundred and
+seventy-five, not more than fifty of whom were Americans.
+Four other vessels were with him: the <i>Alliance</i>,
+a thirty-two gun frigate; the <i>Pallas</i>, a twenty-eight
+gun frigate; the <i>Vengeance</i>, a twelve gun brig;
+and the <i>Cerf</i>, a cutter.</p>
+
+<p>On the second day out the <i>Alliance</i> fouled the <i>Richard</i>,
+causing so much damage to both, that the squadron
+was compelled to return to port for repairs, which&mdash;with
+other transactions&mdash;consumed six weeks.
+But the accident was a lucky one, for numerous American
+sailors, who were in English prisons, were shortly
+exchanged with English seamen in French dungeons;
+and thus Paul Jones was able to man the <i>Good Richard</i>
+with one hundred and fourteen native Americans,
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[Pg&nbsp;265]</a></span>
+who were anxious to have a crack at those who had
+captured them but a short time before.</p>
+
+<p>Finally, with refitted ships and reorganized crews,
+Paul Jones was ready to sail from the roadstead of
+Isle de Groaix, in the early part of August, 1779,
+bound upon his cruise around the British Islands.
+There were four ships in this squadron: the <i>Good
+Richard</i>; the <i>Alliance</i>, under Pierre Landais (a depraved
+and dishonest Frenchman); the <i>Pallas</i>, under
+Cottineau (an honest Frenchman); and the <i>Vengeance</i>,
+a sloop-of-war. The prevailing winds
+were light and baffling, so the squadron moved
+slowly.</p>
+
+<p>War had been declared between France and England,
+and thus the English Channel was thronged with
+privateers from both countries. The <i>Richard</i> and a
+French privateer, in company, re-captured a large ship
+belonging to Holland, but bound from Barcelona to
+Dunkirk, France, which had been taken some days
+before by an English vessel off Cape Ortegal and
+ordered into Falmouth, England. England and Holland
+were still at peace, at this time, but the English
+claimed the right to intercept and send into their own
+port for examination, all neutral vessels bound to
+French ports, as England and France were then at
+war. Commodore Jones took the English prize-crew
+out of the Dutch ship, as prisoners of war, and then
+ordered the ship into l&rsquo;Orient in charge of her own
+crew, but under the command of one of his midshipmen,
+until she could come under the protection of a
+French port.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[Pg&nbsp;266]</a></span>
+&ldquo;Things are going well with us!&rdquo; cried Captain
+Jones, rubbing his hands gleefully.</p>
+
+<p>He soon felt much happier. For, on the morning
+of August 23rd, when in the vicinity of Cape Clear,
+the <i>Richard</i> sent three boats, and afterwards a fourth,
+to take a brig that was becalmed in the northwest
+quarter&mdash;just out of gun-shot. It proved to be the
+<i>Fortune</i>, of Bristol, bound from Newfoundland
+for her home-port with whale-oil, salt fish, and
+barrel staves. Manned by a prize-crew of two
+warrant officers and six men, she was sent to
+Nantes.</p>
+
+<p>All were happy. All were looking forward to a
+good fight. It was to come to them.</p>
+
+<p>The little fleet of war-dogs sailed northward, and,
+on September 1st, about ten o&rsquo;clock in the morning,
+the northwest promontory of Scotland was sighted.
+At the same instant, two large ships bore in sight on
+the same quarter, and another vessel appeared to windward.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Bear up! Bear up!&rdquo; cried Jones.</p>
+
+<p>The <i>Richard</i> held over toward the first two ships
+until he saw that it was the <i>Alliance</i> and a prize she
+had taken about daylight,&mdash;a vessel bound for Jamaica,
+from London.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Now chase the other fellow!&rdquo; he cried, turning
+the wheel with his own hands, and soon the <i>Good
+Richard</i> was bounding over the waves in hard pursuit
+of the second sail. Slowly but surely she was
+overhauled. Heavily armed, she did not surrender
+until after the exchange of several shots, which the
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[Pg&nbsp;267]</a></span>
+<i>Richard</i> pumped into her, after running up close
+enough to show her broadside.</p>
+
+<p>A boat soon carried a number of seamen to take
+possession of her, and she proved to be the British
+privateer, the <i>Union</i>, mounting twenty-two six-pounders,
+and bound northward from London to Quebec,
+in Canada, laden with a cargo of naval and military
+stores for the British troops and flotillas on the Lakes.
+The <i>Union</i> also carried a valuable mail, including dispatches
+for Sir William Howe, in New York, and
+Sir Guy Carleton, in Canada. &ldquo;These were lost,&rdquo;
+writes John Paul to good Doctor Franklin, at Paris,
+for the <i>Alliance</i> imprudently showed American colors,
+though English colors were still flying on the <i>Bon
+Homme Richard</i>; &ldquo;the enemy thereby being induced
+to throw his papers of importance overboard before
+we could take possession of him.&rdquo; The prizes were
+manned from the <i>Alliance</i> and sent (by Landais) into
+the seaport of Bergen, in Norway.</p>
+
+<p>The squadron now beat down the east coast of
+Scotland, and, after capturing five or six small prizes,
+rounded-to off the Firth of Forth.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I intend to attack the port of Leith!&rdquo; cried Jones,
+&ldquo;as I understand that it is defended only by a small
+guard-ship of twenty-two guns, and an old fortification
+(old Leith Fort) garrisoned by a detachment of
+Militia.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The wind was adverse, blowing off shore, with
+frequent heavy squalls, but about noon of the 17th
+of September, the <i>Richard</i> and the <i>Pallas</i> beat up
+within gun-shot of Leith Fort and were lowering
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[Pg&nbsp;268]</a></span>
+away their tenders in order to land, when a heavy
+Northwest gale sprang up, compelling them to hoist
+their boats, and put to sea. The gale lasted about
+twenty-four hours, but, on the morning of the 19th,
+the wind took another turn, the sea grew calm, and
+Jones proposed to renew the attack upon Leith. The
+Commander of the <i>Pallas</i> made strong objection to
+this. &ldquo;I do not believe that we should stay here,&rdquo;
+cried he. &ldquo;If we persist in the attempt to remain
+on this station three days longer, we shall have a
+squadron of heavy frigates, if not a ship of line, to
+deal with. Convinced of this, I offer it as my judgment
+that we had better work along the shore to-day
+and to-morrow, as far as Spurn Head, and then, if
+we do not fall in with the Baltic merchant fleet, stand
+off the coast and make the best of our way to Dunkirk.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Commodore Jones spent a few moments in reflection.
+&ldquo;You are probably right, Cottineau,&rdquo; said he.
+&ldquo;I only wish that another man like you were in command
+of the <i>Alliance</i>. However, we cannot help
+what is and must make the best of it. Go aboard your
+ship and make sail to the south-southwest. Speak the
+<i>Vengeance</i> as you run down, and tell Ricot&mdash;her
+commander&mdash;to rendezvous off Spurn Head. I will
+bring up the rear with this ship. We may fall in
+with the Baltic fleet between here and Scarboro&rsquo;, which
+is usually their first English port of destination at this
+time of the year. Should you happen to sight the
+<i>Alliance</i>, inform Captain Landais of our destination,
+but do not communicate it to him as an order,
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[Pg&nbsp;269]</a></span>
+because that would be likely to expose you only to
+insult.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The two ships turned South, and the next three
+days were without events of importance. At length
+they neared the harbor of Scarboro&rsquo;, and, as they hovered
+about twelve miles off the land, they saw some
+vessels making for the shore, and protecting a fleet
+of merchantmen.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;They&rsquo;re a heavy man-of-war&mdash;either a fifty-gun
+frigate, or a fifty-four&mdash;with a large ship-of-war in
+company,&rdquo; cried one of his Lieutenants, who had been
+watching them through a glass. &ldquo;The Captain of
+the larger one has cleverly man&oelig;uvered to protect his
+merchant ship.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Commodore Jones seemed to be much pleased.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;At last we&rsquo;ll have a little fight,&rdquo; cried he. &ldquo;Bear
+hard for the land, and get between the larger vessel
+and the shore!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Captain Cottineau was signalled to and requested to
+go after the sloop-of-war. About sundown the <i>Richard</i>
+succeeded in weathering the large frigate and
+man&oelig;uvered between her and the land.</p>
+
+<p>The ships neared each other very gradually, for the
+breeze was slight. They were on opposite tacks and
+Commodore Jones readily made out the force and rate
+of his antagonist. By the light of the dying day&mdash;for
+it was about seven <small>P.&nbsp;M.</small>&mdash;he saw that she was a
+new forty-four; a perfect beauty. It was the <i>Serapis</i>&mdash;Captain
+Richard Pearson commanding&mdash;but six
+months off the stocks and on her first cruise as a
+convoy to the Baltic fleet of merchantmen: consisting
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[Pg&nbsp;270]</a></span>
+of about forty vessels laden with timber and other
+naval stores for the use of the British dockyards.
+Jones had hoped to have an opportunity to attack this
+flotilla, but his plans had been frustrated by the vigilance
+and skill of the commander of the men-of-war
+in convoy.</p>
+
+<p>Even now Landais might have got among the merchantmen
+in the fast-sailing <i>Alliance</i>, while Jones and
+Cottineau occupied the attention of the two men-of-war;
+but the French officer did not have sufficient
+courage to tackle them, and kept well beyond striking
+distance.</p>
+
+<p>The Captain of the <i>Serapis</i> stood upon the deck,
+intently gazing at the on-coming vessel.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Gad Zooks!&rdquo; he uttered. &ldquo;From the size of her
+spars and her height out of water I take her to be
+a French fifty of the time of the last war. It&rsquo;s too
+dark for me to see whether she has any lower ports
+or not.&rdquo; He raised his night glasses to his eyes, and,
+in the light of the full moon which was now flooding
+the sea with a silvery haze, saw that his opponent was
+intent upon a fight.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It is probably Paul Jones,&rdquo; said he, lowering the
+glasses. &ldquo;If so&mdash;there&rsquo;s tight work ahead. What
+ship is that?&rdquo; he cried out in loud tones.</p>
+
+<p>No answer came from the dark hull of the <i>Good
+Richard</i>, but, as she swung nearer upon the rolling
+waves, suddenly a flash, a roar, and a sheet of flame
+belched from her side. The battle was on!</p>
+
+<p>It was a struggle which has been talked of for
+years. It was a battle about which the world never
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[Pg&nbsp;271]</a></span>
+seems to tire of reading. It was <em>the</em> battle which has
+made the name of John Paul Jones nautically immortal.</p>
+
+<p>The two warriors of the deep were on the same
+tack, headed northwest, driven by a slight wind which
+veered to the westward. The sea was smooth, the
+sky was clear, the full moon was rising&mdash;the conditions
+for a night struggle were ideal.</p>
+
+<p><em>Crash! Crash! Crash!</em></p>
+
+<p>Broadside after broadside rolled and shrieked from
+ship to ship, as the air was filled with flying bits of
+iron.</p>
+
+<p><em>Crash! Crash! Crash!</em></p>
+
+<p>Travelling very slowly, for the wind was little more
+than sufficient to give them steering-way in the tide,
+the two antagonists drifted along for twenty minutes,
+at cable length (600 to 900 feet&mdash;about the distance
+of the 220 yard dash). But suddenly&mdash;<em>Boom!</em> an
+explosion sounded in the gun-room of the <i>Good Richard</i>.
+Two of her eighteen-pounders had blown up
+back of the trunnions; many of the crew lay dead
+and dying, the after part of the main gun-deck was
+shattered like a reed: Senior Midshipman and Acting
+Lieutenant John Mayrant&mdash;who had command of
+this battery&mdash;was severely wounded in the head by
+a fragment of one of the exploded shells, and was
+scorched by the blast of flame.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Abandon your guns!&rdquo; shouted First Lieutenant
+Dale, &ldquo;and report with your remaining men to the
+main-deck battery!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;All right!&rdquo; answered Mayrant, as he bound a
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[Pg&nbsp;272]</a></span>
+white kerchief around his bleeding head. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll be
+with you just as soon as I give them one more shot.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>This he endeavored to do, but not a gun could be
+touched off. &ldquo;The old sixteen-pounders that formed
+the battery of the lower gun-deck, did no service
+whatever, except firing eight shots in all,&rdquo; writes John
+Paul Jones. &ldquo;Two out of three of them burst at the
+first fire, killing almost all the men who were stationed
+to manage them.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The gunnery of the <i>Good Richard</i> was excellent.
+Though her battery was one-third lighter than that
+of the <i>Serapis</i>; though her gun-crews were composed&mdash;to
+a great extent&mdash;of French volunteers, who had
+never been at sea before&mdash;in quickness and rapidity
+of fire, the shells from the American fell just as accurately
+as did those from the Britisher; pointed and
+gauged by regular, trained English men-of-war seamen.
+The roar of belching cannon was deafening.
+The superior weight and energy of the British shot
+began to tell decisively against the sputtering twelve-pounders
+of the <i>Richard</i>, in spite of the fact that they
+were being served with quickness and precision. As
+the two battling sea-monsters drifted slowly along, a
+pall of sulphurous smoke hung over their black hulls,
+like a sheet of escaping steam. They were drawing
+nearer and nearer to each other.</p>
+
+<p>It was now about a quarter to eight. Wounded
+and dying littered the decks of both Britisher and
+American, but the fight was to the death.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Luff! Luff!&rdquo; cried Captain Pearson, as the <i>Richard</i>
+began to forge near him. &ldquo;Luff! Luff! and let
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[Pg&nbsp;273]</a></span>
+fly with all guns at the water-line. Sink the Yankee
+Pirate!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>But Paul Jones was intent upon grappling with
+his adversary. Quickly jerking the tiller to one side,
+he shoved the <i>Richard</i> into the wind and endeavored
+to run her&mdash;bows on&mdash;into the side of his opponent.
+The <i>Serapis</i> paid off, her stern swung to, and, before
+she could gather way, the <i>Richard</i>&rsquo;s jib-boom shot
+over her larboard quarter and into the mizzen rigging.</p>
+
+<p>Jones was delighted.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Throw out the grappling hooks!&rdquo; cried he, in
+shrill tones. &ldquo;Hold tight to the Britisher and be
+prepared to board!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>In an instant, many clawing irons spun out into
+the mizzen stays of the <i>Serapis</i>; but, though they
+caught, the lines holding them soon parted. The
+<i>Serapis</i> fell off and the <i>Richard</i> lurched ahead.
+Neither had been able to bring her broadsides to bear.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We can&rsquo;t beat her by broadsiding,&rdquo; cried Jones.
+&ldquo;We&rsquo;ve <em>got</em> to board!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><em>Crash! Crash! Crash!</em></p>
+
+<p>Again the cannon made the splinters fly. Again
+the two game-cocks spat at each other like angry cats,
+but, the fire from the <i>Richard</i> was far weaker than
+before.</p>
+
+<p>Commodore Jones walked hastily to the gun-deck.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Dick,&rdquo; said he to Lieutenant Dale, &ldquo;this fellow&rsquo;s
+metal is too heavy for us at this business. He is hammering
+us all to pieces. We must close with him!
+We must get hold of him! Be prepared at any moment
+to abandon this place and bring what men you
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[Pg&nbsp;274]</a></span>
+have left on the spar-deck&mdash;and give them the small
+arms for boarding when you come up.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Lieutenant Dale saluted.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;All right!&rdquo; cried he. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll be with you in a jiffy,
+Commodore.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>As Jones walked hastily to the main deck&mdash;the
+Lieutenant ran to the store-room and dealt out cutlasses,
+pistols and pikes, to the eager men. The deck
+was red with blood.</p>
+
+<p>The worst carnage of all was at &ldquo;number two&rdquo; gun
+of the forward, starboard division. From the first
+broadside until the quarter-deck was abandoned, nineteen
+different men were on this gun, and, at this time,
+only one of the original crew remained. It was the
+little Indian, Antony Jeremiah; or, as his mates called
+him, &ldquo;Red Cherry.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Let me join you,&rdquo; he cried, as he saw Mayrant&rsquo;s
+boarding party. Seizing a cutlass and dirk, he stood
+beside the cluster of men, eager and keen to have a
+chance at the enemy. A soul of fire was that of the
+little savage&mdash;and now he had a splendid opportunity
+to indulge in the natural blood-thirst of his race,
+for an Indian loves a good fight, particularly when
+he is upon the winning side.</p>
+
+<p>The vessels swung on slowly&mdash;the fire from the
+<i>Serapis</i> still strong and accurate; the sputtering volleys
+from the <i>Richard</i> growing weaker and weaker.
+Only three of the nine-pounders on the starboard
+quarter-deck were serviceable; the entire gun-deck
+battery was silent and abandoned.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We have him,&rdquo; cheerfully cried Captain Pearson
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[Pg&nbsp;275]</a></span>
+to one of his aides. &ldquo;But, hello&rdquo;&mdash;he continued,
+&ldquo;what sail is that?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>As he spoke the <i>Alliance</i> came bounding across the
+waves, headed for the two combatants, and looking
+as if she were to speedily close the struggle.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The fight is at an end,&rdquo; said Jones, jubilantly.</p>
+
+<p>Imagine his astonishment, chagrin, and mortification!
+Instead of pounding the English vessel, the
+French ally discharged a broadside full into the stern
+of the <i>Richard</i>, ran off to the northward, close hauled,
+and soon was beyond gun-shot.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Coward!&rdquo; shouted John Paul, shaking his fist at
+the retreating ally. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll get even with you for this
+if it takes me twenty years!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>No wonder he was angered, for, with his main battery
+completely silenced, his ship beginning to sink,
+nearly half his crew disabled, his wheel shot away,
+and his consort firing into him, there remained but
+one chance of victory for John Paul Jones: to foul
+the enemy and board her.</p>
+
+<p>Luckily a spare tiller had been fitted to the rudder
+stem of the <i>Richard</i> below the main tiller&mdash;before
+leaving port&mdash;because of the fear that the wheel
+would be disabled. The foresight of the Commodore
+had effected this; and now&mdash;by means of this extra
+steering-gear&mdash;the battered warrior-ship was enabled
+to make one, last, desperate lunge for victory. It
+was touch and go with John Paul Jones.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I could distinctly hear his voice amid the crashing
+of musketry,&rdquo; says a seaman. &ldquo;He was cheering on
+the French marines in their own tongue, uttering such
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[Pg&nbsp;276]</a></span>
+imprecations upon the enemy as I have never before
+or since heard in French, or any other language. He
+exhorted them to take good aim, pointed out the object
+of their fire, and frequently took their loaded
+muskets from their hands in order to shoot them himself.
+In fact, towards the very last, he had about him
+a group of half a dozen marines who did nothing but
+load their firelocks and hand them to the Commodore;
+who fired them from his own shoulder, standing on
+the quarter-deck rail by the main topmast backstay.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Luck now came to the disabled <i>Richard</i>. A fortunate
+puff of wind struck and filled her sails, shooting
+her alongside of the growling <i>Serapis</i>, and to windward.
+The canvas of the Britisher flapped uselessly
+against her spars. She was blanketed and lost steering-way.
+In a moment the jib-boom of the English
+vessel ran over the poop-deck of the American ship.
+It was seized, grappled by a turn of small hawsers,
+and made fast to the mizzen-mast.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;She&rsquo;s ours!&rdquo; cried John Paul Jones. &ldquo;Seize that
+anchor and splice it down hard!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>As he spoke, the fluke of the starboard anchor of
+the <i>Serapis</i> hooked in the mizzen chains. It was
+lashed fast, and the <i>Richard</i> had been saved.</p>
+
+<p><em>Rattle! Rattle! Crash!</em> sounded the muskets of
+the French marines. The English tried to cut their
+anchor chains and get free, but all who attempted to
+sever these hawsers were struck dead by the accurate
+balls from the marksmen on the poop-deck and round-house
+of the <i>Richard</i>.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I demand your surrender!&rdquo; shouted Pearson.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 410px;">
+<a name="swarmed_into_forecastle" id="swarmed_into_forecastle"></a>
+<img src="images/fpas17.jpg" width="410" height="600" alt="" />
+<p class="smlfont">From an old print.</p>
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">&ldquo;THEY SWARMED INTO THE FORECASTLE AMIDST FIERCE CHEERS.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[Pg&nbsp;277]</a></span>
+&ldquo;Surrender?&rdquo; cried John Paul Jones. &ldquo;Why, I
+am just beginning to fight!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Then he turned to John Mayrant, who stood ready
+to rush across the hammock-nettings into the waist
+of the enemy&rsquo;s ship. Twenty-seven sailors were
+nearby, each with a cutlass and two ship&rsquo;s pistols.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Board &rsquo;em!&rdquo; he cried.</p>
+
+<p>Over the rail went the seamen&mdash;monkey-wise&mdash;over
+the rail, John Mayrant leading with a dirk in
+his teeth, like a Bermuda pirate. They swarmed into
+the forecastle amidst fierce cheers, the rattle of musketry,
+and the hiss of flames. Just at the moment
+that John Mayrant&rsquo;s feet struck the enemy&rsquo;s deck, a
+sailor thrust a boarding-pike through the fleshy part
+of his right thigh. <em>Crack!</em> a pistol spat at him, and
+he fell prostrate.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Remember Portsea jail! Remember Portsea
+jail!&rdquo; cried the dauntless raider, rushing down into
+the forecastle with his wild, yelping sailors. Pearson
+stood there; crest-fallen&mdash;abashed.</p>
+
+<p>Seizing the ensign-halyards of the <i>Serapis</i>, as the
+raging torrent of seamen rolled towards him, the
+brave English sea-captain hauled the flag of his ship
+to the deck.</p>
+
+<p>The <i>Richard</i> had won!</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;He has struck; stop firing! Come on board and
+take possession!&rdquo; yelled Mayrant, running to the rail.</p>
+
+<p>Lieutenant Dale heard him, and, swinging himself
+on the side of the <i>Serapis</i>, made his way to the quarter-deck,
+where Captain Pearson was standing. &ldquo;I
+have the honor, sir, to be the first Lieutenant of the
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[Pg&nbsp;278]</a></span>
+vessel alongside,&rdquo; said he saluting. &ldquo;It is the American
+Continental ship <i>Bon Homme Richard</i>, under
+command of Commodore Paul Jones. What vessel is
+this?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;His Britannic Majesty&rsquo;s late man-of-war the
+<i>Serapis</i>, sir,&rdquo; was the sad response, &ldquo;and I am Captain
+Richard Pearson.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Pardon me, sir,&rdquo; said the American officer, &ldquo;in
+the haste of the moment I forgot to inform you that
+my name is Richard Dale and I must request you to
+pass on board the vessel alongside.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Pearson nodded dejectedly.</p>
+
+<p>As he did so, the first Lieutenant of the <i>Serapis</i>
+came up from below, and, looking at Captain Pearson, asked,</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Has the enemy struck, sir?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No, sir! <em>I</em> have struck!&rdquo; was the sad reply.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Then, I will go below and order our men to cease
+firing,&rdquo; continued the English Lieutenant.</p>
+
+<p>But Lieutenant Dale interrupted.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Pardon me, sir,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;I will attend to that;
+and, as for yourself, please accompany Captain Pearson
+on board the ship alongside.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>With reluctant steps the two officers clambered
+aboard the battered <i>Good Richard</i>, where Commodore
+Jones received them with much courtesy.</p>
+
+<p>Bowing low, Captain Pearson offered him his
+sword. His first Lieutenant did likewise.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Captain Pearson,&rdquo; said the victorious John Paul,
+&ldquo;you have fought heroically. You have worn this
+weapon to your own credit and to the honor of your
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[Pg&nbsp;279]</a></span>
+service. I hope that your sovereign will suitably
+reward you.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The British commander was the image of chagrin
+and despair. He bowed again, and then walked slowly
+into the cabin, followed by his crest-fallen Lieutenant.</p>
+
+<p>It was nearly midnight. The full moon above&mdash;in
+a cloudless sky&mdash;made it almost as light as day.
+Seven feet of water were in the hold of the <i>Richard</i>;
+she had sunk so much that many shot-holes were
+below the water-line and could not be plugged.
+Nearly sixty of her crew lay dead upon her decks;
+more than a hundred and twenty were desperately
+wounded. Every twelve-pounder of the starboard
+broadside was either dismounted, or disabled. The
+starboard side, which had been opposite the <i>Serapis</i>&rsquo;s
+eighteen-pounders, was driven so far in, that, but for
+a few frames and stanchions which remained, the
+whole gun-deck would have fallen through. She was
+afire, and the flames licked upward with an eager
+hiss.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Take the wounded aboard the <i>Serapis</i>!&rdquo; commanded
+Captain Jones. &ldquo;We must desert our good
+ship!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>In an hour&rsquo;s time all were upon the deck of the
+vanquished Britisher. No one was left on the <i>Richard</i>
+but the dead. The torn and tattered flag was still
+flying from the gaff, and, as the battered sea-warrior
+gradually settled in the long swell, the unconquered
+ensign fluttered defiantly in the slight breeze. At
+length the <i>Bon Homme Richard</i> plunged downward
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[Pg&nbsp;280]</a></span>
+by the head; her taffrail rose momentarily on high,
+and, with a hoarse roar of eddying bubbles and sucking
+air, the conqueror disappeared from view. To
+her immortal dead was bequeathed the flag which
+they had so desperately defended.</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<p>So ended the great battle. Thus Paul Jones had
+made his name immortal. And by it he was to be
+known for all time.</p>
+
+<p>This was not the end of his career, by any means.
+He never again fought for the infant Republic of the
+United States. But he became an Admiral in the
+Russian Navy: battled valorously for the great Empress
+Catherine against the Turks, and died in Paris,
+July 18th, 1792.</p>
+
+<p>Buried at the French capital, his body was disinterred
+in the year 1905, and brought to the United
+States, to be entombed with military honors, at Annapolis,
+Maryland.</p>
+
+<p>Paul Jones loved brave men. The braver they were
+the more he loved them. When he went ashore and
+happened to meet his old sailors&mdash;every one of whom
+he knew and called by his first name&mdash;they seldom
+failed to strip his pockets of the last shilling. He
+was generous to a fault and faithful to his friends.
+His time, his purse, his influence were always at the
+call of those who had served under him. A typical
+sea-dog: a brave fighter,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>Then, why not give three times three for John Paul
+Jones?</p>
+
+<p>Are you ready?</p>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[Pg&nbsp;281]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>THE ESCAPE</h2>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&rsquo;Tis of a gallant, Yankee ship that flew the Stripes and Stars,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the whistling wind from the west-nor&rsquo;-west blew through her pitch-pine spars:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With her starboard tacks aboard, my Boys, she hung upon the gale;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On the Autumn night, that we passed the light, on the old Head of Kinsale.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">It was a clear and cloudless eve, and the wind blew steady and strong,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As gayly, o&rsquo;er the sparkling deep, our good ship bowled along;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With the foaming seas beneath her bow, the fiery waves she spread,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And, bending low her bosom of snow, she buried her lee cat-head.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">There was no talk of short&rsquo;ning sail, by him who walked the poop,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And, under the press of her pounding jib, the boom bent like a hoop!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the groaning, moaning water-ways, told the strain that held the tack,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But, he only laughed, as he glanced aloft, at the white and silvery track.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The mid-tide met in the Channel waves that flow from shore to shore,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the mist hung heavy upon the land, from Featherstone to Dunmore,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And that sterling light in Tusker Rock, where the old bell tolls each hour,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the beacon light, that shone so bright, was quenched on Waterford tower.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">What looms upon our starboard bow? What hangs upon the breeze?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&rsquo;Tis time that our good ship hauled her wind, abreast the old Saltees,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For, by her pond&rsquo;rous press of sail, and by her consorts four,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We saw that our morning visitor, was a British Man-of-War.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[Pg&nbsp;282]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">Up spoke our noble Captain&mdash;then&mdash;as a shot ahead of us passed,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;Haul snug your flowing courses! Lay your topsail to the mast!&rdquo;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Those Englishmen gave three loud cheers, from the deck of their covered ark,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And, we answered back by a solid broad-side, from the side of our patriot barque.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;<em>Out booms! Out booms!</em>&rdquo; our skipper cried, &ldquo;<em>Out booms! and give her sheet!</em>&rdquo;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the swiftest keel that e&rsquo;er was launched, shot ahead of the British fleet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&rsquo;Midst a thundering shower of shot,&mdash;and with stern-sails hoisting away,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Down the North Race <em>Paul Jones</em> did steer, just at the break of day.<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class="author">&mdash;<i>Old Ballad.</i></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<a name="Page_283" id="Page_283"><!-- unnumbered title page --></a>
+<p><span class='pagenum'></span></p>
+
+<h2>CAPTAIN SILAS TALBOT<br />
+<br />
+STAUNCH PRIVATEERSMAN OF
+NEW ENGLAND<br />
+<br />
+(1751-1813)</h2>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[Pg&nbsp;284]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>&ldquo;If you want ter learn how ter fight, why jest fight.&rdquo;&mdash;<i>Dock-end
+Philosophy.</i></p>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[Pg&nbsp;285]</a></span></p>
+
+<p class="center padtop">CAPTAIN SILAS TALBOT<br />
+STAUNCH PRIVATEERSMAN OF
+NEW ENGLAND<br />
+(1751-1813)</p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;Talk about your clipper ships, chipper ships, ripper ships,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Talk about your barquentines, with all their spars so fancy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I&rsquo;ll just take a sloop-o&rsquo;-war with Talbot, with Talbot,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An&rsquo; whip &rsquo;em all into &rsquo;er chip, an&rsquo; just to suit my fancy.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;So, heave away for Talbot, for Talbot, for Talbot,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So, heave away for Talbot, an&rsquo; let th&rsquo; Capting steer,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For, he&rsquo;s the boy to smack them, to crack them, to whack them,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For he&rsquo;s th&rsquo; boy to ship with, if you want to privateer.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class="author">&mdash;<i>Ballads of Rhode Island.</i>&mdash;1782.</p>
+
+<p><span class="dropcap">A</span> TRADING vessel, laden with wheat, from Cardigan
+in Wales, was lying to in the English
+Channel. Nearby rolled a long-bodied American
+Privateer, while a boat neared the trader, in the
+stern of which sat a staunch, weather-beaten officer in
+a faded pea-jacket. It was the year 1813 and war was
+on between England and the United States.</p>
+
+<p>When the blustering captain entered the cabin to
+survey his prize, he spied a small box with a hole in the
+top, on which was inscribed the words, &ldquo;Missionary
+Box.&rdquo; He drew back, astonished.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Pray, my bold seaman,&rdquo; said he, turning to the
+Welsh captain, &ldquo;what is this?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[Pg&nbsp;286]</a></span>
+&ldquo;Oh,&rdquo; replied the honest, old sailor, heaving a sigh,
+&ldquo;&rsquo;tis all over now.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What?&rdquo; asked the American privateersman.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Why, the truth is,&rdquo; said the Welshman, &ldquo;that I
+and my poor fellows have been accustomed, every Monday
+morning, to drop a penny each into that box for the
+purpose of sending out missionaries to preach the
+Gospel to the heathen; but it&rsquo;s all over now.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The American seemed to be much abashed.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Indeed,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;that is very good of you.&rdquo;
+And, pausing a few moments, he looked abstractedly
+into the air, humming a tune beneath his breath.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Captain,&rdquo; said he, at length, &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll not hurt a hair
+of your head, nor touch your vessel.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>So saying, he turned on his heel, took to his boat,
+and left the Welshman to pursue its even course. And&mdash;as
+the privateer filled away to starboard&mdash;a voice
+came from the deck of the helpless merchantman,</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;God bless Captain Silas Talbot and his crew!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>But we do not know what the owners of the privateer
+said to the humane skipper about this little
+affair when he returned to New York. They might
+have uttered hard words about a Welshman who scored
+upon him by means of a pious fraud. At any rate
+Silas Talbot had done a good deed.</p>
+
+<p>This valorous privateer was born at Dighton, Massachusetts,
+on the Sakonet River about the year 1752;
+beginning his career at sea as a cabin-boy. At twenty-four
+he was a captain in the United States army and
+fought in the Revolutionary war, for a time, on land.
+But&mdash;by reason of his nautical training&mdash;he was
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[Pg&nbsp;287]</a></span>
+placed in command of a fireship at New York, and was
+soon promoted to be Major&mdash;but still with duties
+upon the water and not the shore. While here, a
+soldier came to him, one day, with his eyes alight in
+excitement.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Major,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;there&rsquo;s a chance for a splendid
+little enterprise. Just off the coast of Rhode Island,
+near Newport, lies a British vessel, moored to a kedge.
+She mounts fifteen guns and around her is stretched a
+stout netting to keep off a party of boarders. But we
+can cut it and get through, I&rsquo;ll warrant. And the game
+is worth the candle.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Young Talbot was delighted at the thought of a
+little expedition.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;ll tell you how we&rsquo;ll cut through,&rdquo; said he.
+&ldquo;We&rsquo;ll fix a small anchor at the bowsprit of our sloop.
+Then, we&rsquo;ll ram her into the netting at night, and&mdash;if
+our vessel can punch hard enough&mdash;we&rsquo;ll have forty
+Americans upon the deck before you can say &lsquo;Jack
+Robinson.&rsquo;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The soldier laughed.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Major Talbot,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;you are a true fighting
+man. I&rsquo;ll have a crew for you within twenty-four
+hours and we&rsquo;ll take the good sloop <i>Jasamine</i>, lying off
+of Hell Gate. Ahoy for the capture of the Englishman!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>In two days&rsquo; time, all was ready for the expedition.
+The sloop <i>Jasamine</i> slowly drifted into the harbor of
+New York, an anchor spliced to her bowsprit, a crew
+of sturdy adventurers aboard; and, filling away in a
+stout sou&rsquo;wester, rolled down the coast in the direction
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[Pg&nbsp;288]</a></span>
+of Rhode Island. Reaching the vicinity of Newport,
+she lay to behind a sheltering peninsula, waiting for the
+night to come, so that she could drop down upon the
+Englishman under the cloak of darkness.</p>
+
+<p>Blackness settled upon the still and waveless water.
+With muffled oars the sloop now glided towards the
+dark hull of the British gun-boat; her men armed to
+the teeth, with fuses alight, and ready to touch off the
+cannon at the slightest sign of discovery. All was still
+upon the towering deck of the war-vessel and the little
+lights twinkled at her bow.</p>
+
+<p>But what was that?</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly a voice came through the darkness.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Who goes there?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>No answer came but the dip of the oars in unison.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Who goes there? Answer, or I fire!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Again the slow beat of the oars and nothing more.</p>
+
+<p><em>Crash!</em></p>
+
+<p>A musket spoke from the jutting bow in front of
+the sloop and a bullet struck in the foremast of the
+staunch attacker, with a resounding z-i-n-n-g!</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We&rsquo;re discovered,&rdquo; whispered Talbot. &ldquo;Pull for
+your lives, men, and punch her like a battering-ram.
+When we&rsquo;ve cut through the netting, let every fellow
+dash upon her decks, and fight for every inch you can.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>As he ceased speaking, the bow of the sloop struck
+the roping stretched around the man-o&rsquo;-warsman, and
+a ripping and tearing was plainly heard above the crash
+of small arms, the shouts of men, and the rumble of
+hawsers. Two cannon spoke from the side of the
+Englishman, and, as their roar echoed across the still
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[Pg&nbsp;289]</a></span>
+ocean, the guns of the <i>Jasamine</i> belched forth their
+answer.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 436px;">
+<a name="talbot_himself" id="talbot_himself"></a>
+<img src="images/fpas18.jpg" width="436" height="600" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">&ldquo;TALBOT, HIMSELF, AT THE HEAD OF HIS ENTIRE CREW, CAME
+LEAPING ACROSS THE SIDE.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The anchor attached to the bowsprit had done what
+was desired. It tore a great hole in the stout netting,
+ripped open a breach sufficiently wide for entrance to
+the deck, and, as the cannon grumbled and spat at the
+sloop,&mdash;the bowsprit was black with jack-tars scrambling
+for an opportunity to board the Britisher.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Now, men,&rdquo; shouted Major Talbot, above the din.
+&ldquo;Swing our craft sideways! Let go the port guns,
+and then let every mother&rsquo;s son rush the foe! And
+your cry must be, &lsquo;Death and no quarter!&rsquo;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>As he ceased, the good <i>Jasamine</i> was forced sideways
+into the man-o&rsquo;-warsman, and, propelled by the
+current, drifted against her with tremendous force,
+crushing the remaining nets as she did so. A few of
+the Americans were already on the deck in a terrific
+struggle with the half-sleepy English seamen, but&mdash;in
+a moment&mdash;Talbot, himself, at the head of his entire
+crew, came leaping across the side.</p>
+
+<p>Now was a scene of carnage. The cutlasses of both
+Yankee tar and British, were doing awful execution,
+and pistols were cracking like hail upon the roof.
+Back, back, went the English before the vigorous assault
+of the stormers, and, as the deck was now piled
+with the dead and dying, the commander of the man-o&rsquo;-warsman
+cried out,</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I surrender! Cease, you Yankee sea-dogs. You&rsquo;re
+too smart for me!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>So saying, he held up a handkerchief tied to his
+cutlass, and the battle ceased.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[Pg&nbsp;290]</a></span>
+The story of the fight of Silas Talbot&rsquo;s was now on
+every lip, and all praised the daring and courage of
+this valorous Major, who was as bold as a lion, and
+as courageous as any seaman who sailed upon the sea.</p>
+
+<p>Promotion came rapidly to the soldier-sailor. In
+1779 he became a colonel and was placed in command
+of the <i>Argo</i>, a sloop of about one hundred tons, armed
+with twelve six-pounders, and carrying but sixty men.
+&rsquo;Tis said that she looked like a &ldquo;clumsy Albany
+trader,&rdquo; with one great, rakish mast, an immense mainsail,
+and a lean boom. Her tiller was very lengthy, she
+had high bulwarks and a wide stern&mdash;but, in spite of
+her raw appearance, she could sail fast and could show
+a clean pair of heels to most vessels of twice her size.</p>
+
+<p>Shortly after taking charge of this privateer, word
+was brought that Captain Hazard of the privateer
+<i>King George</i> was off the coast of Rhode Island.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That&rsquo;s what I want,&rdquo; cried Captain Talbot, slapping
+his knee. &ldquo;This fellow Hazard is an American.
+He was born in Rhode Island, and, instead of joining
+in our righteous cause against the Mother Country, he
+has elected to fight against us. For the base purpose
+of plundering his old neighbors and friends, he has
+fitted out the <i>King George</i> and has already done great
+damage on the coast. Let me but catch the old fox and
+I&rsquo;ll give him a taste of American lead. I&rsquo;ll put a stop
+to the depredations of this renegade.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The <i>King George</i> had fourteen guns and eighty men,
+but this did not worry staunch and nervy Silas Talbot.
+He started in pursuit of her, as soon as he learned of
+her whereabouts, and, before many days, sighted a sail
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[Pg&nbsp;291]</a></span>
+just off the New York coast, which was hoped to be
+the vessel of the renegade.</p>
+
+<p>Mile after mile was passed. Hour by hour the <i>Argo</i>
+ploughed after the silvery sails, until, late in the afternoon,
+the stranger hovered near a shallow harbor on
+the coast, and seemed to await the on-coming privateer
+with full confidence.</p>
+
+<p>The <i>Argo</i> boomed along under a spanking sou&rsquo;wester
+and, sailing near the stranger, to the keen eyes
+of Talbot came the welcome sight of <i>King George</i>
+painted upon the stern of the rakish privateer.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;All hands man the guns,&rdquo; cried he. &ldquo;We&rsquo;ll sink
+th&rsquo; rascally Hazard with all his crew, unless he strikes.
+She&rsquo;s got more men and guns, but what care we for
+that. Take hold, my Hearties, and we&rsquo;ll soon make her
+know her master.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The <i>King George</i> seemed to welcome the coming
+fight; she luffed; lay to; and her men could be seen
+standing ready at the polished cannon. Now was one
+of the strangest battles of American sea history.</p>
+
+<p>The <i>King George</i> cruised along under a full
+spread of canvas, jibbed, came about upon the port
+quarter of the stranger, and ran up to within shooting
+distance, when a broadside was poured into the deck
+of the rolling <i>Argo</i>. She replied with her own fourteen
+guns, and, before they could be reloaded, the <i>King
+George</i> struck her alongside; the American seaman
+swarmed across the rail; and&mdash;if we are to believe a
+historian of the period&mdash;&ldquo;drove the crew of <i>King
+George</i> from their quarters, taking possession of her,
+without a man on either side being killed.&rdquo; Hats off
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[Pg&nbsp;292]</a></span>
+to the doughty Silas Talbot for this brave adventure!
+Did you ever hear of such a fight with no man ever
+being slaughtered?</p>
+
+<p>Again rang the fame of Silas Talbot, but he was not
+to rest long upon laurels won. The British privateer
+<i>Dragon</i>&mdash;of three hundred tons and eighty men&mdash;was
+hovering near Providence, Rhode Island, hungry
+and eager for unprotected merchantmen.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;ll have to strike her,&rdquo; said Captain Talbot.</p>
+
+<p>It was a beautiful day in June. As the <i>Dragon</i>
+drowsed along listlessly a dozen miles off the shore, her
+topsails barely filling in the gentle southerly breeze, the
+watch suddenly stirred, and sang out in no gentle
+tones,</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Sail ho, off the starboard! Looks like Captain
+Talbot of the <i>Argo</i>!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The captain came bounding from his cabin, glass in
+hand.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Sure enough,&rdquo; said he, scanning the white sails
+upon the horizon. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s Talbot and we&rsquo;re in for a
+tight affair. All hands prepare for action!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>There was noise and confusion upon the deck of the
+privateer as the guns were sponged, charges were
+rammed home, and all prepared for battle. Meanwhile,
+the stranger came nearer, and rounding to within
+striking distance, crashed a broadside into the slumbering
+<i>Dragon</i>, who had not yet shown her fangs.</p>
+
+<p><em>Crackle! Crackle! Boom!</em></p>
+
+<p>The small arms from the Britisher began to spit at
+the advancing privateer, and seven of her fourteen
+guns rang out a welcome to the sailors of Rhode
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[Pg&nbsp;293]</a></span>
+Island. The solid shot ploughed through the rigging,
+cutting ropes and spars with knife-like precision.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Round her to on the port quarter!&rdquo; shouted Captain
+Talbot, &ldquo;and get near enough for boarding!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>But, as the <i>Argo</i> swung near her antagonist, the
+<i>Dragon</i> dropped away&mdash;keeping just at pistol-shot
+distance.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Run her down!&rdquo; yelled the stout Rhode Islander,
+as he saw this man&oelig;uvre of his wily foe. Then he
+uttered an exclamation of disgust, for, as he spoke, a
+bullet struck his speaking trumpet; knocking it to the
+deck, and piercing it with a jagged hole.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Never mind!&rdquo; cried he, little disconcerted at the
+mishap. &ldquo;Give it to her, boys!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Then he again uttered an exclamation, for a bounding
+cannon ball&mdash;ricochetting from the deck&mdash;took
+off the end of his coat-tail.<a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;ll settle with you for that,&rdquo; yelled the old sea-dog,
+leaping to a cannon, and, pointing it himself, he
+touched the fuse to the vent. A puff of smoke, a roar,
+and a ball ploughed into the mainmast of the rocking
+<i>Dragon</i>.</p>
+
+<p>Talbot smiled with good humor.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Play for that, my brave fellows,&rdquo; he called out,
+above the din of battle. &ldquo;Once get the mainmast
+overside, and we can board her.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>With a cheer, his sailors redoubled their efforts to
+sink the <i>Dragon</i>, and solid shot fairly rained into her
+hull, as the two antagonists bobbed around the rolling
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[Pg&nbsp;294]</a></span>
+ocean in this death grapple. Thus they sparred and
+clashed for four and a half hours, when, with a great
+splitting of sails and wreck of rigging, the mainmast
+of the <i>Dragon</i> trembled, wavered, and fell to leeward
+with a sickening thud.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;She&rsquo;s ours!&rdquo; yelled Captain Talbot, through his
+dented speaking trumpet.</p>
+
+<p>Sure enough, the <i>Dragon</i> had had enough. Her
+wings had been clipped, and, in a moment more, a
+white flag flew from her rigging.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The <i>Argo</i> is sinking! The <i>Argo</i> is sinking!&rdquo;
+came a cry, at this moment.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Inspect the sides of our sloop,&rdquo; cried Talbot.</p>
+
+<p>This was done, immediately, and it was found that
+there were numerous shot-holes between wind and
+water, which were speedily plugged up. Then, bearing
+down upon the crippled <i>Dragon</i>, she was boarded;
+a prize-crew was put aboard; and the <i>Argo</i> steered for
+home, her men singing,</p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;Talk about your gay, old cocks,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Yankee, Doodle, Dandy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&lsquo;Si&rsquo; Talbot he can heave the blocks,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And stick like pepp&rsquo;mint candy.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">&ldquo;Yankee&mdash;Doodle&mdash;Shoot and kill,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Yankee&mdash;Doodle&mdash;Dandy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Yankee&mdash;Doodle&mdash;Back an&rsquo; fill,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Yankee&mdash;Doodle&mdash;Dandy.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p>Silas Talbot, in fact, had done extremely well, but,
+not content with his laurels already won, he soon put
+out again upon the <i>Argo</i>, in company with another
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[Pg&nbsp;295]</a></span>
+privateer from Providence, Rhode Island, called the
+<i>Saratoga</i>; which sailed under a Captain Munro. They
+were not off the coast more than two days when they
+came across the <i>Dublin</i>; a smart, English privateer-cutter
+of fourteen guns, coming out of Sandy Hook.
+Instead of running away, she ploughed onward, and
+cleared for action.</p>
+
+<p>The <i>Argo</i> and the <i>Saratoga</i> ran in upon the windward
+quarter and banged away with audacity. The
+fight lasted for an hour. Then&mdash;as the <i>Argo</i> tacked
+in closer in order to grapple and board&mdash;the <i>Saratoga</i>
+was headed for the privateer. But&mdash;instead of coming
+in&mdash;she began to run off in the wind.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Hard a-weather! Hard up there with the helm!&rdquo;
+cried Captain Munro.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It is hard up!&rdquo; cried the steersman.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You lie, you blackguard!&rdquo; cried Munro. &ldquo;She
+goes away lasking! Hard a-weather I say again!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It is hard a-weather, I say again, captain,&rdquo; cried
+the fellow at the tiller.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Captain Talbot thinks that I am running away
+when I want to join him,&rdquo; cried Munro. &ldquo;What the
+deuce is the matter anyway?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Why, I can tell you,&rdquo; cried a young Lieutenant.
+&ldquo;You&rsquo;ve got an iron tiller in place of the wooden one,
+and she&rsquo;s loose in the rudder head, so your boat won&rsquo;t
+steer correctly.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Egad, you&rsquo;re right,&rdquo; said Munro, as he examined
+the top of the tiller. &ldquo;Now, jam her over and we&rsquo;ll
+catch this <i>Dublin</i> of old Ireland, or else I&rsquo;m no sailor.
+We&rsquo;ll give her a broadside, too, when we come up.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[Pg&nbsp;296]</a></span>
+The <i>Argo</i>, meanwhile, was hammering the Englishman
+in good fashion, and, as the <i>Saratoga</i> pumped a
+broadside into her&mdash;raking her from bow to stern&mdash;the
+<i>Dublin</i> struck her colors.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Two to one, is too much odds,&rdquo; cried the English
+captain, as a boat neared the side of his vessel. &ldquo;I
+could have licked either of you, alone.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>And, at this, both of the American privateersmen
+chuckled.</p>
+
+<p>Old &ldquo;Si&rdquo; Talbot was soon in another fight. Three
+days later he chased another sail, and coming up with
+her, found his antagonist to be the <i>Betsy</i>: an English
+privateer of twelve guns and fifty-eight men, commanded
+by an honest Scotchman.</p>
+
+<p>The <i>Argo</i> ranged up alongside and Talbot hailed
+the stranger. After a bit of talk he hoisted the Stars
+and Stripes, crying,</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You must haul down those British colors, my
+friend!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>To which the Scot replied:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Notwithstanding I find you an enemy, as I suspected,
+yet, sir, I believe that I shall let them hang a
+little longer, with your permission. So fire away,
+Flanagan!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And that I&rsquo;ll do,&rdquo; yelled Talbot. &ldquo;Flanagan will
+be O&rsquo;Toole and O&rsquo;Grady before the morning&rsquo;s over.
+For I&rsquo;ll beat you like an Irish constable from Cork.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>So it turned out. Before an hour was past, the
+<i>Betsy</i> had struck, the captain was killed, and all of
+his officers were wounded.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Old Si&rdquo;&mdash;you see&mdash;had had good luck. So
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[Pg&nbsp;297]</a></span>
+well, indeed, had he fought, that in 1780 he was put
+in command of a good-sized vessel, the <i>General Washington</i>.
+In her he cruised about Sandy Hook in search
+of spoil.</p>
+
+<p>One hazy day in August, the watch sang out,</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Several sail astern, Sir! Looks like a whole
+squadron!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Talbot seized the glass and gazed intently at the
+specks of white.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Egad! It <em>is</em> a squadron,&rdquo; said he, at length.
+&ldquo;And they&rsquo;re after me. Crowd on every stitch of
+canvas and we&rsquo;ll run for it.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>So all sail was hoisted, and the <i>General Washington</i>
+stood out to sea.</p>
+
+<p>But the sails of the pursuers grew strangely clear.
+They came closer, ever closer, and Talbot paced the
+deck impatiently.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Gad Zooks!&rdquo; cried he, &ldquo;I wish that I could fly like
+a bird.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He could not fly, and, in two hours&rsquo; time the red flag
+on the foremast of a British brig was clear to the eyes
+of the crew of the privateer. When&mdash;an hour later&mdash;a
+solid shot spun across his bow, &ldquo;Old Si&rdquo; Talbot hove
+to, and ran up the white flag. He was surrounded by
+six vessels of the English and he felt, for once, that
+discretion was the better part of valor.</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<p>&ldquo;Old Si&rdquo; was now thrown into a prison ship off
+Long Island and then was taken to England aboard
+the <i>Yarmouth</i>. Imprisoned at Dartmoor, he made
+four desperate attempts to escape. All failed.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[Pg&nbsp;298]</a></span>
+In the summer of 1781 he was liberated; found his
+way home to Rhode Island; and died &ldquo;with his boots
+on&rdquo; in New York, June 30th, 1813. The old sea-dogs
+of his native state still cherish the memory of
+&ldquo;Capting Si;&rdquo; singing a little song, which runs:</p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">&ldquo;He could take &rsquo;er brig or sloop, my boy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">An&rsquo; fight her like &rsquo;er man.<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">He could steer &rsquo;er barque or barquentine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">An&rsquo; make her act jest gran!<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">&lsquo;Ole Si&rsquo; wuz &rsquo;er rip-dazzler,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">His flag wuz never struck,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Until &rsquo;er British squadroon,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Jest catched him in th&rsquo; ruck.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;So drink &rsquo;er drop ter &lsquo;Ole Si,&rsquo; Sky-high, Oh my!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Drink &rsquo;er glass ter &lsquo;Ole Si,&rsquo; th&rsquo; skipper from our kentry.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Give three cheers fer &lsquo;Ole Si,&rsquo; Sky-high, Oh my!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Give three cheers fer &lsquo;Ole Si,&rsquo; th&rsquo; pride o&rsquo; Newport&rsquo;s gentry.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTE:</h3>
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> A true incident vouched for by two historians.</p></div>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;">
+<a name="privateer_capturing_two" id="privateer_capturing_two"></a>
+<img src="images/fpas19.jpg" width="600" height="365" alt="" />
+<p class="smlfont">From &ldquo;The Army and Navy of the United States.&rdquo;</p>
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">AMERICAN PRIVATEER CAPTURING TWO ENGLISH SHIPS.</p>
+
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<a name="Page_299" id="Page_299"><!-- unnumbered title page --></a>
+<p><span class='pagenum'></span></p>
+
+<h2>CAPTAIN &ldquo;JOSH&rdquo; BARNEY<br />
+<br />
+THE IRREPRESSIBLE YANKEE<br />
+<br />
+(1759-1818)</h2>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[Pg&nbsp;300]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>&ldquo;Never strike your flag until you have to. And if you have
+to, why let it come down easy-like, with one, last gun,&mdash;fer
+luck.&rdquo;&mdash;<i>Maxims of 1812.</i></p>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[Pg&nbsp;301]</a></span></p>
+
+<p class="center padtop">CAPTAIN &ldquo;JOSH&rdquo; BARNEY<br />
+THE IRREPRESSIBLE YANKEE<br />
+(1759-1818)</p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">If you would hear of fighting brave,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of war&rsquo;s alarms and prisons dark,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then, listen to the tale I tell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of Yankee pluck&mdash;and cruising barque,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which, battling on the rolling sea,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There fought and won,&mdash;Can such things be?<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p><span class="dropcap">I</span>T was about eight o&rsquo;clock in the evening. The
+moon was bright, and as the privateer <i>Pomona</i>
+swung along in the fresh breeze, her Captain,
+Isaiah Robinson of New York, laid his hand softly
+upon the shoulder of his first officer, Joshua Barney,
+saying,</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;A ship off the lee-quarter, Barney, she&rsquo;s an Englishman,
+or else my name&rsquo;s not Robinson.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Barney raised his glass.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;A British brig, and after us, too. She&rsquo;s a fast
+sailer and is overhauling us. But we&rsquo;ll let her have
+a broadside from our twelve guns and I believe that
+we can stop her.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The <i>Pomona</i> carried thirty-five men. Laden with
+tobacco for Bordeaux, France, she was headed for
+that sunny land,&mdash;but all ready for a fight, if one
+should come to her. And for this she carried twelve
+guns, as her first officer had said.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[Pg&nbsp;302]</a></span>
+The British boat came nearer and nearer. Finally
+she was close enough for a voice to be heard from her
+deck, and she ran up her colors. A cry came from
+the black body,</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What ship is that?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>There was no reply, but the Stars and Stripes were
+soon floating from the mainmast of the American.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Haul down those colors!&rdquo; came from the Britisher.</p>
+
+<p>There was no answer, but the <i>Pomona</i> swung
+around so that her port guns could bear, and a clashing
+broadside plunged into the pursuer. Down came
+her fore-topsail, the rigging cut and torn in many
+places, and, as the American again showed her heels,
+the British captain cried out,</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;All sail aloft and catch the saucy and insolent
+privateer!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Then commenced one of the most interesting running
+actions of American naval history.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The cursed American has no stern-gun ports,&rdquo;
+said the British sea-captain. &ldquo;So keep the ship abaft,
+and on th&rsquo; port quarter, where we can let loose our
+bow-guns and get little in return.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>This was done, but&mdash;if we are to believe an old
+chronicler of the period&mdash;&ldquo;The British crew had
+been thrown into such confusion by the <i>Pomona</i>&rsquo;s
+first broadside that <em>they were able to fire only one or
+two shots every half hour</em>.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;By Gad,&rdquo; cried Joshua Barney to Captain Robinson,
+about this time, &ldquo;let&rsquo;s cut a hole in our stern,
+shove a cannon through it, and whale the British
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[Pg&nbsp;303]</a></span>
+landlubber as he nears us for another shot with her
+bow-chasers.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The captain grinned.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;A good idea, Barney, a good idea,&rdquo; he chuckled.
+&ldquo;Now we can teach her to keep clear of us.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>So a three-pounder soon poked her nose through
+the stern, and, when the proud Britisher again came
+up for one of her leisurely discharges, she received a
+dose of grape which made her captain haul off precipitously.
+Nor did he venture near again for another
+shot at the saucy fugitive.</p>
+
+<p>When daylight came, sixteen guns were counted
+upon the British brig.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;By George!&rdquo; shouted Barney. &ldquo;See those officers
+in the rigging. She&rsquo;s a gun-ship&mdash;a regular
+ship-of-war.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>But Captain Robinson laughed.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That&rsquo;s an old game,&rdquo; said he. &ldquo;They&rsquo;re tryin&rsquo;
+to fool us into the belief that she&rsquo;s a real gun-boat,
+so&rsquo;s we&rsquo;ll surrender immediately. But see&mdash;she&rsquo;s
+drawin&rsquo; near again&mdash;and seems as if she&rsquo;s about to
+board us from the looks of her crew.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Barney gazed intently at the stranger.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You&rsquo;re right,&rdquo; said he. &ldquo;Load the three-pounder
+with grape-shot.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And here&rsquo;s a crow-bar as&rsquo;ll top it off nice,&rdquo; put
+in a sailor.</p>
+
+<p>Captain Robinson laughed.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, spike her in, too. She&rsquo;ll plunk a hole clear
+through th&rsquo; rascal,&rdquo; he cried. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll touch her off
+myself.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[Pg&nbsp;304]</a></span>
+The British gun-boat drew nearer and nearer. Just
+as she was within striking distance&mdash;about ten yards&mdash;the
+three-pounder was touched off with a deaf&rsquo;ning
+roar.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;So accurate was the aim,&rdquo; says an old historian,
+&ldquo;that the British were completely baffled in their
+attempt; their foresails and all their weather foreshrouds
+being cut away.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Give her a broadside!&rdquo; called out Captain Robinson,
+as the brig sheered off in order to support its
+foremast, which tottered with its own weight; the
+rigging which supported it, being half cut away. And,
+as he spoke&mdash;the crew let drive a shower of balls
+and grape-shot. It was the last volley.</p>
+
+<p>The <i>Pomona</i> kept upon her course, while the white
+sails of the attacker grew fainter and fainter upon
+the horizon.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I saw her name as she ranged in close to us,&rdquo;
+said Joshua Barney, slapping Captain Robinson on the
+back. &ldquo;And it was the <i>Rosebud</i>.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I reckon that <i>Rosebud</i> has no thorns left,&rdquo;
+chuckled Captain Robinson, and he was still chuckling
+when the little <i>Pomona</i> safely sailed into the harbor
+of Bordeaux in France. The voyage had been
+a success.</p>
+
+<p>Here a store of guns, powder and shot was purchased,
+and, having shipped a cargo of brandy, and
+raised the crew to seventy men, the staunch, little vessel
+set sail for America.</p>
+
+<p>Not three days from the coast of France the cry
+of &ldquo;Sail ho!&rdquo; startled all on board, and, upon the
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[Pg&nbsp;305]</a></span>
+starboard quarter&mdash;loomed a British privateer. Upon
+nearer view she was seen to have sixteen guns and
+seventy men.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;All hands for a fight!&rdquo; cried Robinson. &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t
+let th&rsquo; fellow escape.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Now was a hard battle. It lasted for full two hours,
+and&mdash;in the end&mdash;the Britisher struck, with twelve
+killed and a number wounded, while the American
+loss was but one killed and two wounded. The <i>Pomona</i>
+kept upon her course, jubilantly.</p>
+
+<p>But the saucy ship was not to have all smooth sailing.
+She was soon captured&mdash;by whom it is not
+known&mdash;and stout &ldquo;Josh&rdquo; Barney became a prisoner
+of war. In December, 1780, with about seventy
+American officers, he was placed on board the <i>Yarmouth</i>&mdash;a
+sixty-four-gun brig&mdash;and was shipped
+to England.</p>
+
+<p>Now listen to the treatment given him according
+to a contemporaneous historian. Did you ever hear
+of anything more atrocious? Peace&mdash;indeed&mdash;had
+more horrors than war in the year 1780.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;From the time these Americans stepped aboard
+the <i>Yarmouth</i> their captors gave it to be understood,
+by hints and innuendos, that they were being taken
+to England &lsquo;to be hanged as rebels;&rsquo; and, indeed
+the treatment they received aboard the <i>Yarmouth</i> on
+the passage over, led them to believe that the British
+officers intended to cheat the gallows of their prey, by
+causing the prisoners to die before they reached port.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;On coming aboard the ship-of-the-line, these officers
+were stowed away in the lower hold, next to
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[Pg&nbsp;306]</a></span>
+the keel, under five decks, and many feet below the
+water-line. Here, in a twelve-by-twenty-foot room,
+with upcurving floor, and only three feet high, the
+seventy-one men were kept for fifty-three days, like
+so much merchandise&mdash;without light or good air&mdash;unable
+to stand upright, with no means to get away.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Their food was of the poorest quality, and was
+supplied in such insufficient quantities, that, whenever
+one of the prisoners died, the survivors concealed the
+fact, in order that the dead man&rsquo;s allowance might be
+added to theirs. The water which they were served
+to drink was atrocious.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;From the time the <i>Yarmouth</i> left New York till
+she reached Plymouth, in a most tempestuous winter
+passage, these men were kept in this loathsome dungeon.
+Eleven died in delirium; their wild ravings
+and piercing shrieks appalling their comrades, and
+giving them a foretaste of what they, themselves,
+might expect. Not even a surgeon was permitted to
+visit them.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Arriving at Plymouth, the pale, emaciated men
+were ordered to come on deck. Not one obeyed, for
+they were unable to stand upright. Consequently
+they were hoisted up, the ceremony being grimly suggestive
+of the manner in which they had been treated,&mdash;like
+merchandise. And what were they to do, now
+that they had been placed on deck?</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The light of the sun, which they had scarcely seen
+for fifty-three days, fell upon their weak, dilated pupils
+with blinding force; their limbs were unable to
+uphold them, their frames wasted by disease and want.
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[Pg&nbsp;307]</a></span>
+Seeking for support, they fell in a helpless mass, one
+upon the other, waiting and almost hoping for the
+blow that was to fall upon them next. Captain Silas
+Talbot was one of these unfortunate prisoners.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;To send them ashore in this condition was &lsquo;impracticable,&rsquo;
+so the British officers said, and we readily
+discover that this &lsquo;impracticable&rsquo; served the purpose
+of diverting the indignation of the land&rsquo;s folk,
+which sure would be aroused, if they knew that such
+brutality had been practiced under the cross of St.
+George (the cross upon the British flag).</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Waiting, then, until the captives could, at least,
+endure the light of day, and could walk without leaning
+on one another, or clutching at every object for
+support, the officers had them removed to the old Mill
+Prison.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>This story has been denied, for the reason that the
+log of the <i>Yarmouth</i> shows that she was forty-four
+and not fifty-three days at sea, and the captain writes:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We had the prisoners &lsquo;watched&rsquo; (divided into
+port and starboard watch) and set them to the pumps.
+I found it necessary so to employ them, the ship&rsquo;s
+company, from their weak and sickly state, being
+unequal to that duty, and, on that account to order
+them whole allowance of provisions.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>It would have been impossible for men to be in the
+condition which the first historian describes if they
+had to man the pumps. It would have been impossible
+for them to have done an hour&rsquo;s work. Therefore,
+I, myself, believe the second story. Don&rsquo;t you?</p>
+
+<p>But to return to stout &ldquo;Josh&rdquo; Barney, now
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[Pg&nbsp;308]</a></span>
+meditating thoughts of escape in old Mill Prison. Bold
+and resourceful he was always, and he was now determined
+to face the difficulties of an exit and the chances
+of detection. &ldquo;I must and can get away,&rdquo; he said.</p>
+
+<p>The prisoners were accustomed to play leap-frog,
+and one day the crafty &ldquo;Josh&rdquo; pretended that he had
+sprained his ankle. Constructing two crutches&mdash;out
+of pieces of boards&mdash;he limped around the prison-yard
+and completely deceived all but a few of his
+most intimate friends.</p>
+
+<p>One day&mdash;it was May the eighteenth, 1781&mdash;he
+passed a sentry near the inner gate. The fellow&rsquo;s name
+was Sprokett and he had served in the British army
+in America, where he had received many kindnesses
+from the country people. For this reason his heart
+warmed to the stout, young &ldquo;Josh,&rdquo; who had often
+engaged him in conversation.</p>
+
+<p>Hopping to the gate upon his crutches, the youthful
+American whispered,</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Give me a British uniform and I will get away.
+Can you do it?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Sprokett smiled.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Sure,&rdquo; said he.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;To-day?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Dinner.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>And this meant one o&rsquo;clock, when the warders
+dined.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;All right,&rdquo; whispered &ldquo;Josh,&rdquo; smiling broadly,
+and he again hobbled around the yard.</p>
+
+<p>After awhile the sentry motioned for him to come
+nearer. He did so&mdash;and as he approached&mdash;a large
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[Pg&nbsp;309]</a></span>
+bundle was stealthily shoved into his arms. He
+hastened to his cell and there put on the undress uniform
+of an officer of the British army.</p>
+
+<p>Drawing on his great-coat, he went into the yard
+and hobbled about upon his two sticks until the time
+drew near for the mid-day mess. Then he drew close
+to the gate.</p>
+
+<p>One o&rsquo;clock tolled from the iron bell upon the
+prison rampart, and, as its deep-toned echoes sounded
+from its tower, several of Barney&rsquo;s friends engaged
+the half-dozen sentries in conversation. It was the
+time for action.</p>
+
+<p>The astute &ldquo;Josh&rdquo; suddenly dropped his crutches.
+Then&mdash;walking across the enclosure towards the
+gate,&mdash;he winked to the sentry. A companion was
+at hand. With a spring he leaped upon his shoulders.
+One boost&mdash;and he was on top of the walk. Another
+spring, and he had dropped to the other side as
+softly as a cat.</p>
+
+<p>But the second gate and sentry had to be passed.</p>
+
+<p>Walking up to this red-coated individual he placed
+four guineas (about $20.00) into his outstretched
+palm. The soldier smiled grimly, as the great-coat
+was tossed aside, and the shrewdest privateer in the
+American Navy walked towards the opening through
+the outer wall, which was usually left ajar for the
+convenience of the prison officials. Another sentry
+stood upon duty at this point.</p>
+
+<p>Barney nodded. The sentry had been &ldquo;squared&rdquo;
+(told of the coming escape) and so he turned his back.
+Thus&mdash;with his heart beating like a trip-hammer&mdash;&ldquo;Josh,&rdquo;
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[Pg&nbsp;310]</a></span>
+the nervy one&mdash;walked down the cobbled
+street outside of the &ldquo;Old Mill.&rdquo; He was free.</p>
+
+<p>Dodging into a lane, he soon met a friend who had
+been told of his attempt, and who took him to the
+house of an old clergyman in Plymouth. In the morning,
+with two fellow-countrymen, who were also in
+hiding (for they had been captured as passengers in
+a merchant vessel), he secured a fishing-smack.
+&ldquo;Josh&rdquo; now covered his uniform. Putting on an
+old coat with a tarred rope tied around his waist, a
+pair of torn trousers, and a tarpaulin hat, the disguised
+Jack-tar ran the little vessel down the River
+Plym, just as day was dawning. The forts and men-of-war
+were safely passed, and the little shallop tossed
+upon the gleaming wavelets of the English channel.</p>
+
+<p>We are told that his escape was not noticed for some
+time because &ldquo;a slender youth who was capable of
+creeping through the window-bars at pleasure crawled
+into Barney&rsquo;s cell (in the Old Mill Prison) and answered
+for him.&rdquo; I doubt this, for&mdash;if you have
+ever seen the bars of a prison&mdash;it would take a Jack
+Spratt to get through them, and Jack Spratts are not
+common. At any rate someone answered to the daily
+roll-call for Joshua B., so that it was full two weeks
+before the authorities knew of his escape. Perhaps
+there was a ventriloquist in the jail.</p>
+
+<p>The tiny boat in which the adventurous American
+hoped to reach the welcome shores of France, bobbed
+up and down, as she ambled towards the low-lying
+coast, under a gentle southerly breeze. But there was
+trouble in this self-same wind, for the white wings
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[Pg&nbsp;311]</a></span>
+of a British privateer grew nearer and nearer, and a
+hail soon came:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What&rsquo;s your name, and where are you bound?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Barney and his partners in distress did not answer
+at all. They scowled as a boat was lowered from the
+side of their pursuer, and quickly splashed towards
+them. In not many moments, a swearing sea-captain
+swung himself upon their deck.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Who are you, you lubbers?&rdquo; said he. &ldquo;Where&rsquo;
+yer papers, and where&rsquo; yer bound to?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;m a British officer,&rdquo; replied the astute Joshua,
+opening his coat and disclosing the uniform of the
+service. &ldquo;I am bound for France upon official business.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The Captain snickered.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;An&rsquo; with two others in er&rsquo; launch? Aw go tell
+that to th&rsquo; marines!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It&rsquo;s God&rsquo;s truth. I&rsquo;m in a state secret.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Wall&mdash;be that as it may be&mdash;you must come
+aboard of my vessel and tell yer state secret to th&rsquo;
+authorities in England. Meanwhile, I&rsquo;ll put a skipper
+of my own aboard yer vessel and we&rsquo;ll travel together&mdash;bein&rsquo;
+friends.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Barney swore beneath his breath.</p>
+
+<p>Thus the two boats beat towards the coast of Merrie
+England in company, and upon the day following,
+came to anchor in a small harbor, six miles from
+Plymouth. The captain of the privateer went ashore
+in order to report to Admiral Digby at Plymouth,
+while most of the crew also hastened to the beach in
+order to avoid the chance of being seized by the press-gang,
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[Pg&nbsp;312]</a></span>
+which harried incoming vessels for recruits for
+His Majesty&rsquo;s service.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Can&rsquo;t I go, too?&rdquo; asked the cautious &ldquo;Josh.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No, you must remain on board until we come for
+you,&rdquo; said the captain, as he jumped into his boat en
+route for the shore. &ldquo;Mister Officer, I want to search
+your record.&rdquo; Then he laughed brutishly.</p>
+
+<p>But Barney&rsquo;s thinking cap was working like a mill
+race. There was a jolly-boat tied to the stern of the
+privateer, and, when all were safe ashore, he gently
+slipped into this, purposely skinning his leg as he did
+so. Then he sculled to the beach; where a group of
+idlers stood looking out to sea.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Here,&rdquo; he cried, as he neared them. &ldquo;Help me
+haul up this boat, will yer? She&rsquo;s awful heavy.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>A custom&rsquo;s officer was among these loiterers and he
+was inquisitive.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Who are you?&rdquo; said he. &ldquo;What regiment and
+where stationed, pray?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That I cannot answer, my friend,&rdquo; calmly replied
+the acute &ldquo;Josh,&rdquo; pointing to the blood as it trickled
+through his stocking. &ldquo;I am badly injured, you see,
+and must go away in order to get my leg tied up.
+Prithee, kind sir, can you tell me where the crew from
+my vessel have gone to?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;They are at the Red Lion at the end of the village,&rdquo;
+replied the official of the law. &ldquo;You are, indeed,
+badly hurt.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Wall, I reckon,&rdquo; replied the American, and, stumbling
+up the beach, he was soon headed for the end
+of the little village.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[Pg&nbsp;313]</a></span>
+But things were not to go too well with him. He
+found that he was obliged to pass the Red Lion, and
+he had almost succeeded in doing so unmolested, when
+one of the sailors who was loitering outside, cried
+out after him,</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ho, friend! I would speak with you!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Josh&rdquo; had to stop although sorely tempted to run
+for it.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;ve got some idee of shippin&rsquo; in th&rsquo; Navy,&rdquo; said
+the fellow, as he approached. &ldquo;Now, friend, you can
+tell me somethin&rsquo; of th&rsquo; pay an&rsquo; service, as you&rsquo;re an
+officer of th&rsquo; army.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Barney&rsquo;s eyes shone with pleasure, as he saw that
+his disguise had deceived the fellow.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Walk along with me towards Plymouth,&rdquo; said he,
+&ldquo;and I&rsquo;ll explain everything to you. I have business
+there which will not wait and I must get on
+to it.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>So they jogged along together, talking vigorously
+about the Navy, but, in the course of half an hour
+the jack-tar seemed to think better of his plan for
+entering &ldquo;a service noted for its cruelty to seamen,&rdquo;
+and turned back, saying,</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Thank&rsquo;ee my fine friend. Thank&rsquo;ee. I&rsquo;ll stick to
+privateerin&rsquo;. It&rsquo;s easier an&rsquo; there&rsquo;s less cat-o&rsquo;-nine-tails
+to it.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>As soon as his burly form disappeared down the
+winding road, Barney began to grow anxious about
+his safety. Perhaps a guard would be sent after him?
+Perhaps&mdash;even now&mdash;men had discovered his absence
+and were hurrying to intercept him? So&mdash;with
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">[Pg&nbsp;314]</a></span>
+these thoughts upon his mind&mdash;he jumped over
+a stiff hedge into the grounds of Lord Mount-Edgecumbe.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Egad! it&rsquo;s touch and go with me,&rdquo; said he, as he
+walked down one of the gravelled paths. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m in
+for it now for here comes the gardener.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Sure enough, towards him ambled a middle-aged
+fellow, smiling as he pushed along a wheel-barrow
+filled with bulbs.</p>
+
+<p>Joshua walked up to him, extending his right
+hand.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;My friend,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;I am an officer escaping
+from some seamen who wish my life because of a
+duel in which I recently engaged over the hand of a
+fair lady. Here is a guinea. It is all that I possess.
+And&mdash;if you could but pilot me to the waterside and
+will not tell of my whereabouts&mdash;I will bless you to
+my dying day.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The good-humored man-of-the-soil smiled benignly.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Prithee, but follow me,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;and we&rsquo;ll soon
+see that you pass by the way of the water gate. Your
+money is most welcome, sir, for my wife is just now
+ill and doctors must be paid, sir. That you know
+right well.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Barney breathed easier as they walked towards the
+sea; for out of the corner of his eye he saw a
+guard&mdash;sent to capture him&mdash;tramping along
+the other side of the hedge over which he had
+leaped.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Good-bye and good luck!&rdquo; cried the kind-hearted
+servant as he closed the private gate which led to the
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">[Pg&nbsp;315]</a></span>
+waterside. And, with a wave of the hand, the fleeing
+American was soon hastening to the winding river,
+over which he must cross in order to get on to Plymouth.</p>
+
+<p>Luck was still with him. A butcher who was ferrying
+some beeves by water, took him in his boat, and,
+as night fell, the keen-witted privateersman crept
+through the back door of the old clergyman&rsquo;s house
+at Plymouth&mdash;from which he had started. For the
+time being, he was safe.</p>
+
+<p>Strange to relate, the two friends of the fishing-smack
+adventure here joined him once more, for they,
+also, had run away from the crew of the privateer,
+and&mdash;as they sat around the supper-table&mdash;the town-crier
+went by the house, bawling in harsh and discordant
+tones:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Five guineas reward for the capture of Joshua
+Barney; a rebel deserter from Mill Prison! Five
+guineas reward for this deserter! Five guineas! Five
+guineas!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>But Barney stuffed his napkin into his mouth in
+order to stop his laughter.</p>
+
+<p>Three days later a clean-shaven, bright-cheeked,
+young dandy stepped into a post chaise, at midnight,
+and drove off to Exeter. At Plymouth gate the conveyance
+was stopped; a lantern was thrust into the
+black interior; and the keen eyes of the guard scanned
+the visages of those within:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;He&rsquo;s not here,&rdquo; growled the watchman, lowering
+the light. &ldquo;Drive on!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Thus Joshua Barney rolled on to home and freedom,
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">[Pg&nbsp;316]</a></span>
+while the stout-bodied soldier little guessed that
+the artful privateersman had slipped through his fingers
+like water through a sieve.</p>
+
+<p>Two months later&mdash;in the autumn of 1781&mdash;Joshua
+Barney: fighter, privateer, liar and fugitive,
+walked down the quiet streets of Beverly, Massachusetts,
+and a little fish-monger&rsquo;s son whispered to his companions,</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Say, Boys! That feller is a Jim Dandy. He&rsquo;s
+been through more&rsquo;n we&rsquo;ll ever see. Say! He&rsquo;s a
+regular Scorcher!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<p>Many months later&mdash;when the Revolutionary War
+had ended&mdash;the good ship <i>General Washington</i> lay
+in Plymouth Harbor on the south coast of England.
+Her commander&mdash;Captain Joshua Barney&mdash;gazed
+contentedly at the Stars and Stripes as they flew
+jauntily from the mizzen-mast, and then walked to
+the rail, as a group of British officers came over the
+side. But there was one among these guests who was
+not an officer. He was bent, old, weather-beaten;
+and his dress showed him to be a tiller and worker
+of the soil. It was the aged and faithful gardener of
+Lord Mount-Edgecumbe.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You remember me?&rdquo; cried the genial American,
+grasping the honest servant by the hand.</p>
+
+<p>The gardener&rsquo;s eyes were alight with pleasure.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You are the feller who jumped over the hedge&mdash;many
+years ago&mdash;when the sea-dogs were hot upon
+your trail.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Joshua Barney chuckled.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">[Pg&nbsp;317]</a></span>
+&ldquo;The same,&rdquo; said he. &ldquo;And here is a purse of
+gold to reward my kind and worthy helpmeet.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>So saying, he placed a heavy, chamois bag of glittering
+eagles into the trembling hands of the ancient
+retainer.</p>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">[Pg&nbsp;318]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>THE DERELICT</h2>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Unmoored, unmanned, unheeded on the deep&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Tossed by the restless billow and the breeze,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It drifts o&rsquo;er sultry leagues of tropic seas.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where long Pacific surges swell and sweep,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When pale-faced stars their silent watches keep,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From their far rhythmic spheres, the Pleiades,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In calm beatitude and tranquil ease,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Smile sweetly down upon its cradled sleep.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Erewhile, with anchor housed and sails unfurled,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We saw the stout ship breast the open main,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To round the stormy Cape, and span the World,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In search of ventures which betoken gain.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To-day, somewhere, on some far sea we know<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her battered hulk is heaving to and fro.<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<a name="Page_319" id="Page_319"><!-- unnumbered title page --></a>
+<p><span class='pagenum'></span></p>
+
+<h2>ROBERT SURCOUF<br />
+<br />
+THE &ldquo;SEA HOUND&rdquo; FROM ST. MALO<br />
+<br />
+(1773-1827)</h2>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320">[Pg&nbsp;320]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>&ldquo;If you would be known never to have done anything, never
+do it.&rdquo;&mdash;<span class="smcap">Emerson.</span></p>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321">[Pg&nbsp;321]</a></span></p>
+
+<p class="center padtop">ROBERT SURCOUF<br />
+THE &ldquo;SEA HOUND&rdquo; FROM ST. MALO<br />
+(1773-1827)</p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0"><i>Parlez-vous Fran&ccedil;ais?</i> Yes, Monsieur,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I can speak like a native,&mdash;sure.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then, take off your cap to the lilies of France,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Throw it up high, and hasten the dance.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For &ldquo;Bobbie&rdquo; Surcouf has just come to town,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><em>Tenez!</em> He&rsquo;s worthy of wearing a crown.<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p><span class="dropcap">I</span>T was a sweltering, hot day in July and the good
+ship <i>Aurora</i> swung lazily in the torpid waters of
+the Indian Ocean. Her decks fairly sizzled in the
+sun, and her sails flopped like huge planks of wood.
+She was becalmed on a sheet of molten brass.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I can&rsquo;t stand this any longer,&rdquo; said a young fellow
+with black hair and swarthy skin. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m going overboard.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>From his voice it was easy to see he was a Frenchman.</p>
+
+<p>Hastily stripping himself, he went to the gangway,
+and standing upon the steps, took a header into the
+oily brine. He did not come up.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Sacre nom de Dieu!&rdquo; cried a sailor. &ldquo;Young
+Surcouf be no risen. Ah! He has been down ze long
+time. Ah! Let us lower ze boat and find heem.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Voil&agrave;! Voil&agrave;!&rdquo; cried another. &ldquo;He ees
+drowned!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_322" id="Page_322">[Pg&nbsp;322]</a></span>
+<em>Plunkety, plunk, splash!</em> went a boat over the side,
+and in a moment more, a half dozen sailors were
+eagerly looking into the deep, blue wash of the ocean.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;He no there. I will dive for heem,&rdquo; cried out the
+fellow who had first spoken, and, leaping from the
+boat, he disappeared from view.</p>
+
+<p>In a few moments he re-appeared, drawing the body
+of the first diver with him. It was apparently helpless.
+The prostrate sailor was lifted to the deck;
+rubbed, worked over, scrubbed,&mdash;but no signs of
+life were there.</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile, a Portuguese Lieutenant, who was
+pacing the poop, appeared to be much pleased at what
+took place.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The fellow&rsquo;s dead! The beggar&rsquo;s done for,&mdash;sure.
+Overboard with the rascal! To the waves with
+the dead &rsquo;un!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Give us a few more moments,&rdquo; cried the sailors.
+&ldquo;He will come to!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>But the Lieutenant smiled satirically.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;To the waves with the corpse! To the sharks
+with the man from St. Malo!&rdquo; cried he.</p>
+
+<p>And all of this the senseless seaman heard&mdash;for&mdash;he
+was in a cataleptic fit, where he could hear, but
+could not move. The Portuguese Lieutenant and he
+were bitter enemies.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, I tell you, Boys, the fellow&rsquo;s dead!&rdquo; again
+cried the Portuguese. &ldquo;Over with him!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>So saying, he seized the inert body with his hands;
+dragged it to the ship&rsquo;s side; and started to lift it to
+the rail.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_323" id="Page_323">[Pg&nbsp;323]</a></span>
+Conscious of all that went on around him, the paralyzed
+Surcouf realized that, unless he could make some
+sign, he had only a few seconds to live. So, with a
+tremendous effort&mdash;he made a movement of his limbs.
+It was noticed.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Voil&agrave;! Voil&agrave;!&rdquo; cried a French sailor. &ldquo;He ees
+alife. No! No! You cannot kill heem!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Running forward, he grabbed the prostrate form of
+Robert Surcouf, pulled it back upon the deck, and&mdash;as
+the Portuguese Lieutenant went off cursing&mdash;he
+rubbed the cold hands of the half-senseless man. In a
+moment the supposed corpse had opened its eyes.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ah!&rdquo; he whispered. &ldquo;I had a close call. A thousand
+thanks to all!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>In five more moments he could stand upon the deck,
+and&mdash;believe me&mdash;he did not forget the Portuguese
+Lieutenant!</p>
+
+<p>Robert Surcouf was born at St. Malo&mdash;just one
+hundred years after Du Guay-Trouin, to whom he
+was related. And like his famous relative he had been
+intended for the Church,&mdash;but he was always fighting;
+was insubordinate, and could not be made to
+study. In fact, he was what is known as a &ldquo;holy
+terror.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Finally good Mamma Surcouf sent him to the Seminary
+of St. Dinan, saying:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Now, Robert, be a good boy and study hard thy
+lessons!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>And Robert said, &ldquo;Oui, Madame!&rdquo; But he would
+not work.</p>
+
+<p>One day the master in arithmetic did not like the
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_324" id="Page_324">[Pg&nbsp;324]</a></span>
+method in which young &ldquo;Bobbie&rdquo; answered him,
+and raising a cane, he ran towards the youthful
+scholar. But Robert had learned a kind of &ldquo;Jiu-Jitsu&rdquo;
+practiced by the youths of France, and he
+tackled his irate master like an end-rush upon the
+foot-ball team, when he dives for a runner. Both fell
+to the ground with a thud. And all the other boys
+yelled &ldquo;Fine!&rdquo; in unison.</p>
+
+<p>Now was a fierce battle, but weight told, and
+&ldquo;Bobbie&rdquo; was soon underneath, with his teeth in the
+leg of his tutor. They scratched and rolled until
+&ldquo;Bobbie&rdquo; freed himself, and, running to the window,
+jumped outside&mdash;for he was on the ground floor&mdash;scaled
+the garden fence, and made off. Home was
+twenty miles away.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I must get there, somehow,&rdquo; said young &ldquo;Bobbie.&rdquo;
+&ldquo;I can never go back. I will be spanked so that I
+cannot seat myself.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>So little &ldquo;Bob&rdquo; trudged onward in the snow, for
+it was winter. It grew dark. It was bitterly cold, and
+he had no hat. At length&mdash;worn out with cold and
+hunger&mdash;he sank senseless to the roadside.</p>
+
+<p>Luck pursues those destined for greatness.</p>
+
+<p>Some fish-merchants happened that way, and, seeing
+the poor, helpless, little boy, they picked him up;
+placed him upon a tiny dog-cart; and carried him to
+St. Malo, where he had a severe attack of pneumonia.
+But his good mother nursed him through, saying:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ta donc! He will never be a scholar. Ta donc!
+Young Robbie must go to sea!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>So when &ldquo;Bobbie&rdquo; was well he was shipped aboard
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_325" id="Page_325">[Pg&nbsp;325]</a></span>
+the brig <i>Heron</i>, bound for Cadiz, Spain&mdash;and he was
+only just thirteen. But he threw up his cap crying,</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;This is just what I&rsquo;ve always wanted. Hurrah
+for the salty brine!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>At about twenty years of age we find him upon the
+good ship <i>Aurora</i> from which his dive into the Indian
+Ocean came near being his last splash. And the Portuguese
+Lieutenant did not forget.</p>
+
+<p>Upon the next visit of the cruiser <i>Aurora</i> to the
+coast of Africa an epidemic of malarial fever struck
+the crew. Among those who succumbed to the disease
+was the Portuguese Lieutenant. He was dangerously
+ill.</p>
+
+<p>The ship arrived at the island of Mauritius, and,
+Lieutenant Robert Surcouf was just going ashore,
+when he received a message which said:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Come and see me. I am very ill.&rdquo; It was from
+his enemy,&mdash;the Portuguese.</p>
+
+<p>Surcouf did not like the idea, but after thinking the
+matter over, he went. But note this,&mdash;he had a pair
+of loaded pistols in his pocket. Dead men&mdash;you know&mdash;tell
+no tales.</p>
+
+<p>As he entered the sick man&rsquo;s cabin, a servant was
+there. The Portuguese made a sign to him to retire.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I wish to speak to you with a sincere heart,&rdquo; said
+he, turning his face to young Surcouf. &ldquo;Before I pass
+from this world I want to relieve my conscience, and
+ask your forgiveness for all the evil which I have
+wished you during our voyages together.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I bear you no malice,&rdquo; said Surcouf. &ldquo;Let by-gones
+be by-gones.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_326" id="Page_326">[Pg&nbsp;326]</a></span>
+As he spoke a spasm seemed to contort the body of
+the dying man. One arm stretched out towards a
+pillow nearby, and Robert had a sudden, but excellent
+thought. Stepping forward, he seized the hand of his
+old enemy, lifted the pillow, and, then started back
+with an exclamation of astonishment.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ye Gods!&rdquo; cried he. &ldquo;You would murder me!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>There, before him, were two cocked and loaded
+pistols.</p>
+
+<p>Leaping forward he grabbed the weapons, pointing
+one at the forehead of the rascally sailor.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You miserable beast!&rdquo; cried he. &ldquo;I can now
+shoot you like a dog, or squash you like an insect;
+but I despise you too much. I will leave you to die
+like a coward.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And,&rdquo; says a historian, &ldquo;this is what the wretched
+man did,&mdash;blaspheming in despairing rage.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>In October, 1794, Lieutenant Surcouf saw his first
+big battle, for, the English being at war with the
+French, two British men-of-war hovered off the island
+of Mauritius, blockading the port of St. Thomas.
+They were the <i>Centurion</i> of fifty-four guns, and the
+<i>Diomede</i>, also of fifty-four cannon, but with fewer
+tars. The French had four ships of war: the <i>Prudente</i>,
+forty guns; the <i>Cybele</i>, forty-four guns; the
+<i>Jean Bart</i>, twenty guns; and the <i>Courier</i>, fourteen
+guns. Surcouf was junior Lieutenant aboard the
+<i>Cybele</i>.</p>
+
+<p>It was a beautiful, clear day, as the French vessels
+ploughed out to battle; their sails aquiver with the
+soft breeze; their pennons fluttering; guns flashing;
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_327" id="Page_327">[Pg&nbsp;327]</a></span>
+and eager sailors crowding to the rails with cutlasses
+newly sharpened and pistols in their sashes.</p>
+
+<p><em>Boom!</em></p>
+
+<p>The first gun spoke. The first shell spun across the
+bow of the British bull-dog <i>Diomede</i>, and the battle
+was on.</p>
+
+<p>Have you ever seen a school of pollock chasing a
+school of smaller fry? Have you ever seen them
+jump and splash, and thud upon the surface of the
+water?</p>
+
+<p>Well&mdash;that is the way that the shells looked and
+sounded&mdash;as they plumped and slushed into the surface
+of the southern sea; and every now and then there
+was a <em>punk</em>, and a <em>crash</em>, and a <em>chug</em>, as a big, iron ball
+bit into the side of a man-of-war.</p>
+
+<p>Around and around sailed the sparring assailants,
+each looking for a chance to board. <em>Crash! Roar!
+Crash!</em> growled the broadsides. Shrill screams
+sounded from the wounded; the harsh voices of the
+officers echoed above the din of the conflict; and, the
+whining bugle squealed ominously between the roaring
+crush of grape and chain-shot.</p>
+
+<p>But the French got nearer and nearer. Great gaps
+showed in the bulwarks of the <i>Diomede</i>; one mast
+was tottering. Beaten and outnumbered she stood out
+to sea, her sailors crowding into the rigging like
+monkeys, and spreading every stitch of white canvas.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;She runs! Egad, she runs!&rdquo; cried the Commander
+of the other British vessel. &ldquo;Faith, I cannot
+stand off four Frenchmen alone. I must after her
+to save my scalp.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_328" id="Page_328">[Pg&nbsp;328]</a></span>
+So&mdash;putting his helm hard over&mdash;he threw his
+vessel before the wind, and she spun off, pursued by
+bouncing shells and shrieking grapnel.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Voil&agrave;!&rdquo; cried the French. &ldquo;Ze great battaile,
+eet belongs to us!&rdquo; But there were many dead and
+wounded upon the decks of the proud French warships.</p>
+
+<p>Soon after this smart, little affair the soldiers and
+sailors who had been in this fight were discharged,&mdash;and&mdash;looking
+about for employment, young Robert
+took the first position that presented itself: the command
+of the brig <i>Creole</i>,&mdash;engaged in the slave trade.
+He made several successful voyages, but orders were
+issued to&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;Arrest the Slave Hunter and all his crew,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When they arrive at the Mauritius.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p>One of those little birds which sometimes carry
+needed information, both on sea and land, whispered
+this ill news to the gallant, young sea-dog. So he
+steered for the isle of Bourbon, and there landed his
+human freight in a small bay. At daybreak he lay at
+anchor in the Harbor of St. Paul in that self-same
+island.</p>
+
+<p>About eight in the morning a boat was seen approaching,
+and to the hail,&mdash;&ldquo;Who goes there?&rdquo;
+came the reply&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Public Health Committee from St. Denis. We
+wish to come on board and to inspect your ship.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Surcouf was much annoyed.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_329" id="Page_329">[Pg&nbsp;329]</a></span>
+&ldquo;You can climb aboard,&rdquo; said he, stifling an exclamation
+of disgust. &ldquo;I am at your service.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>In a few moments the commissioners were upon the
+deck, and, in a few moments more, they had discovered
+that the ship was a slaver.</p>
+
+<p>Turning to the youthful captain, one of the committee
+said:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You, sir, are engaged in illegal traffic. You must
+suffer for this, and must come with us at once to the
+city to answer an indictment drawn up against you.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Surcouf smiled benignly.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I am at your service,&rdquo; said he, with a polite bow.
+&ldquo;But do not go&mdash;I pray thee&mdash;until you have given
+me the great pleasure of partaking of the breakfast
+which my cook has hastily prepared.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The Committee-men smiled.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You are very kind,&rdquo; said one. &ldquo;We accept with
+pleasure.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The hasty efforts of the cook proved to be most
+attractive. And, as the Commissioners smacked their
+lips over the good Madeira wine, the mate of the <i>Creole</i>
+dismissed the boat which had brought the stolid Commissioners
+to the side.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The tender of our brig will take your people
+ashore,&rdquo; said he to the coxswain.</p>
+
+<p>No sooner had this tender neared the shore, than the
+cable of the <i>Creole</i> was slipped; she left her anchorage;
+and quickly drew out to sea in a fresh sou&rsquo;westerly
+breeze.</p>
+
+<p>The unaccustomed rallying soon warned the Commissioners
+that the vessel was no longer at anchor,
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_330" id="Page_330">[Pg&nbsp;330]</a></span>
+and, rushing to the deck, they saw&mdash;with dismay&mdash;that
+a full half mile of foam-flecked ocean lay between
+them and the island.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ye Gods!&rdquo; cried one, turning to Surcouf.
+&ldquo;What mean you by this, sir?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The crafty Captain was smiling like the Cheshire
+cat.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You are now in my power,&rdquo; said he&mdash;very
+slowly and deliberately. &ldquo;I am going to take you
+to the coast of Africa among your friends&mdash;the
+negroes. You seem to prefer them to the whites, so
+why not, pray? Meanwhile,&mdash;my kind sirs,&mdash;come
+below and take my orders.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The Commissioners were flabbergasted.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Pirate!&rdquo; cried one.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Thief!&rdquo; cried another.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Scamp!&rdquo; shouted the third.</p>
+
+<p>But they went below,&mdash;mumbling many an imprecation
+upon the head of the crafty Robert Surcouf.</p>
+
+<p>That night the wind freshened, the waves rose, and
+the good ship <i>Creole</i> pitched and tossed upon them,
+like a leaf. The Committee-men were very ill, for they
+were landsmen, and Surcouf&rsquo;s smile expanded.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Take us ashore! Take us ashore!&rdquo; cried one.
+&ldquo;We <em>must</em> get upon land.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Surcouf even laughed. Everything was as he
+wished.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I will land you upon one condition only,&rdquo; said he.
+&ldquo;Destroy the indictment against me and my ship.
+Write a document to the effect that you have found
+no traces of slaves upon my staunch craft. Say that
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_331" id="Page_331">[Pg&nbsp;331]</a></span>
+my boat was driven from her anchor by a tidal wave&mdash;and
+you can put your feet upon solid ground.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The three Commissioners scowled, but he had them.
+Besides they were sea-sick.</p>
+
+<p>In an hour&rsquo;s time, the desired paper had been drawn
+up. The <i>Creole</i> was headed for the Mauritius,&mdash;and,
+in eight days, the sad but wiser Commissioners were
+brooding over the smartness of Robert Surcouf when
+seated in their own snug little homes. &ldquo;He is a rascal,&rdquo;
+said one. &ldquo;He&rsquo;s a slick and wily cur.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>So much reputation came to the young mariner&mdash;at
+this exploit&mdash;that he was soon offered the command
+of the <i>Emilie</i>: a privateer of one hundred and
+eighty tons and four guns. He accepted with glee,
+but when about to go to sea, the Governor refused
+him Letters of Marque.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What shall I do?&rdquo; asked the crest-fallen Robert,
+approaching the owners of the trim and able
+craft.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Sail for the Seychelles (Islands off the east coast
+of Africa) for a cargo of turtles,&rdquo; said they. &ldquo;If you
+fail to find these; fill up with corn, cotton and fruit.
+Fight shy of all English cruisers, and battle if you
+have to.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Surcouf bowed.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I am not a regular privateer,&rdquo; he answered. &ldquo;For
+I have no Letters of Marque. But I can defend myself
+if fired upon, and am an armed vessel in war-time. I
+may yet see some fighting.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He was not to be disappointed.</p>
+
+<p>While at anchor at the Seychelles, two large and fat
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_332" id="Page_332">[Pg&nbsp;332]</a></span>
+English men-of-war appeared in the offing. Surcouf
+had to run for it.</p>
+
+<p>Steering in among the many little islets, which here
+abound, he navigated the dangerous channels and got
+safely off, his men crying,</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Voil&agrave;! Here is a genius. We did well to ship
+with such a master!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>But the gallant Surcouf soon turned from privateer
+to pirate.</p>
+
+<p>South of the Bay of Bengal, a cyclone struck the
+<i>Emilie</i> and she was steered for Rangoon, where&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;The flying fishes play,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An&rsquo; the dawn comes up like thunder,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Outer China across the Bay.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p>And here a British vessel steered for her: white-winged,
+saucy, vindictive-looking.</p>
+
+<p>She came on valiantly, and, when within a hundred
+yards, pumped a shot across the bow of the
+drowsing <i>Emilie</i>. It meant &ldquo;Show your colors.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Hoisting the red, white and blue of France, Surcouf
+replied with three scorching shots. One struck
+the Britisher amid-ships, and pumped a hole in her
+black boarding.</p>
+
+<p>Like a timid girl, the Englishman veered off,
+hoisted her topsail, and tried to get away. She saw
+that she had caught a tartar.</p>
+
+<p>The blood was up of the &ldquo;Man from St. Malo.&rdquo; &ldquo;I
+consider the shot across my bows as an attack,&rdquo; said
+he, and he slapped on every stitch of canvas, so that
+the <i>Emilie</i> was soon abreast of the Britisher. <em>Boom!</em>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_333" id="Page_333">[Pg&nbsp;333]</a></span>
+A broadside roared into her and she struck her colors.
+Bold Robert Surcouf had passed the Rubicon,&mdash;he
+had seen the English flag lowered to him, for the first
+time; and his heart swelled with patriotic pride, in
+spite of the fact that this was an act of piracy, for
+which he could be hanged to the yard-arm.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;On! On!&rdquo; cried Surcouf. &ldquo;More captures!
+More prizes!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Three days later three vessels carrying rice fell into
+his hands,&mdash;one of which,&mdash;a pilot-brig&mdash;was appropriated
+in place of the <i>Emilie</i>, which had a foul,
+barnacled bottom and had lost her speed. The <i>Diana</i>,
+another rice-carrier&mdash;was also captured&mdash;and Robert
+Surcouf headed for the Mauritius: pleased and
+happy.</p>
+
+<p>A few days later, as the vessels pottered along off
+the river Hooghly, the cry came:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;A large sail standing into Balasore Roads!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>In a moment Surcouf had clapped his glass to his
+keen and searching eye.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;An East Indiaman,&rdquo; said he. &ldquo;And rich, I&rsquo;ll
+warrant. Ready about and make after her. She&rsquo;s too
+strong for us,&mdash;that I see&mdash;but we may outwit
+her.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The vessel, in fact, was the <i>Triton</i>, with six-and-twenty
+guns and a strong crew. Surcouf had but
+nineteen men aboard, including the surgeon and himself,
+and a few Lascars,&mdash;natives. The odds were
+heavily against him, but his nerve was as adamant.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;My own boat has been a pilot-brig. Up with the
+pilot flag!&rdquo; he cried.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_334" id="Page_334">[Pg&nbsp;334]</a></span>
+As the little piece of bunting fluttered in the breeze,
+the <i>Triton</i> hove to, and waited for him, as unsuspecting
+as could be. Surcouf chuckled.</p>
+
+<p>Nearer and nearer came his own vessel to the lolling
+Indiaman, and, as she rolled within hailing distance,
+the bold French sea-dog saw &ldquo;<i>beaucoup de monde</i>&rdquo;&mdash;a
+great crowd of people&mdash;upon the deck of the Englishman.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;My lads!&rdquo; cried he, turning to his crew. &ldquo;This
+<i>Triton</i> is very strong. We are only nineteen. Shall
+we try to take her by surprise and thus acquire both
+gain and glory? Or, do you prefer to rot in a beastly
+English prison-ship?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Death or victory!&rdquo; cried the Frenchmen.</p>
+
+<p>Surcouf smiled.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;This ship shall either be our tomb, or the cradle
+of our glory,&rdquo; said he. &ldquo;It is well!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The crew and passengers of the <i>Triton</i> saw only a
+pilot-brig approaching, as these did habitually (to
+within twenty or thirty feet) in order to transfer the
+pilot. Suddenly a few uttered exclamations of surprise
+and dismay. The French colors rose to the mast of
+the sorrowful-looking pilot-boat, and with a flash and
+a roar, a heavy dose of canister and grape ploughed
+into the unsuspecting persons upon the deck of the
+Indiaman. Many sought shelter from the hail of
+iron.</p>
+
+<p>A moment more, and the brig was alongside. A
+crunching: a splitting of timber as the privateer struck
+and ground into the bulwarks of the <i>Triton</i>, and, with
+a wild yell&mdash;Surcouf leaped upon the deck of his
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_335" id="Page_335">[Pg&nbsp;335]</a></span>
+adversary&mdash;followed by his eighteen men, with cutlass,
+dirks and pistols.</p>
+
+<p>There was but little resistance. The Captain of
+the <i>Triton</i> seized a sword and made a vain attempt to
+stem the onslaught of the boarders, but he was immediately
+cut down. The rest were driven below, and
+the hatches clapped tight above them. In five minutes
+the affair was over, with five killed and six wounded
+upon the side of the English: one killed and one
+wounded among the French. Surcouf had made a
+master stroke. The <i>Triton</i> was his own.</p>
+
+<p>The many prisoners were placed on board the <i>Diana</i>
+and allowed to make their way to Calcutta, but the
+<i>Triton</i> was triumphantly steered to the Mauritius,
+where Surcouf received a tremendous ovation.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Hurrah for Robert Surcouf: the sea-hound from
+St. Malo!&rdquo; shrieked the townsfolk.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Your captures are all condemned,&rdquo; said the Governor
+of the island, a few days after his triumphant
+arrival. &ldquo;For you sailed and fought not under a
+Letter of Marque, so you are a pirate and not a privateer.
+Those who go a-pirating must pay the piper.
+Your prizes belong to the Government of France, and
+its representative. I hereby seize them.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Surcouf was nonplussed.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We will take this matter to France, itself,&rdquo; cried
+he. &ldquo;And we shall see whether or no all my exertions
+shall go for nought.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>So the case was referred to the French courts, where
+Robert appeared in person to plead his cause. And
+the verdict was:</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_336" id="Page_336">[Pg&nbsp;336]</a></span>
+&ldquo;The captures of Captain Robert Surcouf of St.
+Malo are all declared &lsquo;good prize&rsquo; and belong to him
+and the owners of his vessel.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>So the wild man from St. Malo was very happy, and
+he and his owners pocketed a good, round sum of
+money. But he really was a pirate and not a privateer.
+<em>Tenez!</em> He had the money, at any rate, so why should
+he care?</p>
+
+<p>The remaining days of Robert&rsquo;s life were full of
+battle, and, just a little love, for he returned to his
+native town during the progress of the law-suit&mdash;in
+order to see his family and his friends, and there
+became engaged to Mlle. Marie Blaize, who was as
+good as she was pretty. But the sea sang a song which
+ran:</p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;For men must work and women must weep,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The home of a hero is on the deep.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p>which the stout sea-dog could not resist. So he left
+the charming demoiselle without being married, and
+&rsquo;tis said that she wept bitterly.</p>
+
+<p>Now came his greatest exploit.</p>
+
+<p>On October 7th, 1800, the hardy mariner&mdash;in command
+of the <i>Confiance</i>; a new vessel with one hundred
+and thirty souls aboard&mdash;was cruising off the Indian
+coast. He had a Letter of Marque this time, so all
+would go well with him if he took a prize. The opportunity
+soon came. A sail was sighted early that
+day, and Surcouf scanned her carefully through his
+glass.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 383px;">
+<a name="surcouf_scanned_her" id="surcouf_scanned_her"></a>
+<img src="images/fpas20.jpg" width="383" height="600" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">&ldquo;SURCOUF SCANNED HER CAREFULLY THROUGH HIS GLASS.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;She&rsquo;s a rich prize,&rdquo; said he. &ldquo;An Indiaman. All
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_337" id="Page_337">[Pg&nbsp;337]</a></span>
+hands on deck. Make sail! Drinks all round for the
+men! Clear for action!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He spoke this to himself, for he was aloft, and,
+climbing to the deck, ordered everybody aft to listen
+to a speech. When they had collected there, he said,
+with feeling:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I suppose each one of you is more than equal to
+one Englishman? Very good&mdash;be armed and ready
+for boarding&mdash;and, as it is going to be hot work, I&rsquo;ll
+give you one hour for pillage. You can fight, and,
+behind me, you should be invincible! Strike, and strike
+hard; and you will be rich.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The <i>Kent</i> had four hundred and thirty-seven souls
+aboard, says an old chronicler, for she had picked up
+a great part of the crew of the <i>Queen</i>: an East Indiaman
+which had been destroyed off the coast of Brazil.
+Her Captain&rsquo;s name was Rivington and he was a fellow
+of heroic courage.</p>
+
+<p>As the <i>Confiance</i> drew near, the crew of the Englishman
+gave her a fair broadside and pumped gun after
+gun into her hull. But the Frenchman held her fire,
+and bore in close, in order to grapple. Hoarse shouts
+sounded above the roar of the guns and the splitting
+of timber, as the two war-dogs closed for action. The
+crew of the <i>Kent</i> were poorly armed and undisciplined:
+they had never fought together. With Surcouf it was
+far different. His sailors were veterans&mdash;they had
+boarded many a merchantman and privateer before&mdash;and,
+they were well used to this gallant pastime. Besides,
+each had a boarding-axe, a cutlass,&mdash;pistol and
+a dagger&mdash;to say nothing of a blunderbuss loaded
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_338" id="Page_338">[Pg&nbsp;338]</a></span>
+with six bullets, pikes fifteen feet long, and enormous
+clubs&mdash;all of this with &ldquo;drinks all round&rdquo; and the
+promise of pillage. No wonder they could fight!</p>
+
+<p>With a wild, ear-splitting whoop the wild men of
+the French privateer finally leaped over the rail&mdash;upon
+the deck of the Englishman&mdash;and there was fierce
+struggling for possession of her. At the head of his
+men, Rivington fought like a true Briton,&mdash;cutlass in
+hand, teeth clinched, eyes to the front. He was magnificent.</p>
+
+<p>But what could one man do against many?</p>
+
+<p>Back, back, the French forced the valiant lion, while
+his crew fell all about in tiers, and, at length, they
+drove him to the poop. He was bleeding from many
+a wound. He was fast sinking.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t give up the ship!&rdquo; he cried, casting his eye
+aloft at the red ensign of his country.</p>
+
+<p>Then he fell upon his face, and the maddened followers
+of Surcouf swept over the decking like followers
+of Attila, the terrible Hun.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Spare the women!&rdquo; shouted the French Captain
+above the din&mdash;and roar of battle. &ldquo;Pillage; but spare
+the women!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>It was well that he had spoken, for his cut-throats
+were wild with the heat of battle. In twenty minutes
+the <i>Kent</i> was helpless; her crew were prisoners; and
+the saucy pennon of France fluttered where once had
+waved the proud ensign of Great Britain.</p>
+
+<p>Surcouf was happy. Landing the English prisoners
+in an Arab vessel, he arrived at the Mauritius with his
+prize in November, and soon took his doughty
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_339" id="Page_339">[Pg&nbsp;339]</a></span>
+<i>Confiance</i> to the low shores of France, catching a Portuguese
+merchant en route, and anchoring at La
+Rochelle, on April 13th, 1801.</p>
+
+<p>Rich, famous, respected; he now married the good
+Mlle. Marie Blaize, and became the owner of privateers
+and a respected citizen of the Fatherland. Fortune
+had favored this brave fellow.</p>
+
+<p>As a prosperous ship-owner and ship-builder of his
+native village&mdash;&ldquo;the Sea-Hound of St. Malo&rdquo;&mdash;closed
+his adventurous life in the year 1827. And
+when he quietly passed away, the good housewives
+used to mutter:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Look you! Here was a man who fought the English
+as well as they themselves could fight. He was
+a true son of William the Conqueror. Look you!
+This was a King of the Ocean!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>And the gulls wheeled over the grave of the doughty
+sea-warrior, shrieking,</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;He-did-it! He-did-it! He-did-it!&rdquo;</p>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_340" id="Page_340">[Pg&nbsp;340]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>THE CRY FROM THE SHORE</h2>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Come down, ye greyhound mariners,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Unto the wasting shore!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The morning winds are up,&mdash;the Gods<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Bid me to dream no more.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Come, tell me whither I must sail,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What peril there may be,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Before I take my life in hand<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And venture out to sea!<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0"><i>We may not tell thee where to sail,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Nor what the dangers are;</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Each sailor soundeth for himself,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Each hath a separate star;</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Each sailor soundeth for himself,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>And on the awful sea,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>What we have learned is ours alone;</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>We may not tell it thee.</i><br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Come back, O ghostly mariners,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ye who have gone before!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I dread the dark, tempestuous tides;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I dread the farthest shore.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Tell me the secret of the waves;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Say what my fate shall be,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Quick! for the mighty winds are up,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And will not wait for me.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0"><i>Hail and farewell, O voyager!</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Thyself must read the waves;</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>What we have learned of sun and storm</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Lies with us in our graves;</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>What we have learned of sun and storm</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Is ours alone to know.</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>The winds are blowing out to sea,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Take up thy life and go!</i><br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<a name="Page_341" id="Page_341"><!-- unnumbered title page --></a>
+<p><span class='pagenum'></span></p>
+
+<h2>LAFITTE<br />
+<br />
+PRIVATEER, PIRATE, AND TERROR OF
+THE GULF OF MEXICO<br />
+<br />
+(1780-1826)</h2>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_342" id="Page_342">[Pg&nbsp;342]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;For it&rsquo;s fourteen men on a dead man&rsquo;s chest,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yo, ho, ho, and a bottle of rum.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class="author">&mdash;<span class="smcap">Stevenson.</span></p>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_343" id="Page_343">[Pg&nbsp;343]</a></span></p>
+
+<p class="center padtop">LAFITTE<br />
+PRIVATEER, PIRATE, AND TERROR OF
+THE GULF OF MEXICO<br />
+(1780-1826)</p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;He was the mildest mannered man,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That ever scuttled ship or cut a throat;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With such true breeding of a gentleman,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That you could ne&rsquo;er discern his proper thought.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Pity he loved an adventurous life&rsquo;s variety,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He was <em>so</em> great a loss to good society.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class="author">&mdash;<i>Old Ballad.</i>&mdash;1810.</p>
+
+<p><span class="dropcap">C</span>APTAIN, we can&rsquo;t live much longer unless
+we have food. We&rsquo;ve got enough to last
+us for two weeks&rsquo; time, and then&mdash;if we
+do not get fresh provisions&mdash;we&rsquo;ll have to eat the
+sails.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The fellow who spoke was a rough-looking sea-dog,
+with a yellow face&mdash;parched and wrinkled by many
+years of exposure&mdash;a square figure; a red handkerchief
+tied about his black hair; a sash about his waist
+in which was stuck a brace of evil-barrelled pistols.
+He looked grimly at the big-boned man before him.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes. You are right, as usual, Gascon. We&rsquo;ve
+got to strike a foreign sail before the week is out, and
+capture her. And I, Lafitte, must turn from privateer
+to pirate. May my good mother at St. Malo have
+mercy on my soul.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_344" id="Page_344">[Pg&nbsp;344]</a></span>
+And, so saying, he turned to pace restlessly upon the
+sloping deck of the two-hundred-ton barque which
+boiled along under a spread of bellying canvas, and
+was guided by the keen eye of this youthful mariner.
+He came from the same little town in France which
+sheltered the good mother of Du Guay-Trouin, the
+great French &ldquo;blue.&rdquo; His name was Jean Lafitte.</p>
+
+<p>This sea-rover had been born in 1781, and had taken
+to the ocean at the age of thirteen, when most boys are
+going to boarding-school. After several voyages in
+Europe, and to the coast of Africa, he was appointed
+mate of a French East Indiaman, bound to Madras in
+India. But things did not go any too well with the
+sturdy ship; a heavy gale struck her off the Cape of
+Good Hope; she sprung her mainmast, and&mdash;flopping
+along like a huge sea-turtle&mdash;staggered into the
+port of St. Thomas in the island of Mauritius, off the
+east coast of Africa.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Here,&rdquo; said young Lafitte to his Captain, &ldquo;is
+where I leave you, for you are a bully, a braggart, and
+a knave.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>And, so saying, he cut for shore in the jolly-boat,
+but&mdash;if the truth must be known&mdash;Lafitte and the
+Captain were too much alike to get on together. They
+both wished to &ldquo;be boss.&rdquo; Like magnets do not attract,
+but repel.</p>
+
+<p>Luck was with the young deserter. Several privateers
+were being fitted out at the safe port of St.
+Thomas and he was appointed Captain of one of them.
+Letters of Marque were granted by the Governor of
+the Mauritius.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_345" id="Page_345">[Pg&nbsp;345]</a></span>
+&ldquo;Ah ha!&rdquo; cried the youthful adventurer. &ldquo;Now
+I can run things to suit myself. And I&rsquo;ll grow
+rich.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>This he speedily succeeded in doing, for, in the
+course of his cruise, he robbed several vessels which
+came in his path, and, stopping at the Seychelles
+(Islands off the eastern coast of Africa), took on a
+load of slaves for the port of St. Thomas. Thus he
+had descended&mdash;not only to piracy&mdash;but also to
+slave catching; the lowest depths to which a seaman
+could come down.</p>
+
+<p>When four days out from the curiously named
+islands, a cry went up from the watch,</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Sail ho! Off the port bow! A British frigate, by
+much that&rsquo;s good, and she&rsquo;s after us with all speed!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>To which bold Lafitte answered, &ldquo;Then, we must
+run for it!&rdquo; But he hoisted every bit of canvas which
+he had about and headed for the Bay of Bengal.
+&ldquo;And,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;if she does not catch us and we get
+away, we&rsquo;ll take an English merchantman and burn
+her.&rdquo; Then he laughed satirically.</p>
+
+<p>The British frigate plodded along after the lighter
+vessel of Lafitte&rsquo;s until the Equator was reached, and
+then she disappeared,&mdash;disgruntled at not being able
+to catch the saucy tartar. But the privateersman
+headed for the blue Bay of Bengal; there fell in with
+an English armed schooner with a numerous crew;
+and&mdash;although he only had two guns and twenty-six
+men aboard his own vessel&mdash;he tackled the sailors
+from the chilly isle like a terrier shaking a rat. There
+was a stiff little fight upon the shimmering waves of
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_346" id="Page_346">[Pg&nbsp;346]</a></span>
+the Indian Ocean. When night descended the Britisher
+had struck and nineteen blood-stained ruffians
+from the privateer took possession of the battered hulk,
+singing a song which ran:</p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;For it&rsquo;s fourteen men on a dead man&rsquo;s chest,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yo-Ho-Ho and a bottle of rum.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p>Lafitte was now feeling better; his men had been
+fed; he had good plunder; and he possessed two
+staunch, little craft.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Let&rsquo;s bear away for India, my Hearties,&rdquo; cried he,
+&ldquo;and we&rsquo;ll hit another Englishman and take her.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>What he had said soon came to pass, for, when off
+the hazy, low-lying coast of Bengal, a rakish East
+Indiaman came lolling by, armed with twenty-six
+twelve-pounders and manned with one hundred and
+fifty men. A bright boarding upon her stern-posts
+flaunted the truly Eastern name: the <i>Pagoda</i>.</p>
+
+<p>The dull-witted Britishers had no suspicions of the
+weak, Puritan-looking, little two-&rsquo;undred tonner of
+Lafitte&rsquo;s, as she glided in close; luffed; and bobbed
+about, as a voice came:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Sa-a-y! Want a pilot fer the Ganges?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>There was no reply for a while. Then a voice
+shrilled back,</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Come up on th&rsquo; port quarter. That&rsquo;s just what
+we&rsquo;ve been lookin&rsquo; for.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The fat <i>Pagoda</i> ploughed listlessly onward, as the
+unsuspicious-looking pilot plodded up on the port side;
+in fact, most of the crew were dozing comfortably
+under awnings on the deck, when a shot rang out.
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_347" id="Page_347">[Pg&nbsp;347]</a></span>
+Another and another followed, and, with a wild, ear-splitting
+whoop, the followers of Lafitte clambered
+across the rail; dirks in their mouths; pistols in their
+right hands, and cutlasses in their left.</p>
+
+<p>Now was a short and bloodless fight. Taken completely
+by surprise, the Englishmen threw up their
+hands and gave in only too willingly. With smiles of
+satisfaction upon their faces, the seamen of the bad
+man from St. Malo soon hauled two kegs of spirits
+upon the decks, and held high revel upon the clean
+boarding of the rich and valuable prize. The <i>Pagoda</i>
+was re-christened <i>The Pride of St. Malo</i>, and soon
+went off privateering upon her own hook; while Lafitte
+headed back for St. Thomas: well-fed&mdash;even
+sleek with good living&mdash;and loaded down with the
+treasure which he had taken. &ldquo;Ah-ha!&rdquo; cried the
+black-haired navigator. &ldquo;I am going to be King of
+the Indian waters.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Now came the most bloody and successful of his
+battles upon the broad highway of the gleaming,
+southern ocean.</p>
+
+<p>Taking command of the <i>La Confidence</i> of twenty-six
+guns and two hundred and fifty men, whom he found
+at the port of St. Thomas, he again headed for the
+coast of British India; keen in the expectation of
+striking a valuable prize. And his expectations were
+well fulfilled.</p>
+
+<p>In October, 1807, the welcome cry of &ldquo;Sail Ho!&rdquo;
+sounded from the forward watch, when off the Sand
+Heads, and there upon the starboard bow was a spot
+of white, which proved to be a Queen&rsquo;s East Indiaman,
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_348" id="Page_348">[Pg&nbsp;348]</a></span>
+with a crew of near four hundred. She carried
+forty guns.</p>
+
+<p>There were double the number of cannon, there
+were double the number of men, but Lafitte cried out:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I came out to fight and I&rsquo;m going to do it, comrades!
+You see before you a vessel which is stronger
+than our own, but, with courage and nerve, we can
+beat her. I will run our own ship close to the enemy.
+You must lie down behind the protecting sides of our
+vessel until we touch the stranger. Then&mdash;when I
+give the signal to board&mdash;let each man seize a cutlass,
+a dirk, and two pistols, and strike down all that
+oppose him. We <em>must</em> and <em>can</em> win!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>These stirring words were greeted by a wild and
+hilarious cheer.</p>
+
+<p>Now, running upon the port tack, the <i>La Confidence</i>
+bore down upon the Britisher with the water boiling
+under her bows; while the stranger luffed, and prepared
+for action. Shrill cries sounded from her huge
+carcass as her guns were loaded and trained upon the
+on-coming foe, while her masts began to swarm with
+sharpshooters eager to pick off the ravenous sea-dogs
+from the Mauritius.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly a terrific roar sounded above the rattle
+of ropes and creak of hawsers&mdash;and a broadside cut
+into the <i>La Confidence</i> with keen accuracy.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Lie flat upon the deck,&rdquo; cried Lafitte, &ldquo;and dodge
+the iron boys if you can see &rsquo;em.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>His men obeyed, and, as the missiles pounded into
+the broad sides of their ship, the steersman ran her
+afoul of the Queen&rsquo;s East Indiaman. When he did
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_349" id="Page_349">[Pg&nbsp;349]</a></span>
+so, many sailors swarmed into the rigging, and from
+the yards and tops threw bombs and grenades into the
+forecastle of the enemy, so that death and terror made
+the Britishers abandon the portion of their vessel near
+the mizzen-mast.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Forty of the crew will now board,&rdquo; cried Lafitte.
+&ldquo;And let every mother&rsquo;s son strike home!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>With pistols in their hands and daggers held between
+their teeth, the wild sea-rovers rollicked across
+the gunwales like a swarm of rats. Dancing up the
+deck of the Britisher they beat back all who opposed
+them, driving them below into the steerage. Shots
+rang out like spitting cats; dirks gleamed; and cutlasses
+did awful execution. But the Captain of the
+Indiaman was rallying his men about him on the poop,
+and, with a wild cheer, these precipitated themselves
+upon the victorious privateers.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Board! Board!&rdquo; cried Lafitte, at this propitious
+moment, and, cutlass in hand, he leaped from his own
+vessel upon the deck of the East Indiaman. His crew
+followed with a yelp of defiant hatred, and beat the
+Captain&rsquo;s party back again upon the poop, where they
+stood stolidly, cursing at the rough sea-riders from
+St. Thomas.</p>
+
+<p>But Lafitte was a general not to be outdone by such
+a show of force. He ordered a gun to be loaded with
+grape-shot; had it pointed towards the place where
+the crowd was assembled; and cried&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;If you don&rsquo;t give in now, I&rsquo;ll exterminate all of
+you at one discharge of my piece.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>It was the last blow. Seeing that it was useless to
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_350" id="Page_350">[Pg&nbsp;350]</a></span>
+continue the unequal struggle, the British Captain
+held up his long cutlass, to which was bound a white
+handkerchief, and the great sea battle was over. Lafitte
+and his terrible crew had captured a boat of double
+the size of his own, and with twice his numbers.</p>
+
+<p>Says an old chronicler of the period: &ldquo;This exploit,
+hitherto unparalleled, resounded through India, and
+the name of Lafitte became the terror of English commerce
+in these latitudes. The British vessels now
+traversed the Indian Ocean under strong convoys, in
+order to beat off this harpy of South Africa.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Egad,&rdquo; said Lafitte about this time, &ldquo;these fellows
+are too smart for me. I&rsquo;ll have to look for other
+pickings. I&rsquo;m off for France.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>So he doubled the Cape of Good Hope, coasted up
+the Gulf of Guinea, and, in the Bight of Benin, took
+two valuable prizes loaded down with gold dust, ivory,
+and palm oil. With these he ran to St. Malo, where
+the people said:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Tenez! Here is a brave fellow, but would you
+care to have his reputation, Monsieur?&rdquo; And they
+shook their heads, shrugged their shoulders, and
+looked the other way when they saw him coming.</p>
+
+<p>The privateersman, slaver, and pirate was not going
+to be long with them, however, for he soon fitted out
+a brigantine, mounted twenty guns on her, and with
+one hundred and fifty men, sailed for Guadaloupe,
+among the West Indies. He took several valuable
+prizes, but, during his absence upon a cruise, the island
+was captured by the British, so he started for a more
+congenial clime. He roved about for some months,
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_351" id="Page_351">[Pg&nbsp;351]</a></span>
+to settle at last at Barrataria, near New Orleans,
+Louisiana. He was rich; he had amassed great quantities
+of booty; and he was a man of property. Lafitte,
+in fact, was a potentate.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Now,&rdquo; said the privateer and pirate, &ldquo;I will settle
+down and found a colony.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>But can a man of action keep still?</p>
+
+<p>It is true that Lafitte was not as bold and audacious
+as before, for he was now obliged to have dealings
+with merchants of the United States and the West
+Indies who frequently owed him large sums of money,
+and the cautious transactions necessary to found and
+to conduct a colony of pirates and smugglers in the
+very teeth of civilization, made the black-haired
+Frenchman cloak his real character under a veneer of
+supposed gentility. Hundreds of privateers, pirates,
+and smugglers gathered around the banner of this
+robber of the high seas.</p>
+
+<p>But what is Barrataria?</p>
+
+<p>Part of the coast of Louisiana is called by that
+name: that part lying between Bastien Bay on the
+east, and the mouth of the wide river, or bayou of
+La Fourche, on the west. Not far from the rolling,
+sun-baked Atlantic are the lakes of Barrataria, connecting
+with one another by several large bayous and a
+great number of branches. In one of these is the
+Island of Barrataria, while this sweet-sounding name
+is also given to a large basin which extends the entire
+length of the cypress swamps, from the Gulf of
+Mexico, to a point three miles above New Orleans.
+The waters from this lake slowly empty into the Gulf
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_352" id="Page_352">[Pg&nbsp;352]</a></span>
+by two passages through the Bayou Barrataria, between
+which lies an island called Grand Terre: six
+miles in length, and three in breadth, running parallel
+with the coast. To the West of this is the great pass
+of Barrataria, where is about nine to ten feet of water:
+enough to float the ordinary pirate or privateersman&rsquo;s
+vessel. Within this pass&mdash;about two miles from the
+open sea&mdash;lies the only safe harbor upon the coast,
+and this is where the cut-throats, pirates, and smugglers
+gathered under Lafitte. They called themselves
+<i>Barratarians</i>, and they were a godless crew.</p>
+
+<p>At a place called Grand Terre, the privateers would
+often make public sale of their cargoes and prizes by
+auction. And the most respectable inhabitants of the
+State were accustomed to journey there in order to
+purchase the goods which the <i>Barratarians</i> had to
+offer. They would smile, and say,</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We are going to get some of the treasure of
+Captain Kidd.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>But the Government of the United States did not
+take so kindly to the idea of a privateer and pirate
+colony within its borders. And&mdash;with malice aforethought&mdash;one
+Commodore Patterson was sent to disperse
+these marauders at Barrataria, who, confident
+of their strength and fighting ability, defiantly flaunted
+their flag in the faces of the officers of the Government.
+&ldquo;We can lick the whole earth,&rdquo; chuckled the
+piratical followers of Lafitte.</p>
+
+<p>Patterson was a good fighter. On June the eleventh
+he departed from New Orleans with seventy members
+of the 44th regiment of infantry. On the sixteenth
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_353" id="Page_353">[Pg&nbsp;353]</a></span>
+he made for the Island of Barrataria, with some six
+gun-boats, a launch mounting one twelve pound carronade;
+the <i>Sea Horse</i> (a tender carrying one six-pounder)
+and the schooner <i>Carolina</i>.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We must fight, Boys,&rdquo; cried Lafitte to his ill-assorted
+mates. &ldquo;Come, take to our schooners and
+show these officers that the followers of Lafitte can
+battle like Trojans.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>A cheer greeted these noble sentiments.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Lead on!&rdquo; yelled his cut-throats. &ldquo;Lead on and
+we&rsquo;ll sink these cocky soldiers as we&rsquo;ve done to many
+an East Indiaman!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>So, about two o&rsquo;clock in the afternoon, the privateers
+and pirates formed their vessels, ten in number
+(including their prizes) near the entrance of the
+harbor.</p>
+
+<p><em>Crash!</em></p>
+
+<p>A shell from the forward gun of the leading gun-boat
+spun across the bows of Lafitte&rsquo;s flagship and
+buried itself in the gray water with a dull sob.</p>
+
+<p>Up went a huge white flag upon the foremost mast-head
+of the king pirate and these words could be
+plainly seen:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Pardon for all Deserters.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ah, ha,&rdquo; chuckled Patterson. &ldquo;The arch ruffian
+has heard that some of my men are ashore and this
+is the way he would hire them.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><em>Crash!</em></p>
+
+<p>Another shell ricochetted across the still surface
+of the harbor and sunk itself in the side of a piratical
+brig.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_354" id="Page_354">[Pg&nbsp;354]</a></span>
+&ldquo;Hello!&rdquo; cried a Lieutenant, running up to the
+United States Commander. &ldquo;They&rsquo;re giving up already.
+See! The beggars are hastening ashore in
+order to skip into the woods.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;m afraid so,&rdquo; answered the disappointed Commodore.
+&ldquo;All my pains for nothing. The fellows
+are getting away.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Sure enough&mdash;afraid to remain and fight it out&mdash;the
+craven followers of Lafitte now turned their
+schooners to the shore&mdash;ran their bows into the sand,
+and, leaping overboard, made into the forest as fast
+as their legs could carry them. Thus&mdash;without firing
+a shot&mdash;the cowardly pirates of Barrataria &ldquo;took to
+the bush.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The enemy had mounted on their vessels, twenty
+pieces of cannon of different calibre,&rdquo; wrote Patterson,
+after this tame affair. &ldquo;And, as I have since learnt,
+they had from eight hundred to one thousand men of
+all nations and colors. When I perceived the pirates
+forming their vessels into a line of battle I felt confident,
+from their fleet and very advantageous position,
+and their number of men, that they would have fought
+me. Their not doing so I regret; for had they, I
+should have been enabled more effectually to destroy
+or make prisoners of them and their leaders; but it
+is a subject of great satisfaction to me, to have effected
+the object of my enterprise, without the loss of a man.
+On the afternoon of the 23rd, I got under way with
+my whole squadron, in all seventeen vessels, but during
+the night one escaped and the next day I arrived
+at New Orleans with my entire command.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_355" id="Page_355">[Pg&nbsp;355]</a></span>
+Thus ended the magnificent (?) attempt of the
+vainglorious Lafitte to stem the advance of the Government
+of the United States. In the parlance of the
+camp, &ldquo;He was a fust-class quitter.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>But he did not show himself to be a &ldquo;quitter&rdquo; in
+the battle of New Orleans.</p>
+
+<p>The English and Americans, in fact, were soon at
+each other&rsquo;s throats in the ungentle game of war. At
+different times the British had sought to attack the
+pirates of Barrataria, in the hope of taking their
+prizes and armed vessels. On June 23rd, 1813, while
+two of Lafitte&rsquo;s privateers were lying to off of Cat
+Island, an English sloop-of-war came to anchor at
+the entrance of the pass, and sent out two boats in the
+endeavor to capture the rakish sea-robbers. But they
+were repulsed with severe and galling loss.</p>
+
+<p>On the 2nd of September, 1814, an armed brig
+appeared on the coast, opposite the famous pass to the
+home of the rangers of the sea. She fired a gun at a
+smuggler, about to enter, and forced her to poke her
+nose into a sand-bar; she then jibed over and came
+to anchor at the entrance to the shallows.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That vessel means business, sure,&rdquo; said one of the
+pirates to Lafitte. &ldquo;She has spouted one gun, but now
+she&rsquo;s lyin&rsquo; to. Better see what&rsquo;s up.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You&rsquo;re right,&rdquo; answered the famous sea-rover.
+&ldquo;We&rsquo;ll go off in a boat and look out for what&rsquo;s going
+to happen.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>So, starting from the shore, he was soon on his way
+to the brig, from which a pinnace was lowered, in
+which could be seen two officers, one of whom had a
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_356" id="Page_356">[Pg&nbsp;356]</a></span>
+flag of truce. The two boats rapidly neared each
+other.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Where is Mr. Lafitte?&rdquo; cried one of the Britishers,
+as the pinnace neared the shore. &ldquo;I would speak with
+the Laird of Barrataria.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>But Lafitte was not anxious to make himself known.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;He&rsquo;s ashore,&rdquo; said he. &ldquo;But, if you have communications
+for him, these I can deliver.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Pray, give him these packages, my good man,&rdquo;
+spoke the English tar, handing him a bundle of letters,
+tied up in tarpaulin.</p>
+
+<p>Lafitte smiled.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I would be delighted to do so,&rdquo; he replied. &ldquo;But,
+pray come ashore and there I will return you your answer
+after I have seen the great Captain, who is camping
+about a league inland.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The Britishers readily assented, and both rowed
+towards the sandy beach, where a great number of
+pirates of Barrataria had collected.</p>
+
+<p>As soon as the boats were in shallow water, Lafitte
+made himself known to the English, saying:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Do not let my men know upon what business you
+come, for it will go ill with you. My followers know
+that war is now on between Great Britain and
+the United States, and, if they hear you are
+making overtures with me, they will wish to hang
+you.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>It was as he had said. When the Englishmen
+landed, a great cry went up amongst the privateers,
+pirates and smugglers:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Hang the spies! Kill the dirty dogs! To the yard-arm
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_357" id="Page_357">[Pg&nbsp;357]</a></span>
+with the rascally Englishmen! Send the hounds
+to New Orleans and to jail!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>But Lafitte dissuaded the multitude from their intent
+and led the officers in safety to his dwelling, where he
+opened the package, finding a proclamation addressed
+to the inhabitants of Louisiana, by Col. Edward
+Nichalls&mdash;British commander of the land forces in
+this state&mdash;requesting them to come under the sheltering
+arm of the British Government. There were also
+two letters to himself, asking him to join and fight
+with the English.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;If you will but battle with us,&rdquo; said Captain
+Lockyer&mdash;one of the British officers&mdash;&ldquo;we will
+give you command of a forty-four gun frigate, and
+will make you a Post Captain. You will also receive
+thirty thousand dollars,&mdash;payable at Pensacola.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Lafitte looked dubiously at him.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I will give answer in a few days,&rdquo; he replied, with
+courtesy.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You are a Frenchman,&rdquo; continued the British Captain.
+&ldquo;You are not in the service of the United States,
+nor likely to be. Come&mdash;man&mdash;give us a reply at
+once.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Captain Lafitte was obdurate, for&mdash;strange as it
+may seem&mdash;he wished to inform the officers of the
+State Government of this project of the English. So
+he withdrew to his own hut.</p>
+
+<p>As he did this, the pirates seized the British officers,
+dragged them to a cabin, and thrust them inside. A
+guard was stationed at the door, while cries went up
+from every quarter:</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_358" id="Page_358">[Pg&nbsp;358]</a></span>
+&ldquo;To New Orleans with the scoundrels! A yard-arm
+for the butchers! A rope&rsquo;s end for the scurvy
+tars!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Lafitte was furious when he learned of this, and,
+after haranguing the crowd, had the Britishers released.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;If you treat men under a flag of truce as prisoners,&rdquo;
+he cried, &ldquo;you break one of the first rules of
+warfare. You will get the same treatment if you,
+yourselves, are captured, and you will lose the opportunity
+of discovering what are the projects of the
+British upon Louisiana.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>His men saw the good sense of these words of
+advice, and acted accordingly.</p>
+
+<p>Early the next morning the officers were escorted
+to their pinnace with many apologies from Lafitte, who
+now wrote a letter to Captain Lockyer, which shows
+him to have been a man of considerable cultivation,
+and not a mere &ldquo;rough and tumble&rdquo; pirate&mdash;without
+education or refinement. He said:</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p class="address">&ldquo;<span class="smcap">Barrataria</span>, 4th Sept., 1814.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;<span class="smcap">To Captain Lockyer,</span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;<span class="smcap">Sir</span>:&mdash;The confusion which prevailed in our
+camp yesterday and this morning, and of which you
+have a complete knowledge, has prevented me from
+answering in a precise manner to the object of your
+mission; nor even at this moment can I give you all
+the satisfaction that you desire. However, if you could
+grant me a fortnight, I would be entirely at your disposal
+at the end of that time.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_359" id="Page_359">[Pg&nbsp;359]</a></span>
+&ldquo;This delay is indispensable to enable me to put my
+affairs in order. You may communicate with me by
+sending a boat to the Eastern point of the pass, where
+I will be found. You have inspired me with more confidence
+than the Admiral&mdash;your superior officer&mdash;could
+have done, himself. With you alone I wish to
+deal, and from you, also, I will claim in due time, the
+reward of the services which I may render you.</p>
+
+<p class="sig">&ldquo;Your very respectful servant,<br />
+&ldquo;<span class="smcap">J. Lafitte.</span>&rdquo;</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>His object in writing this letter&mdash;you see&mdash;was,
+by appearing to accede to the proposals, to give time to
+communicate the affair to the officers of the State Government
+of Louisiana and to receive from them instructions
+how to act, under circumstances so critical
+and important to his own country: that is, the country
+of his adoption.</p>
+
+<p>He, therefore, addressed the following epistle to the
+Governor of Louisiana. Do you think that you, yourself,
+could write as well as did this pirate?</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p class="address">&ldquo;<span class="smcap">Barrataria</span>, Sept. 4th, 1814.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;<span class="smcap">To Governor Claiborne:</span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;<span class="smcap">Sir</span>:&mdash;In the firm persuasion that the choice made
+of you to fill the office of first magistrate of this State,
+was dictated by the esteem of your fellow citizens, and
+was conferred on merit, I confidently address you on an
+affair on which may depend the safety of this country.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I offer to you to restore to this State several citizens,
+who perhaps, in your eyes, have lost that sacred
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_360" id="Page_360">[Pg&nbsp;360]</a></span>
+title. I offer you them, however, such as you could
+wish to find them, ready to exert their utmost efforts
+in the defence of the country.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;This point of Louisiana, which I occupy, is of great
+importance in the present crisis. I tender my services
+to defend it; and the only reward I ask is that a stop
+be put to the proscription against me and my adherents,
+by an act of oblivion, for all that has been done heretofore.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I am the stray sheep wishing to return to the fold.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;If you are thoroughly acquainted with the nature
+of my offences, I should appear to you much less guilty,
+and still worthy to discharge the duties of a good citizen.
+I have never sailed under any flag but the republic
+of Carthagena, and my vessels were perfectly regular
+in that respect.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;If I could have brought my lawful prizes into the
+ports of this State, I should not have employed illicit
+means that have caused me to be proscribed (hounded
+by the State authorities).</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I decline to say more upon this subject until I have
+your Excellency&rsquo;s answer, which I am persuaded can
+be dictated only by wisdom. Should your answer not
+be favorable to my ardent desire, I declare to you that
+I will instantly leave the country, to avoid the imputation
+of having co&ouml;perated towards an invasion on this
+point, which cannot fail to take place, and to rest secure
+in the acquittal of my conscience.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I have the honor to be,</p>
+
+<p class="sig">&ldquo;Your Excellency&rsquo;s Most Humble Servant,<br />
+&ldquo;<span class="smcap">J. Lafitte.</span>&rdquo;</p>
+</div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_361" id="Page_361">[Pg&nbsp;361]</a></span>
+Now how is that for a swashbuckling privateer?
+Anyone would be proud of such a letter and it does
+honor to the judgment of this sand-spit king, giving
+clear evidence of a strange but sincere attachment to
+the American cause. Hurrah for the Frenchman!</p>
+
+<p>This missive, in fact, made such an impression upon
+the Governor that he had an interview with Lafitte,
+who was ushered into his presence only to find General
+Andrew Jackson (Old Hickory) closeted with the chief
+executive.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;My dear sir,&rdquo; said the effusive Governor. &ldquo;Your
+praiseworthy wishes shall be laid before the council of
+the State, and I will confer with my august friend, here
+present, upon this important affair, and send you an
+answer.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Bowing low, the courteous privateersman withdrew.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Farewell,&rdquo; cried Old Hickory after his retreating
+form. &ldquo;When we meet again I trust that it will be
+in the ranks of the American Army.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>And in two days&rsquo; time appeared the following proclamation:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The Governor of Louisiana, informed that many
+individuals implicated in the offences hitherto committed
+against the United States at Barrataria, express
+a willingness at the present crisis to enroll themselves
+and march against the enemy.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;He does hereby invite them to join the standard
+of the United States, and is authorized to say, should
+their conduct in the field meet the approbation of the
+Major General, that that officer will unite with the
+Governor in a request to the President of the United
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_362" id="Page_362">[Pg&nbsp;362]</a></span>
+States, to extend to each and every individual, so
+marching and acting, a free and full pardon.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>When Lafitte saw these words, he fairly yelled with
+delight, and it is said that he jumped into the air,
+cracking his heels three times together before he struck
+the ground.</p>
+
+<p>The orders were circulated among his followers and
+most of them readily embraced the pardon which they
+held out. Thus&mdash;in a few days&mdash;many brave men
+and skillful artillerists flocked to the red-white-and-blue
+standard of the United States. And when&mdash;a
+few months afterwards&mdash;Old Hickory and his men
+were crouched behind a line of cotton bales, awaiting
+the attack of a British army (heroes, in fact, of Sargossa),
+there, upon the left flank, was the sand-spit
+King and his evil crew. Lafitte&rsquo;s eyes were sparkling
+like an electric bulb, and the language of his followers
+does not bear repetition.</p>
+
+<p>It was the morning of January eighth. The British
+were about to attack the American Army defending
+New Orleans, which&mdash;under the leadership of stout
+Andrew Jackson&mdash;now crouched behind the earthworks
+and cotton bales, some miles from the city.
+Rockets shot into the air with a sizzling snap. The
+roar of cannon shook the thin palmettos, and wild
+British cheers came from the lusty throats of the
+British veterans of Spain, as they advanced to
+the assault in close order&mdash;sixty men in front&mdash;with
+fascines and ladders for scaling the defences.
+Now a veritable storm of rockets hissed and sizzed
+into the American lines, while a light battery of artillery
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_363" id="Page_363">[Pg&nbsp;363]</a></span>
+pom-pomed and growled upon the left flank. All
+was silence in the dun-colored embankments.</p>
+
+<p>But look! Suddenly a sheet of flame burst from
+the earthworks where lay the buck-skin-clad rangers
+from Tennessee and Kentucky: men who had fought
+Indians; had cleared the forest for their rude log huts,
+and were able to hit the eye of a squirrel at one hundred
+yards. <em>Crash! Crash! Crash!</em> A flame of fire
+burst through the pall of sulphurous smoke, a storm of
+leaden missiles swept into the red coats of the advancing
+British, and down they fell in windrows, like
+wheat before the reaper. <em>Boom! Boom! Boom!</em> The
+cannon growled and spat from the cotton bales, and
+one of these&mdash;a twenty-four pounder&mdash;placed upon
+the third embrasure from the river, from the fatal
+skill and activity with which it was managed (even in
+the best of battle),&mdash;drew the admiration of both
+Americans and British. It became one of the points
+most dreaded by the advancing foe. <em>Boom! Boom!</em>
+It grumbled and roared its thunder, while Lafitte and
+his corsairs of Barrataria rammed home the iron
+charges, and&mdash;stripped to the waist&mdash;fought like
+wolves at bay.</p>
+
+<p>Two other batteries were manned by the Barratarians,
+who served their pieces with the steadiness and
+precision of veteran gunners. The enemy crept closer,
+ever closer, and a column pushed forward between the
+levee and the river so precipitously that the outposts
+were forced to retire, closely pressed by the coats of
+red. On, on, they came, and, clearing the ditch before
+the earthworks, gained the redoubt through the
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_364" id="Page_364">[Pg&nbsp;364]</a></span>
+embrasures, leaped over the parapet and quickly bayonetted
+the small force of backwoodsmen who held
+this point.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;To the rescue, men,&rdquo; cried Lafitte, at this juncture.
+&ldquo;Out and at &rsquo;em!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Cutlass in hand, the privateer called a few of his
+best followers to his side; men who had often boarded
+the decks of an East Indiaman and were well used to
+hand-to-hand engagements. With a wild cheer they
+leaped over the breastworks and rushed upon the
+enemy.</p>
+
+<p>The British were absolutely astonished at the intrepidity
+of this advance. Pistols spat, cutlasses
+swung, and one after another, the English officers fell
+before the snapping blade of the King of Barrataria, as
+they bravely cheered on their men. The practiced
+boarders struck the red-coated columns with the same
+fierceness with which they had often bounded upon the
+deck of an enemy, and cheer after cheer welled above
+the rattle of arms as the advancing guardsmen were
+beaten back. All the energies of the British were concentrated
+upon scaling the breastworks, which one
+daring officer had already mounted. But Lafitte and
+his followers, seconding a gallant band of volunteer
+riflemen, formed a phalanx which it was impossible to
+penetrate. They fought desperately.</p>
+
+<p>It was now late in the day. The field was strewn
+with the dead and dying. Still spat the unerring rifles
+of the pioneers and still crashed the unswerving volleys
+from their practiced rifles. &ldquo;We cannot take the
+works,&rdquo; cried the British. &ldquo;We must give up.&rdquo;
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_365" id="Page_365">[Pg&nbsp;365]</a></span>
+And&mdash;turning about&mdash;they beat a sad and solemn
+retreat to their vessels. The great battle of New
+Orleans was over, and Lafitte had done a Trojan&rsquo;s
+share.</p>
+
+<p>In a few days peace was declared between the United
+States and Great Britain, and General Jackson&mdash;in
+his correspondence with the Secretary of War&mdash;did
+not fail to speak in the most flattering terms of the
+conduct of the &ldquo;Corsairs of Barrataria.&rdquo; They had
+fought like tigers, and they had been sadly misjudged
+by the English, who wished to enlist them in their own
+cause. Their zeal, their courage, and their skill, were
+noticed by the whole American Army, who could no
+longer stigmatize such desperate fighters as &ldquo;criminals.&rdquo;
+Many had been sabred and wounded in defence
+of New Orleans, and many had given up their lives
+before the sluggish bayous of the Mississippi. And
+now, Mr. Lafitte, it is high time that you led a decent
+life, for are you not a hero?</p>
+
+<p>But &ldquo;murder will out,&rdquo; and once a privateer always
+a privateer, and sometimes a pirate.</p>
+
+<p>Securing some fast sailing vessels, the King of
+Barrataria sailed to Galveston Bay, in 1819, where he
+received a commission from General Long as a &ldquo;privateer.&rdquo;
+Not content with living an honest and peaceful
+life, he proceeded to do a little smuggling and
+illicit trading upon his own account, so it was not long
+before a United States cruiser was at anchor off the
+port to watch his movements. He was now Governor
+of Galveston, and considered himself to be a personage
+of great moment. Five vessels were generally cruising
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_366" id="Page_366">[Pg&nbsp;366]</a></span>
+under his orders, while three hundred men obeyed his
+word. Texas was then a Republic.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>&ldquo;Sir&rdquo;&mdash;wrote Lafitte to the Commander of the
+American cruiser off the port of Galveston&mdash;&ldquo;I am
+convinced that you are a cruiser of the navy, ordered
+here by your Government. I have, therefore, deemed
+it proper to inquire into the cause of your lying before
+this port without communicating your intention. I
+wish to inform you that the port of Galveston belongs
+to and is in the possession of the Republic of Texas,
+and was made a port of entry the 9th day of October,
+last. And, whereas the Supreme Congress of the said
+Republic have thought proper to appoint me as Governor
+of this place, in consequence of which, if you
+have any demands on said Government, you will please
+to send an officer with such demands, who will be
+treated with the greatest politeness. But, if you are
+ordered, or should attempt, to enter this port in a hostile
+manner, my oath and duty to the Government compel
+me to rebut your intentions at the expense of my
+life.</p>
+
+<p class="sig">&ldquo;Yours very respectfully,<br />
+&ldquo;<span class="smcap">J. Lafitte.</span>&rdquo;</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>But to this the American officer paid no attention.
+Instead, he attacked a band of Lafitte&rsquo;s followers, who
+had stationed themselves on an island near Barrataria
+with several cannon, swearing that they would perish
+rather than surrender to any man. As they had
+committed piracy, they were open to assault.
+Twenty were taken, tried at New Orleans, and hung,&mdash;the
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_367" id="Page_367">[Pg&nbsp;367]</a></span>
+rest escaped into the cypress swamps, where it
+was impossible to arrest them.</p>
+
+<p>When Lafitte heard of this, he said with much feeling:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;A war of extermination is to be waged against me.
+I, who have fought and bled for the United States.
+I who helped them to win the battle of New Orleans.
+My cruisers are to be swept from the sea. I must turn
+from Governor of Galveston, and privateer to pirate.
+Then&mdash;away&mdash;and let them catch me if they can.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Now comes the last phase of his career. Too bad
+that he could not have died honestly!</p>
+
+<p>Procuring a large and fast-sailing brigantine, mounting
+sixteen guns, and having selected a crew of one
+hundred and sixty men, the desperate and dangerous
+Governor of Galveston set sail upon the sparkling
+waters of the Gulf, determined to rob all nations and
+neither to give quarter nor to receive it.</p>
+
+<p>But luck was against him. A British sloop-of-war
+was cruising in the Mexican Gulf, and, hearing that
+Lafitte, himself, was at sea, kept a sharp lookout at
+the mast-head for the sails of the pirate.</p>
+
+<p>One morning as an officer was sweeping the horizon
+with his glass he discovered a long, dark-looking vessel,
+low in the water: her sails as white as snow.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Sail off the port bow,&rdquo; cried he. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s the Pirate,
+or else I&rsquo;m a landlubber.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>As the sloop-of-war could out-sail the corsair, before
+the wind, she set her studding-sails and crowded every
+inch of canvas in chase. Lafitte soon ascertained the
+character of his pursuer, and, ordering the awnings to
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_368" id="Page_368">[Pg&nbsp;368]</a></span>
+be furled, set his big square-sail and shot rapidly
+through the water. But the breeze freshened and the
+sloop-of-war rapidly overhauled the scudding brigantine.
+In an hour&rsquo;s time she was within hailing distance
+and Lafitte was in a fight for his very life.</p>
+
+<p><em>Crash!</em></p>
+
+<p>A cannon belched from the stern of the pirate and a
+ball came dangerously near the bowsprit of the Englishman.</p>
+
+<p><em>Crash! Crash!</em></p>
+
+<p>Other guns roared out their challenge and the iron
+fairly hailed upon the decks of the sloop-of-war; killing
+and wounding many of the crew. But&mdash;silently
+and surely&mdash;she kept on until within twenty yards
+of the racing outlaw.</p>
+
+<p>Now was a deafening roar. A broadside howled
+above the dancing spray&mdash;it rumbled from the port-holes
+of the Englishman&mdash;cutting the foremast of
+the pirate in two; severing the jaws of the main-gaff;
+and sending great clods of rigging to the deck. Ten
+followers of Lafitte fell prostrate, but the great Frenchman
+was uninjured.</p>
+
+<p>A crash, a rattle, a rush, and the Englishman ran
+afoul of the foe&mdash;while&mdash;with a wild cheer, her
+sailors clambered across the starboard rails; cutlasses
+in the right hand, pistols in the left, dirks between
+their teeth.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Never give in, men!&rdquo; cried the King of Barrataria.
+&ldquo;You are now with Lafitte, who, as you have
+learned, does not know how to surrender.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>But the Britishers were in far superior numbers.
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_369" id="Page_369">[Pg&nbsp;369]</a></span>
+Backwards&mdash;ever backwards&mdash;they drove the desperate
+crew of the pirate ship. Two pistol balls struck
+Lafitte in the side which knocked him to the planking;
+a grape-shot broke the bone of his right leg; he
+was desperate, dying, and fighting like a tiger. He
+groaned in the agony of despair.</p>
+
+<p>The deck was slippery with blood as the Captain of
+the boarders rushed upon the prostrate corsair to put
+him forever out of his way. While he aimed a blow
+a musket struck him in the temple, stretching him
+beside the bleeding Lafitte, who, raising himself upon
+one elbow, thrust a dagger at the throat of his assailant.</p>
+
+<p>But the tide of his existence was ebbing like a torrent;
+his brain was giddy; his aim faltered; the point
+of the weapon descended upon the right thigh of the
+bleeding Englishman. Again the reeking steel was
+upheld; again the weakened French sea-dog plunged
+a stroke at this half-fainting assailant.</p>
+
+<p>The dizziness of death spread over the sight of the
+Monarch of the Gulf of Mexico. Down came the
+dagger into the left thigh of the Captain; listlessly;
+helplessly; aimlessly; and Lafitte&mdash;the robber of St.
+Malo&mdash;fell lifeless upon the rocking deck. His spirit
+went out amidst the hoarse and hollow cheers of the
+victorious Jack-tars of the clinging sloop-of-war.</p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;The palmetto leaves are whispering, while the gentle trade-winds blow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the soothing, Southern zephyrs, are sighing soft and low,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As a silvery moonlight glistens, and the droning fire-flies glow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Comes a voice from out the Cypress,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&lsquo;Lights out! Lafitte! Heave ho!&rsquo;&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_370" id="Page_370">[Pg&nbsp;370]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>THE PIRATE&rsquo;S LAMENT</h2>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I&rsquo;ve been ploughin&rsquo; down in Devonshire,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My folks would have me stay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where the wheat grows on th&rsquo; dune side,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where th&rsquo; scamperin&rsquo; rabbits play.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But th&rsquo; smells come from th&rsquo; ocean,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An&rsquo; th&rsquo; twitterin&rsquo; swallows wheel,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As th&rsquo; little sails bob landwards,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To th&rsquo; scurryin&rsquo; sea-gulls&rsquo; squeal.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0"><i>Oh, it&rsquo;s gold, gold, gold,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>That&rsquo;s temptin&rsquo; me from here.</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>An&rsquo; it&rsquo;s rum, rum, rum,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>That makes me know no fear.</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>When th&rsquo; man-o-war is growlin&rsquo;,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>As her for&rsquo;ard swivels roar,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>As th&rsquo; decks are black with wounded,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>An&rsquo; are runnin&rsquo; red with gore.</i><br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I&rsquo;ve been goin&rsquo; to church o&rsquo; Sundays,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An&rsquo; th&rsquo; Parson sure can talk,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He&rsquo;s been pleadin&rsquo; for my soul, Sir,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In Paradise to walk.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An&rsquo; I kind o&rsquo; have th&rsquo; shivers,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Come creepin&rsquo; down my spine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When th&rsquo; choir breaks into music,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While th&rsquo; organ beats th&rsquo; time.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0"><i>But it&rsquo;s gold, gold, gold,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>That glitters in my eye,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>An&rsquo; it&rsquo;s rum, rum, rum,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>That makes me cheat an&rsquo; lie,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>When th&rsquo; slaver&rsquo;s in th&rsquo; doldrums,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Th&rsquo; fleet is closin&rsquo; round,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>An&rsquo; th&rsquo; Captain calls out, furious,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>&ldquo;Now, run th&rsquo; hound aground!&rdquo;</i><br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">No matter how I farm, Sir,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No matter how I hoe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Th&rsquo; breezes from th&rsquo; blue, Sir,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Just kind uv make me glow.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_371" id="Page_371">[Pg&nbsp;371]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">When th&rsquo; clipper ships are racin&rsquo;,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An&rsquo; their bellyin&rsquo; sails go past,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I just leave my team an&rsquo; swear, Sir,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I&rsquo;ll ship before th&rsquo; mast.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0"><i>For it&rsquo;s gold, gold, gold,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>That makes me shiver, like,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>An&rsquo; it&rsquo;s rum, rum, rum,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>That makes me cut an&rsquo; strike,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>When th&rsquo; boarders creep across th&rsquo; rail,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Their soljers all in line,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>An&rsquo; their pistols spittin&rsquo; lead, Sir,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Like er bloomin&rsquo; steam engine.</i><br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">So I&rsquo;ll kiss my plough good-bye, Sir,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I&rsquo;ll throw my scythe away,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An&rsquo; I&rsquo;m goin&rsquo; to th&rsquo; dock, Sir,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where th&rsquo; ships are side th&rsquo; quay.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shake out th&rsquo; skull an&rsquo; cross-bones,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Take out th&rsquo; signs of Marque,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An&rsquo; let&rsquo;s cut loose an&rsquo; forage,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In a rakish ten-gun barque.<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_372" id="Page_372">[Pg&nbsp;372]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>THE MEN BEHIND THE GUNS</h2>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">A cheer and salute for the Admiral, and here&rsquo;s to the Captain bold,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And never forget the Commodore&rsquo;s debt, when the deeds of might are told!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They stand to the deck through the battle&rsquo;s wreck, when the great shells roar and screech&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And never they fear; when the foe is near, to practice what they preach:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But, off with your hat, and three times three, for the war-ship&rsquo;s true-blue sons,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The men who batter the foe&mdash;my Boys&mdash;the men behind the guns.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Oh, light and merry of heart are they, when they swing into port, once more,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When, with more than enough of the &ldquo;green-backed stuff,&rdquo; they start for their leave-o&rsquo;-shore;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And you&rsquo;d think, perhaps, that these blue-bloused chaps who loll along the street,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Are a tender bit, with salt on it, for some fierce chap to eat&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Some warrior bold, with straps of gold, who dazzles and fairly stuns<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The modest worth of the sailor boys,&mdash;the lads who serve the guns.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But, say not a word, till the shot is heard, that tells of the peace-blood&rsquo;s ebb,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till the long, low roar grows more and more, from the ships of the &ldquo;Yank&rdquo; and &ldquo;Reb.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till over the deep the tempests sweep, of fire and bursting shell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the very air is a mad Despair, in the throes of a living Hell:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then, down, deep down, in the mighty ship, unseen by the mid-day suns,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You&rsquo;ll find the chaps who are giving the raps&mdash;the men behind the guns.<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class="author">&mdash;<span class="smcap">Rooney</span> (<i>Adapted</i>).</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<a name="Page_373" id="Page_373">
+<p><span class='pagenum'><!-- unnumbered title page --></a></span></p>
+
+<h2>RAPHAEL SEMMES<br />
+<br />
+DESPOILER OF AMERICAN COMMERCE<br />
+<br />
+(1809-1877)</h2>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_374" id="Page_374">[Pg&nbsp;374]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>&ldquo;Sit apart, write; let them hear or let them forbear; the
+written word abides, until, slowly and unexpectedly, and in
+widely sundered places, it has created its own church.&rdquo;&mdash;<span class="smcap">Ralph
+Waldo Emerson.</span></p>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_375" id="Page_375">[Pg&nbsp;375]</a></span></p>
+
+<p class="center padtop">RAPHAEL SEMMES<br />
+DESPOILER OF AMERICAN COMMERCE<br />
+(1809-1877)</p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;We started from Ole England fer to cripple up our foes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We started from Ole England fer to strike some rapid blows,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So we coasted to the Azores where we ran a packet down,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And then to the Bermudas, where we burned the <i>Royal Crown</i>,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then we scampered to Bahia, fer to sink the gay <i>Tycoon</i>,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And to scuttle the <i>Justina</i>, before the Harvest Moon.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We hit across the ocean to race by Cape Good Hope<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And in Madagascar channel towed <i>Johanna</i> with a rope.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Away off at Sumatra, we had lots an&rsquo; lots uv fun,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When we winged the <i>Pulo Condor</i>; but say,&mdash;we had a run,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An&rsquo; a pretty bit uv fightin&rsquo;, when we took the <i>Emma Jane</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Off th&rsquo; heated coast uv India, near th&rsquo; bendin&rsquo; sugar cane.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yes, we did some privateerin&rsquo;, as wuz privateerin&rsquo;, sure,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An&rsquo; we scuttled many a schooner, it wuz risky business pure.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But&mdash;stranger&mdash;we&rsquo;d be laughin&rsquo;, jest filled with persiflage,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If we hadn&rsquo;t had a seance with that bloomin&rsquo; <i>Kearsarge</i>.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class="author">&mdash;<i>Song of the Chief Mate of the Alabama.</i>&mdash;1864.</p>
+
+<p><span class="dropcap">I</span>T was off the east coast of South America. The
+year was 1864, and a little schooner&mdash;the <i>Justina</i>&mdash;bobbed
+along, with the flag of the United
+States Government flying jauntily from her gaff.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly there was a movement on deck. Men
+rushed hither and thither with some show of excitement.
+Glasses were brought out and raised,&mdash;smothered
+cries of excitement were mingled with
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_376" id="Page_376">[Pg&nbsp;376]</a></span>
+orders to trim sails. All eyes looked with suspicion and
+dismay at a long, graceful vessel which was seen
+approaching from the northward.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The <i>Alabama</i>!&rdquo; cried one.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, the cursed <i>Alabama</i>!&rdquo; answered another.
+&ldquo;We are lost!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>On, on came the pursuing vessel; a cloud of black
+smoke rolling from her smoke-stack; her white sails
+bellying in the fresh breeze; for she was rigged like
+a barquentine, with a lean body, single smoke-stack,
+and a polished rifle-gun winking in the sun-rays upon
+her bow. On, on, she came, and then&mdash;<em>puff! boom!</em>&mdash;a
+single shot came dancing in front of the slow-moving
+schooner.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Pull down the colors!&rdquo; shouted the Captain of
+the <i>Justina</i>. &ldquo;We&rsquo;re done for!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Down came the ensign of the United States, and
+the little schooner was luffed so that she stood still.
+The <i>Alabama</i> ranged up alongside, a boat soon
+brought a crew of boarders, and, before many moments,
+she was in the hands of Captain Raphael
+Semmes and his men.</p>
+
+<p>That evening the <i>Alabama</i> steamed southward, the
+crew of the <i>Justina</i> was on board, her rich cargo filled
+the hold, and a black curl of smoke and hissing flames
+marked where the proud, little merchantman had once
+bobbed upon the rolling water. Raphael Semmes was
+happy, for his work of destroying the commerce of the
+United States Navy had progressed far better than he
+had hoped.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 538px;">
+<a name="raphael_semmes" id="raphael_semmes"></a>
+<img src="images/fpas21.jpg" width="538" height="600" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">RAPHAEL SEMMES.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Men!&rdquo; cried he, &ldquo;The cause of the Confederate
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_377" id="Page_377">[Pg&nbsp;377]</a></span>
+States of America was never brighter upon the ocean
+than now. Give three times three for Jeff. Davis&mdash;his
+soldiers and his sailors!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>A rousing cheer rose above the waves, and the
+proud privateer bounded onward upon her career of
+destruction and death. The <i>Alabama</i> was in the zenith
+of her power.</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<p>The scene now shifts to the harbor of Cherbourg,
+upon the western coast of France. The <i>Alabama</i> lay
+there,&mdash;safely swinging at her anchor-chains within
+the break-water. She had come in to refit, for her
+bottom was much befouled by a long cruise, which
+had been successful. Built at Birkenhead, England,
+for the Confederate States Government, she set sail
+in August, 1862; and had been down the coast of
+North and South America; around the Cape of Good
+Hope to India, and back to the shores of France.
+Sixty-six vessels had fallen into her clutches, and of
+these fifty-two had been burned; ten had been released
+on bond; one had been sold, and one set free.
+Truly she had had a marvellous trip.</p>
+
+<p>As she slumbered on&mdash;like a huge sea-turtle&mdash;a
+black cloud of smoke appeared above the break-water,
+and a low-bodied United States cruiser slowly steamed
+into the harbor. She nosed about, as if looking for
+safe anchorage, and kept upon the opposite side of
+the little bay.</p>
+
+<p>Immediately all hands clambered to the side of the
+Confederate cruiser, and glasses were levelled at this
+vessel which carried the flag of opposition.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_378" id="Page_378">[Pg&nbsp;378]</a></span>
+&ldquo;She&rsquo;s stronger than we are,&rdquo; said one of the crew.</p>
+
+<p>Another grinned.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Look at her eleven-pounders,&rdquo; said he. &ldquo;I see
+her name, now. She&rsquo;s the <i>Kearsarge</i>, and about our
+tonnage, but I reckon that she carries more men.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Captain Semmes, himself, had come up from below,
+and was examining the intruder with his glass.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Boys!&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;we&rsquo;ve got to fight that ship.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>And, as he withdrew into the cabin, all seemed to
+be well pleased with this announcement.</p>
+
+<p>The <i>Kearsarge</i>, commanded by Captain John A.
+Winslow, had been lying at anchor in the Scheldt, off
+Flushing, Holland, when a gun roared from the forward
+part of the ship, warning those officers who had
+gone ashore, to come on board. Steam was raised,
+and, as soon as all were collected on deck, the Captain
+read a telegram from Mr. Dayton, the Minister to
+France from the United States. It said:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The <i>Alabama</i> has arrived at Cherbourg. Come
+at once or she will escape you!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I believe that we&rsquo;ll have an opportunity to fight
+her,&rdquo; said Captain Winslow. &ldquo;So be prepared.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>At this, all of his sailors cheered wildly.</p>
+
+<p>The <i>Kearsarge</i> was a staunch craft; she was two
+hundred and thirty-two feet over all, with thirty-three
+feet of beam, and carried seven guns; two
+eleven inch pivots, smooth bore; one thirty-pound rifle,
+and four light thirty-two pounders. Her crew numbered
+one hundred and sixty-three men. The sleeping
+<i>Alabama</i> had but one hundred and forty-nine souls
+on board, and eight guns: one sixty-eight pounder
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_379" id="Page_379">[Pg&nbsp;379]</a></span>
+pivot rifle, smooth bore; one one hundred-pounder
+pivot, and six heavy thirty-two pounders. So, you
+see, that the two antagonists were evenly matched,
+with the superior advantage of the numbers of men on
+the <i>Kearsarge</i> offset by the extra guns of her opponent.</p>
+
+<p>Most of the officers upon the <i>Kearsarge</i> were from
+the merchant service, and, of the crew, only eleven
+were of foreign birth. Most of the officers upon the
+<i>Alabama</i> had served in the navy of the United States;
+while nearly all of her crew were either English,
+Irish, or Welsh. A few of the gunners had been
+trained aboard the <i>Excellent</i>: a British training ship
+in Portsmouth Harbor. Her Captain&mdash;Raphael
+Semmes&mdash;was once an officer in the navy of the
+United States. He had served in the Mexican War,
+but had joined the Southern cause, as he was a
+Marylander. He was an able navigator and seaman.</p>
+
+<p>The <i>Kearsarge</i> cruised about the port of Cherbourg,
+poked her bows nearly into the break-water,
+and then withdrew. The French neutrality law would
+only allow a foreign vessel to remain in a harbor for
+twenty-four hours.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Will she come out?&rdquo; was the question now upon
+every lip aboard the <i>Kearsarge</i>. &ldquo;Will she come out
+and fight? Oh, just for one crack at this destroyer
+of our commerce!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>But she did not come out, and the <i>Kearsarge</i> beat
+around the English Channel in anxious suspense.</p>
+
+<p>Several days later Captain Winslow went ashore
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_380" id="Page_380">[Pg&nbsp;380]</a></span>
+and paid a visit to the United States Commercial
+Agent.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That beastly pirate will not fight,&rdquo; he thought.
+&ldquo;All she wants to do is to run away.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Imagine how his eyes shone when he was handed
+the following epistle!</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p class="address">&ldquo;C.S.S. <i>Alabama</i>, <span class="smcap">Cherbourg</span>, June 14th, 1864.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;To <span class="smcap">A. Bonfils</span>, Esqr., Cherbourg;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;<span class="smcap">Sir</span>:&mdash;I hear that you were informed by the
+United States Consul that the <i>Kearsarge</i> was to come
+to this port solely for the prisoners landed by me, and
+that she was to depart in twenty-four hours. I desire
+you to say to the U.&nbsp;S. Consul that my intention is
+to fight the <i>Kearsarge</i> as soon as I can make the
+necessary arrangements. I hope these will not detain
+me more than until to-morrow evening, or after the
+morrow morning at furthest. I beg she will not depart
+before I am ready to go out.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I have the honor to be, very respectfully,</p>
+
+<p class="sig">&ldquo;Your obedient servant,<br />
+&ldquo;<span class="smcap">R. Semmes</span>, Captain.&rdquo;</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ha! Ha!&rdquo; chuckled Winslow. &ldquo;We&rsquo;re in for it,
+now. Hurray!&rdquo; and he hastened back to his ship to
+spread the glad tidings.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;My boys!&rdquo; said he to his crew. &ldquo;It is probable
+that the two ships will engage on parallel lines, and,
+if defeated, the <i>Alabama</i> will seek for neutral waters.
+It is necessary, therefore, that we begin this action
+several miles from the break-water. The <i>Alabama</i>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_381" id="Page_381">[Pg&nbsp;381]</a></span>
+must believe that she can win, or she would not fight
+us, for, if we sink her, she cannot be replaced by the
+Confederate Government. As for ourselves, let us
+never give up, and&mdash;if we sink&mdash;let us go down with
+the flag flying!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Hear! Hear!&rdquo; cried all. &ldquo;We&rsquo;re with you,
+Captain. Never give up the ship!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Clean decks, boys!&rdquo; continued brave Winslow.
+&ldquo;Get everything ship-shape for the coming affair, for
+we&rsquo;re in for as tight a little fight as e&rsquo;er you entered
+upon.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Preparations were immediately made for battle, but
+no <i>Alabama</i> appeared.</p>
+
+<p>Thursday passed; Friday came; the <i>Kearsarge</i>
+waited in the channel with ports down; guns pivoted
+to starboard; the whole battery loaded; and shell,
+grape, and canister ready to use in any method of
+attack or defence,&mdash;but no <i>Alabama</i> appeared. A
+French pilot-boat drifted near, and the black-eyed
+skipper cried out,</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You fellers look out for ze <i>Alabama</i>. She take
+in much coal. Whew! She take much of ze captured
+stuff ashore. Whew! She scrub ze deck. Whew!
+She put ze sailors to ze business of sharpening ze cutlass
+and ze dirk. Whew! You look out for ze great
+privateer! Whew!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Captain Winslow only smiled.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Zey have ze big feast,&rdquo; continued the Frenchman.
+&ldquo;Zey dr-e-e-nk ze wine. Zey stan&rsquo; on ze chairs and
+zey say, &lsquo;We will seenk ze Yankee dog.&rsquo; Ta donc!
+Zey call you ze dog!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_382" id="Page_382">[Pg&nbsp;382]</a></span>
+And still Captain Winslow smiled. But, next day,
+his smile turned to a frown.</p>
+
+<p>It was Sunday, the nineteenth day of June. The
+weather was beautiful; the atmosphere was somewhat
+hazy; the wind was light; and there was little sea.
+At ten o&rsquo;clock the <i>Kearsarge</i> was drifting near a buoy
+about three miles eastward from the entrance of Cherbourg
+break-water. Her decks had been newly holy-stoned;
+the brass work had been cleaned; the guns
+polished, and the crew had on their Sunday clothes.
+They had been inspected, and dismissed&mdash;in order to
+attend divine service.</p>
+
+<p>At 1.20 a cry rang out:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;She comes!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The bell was tolling for prayers.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The <i>Alabama</i>! The <i>Alabama</i>! She&rsquo;s moving,
+and heading straight for us!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>All rushed to the deck; the drum beat to quarters.
+Captain Winslow laid aside his prayer-book, seized
+his trumpet, ordered the boat about, and headed seaward.
+The ship was cleared for action and the battery
+was pivoted to starboard.</p>
+
+<p>Yes, she was coming!</p>
+
+<p>From the western entrance of the safe, little French
+seaport steamed the long-bodied, low-hulled privateer:
+her rakish masts bending beneath the spread of
+canvas: her tall funnel belching sepia smoke. A
+French iron-clad frigate&mdash;the <i>Couronne</i>&mdash;accompanied
+her, flying the pennant of the Commander-of-the-Port.
+In her wake plodded a tiny fore-and-aft-rigged
+steamer-yacht: the <i>Deerhound</i>, showing the
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_383" id="Page_383">[Pg&nbsp;383]</a></span>
+flag of the Royal Mersey (British) Yacht Club. The
+frigate&mdash;having convoyed the Confederate privateer
+to the limit of the French waters (three marine miles
+from the coast)&mdash;put down her helm and ploughed
+back into port. The steam yacht continued on, and
+remained near the scene of action.</p>
+
+<p>As the <i>Alabama</i> had started upon her dash into the
+open, Captain Semmes had mounted a gun-carriage,
+and had cried,</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Officers and Seamen of the <i>Alabama</i>:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You have at length another opportunity of meeting
+the enemy&mdash;the first that has been presented to
+you since you sank the <i>Hatteras</i>! In the meantime
+you have been all over the world, and it is not too
+much to say that you have destroyed, and driven for
+protection under neutral flags, one-half of the enemy&rsquo;s
+commerce, which, at the beginning of the war, covered
+every sea. This is an achievement of which you
+may well be proud, and a grateful country will not
+be unmindful of it. The name of your ship has become
+a household word wherever civilization extends!
+Shall that name be tarnished by defeat? The thing
+is impossible! Remember that you are in the English
+Channel, the theatre of so much of the naval glory
+of our race, and that the eyes of all Europe are, at
+this moment, upon you. The flag that floats over
+you is that of a young Republic, which bids defiance
+to her enemies whenever and wherever found! Show
+the world that you know how to uphold it! Go to
+your quarters!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>A wild yell had greeted these stirring expressions.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_384" id="Page_384">[Pg&nbsp;384]</a></span>
+The shore was black with people, for the word had
+been passed around that the two sea-warriors were to
+grapple in deadly embrace. Even a special train had
+come from Paris to bring the sober townsfolk to
+Cherbourg, where they could view the contest. They
+were chattering among themselves, like a flock of magpies.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Voil&agrave;!&rdquo; said a fair damsel, whose eyes were fairly
+shining with excitement. &ldquo;Oh, I hope zat ze beeg
+gray fellow weel win.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>She meant the <i>Alabama</i>, for the Confederates
+dressed in that sober color.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Zis ees ze naval Waterloo!&rdquo; whispered a veteran
+of the Crimean War.</p>
+
+<p>It was 10.50 o&rsquo;clock. The <i>Kearsarge</i> had been
+steaming out to sea, but now she wheeled. She was
+seven miles from shore and one and one-quarter miles
+from her opponent. She steered directly for her, as
+if to ram her and crush through her side. The <i>Alabama</i>
+sheered off and presented her starboard battery.
+The <i>Kearsarge</i> came on, rapidly, and&mdash;at 10.57 was
+about eighteen hundred yards from her enemy&mdash;then&mdash;<em>Crash!
+Roar!</em> A broadside thundered from the
+Confederate privateer, while the solid shot screamed
+through the rigging of the Yankee man-of-war.</p>
+
+<p>On! On! came Captain Winslow&rsquo;s gallant craft,
+while a second and a third broadside crashed into her.
+The rigging tore and swayed, but she was little injured.
+She was now within nine hundred yards.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Sheer! Sheer!&rdquo; cried the Union Commander.</p>
+
+<p>The <i>Kearsarge</i> spun off and broke her long silence
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_385" id="Page_385">[Pg&nbsp;385]</a></span>
+with the starboard battery. <em>Crash! Roar!</em> the shells
+pounded around the great privateer, and, with a full
+head of steam, the corsair of the Southern Confederacy
+swept onward. <em>Crash! Roar!</em> she answered
+with shell, and the bursting iron shivered the foremast
+of her doughty opponent.</p>
+
+<p>Captain Winslow was fearful that the enemy would
+make for the shore, so he spun over his helm to port
+in the endeavor to run under the <i>Alabama</i>&rsquo;s stern and
+rake her. But she sheered off, kept her broadside
+to him, and pounded away like a pugilist. The ships
+were a quarter of a mile (440 yards) away from each
+other. They were circling around in a wide arc, plugging
+away as fast as they could load. The spectators
+cheered, for it was as good a show as they had ever
+witnessed.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Eet ees fine!&rdquo; said the veteran of the Crimea.
+&ldquo;Eet remin&rsquo; me of ze battaile at Balaklava!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly a wild cheer rose from the deck of the
+United States cruiser. A shot had struck the spanker-gaff
+on the enemy and her ensign had come down on
+the run.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Hurray!&rdquo; shouted the seamen. &ldquo;That means
+we&rsquo;ll win, sure!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The fallen ensign re-appeared at the mizzen, while
+firing from the <i>Alabama</i> became rapid and wild. The
+gunners of the <i>Kearsarge</i> had been cautioned against
+shooting without direct aim, and had been told to point
+their heavy guns below, rather than above the water-line.</p>
+
+<p>Captain Winslow was busy with his orders.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_386" id="Page_386">[Pg&nbsp;386]</a></span>
+&ldquo;Clear the enemy&rsquo;s deck with the light guns!&rdquo; he
+shouted. &ldquo;Sink the Confederate with the heavy
+iron!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Cheer succeeded cheer from his sailors. Caps were
+thrown into the air, or overboard. Jackets were
+tossed aside. Now, certain of victory, the men were
+shouting wildly, as each projectile took effect.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That&rsquo;s a good one!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Down, boys, down!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Give her another like the last!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Now&mdash;we have her!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The vessels continued to swing around each other
+in wide circles, and&mdash;at this moment&mdash;a sixty-eight
+pound Blakely shell passed through the starboard bulwarks
+of the <i>Kearsarge</i> below the main rigging, exploded
+on the quarter-deck, and wounded three of
+the crew of the after pivot-gun. The three unfortunate
+men were speedily taken below, but the act was
+done so quietly, that&mdash;at the termination of the fight&mdash;a
+large number of the crew were unaware that any
+of their comrades were injured.</p>
+
+<p>Two shots now crashed through the port-holes occupied
+by the thirty-two pounders; one exploded in
+the hammock-netting; the other shrieked through the
+opposite port; yet no one was hurt. Fire blazed from
+the deck; the alarm calling for fire-quarters was
+sounded, and the men who had been detailed for this
+emergency put it out. The rest stayed at the guns.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;">
+<a name="men_shouting_wildly" id="men_shouting_wildly"></a>
+<img src="images/fpas22.jpg" width="600" height="363" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">&ldquo;THE MEN WERE SHOUTING WILDLY, AS EACH PROJECTILE TOOK EFFECT.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The eleven-inch shells were doing terrible execution
+upon the quarter-deck of the <i>Alabama</i>. Three of
+them crashed into the eight-inch pivot-gun port; the
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_387" id="Page_387">[Pg&nbsp;387]</a></span>
+first swept off the forward part of the gun&rsquo;s crew;
+the second killed one man and wounded several others;
+the third struck the breast of the gun-carriage and
+spun around on the deck until one of the men picked
+it up and threw it overboard. The ship was careening
+heavily to starboard, while the decks were covered
+with the dead and dying. A shell plunged into the
+coal bunker and a dense cloud of coal dust arose.
+Crippled and torn, the hulking privateer began to
+settle by the stern. Her guns still spat and growled,
+and her broadsides were going wild. She was fast
+weakening.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Any one who silences that after pivot-gun will
+get one hundred dollars!&rdquo; cried Captain Semmes, as
+he saw the fearful accuracy of its fire.</p>
+
+<p><em>Crash!</em> a whole broadside from the privateer spat
+at this particular piece. It was in vain.</p>
+
+<p>Around and around circled the belching <i>Kearsarge</i>.
+Seven times she had swooped about the weakening
+gladiator of the sea, and her fire was more and more
+accurate. She was like a great eagle closing in for
+a deaththrust. Captain Semmes was in a desperate
+situation.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Hoist the fore-trysail and jibs!&rdquo; he called out
+above the din of cannon. &ldquo;Head for the French
+coast!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>As the sailors scrambled to obey, the <i>Alabama</i> presented
+her port battery to the <i>Kearsarge</i>. She showed
+gaping sides and only two guns were bearing.</p>
+
+<p>At this moment the chief engineer came up on the
+deck of the privateer.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_388" id="Page_388">[Pg&nbsp;388]</a></span>
+&ldquo;The fires are all out and the engines will not
+work!&rdquo; he reported to Captain Semmes.</p>
+
+<p>The doughty seaman turned to his chief executive
+officer, Mr. Kell.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Go below, sir,&rdquo; he shouted, &ldquo;and see how long the
+ship can float!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>In a few moments the sailor had returned from his
+inspection.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Captain!&rdquo; cried he, saluting. &ldquo;She will not stay
+on the sea for ten minutes.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The face of the Confederate was ashen, as he answered,</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Then, sir, cease firing, shorten sail, and haul down
+the colors. It will never do in this Nineteenth Century
+for us to go down with the decks covered with
+our gallant wounded!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>As he ceased speaking, a broadside roared from the
+side of his sinking vessel. The ensign of the <i>Kearsarge</i>
+had been stopped (rolled up and tied with a
+piece of twine) and, as a shell crashed through her
+rigging, a piece hit the flag-halyards&mdash;parted them&mdash;and
+unstopped the flag. It unfurled itself gallantly
+in the breeze, and, as its beautiful striping waved aloft,
+the sailors upon the deck gave a loud cheer, for this
+was the omen of Victory.</p>
+
+<p>At this moment, two of the junior officers upon the
+<i>Alabama</i> swore that they would never surrender, and,
+in a spirit of mutiny, rushed to the two port guns
+and opened fire upon the Union vessel.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;He is playing us a trick!&rdquo; shouted Winslow.
+&ldquo;Give him another broadside!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_389" id="Page_389">[Pg&nbsp;389]</a></span>
+Again the shot and shell went crashing through
+the sides of the Confederate cruiser. The <i>Kearsarge</i>
+was laid across her bows for raking, and, in a position
+to use grape and canister.</p>
+
+<p>A white flag was then shown over the stern of the
+<i>Alabama</i> and her ensign was half-masted; Union
+down.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Cease firing!&rdquo; shouted Captain Winslow.</p>
+
+<p>The great fight was over. It had lasted one hour
+and two minutes.</p>
+
+<p><em>Chugety, plug, splash!</em> The boats were lowered
+from the <i>Alabama</i>, and her Master&rsquo;s mate rowed to
+the <i>Kearsarge</i>, with a few of his wounded.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We are sinking,&rdquo; said he. &ldquo;You must come and
+help us!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Does Captain Semmes surrender his ship?&rdquo; asked
+Winslow.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;All right. Then I&rsquo;ll help you!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Fullam grinned.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;May I return with this boat and crew in order
+to rescue the drowning?&rdquo; he asked. &ldquo;I pledge you
+my word of honor that I will then come on board and
+surrender.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Captain Winslow granted his request.</p>
+
+<p>With less generosity, the victorious Commander
+could have detained the officers and men, supplied their
+places with his own sailors, and offered equal aid to
+the distressed. His generosity was abused. Fullam
+pulled to the midst of the drowning; rescued several
+officers; went to the yacht <i>Deerhound</i>, and cast his
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_390" id="Page_390">[Pg&nbsp;390]</a></span>
+boat adrift; leaving a number of men struggling in
+the water.</p>
+
+<p>The <i>Alabama</i> was settling fast.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;All hands overboard!&rdquo; cried Mr. Kell. &ldquo;Let
+every man grab a life-preserver, or a spar.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>As the sailors plunged into the sea, Captain Semmes
+dropped his sword into the waves and leaped outward,
+with a life-preserver around his waist. Kell followed,
+while the <i>Alabama</i> launched her bows high in the air,
+and&mdash;graceful, even in her death throes&mdash;plunged
+stern-foremost into the deep. A sucking eddy of
+foam, spars, and wreckage marked where once had
+floated the gallant ship.</p>
+
+<p>Thus sank the terror of the merchantmen&mdash;riddled
+through and through&mdash;and no cheer arose as her battered
+hulk went down in forty-five fathoms of water.
+Her star had set.</p>
+
+<p>The <i>Deerhound</i> had kept about a mile to windward
+of the two contestants, but she now steamed towards
+the mass of living heads, which dotted the surface of
+the sea. Her two boats were lowered, and Captain
+Semmes was picked up and taken aboard, with forty
+others. She then edged to the leeward and steamed
+rapidly away.</p>
+
+<p>An officer quickly approached Captain Winslow.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Better fire a shot at the yacht,&rdquo; he said, saluting.
+&ldquo;She&rsquo;s got Captain Semmes aboard and will run off
+with him.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Winslow smiled.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It&rsquo;s impossible,&rdquo; said he. &ldquo;She&rsquo;s simply coming
+around!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_391" id="Page_391">[Pg&nbsp;391]</a></span>
+But the <i>Deerhound</i> kept on.</p>
+
+<p>Another officer approached the commander of the
+<i>Kearsarge</i>.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That beastly yacht is carrying off our men,&rdquo; said
+he. &ldquo;Better bring her to, Captain!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No Englishman who carries the flag of the
+Royal Yacht Squadron can so act!&rdquo; Winslow replied,&mdash;somewhat
+pettishly. &ldquo;She&rsquo;s simply coming
+around.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>But she never &ldquo;came around,&rdquo; and Captain Raphael
+Semmes was soon safe upon British soil. He had
+fought a game fight. The superior gunnery of the
+sailors of the <i>Kearsarge</i> had been too much for him.
+Nine of his crew were dead and twenty-one wounded,
+while the <i>Kearsarge</i> had no one killed and but
+three wounded; one of whom died shortly afterwards.</p>
+
+<p>Thus,&mdash;the lesson is:</p>
+
+<p>If you want to win: Learn how to shoot
+straight!</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<p>Captain Raphael Semmes died quietly at Mobile,
+Alabama, August 30th, 1877. His ill-fated <i>Alabama</i>
+had inflicted a loss of over seven million dollars upon
+the commerce of the United States.</p>
+
+<p>A number of wise men met, many years afterwards,
+in Geneva, Switzerland, and decided, that, as the British
+Government had allowed this vessel to leave their
+shores, when warned by the American minister of her
+character and intention to go privateering, it should
+therefore pay for all the vessels which the graceful
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_392" id="Page_392">[Pg&nbsp;392]</a></span>
+cruiser had destroyed. England had broken the neutrality
+laws.</p>
+
+<p>John Bull paid up.</p>
+
+<p>
+But,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">&mdash;Boys&mdash;</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">it</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 5.5em;">hurt!</span><br />
+</p>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_393" id="Page_393">[Pg&nbsp;393]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>EL CAPITAN</h2>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">There was a Captain-General who ruled in Vera Cruz,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And what we used to hear of him was always evil news:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He was a pirate on the sea&mdash;a robber on the shore,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Se&ntilde;or Don Alonzo Estab&aacute;n San Salvador.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;There was a Yankee skipper who round about did roam;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His name was Stephen Folger,&mdash;Nantucket was his home:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And having sailed to Vera Cruz, he had been <em>skinned</em> full sore<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By the Se&ntilde;or Don Alonzo Estab&aacute;n San Salvador.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;But having got away alive, though all his cash was gone,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He said, &lsquo;If there is vengeance, I will surely try it on!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And I do wish that I may be hung,&mdash;if I don&rsquo;t clear the score<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With Se&ntilde;or Don Alonzo Estab&aacute;n San Salvador.&rsquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;He shipped a crew of seventy men&mdash;well-arm&eacute;d men were they,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And sixty of them in the hold he darkly stowed away;<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_394" id="Page_394">[Pg&nbsp;394]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">And, sailing back to Vera Cruz, was sighted from the shore<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By the Se&ntilde;or Don Alonzo Estab&aacute;n San Salvador.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;With twenty-five soldados, he came on board, so pleased,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And said &lsquo;<i>Maldito</i>, Yankee,&mdash;again your ship is seized.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How many sailors have you got?&rsquo; Said Folger, &lsquo;Ten&mdash;no more,&rsquo;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To the Captain Don Alonzo Estab&aacute;n San Salvador.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;&lsquo;But come into my cabin and take a glass of wine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I do suppose, as usual, I&rsquo;ll have to pay a fine:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I&rsquo;ve got some old Madeira, and we&rsquo;ll talk the matter o&rsquo;er&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My Captain Don Alonzo Estab&aacute;n San Salvador.&rsquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;And, as over the Madeira the Captain-General boozed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It seemed to him as if his head were getting quite confused;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For, it happened that some morphine had travelled from &lsquo;the Store&rsquo;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To the glass of Don Alonzo Estab&aacute;n San Salvador.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;&lsquo;What is it makes the vessel roll? What sounds are these I hear?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It seems as if the rising waves were beating on my ear!&rsquo;<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_395" id="Page_395">[Pg&nbsp;395]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">&lsquo;Oh, it is the breaking of the surf&mdash;just that, and nothing more,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My Captain Don Alonzo Estab&aacute;n San Salvador!&rsquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;The Governor was in a sleep, which muddled up his brains;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The seventy men had caught his &lsquo;gang&rsquo; and put them all in chains;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And, when he woke the following day, he could not see the shore,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For he was away out on the sea&mdash;the Don San Salvador.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;&lsquo;Now do you see the yard-arm&mdash;and understand the thing?&rsquo;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Said rough, old Folger, viciously&mdash;&lsquo;for this is where you&rsquo;ll swing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or forty thousand dollars you shall pay me from your store,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My Captain Don Alonzo Estab&aacute;n San Salvador!&rsquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;The Captain he took up a pen&mdash;the order he did sign&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&lsquo;O my, but Se&ntilde;or Yankee! You charge great guns for wine!&rsquo;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet it was not until the draft was paid, they let him go ashore,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">El Se&ntilde;or Don Alonzo Estab&aacute;n San Salvador.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<hr style="width: 15%;" /><br />
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_396" id="Page_396">[Pg&nbsp;396]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;The greater sharp will some day find another sharper wit;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It always makes the Devil laugh to see a biter bit;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It takes two Spaniards, any day, to comb a Yankee o&rsquo;er&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Even two like Don Alonzo Estab&aacute;n San Salvador.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_397" id="Page_397">[Pg&nbsp;397]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>RETROSPECT</h2>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The curtain falls, the plays are done,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To roar of shell and shock of gun;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The scuttled shipping bobs and sways,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In grime and muck of shallow bays.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The tattered ensigns mould&rsquo;ring lie,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As diving otters bark and cry;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While&mdash;in the lee of crumbling piers,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The rotting hulk its decking rears.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Gray, screaming kestrels wheel and sheer,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Above the wasted steering gear.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In moulding kelp and mackerel&rsquo;s sheen,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The blighted log-book hides unseen.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Red flash the beams of northern blaze.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Through beaded clouds of Elmo&rsquo;s haze;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While dim, unkempt, the ghostly crew<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Float by, and chant the lesson true!<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Sons of the fog-bound Northland; sons of the blinding seas,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If ye would cherish the trust which your fathers left,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ye must strive&mdash;ye must work&mdash;without ease.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Strong have your good sires battled, oft have your fathers bled,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If ye would hold up the flag which they&rsquo;ve never let sag,<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_398" id="Page_398">[Pg&nbsp;398]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">Ye must plod&mdash;ye must creep where they&rsquo;ve led.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The shimmering icebergs call you; the plunging screw-drums scream,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By shallowing shoals they haul you, to the beat of the walking beam.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The twisting petrels chatter, as ye drift by the waiting fleet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In your towering grim, gray Dreadnought,&mdash;a king who sneers at defeat.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While the silken pennons flutter; as the frozen halyards strain;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Comes the growling old-world mutter, the voice of the million slain:<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0"><i>Keep to your manly war games; keep to your warrior&rsquo;s play.</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Though the dove of peace is dancing to the sounding truce harp&rsquo;s lay.</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Arbitrate if you have to; smooth it o&rsquo;er if you must,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>But, be prepared for battle, to parry the war king&rsquo;s thrust.</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Don&rsquo;t foster the chip on the shoulder; don&rsquo;t hasten the slap in the face.</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>But, burnish your sword, ere you&rsquo;re older,&mdash;the blade of the ancient race.</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Hark to the deeds of your fathers; cherish the stories I&rsquo;ve told,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Then&mdash;go and do like, if you have to&mdash;and die&mdash;like a Hero of Old.</i><br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<div class="bbox" style="margin-top: 3em;">
+<p><b>Transcriber's Note</b></p>
+
+<p>Punctuation errors have been repaired. Hyphenation has been made consistent
+within the main text. There is some archaic and variable spelling, which has
+been preserved as printed.</p>
+
+<p>The following amendments have also been made:</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>Page <a href="#Page_3">3</a>&mdash;repeated book title deleted.</p>
+
+<p>Page <a href="#Page_77">77</a>&mdash;omitted word 'to' added after
+row&mdash;"... jumped into two small wherries in order
+to row to the lugger."</p>
+
+<p>Page <a href="#Page_156">156</a>&mdash;pedlers amended to
+peddlers&mdash;"There are tinkers, tailors, haymakers, peddlers,
+fiddlers, ..."</p>
+
+<p>Page <a href="#Page_178">178</a>&mdash;Huzza amended to
+Huzzah&mdash;"&ldquo;... Huzzah for Fortunatus Wright!&rdquo;"</p>
+
+<p>Page <a href="#Page_226">226</a>&mdash;envoll&eacute; amended to
+envol&eacute;&mdash;"&ldquo;Sapristi! L&rsquo;oiseau s&rsquo;est envol&eacute;.&rdquo;"</p>
+
+<p>Page <a href="#Page_248">248</a>&mdash;man&oelig;ver amended to
+man&oelig;uver&mdash;"... had simply followed my man&oelig;uver of
+wearing around under easy helm ..."</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>Illustrations have been moved slightly where necessary so that they are not
+in the middle of a paragraph. The frontispiece and advertising matter have been
+moved to follow the title page.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Famous Privateersmen and Adventurers
+of the Sea, by Charles H. L. Johnston
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN ***
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+</pre>
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+</body>
+</html>
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@@ -0,0 +1,12118 @@
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Famous Privateersmen and Adventurers of the
+Sea, by Charles H. L. Johnston
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere 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
+
+
+Title: Famous Privateersmen and Adventurers of the Sea
+       Their rovings, cruises, escapades, and fierce battling
+       upon the ocean for patriotism and for treasure
+
+Author: Charles H. L. Johnston
+
+Release Date: October 19, 2008 [EBook #26960]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by K Nordquist, Sam W. and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was
+produced from images generously made available by The
+Internet Archive/American Libraries.)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+            Famous Privateersmen
+         AND ADVENTURERS OF THE SEA
+
+   Their rovings, cruises, escapades, and
+       fierce battling upon the ocean
+           for patriotism and for
+                  treasure
+
+
+                     By
+
+           CHARLES H. L. JOHNSTON
+
+ Author of "Famous Cavalry Leaders," "Famous
+    Indian Chiefs," "Famous Scouts," etc.
+
+
+                Illustrated
+
+
+                [Decoration]
+
+
+                   BOSTON
+              THE PAGE COMPANY
+                 PUBLISHERS
+
+
+
+
+  FAMOUS LEADERS SERIES
+  BY
+  CHARLES H. L. JOHNSTON
+
+  Each one volume, large 12mo, illustrated, $1.50
+
+  [Decoration]
+
+    FAMOUS CAVALRY LEADERS
+    FAMOUS INDIAN CHIEFS
+    FAMOUS SCOUTS
+    FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN
+    FAMOUS FRONTIERSMEN
+
+  [Decoration]
+
+  THE PAGE COMPANY
+  53 Beacon Street, Boston, Mass.
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: From "The Army and Navy of the United States."
+    "AGAIN THE CANNON MADE THE SPLINTERS FLY."
+    (_See page 273._)]
+
+
+
+
+  _Copyright, 1911,_
+  BY L. C. PAGE & COMPANY
+  (INCORPORATED)
+
+
+  _All rights reserved_
+
+
+  First Impression, November, 1911
+  Second Impression, November, 1914
+
+
+  THE COLONIAL PRESS
+  C. H. SIMONDS CO., BOSTON, U. S. A.
+
+
+
+
+     I DEDICATE THIS BOOK TO THE HAPPY MEMORY OF
+
+                 George Alfred Henty
+
+    THE MOST STIMULATING AUTHOR OF BOOKS FOR BOYS
+      THAT THE PAST HALF CENTURY HAS PRODUCED,
+        AND A WRITER WHO HAS KEPT ALIVE THE
+        SPIRIT OF MANLY SPORT AND ADVENTURE
+          WHICH HAS MADE THE ANGLO-SAXON
+        PEOPLE A RACE OF WORLD CONQUERORS.
+                  MAY THEY NEVER
+                   RETROGRADE!
+
+
+
+
+_Thanks are due the Librarian of Congress, and particularly to Mr.
+Roberts of the Department of Prints, for numerous courtesies extended
+to the author during the compilation of this volume._
+
+
+
+
+PREFACE
+
+
+MY DEAR BOYS:--The sea stretches away from the land,--a vast sheet of
+unknown possibilities. Now gray, now blue, now slate colored, whipped
+into a thousand windrows by the storm, churned into a seething mass of
+frothing spume and careening bubbles, it pleases, lulls, then
+terrorizes and dismays. Perpetually intervening as a barrier between
+peoples and their countries, the wild, sobbing ocean rises, falls and
+roars in agony. It is a stoppage to progress and contact between races
+of men and warring nations.
+
+In the breasts of all souls slumbers the fire of adventure. To
+penetrate the unknown, to there find excitement, battle, treasure, so
+that one's future life can be one of ease and indolence--for this men
+have sacrificed the more stable occupations on land in order to push
+recklessly across the death-dealing billows. They have battled with
+the elements; they have suffered dread diseases; they have been
+tormented with thirst; with a torrid sun and with strange weather;
+they have sorrowed and they have sinned in order to gain fame,
+fortune, and renown. On the wide sweep of the ocean, even as on the
+rolling plateau of the once uninhabited prairie, many a harrowing
+tragedy has been enacted. These dramas have often had no
+chronicler,--the battle was fought out in the silence of the watery
+waste, and there has been no tongue to tell of the solitary conflict
+and the unseen strife.
+
+Of sea fighters there have been many: the pirate, the fillibusterer,
+the man-of-warsman, and the privateer. The first was primarily a
+ruffian and, secondarily, a brute, although now and again there were
+pirates who shone by contrast only. The fillibusterer was also engaged
+in lawless fighting on the sea and to this service were attracted the
+more daring and adventurous souls who swarmed about the shipping ports
+in search of employment and pelf. The man-of-warsman was the
+legitimate defender of his country's interests and fought in the open,
+without fear of death or imprisonment from his own people. The
+privateersman--a combination of all three--was the harpy of the
+rolling ocean, a vulture preying upon the merchant marine of the enemy
+to his country, attacking only those weaker than himself, scudding off
+at the advent of men-of-warsmen, and hovering where the guileless
+merchantman passed by. The privateersman was a gentleman adventurer, a
+protected pirate, a social highwayman of the waters. He throve, grew
+lusty, and prospered,--a robber legitimized by the laws of his own
+people.
+
+So these hardy men went out upon the water, sailed forth beneath the
+white spread of new-made canvas, and, midst the creaking of spars, the
+slapping of ropes, the scream of the hawser, the groan of the
+windlass, and the ruck and roar of wave-beaten wood, carved out their
+destinies. They fought. They bled. They conquered and were defeated.
+In the hot struggle and the desperate attack they played their parts
+even as the old Vikings of Norway and the sea rovers of the
+Mediterranean.
+
+Hark to the stories of those wild sea robbers! Listen to the tales of
+the adventurous pillagers of the rolling ocean! And--as your blood is
+red and you, yourself, are fond of adventure--ponder upon these
+histories with satisfaction, for these stalwart seamen
+
+    "Fought and sailed and took a prize
+    Even as it was their right,
+    Drank a glass and kissed a maid
+    Between the volleys of a fight.
+    _Don't_ begrudge their lives of danger,
+    _You_ are better off by far,
+    But, if war again comes,--stranger,
+    Hitch _your_ wagon to their star."
+
+                    CHARLES H. L. JOHNSTON.
+
+
+
+
+    The bugle calls to quarters,
+    The roar of guns is clear,
+    Now--ram your charges home, Lads!
+    And cheer, Boys! Cheer!
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+
+                                                             PAGE
+    PREFACE                                                   vii
+
+    CARLO ZENO: HERO OF THE VENETIAN REPUBLIC                   1
+
+    SIR FRANCIS DRAKE: ROVER AND SEA RANGER                    23
+
+    SIR WALTER RALEIGH: PERSECUTOR OF THE SPANIARDS            53
+
+    JEAN BART: THE SCOURGE OF THE DUTCH                        83
+
+    DU GUAY-TROUIN: THE GREAT FRENCH "BLUE"                   113
+
+    EDWARD ENGLAND: TERROR OF THE SOUTH SEAS                  137
+
+    WOODES ROGERS: THE BRISTOL MARINER                        153
+
+    FORTUNATUS WRIGHT: THE MOST HATED PRIVATEERSMAN
+      OF THE MEDITERRANEAN SEA                                173
+
+    GEORGE WALKER: WINNER OF THE GAMEST SEA FIGHT
+      OF THE ENGLISH CHANNEL                                  199
+
+    JOHN PAUL JONES: THE FOUNDER OF THE AMERICAN
+      NAVY                                                    239
+
+    CAPTAIN SILAS TALBOT: STAUNCH PRIVATEERSMAN OF
+      NEW ENGLAND                                             283
+
+    CAPTAIN "JOSH" BARNEY: THE IRREPRESSIBLE YANKEE           299
+
+    ROBERT SURCOUF: THE "SEA HOUND" FROM ST. MALO             319
+
+    LAFITTE: PRIVATEER, PIRATE, AND TERROR OF THE
+      GULF OF MEXICO                                          341
+
+    RAPHAEL SEMMES: DESPOILER OF AMERICAN COMMERCE            373
+
+    EL CAPITAN                                                393
+
+    RETROSPECT                                                397
+
+
+
+
+LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
+
+
+                                                             PAGE
+    "AGAIN THE CANNON MADE THE SPLINTERS FLY"
+      (_See page 273_)                             _Frontispiece_
+
+    ZENO'S FLEET                                               18
+
+    SIR FRANCIS DRAKE                                          28
+
+    DRAKE'S GREATEST VICTORY ON THE SPANISH MAIN               44
+
+    YOUNG RALEIGH AND A COMPANION LISTENING TO TALES OF
+      THE SPANISH MAIN                                         55
+
+    SIR WALTER RALEIGH                                         60
+
+    JEAN BART                                                  86
+
+    "JEAN BART LED HIS BOARDERS OVER THE SIDE OF THE
+      DUTCH VESSEL"                                           108
+
+    COMBAT BETWEEN DU GUAY-TROUIN AND VAN WASSENAER           135
+
+    "'LEFT US ENGAGED WITH BARBAROUS AND INHUMAN ENEMIES'"    146
+
+    "THE BOARDERS WERE REPULSED WITH GREAT SLAUGHTER"         193
+
+    ACTION BETWEEN THE "GLORIOSO" AND THE "KING GEORGE"
+      AND "PRINCE FREDERICK" UNDER GEORGE WALKER              231
+
+    AMERICAN PRIVATEER TAKING POSSESSION OF A PRIZE           239
+
+    "BEGAN TO HULL THE 'DRAKE' BELOW THE WATER-LINE"          261
+
+    "THEY SWARMED INTO THE FORECASTLE AMIDST FIERCE
+      CHEERS"                                                 277
+
+    "TALBOT, HIMSELF, AT THE HEAD OF HIS ENTIRE CREW,
+      CAME LEAPING ACROSS THE SIDE"                           289
+
+    AMERICAN PRIVATEER CAPTURING TWO ENGLISH SHIPS            298
+
+    "SURCOUF SCANNED HER CAREFULLY THROUGH HIS GLASS"         336
+
+    RAPHAEL SEMMES                                            376
+
+    "THE MEN WERE SHOUTING WILDLY, AS EACH PROJECTILE
+      TOOK EFFECT"                                            386
+
+
+
+
+CARLO ZENO
+
+HERO OF THE VENETIAN REPUBLIC
+
+(1344-1418)
+
+
+    "Paradise is under the shadow of swords."--MAHOMET.
+
+
+CARLO ZENO
+
+HERO OF THE VENETIAN REPUBLIC
+
+(1344-1418)
+
+    Zeno, noble Zeno, with your curious canine name,
+    You shall never lack for plaudits in the golden hall of fame,
+    For you fought as well with galleys as you did with burly men,
+    And your deeds of daring seamanship are writ by many a pen.
+    From sodden, gray Chioggia the singing Gondoliers,
+    Repeat in silvery cadence the story of your years,
+    The valor of your comrades and the courage of your foe,
+    When Venice strove with Genoa, full many a year ago.
+
+
+The torches fluttered from the walls of a burial vault in ancient
+Venice. Two shrouded figures leaned over the body of a dead warrior,
+and, as they gazed upon the wax-like features, their eyes were filled
+with tears.
+
+"See," said the taller fellow. "He has indeed led the stalwart life.
+Here are five and thirty wounds upon the body of our most renowned
+compatriot. He was a true hero."
+
+"You speak correctly, O Knight," answered the other. "Carlo Zeno was
+the real warrior without fear and without reproach. He has fared
+badly at the hands of the Republic. But then,--is this not life? Those
+most worthy seem never to receive their just compensation during their
+living hours. It is only when they are dead that a tardy public gives
+them some recognition of the great deeds which they have done, the
+battles which they have fought, and the honor which they have brought
+to their native land. Alas! poor Zeno! He--the true patriot--has had
+but scant and petty praise."
+
+So saying the two noble Venetians covered the prostrate form of the
+dead warrior--for they had lifted the brown robe which enshrouded
+him--and, with slow faltering steps, they left the gloomy chamber of
+death.
+
+Who was this Venetian soldier, who, covered with the marks of battle,
+lay in his last sleep? Who--this hero of war's alarms? This patriotic
+leader of the rough-and-ready rovers of the sea?
+
+It was Carlo Zeno,--a man of the best blood of Venice,--who,
+commanding fighting men and fighting ships, had battled strenuously
+and well for his native country.
+
+The son of Pietro Zeno and Agnese Dandolo, this famous Venetian had
+been well bred to the shock of battle, for his father was for some
+time Governor of Padua, and had won a great struggle against the
+Turks, when the careening galleys of the Venetian Squadron grappled
+blindly with the aggressive men of the Ottoman Empire. There were ten
+children in the family and little Carlo was named after the Emperor
+Charles IV, who sent a retainer to the baptism of the future seaman,
+saying, "I wish the child well. He has a brave and noble father and I
+trust that his future will be auspicious."
+
+Little Carlo was destined for the Church, and, with a Latin eulogium
+in his pocket (which his Venetian school-master had written out for
+him) was sent to the court of the Pope at Avignon. The sweet-faced boy
+was but seven years of age. He knelt before the prelate and his
+retainers, reciting the piece of prose with such precision, grace, and
+charm, that all were moved by his beauty, his memory, his spirit, and
+his liveliness of person.
+
+"You are indeed a noble youth," cried the Pope. "You shall come into
+my household. There you shall receive an education and shall be a
+canon of the cathedral of Patras, with a rich benefice."
+
+But little Carlo did not remain. Although dressed like a mimic priest
+and taught with great care, the hot blood of youth welled in his veins
+and made him long for a life more active and more dangerous. So he
+looked about for adventure so thoroughly that he was soon able to have
+his first narrow escape, and a part in one of those many brawls which
+were to come to him during his career of war and adventure.
+
+Sent by his relations to the University of Padua, he was returning to
+Venice from the country, one day, when a man leaped upon him as he
+walked down a narrow road.
+
+"Who are you?" cried Carlo fearfully.
+
+But the fellow did not answer. Instead,--he struck him suddenly with
+a stout cudgel--knocked him senseless on the turf, took all the
+valuables which he had, and ran silently away into the gloom.
+
+Little Carlo came to his senses after many hours, and, staggering
+forward with weakened steps, reached Mestre, where kind friends
+dressed his wounds.
+
+"I shall catch this assailant," cried he, when he had revived. "He
+shall rue the day that he ever touched the person of Carlo Zeno." And
+forthwith he secured a number of bloodhounds with which to track the
+cowardly ruffian of the highway.
+
+Luck was with the future commander of the galleons and fighting men. He
+ran the scurvy assailant to earth, like a fox. He captured him, bound
+him and handed him over to the justice of Padua,--where--for the
+heinousness of the offense--the man was executed. So ended the first
+conflict in which the renowned Carlo Zeno was engaged,--successfully--as
+did most of his later battles.
+
+Not long afterwards young Zeno returned to his studies at the
+University, but here--as a lover of excitement--he fell into bad
+company. Alas! he took to gambling, and frittered away all of his
+ready money, so that he had to sell his books in order to play. The
+profit from these was soon gone. He was bankrupt at the early age of
+seventeen.
+
+Ashamed to go home, the future sea rover disappeared from Padua and
+joined a fighting band of mercenaries (paid soldiers) who were in the
+employ of a wealthy Italian Prince. He was not heard of for full five
+years. Thus, his relatives gave him up for dead, and, when--one
+day--he suddenly stalked into the house of his parents, his brothers
+and sisters set up a great shout of wonder and amazement. "Hurrah!"
+cried they, "the dead has returned to his own. This is no ghost, for
+he speaks our own native tongue. Carlo Zeno, you shall be given the
+best that we have, for we believed that you had gone to another
+world."
+
+Pleased and overwhelmed with affection, young Carlo stayed for a time
+with his family, and then--thinking that, as he had been trained for
+the priesthood, he had best take charge of his canonry of Patras--he
+went to Greece.
+
+"Hah! my fine fellow," said the Governor, when he first saw him, "I
+hear that you are fond of fighting. It is well. The Turks are very
+troublesome, just now, and they need some stout Venetian blood to hold
+them in check. You must assist us."
+
+"I'll do my best," cried Zeno with spirit, and, he had not been there
+a week before the Ottomans swooped down upon the city, bent upon its
+demolition. The young Venetian sallied forth--with numerous fighting
+men--to meet them, and, in the first clash of arms, received such a
+gaping wound that he was given up for dead. In fact, when carried to
+the city, he was considered to be without life, was stretched upon a
+long settee, was clothed in a white sheet, and prepared for interment.
+But in the early morning he suddenly opened his eyes, gazed
+wonderingly at the white shroud which covered him, and cried, with no
+ill humor,
+
+"Not yet, my friends. Carlo Zeno will disappoint all your fondest
+hopes. Once more I am of the world."
+
+And, so saying, he scrambled to his feet, much to the dismay of the
+sorrowing Venetians, who had been carefully spreading a number of
+flowers upon the prostrate form of the supposedly dead warrior.
+
+But so weak was the youthful hero that he had to be taken to Venice in
+order to recover. When strong again he resumed his studies for the
+ministry and was sent to Patras, a city that was soon threatened by an
+army of twelve thousand Cypriotes and Frenchmen.
+
+"Here, Zeno," cried the Bishop of Patras to the virile young
+stripling. "We have seven hundred riders in our city. With this mere
+handful, you must defend us against our enemies. The odds are fifteen
+to one against you. But you must struggle valiantly to save our
+beautiful capital."
+
+"Aye! Sire!" cried the youthful student of church history. "I shall do
+my best to free your capital from these invaders. May the God of Hosts
+be with us! My men salute you."
+
+So saying the valiant youth led his small and ill drilled company
+against the besiegers, and, so greatly did he harass his adversaries,
+that they abandoned the enterprise, at the end of six months; made
+peace; and retired.
+
+"Hail to Zeno!" cried many of the soldiers. "He is a leader well worth
+our respect. Without him the great city would have surely fallen. Yea!
+Hail to young Zeno."
+
+These words of praise reached the ears of a certain Greek Knight
+named Simon, and so roused his envy, that he audaciously accused Carlo
+of treachery, which was soon told to the hot-headed young warrior. He
+acted as one would well expect of him.
+
+"I challenge you to single combat," cried he. "The duel shall be
+fought in Naples under the eye of Queen Johanna."
+
+In vain Carlo's friends besought him to forgive the loose-tongued
+Simon--his patron, the Bishop, exhausted his eloquence in the endeavor
+to reconcile the two. The hot blood of youth would out. It was fight
+and no compromise. But before the trial, the bold and unyielding
+soldier threw up his position with the Church and married a rich and
+noble lady of Clarenta, whose fortune well supplanted the large income
+which he had forfeited by his resignation.
+
+Now honor called for deeds. Almost immediately he was obliged to leave
+for Naples in order to meet the detractor of his valor, and, to his
+surprise, the Queen spoke lightly of the quarrel. "It is a question of
+law," said she. "An inquiry shall be had. There must be no bloodshed."
+
+An inquiry was therefore in order, and it was a thorough one. "Simon
+is in the wrong," said the fellow acting as clerk for those sitting
+upon the case. "He must pay all the expenses to which Zeno has been
+put, and there shall be no duel."
+
+"My honor has been cleared," cried Zeno. "I must return to Greece."
+There--strange as it might seem--he was at once named Governor of a
+province, though not yet twenty-three. Events were going well with
+him. But his wife died, he was cheated of his dowry by her relations,
+and so he turned once more to Venice,--saddened, older and nearly
+penniless. The wheel of fortune had turned badly for this leader of
+fighting men and future general of white-winged galleons of the sea.
+
+But now there was a really good fight--such a fight as all true
+sailors love--a fight which tested the grit and courage of Zeno to the
+full. It was the first of those heroic deeds of arms which shed
+undying lustre on his name, and marked him as a seaman of the first
+rank,--a captain of true courage, resources and ambition.
+
+The Genoese (or inhabitants of Genoa) and the Venetians, were
+continually at war in these days, and when--in patriotic zeal--Carlo
+Zeno seized the island of Tenedos, the Venetian Senate, fearing lest
+the Genoese would seek to recover the lost possession, sent a fleet of
+fifteen ships to guard it, under one Pietro Mocenigo. There were also
+two other vessels, one commanded by Carlo Zeno himself. The mass of
+galleys floated on to Constantinople, for the Greeks had allied
+themselves with the Genoese, had seized a Venetian man-of-war, which
+had been captured, and had then retired. Three lumbering hulks were
+left to protect the fair isle of Tenedos,--under Zeno, the war-like
+Venetian.
+
+"Aha," said a Genoese seaman. "There are but three galleys left to
+save our isle of Tenedos. We shall soon take it with our superior
+force. Forward, O sailors! We'll have revenge for the attack of the
+wild men from Venice."
+
+"On! on!" cried the Genoese seamen, and without further ado,
+twenty-two galleys careened forward, their white sails bellying in the
+wind, their hawsers groaning, spars creaking, and sailors chattering
+like magpies on a May morning.
+
+Carlo Zeno had only three hundred regular soldiers and a few archers,
+but he occupied the suburbs of the town and waited for the attackers
+to land. This they did in goodly numbers, for the sea was calm and
+motionless, although it was the month of November.
+
+"Men!" cried the intrepid Zeno, "you are few. The enemy are as
+numerous as blades of grass. Do your duty! Fight like Trojans, and, if
+you win, your grateful countrymen will treat you as heroes should be
+respected. Never say die, and let every arrow find an opening in the
+armor of the enemy."
+
+The Genoese came on with shouts of expectancy, but they were met with
+a far warmer reception than they had anticipated. The air was filled
+with flying arrows, as, crouching low behind quickly constructed
+redoubts, the followers of the stout-souled Zeno busily stretched
+their bowstrings, and shot their feathered barbs into the mass of
+crowding seamen. Savage shouts and hoarse cries of anguish, rose from
+both attackers and attacked, while the voice of Zeno, shrilled high
+above the battle's din, crying: "Shoot carefully, my men, do not let
+them defeat us, for the eyes of Venice are upon you." So they
+struggled and bled, until the shadows began to fall, when--realizing
+that they were unable to take the courageous Venetians--the Genoese
+withdrew to their ships.
+
+There was laughter and song around the camp fires of Zeno's little
+band, that night, but their leader spoke critically of the morrow.
+
+"Sleep well, my men," said he, "for I know that our foes are well
+angered at the beating we have given them. Next morn we shall again be
+at war. Let us keep our courage and have as a battle cry, 'Venice! No
+retreat and no quarter!'"
+
+When morning dawned the Genoese were seen to land engines of war, with
+the apparent intention of laying siege to the town. Their preparations
+showed that they meant to attack upon the side farthest from the
+castle, so Carlo Zeno--the quick-witted--placed a number of his men in
+ambush, among a collection of half-ruined and empty houses which stood
+in that quarter. "Stay here, my men," said he, "and when the enemy has
+advanced, charge them with fury. We must win to-day, or we will be
+disgraced."
+
+Meanwhile the rest of the Venetians had retreated inland, and,
+crouching low behind a screen of brush, waited patiently for the
+Genoese to come up. "Be cautious," cried Zeno, "and when the enemy is
+within striking distance, charge with all the fury which you possess."
+
+"Aye! Aye! Good master," cried the stubborn soldiers. "We mark well
+what you tell us."
+
+Not long afterwards the attacking party came in view, and, without
+suspecting what lay in front, advanced with quick gait towards the
+supposedly defenseless town. But suddenly, with a wild yell, the
+followers of Zeno leaped from behind the screening bushes, and dashed
+towards them. At the same instant, the soldiers who had been placed in
+hiding, attacked suddenly from the rear. Arrows poured into the ranks
+of the Genoese, and they fell like wheat before the scythe of the
+reaper. Hoarse shouts, groans, and cries of victory and death, welled
+above the battle's din.
+
+In the midst of this affair Carlo Zeno gave a cry of pain. An arrow
+(poisoned 'tis said) had entered his leg and struck him to the ground.
+But, nothing daunted, he rose to cry shrilly to his men, "On! On!
+Drive them to the ocean." And, so well did his soldiers follow these
+commands, that the Genoese fled in confusion and disorder to their
+ships. The day was won.
+
+As was natural, Zeno paid no attention to his wound, and, when the
+enemy hurried to shore the next day for another attack, they were
+greeted with such a terrific discharge of artillery that they gave up
+their idea of capturing the island and sailed away amidst cries of
+derision from the delighted Venetians.
+
+"Hurrah!" cried they. "Hurrah for Zeno!" But so exhausted was the
+intrepid leader by reason of his wound that he fell into a spasm as if
+about to die. His iron constitution pulled him through, however, and
+soon he and the faithful band returned to Venice, covered with glory,
+and full satisfied with their hard won victory.
+
+The daring Zeno was well deserving of praise, for he had beaten a
+fleet and an army by sheer genius, with three ships and a handful of
+men. To Venice had been preserved the valuable island which guards the
+entrance to the Dardanelles, and to her it was to remain for years,
+although the Genoese tried many times and oft to wrest it from her
+grasp.
+
+Now came another struggle--the war of Chioggia--a struggle in which
+Carlo Zeno played a great and noble part,--a part, in fact, that has
+made his name a byword among the grateful Venetians: a part in which
+he displayed a leadership quite equal to that of a Drake, or a
+Hawkins, and led his fighting galleons with all the courage of a lion.
+Hark, then, to the story of this unfortunate affair! Hark! and let
+your sympathy be stirred for Carlo Zeno, the indefatigable navigator
+of the clumsy shipping of the Italian peninsula!
+
+For years the Republics of Genoa and Venice remained at peace, but,
+for years the merchants of the two countries had endeavored to outwit
+each other in trade; and, thus, when the Genoese seized several
+Venetian ships with rich cargoes, in 1350, and refused to give them
+up, war broke out between the rival Republics. In two engagements at
+sea, the Venetians were defeated; but in a third they were victorious,
+and forever sullied the banner of St. Mark, which flew from their
+Admiral's mast-head, by causing nearly five thousand prisoners of war
+to be drowned. Fired by a desire for immediate revenge upon their foe,
+the Genoese hurried a mighty fleet to sea, and ravaged the Italian
+coast up to the very doors of Venice itself. Several other
+engagements followed, in most of which the Venetians were defeated;
+and then there were twenty years of peace before another conflict.
+
+Finally war broke out afresh. Angry and vindictive, the Genoese bore
+down upon the Venetian coast in numerous lumbering galleys,
+determined--this time--to reach Venice itself, and to sack this rich
+and populous city. With little difficulty they captured Chioggia, a
+seaport, a populous city and the key to the lagoons which led to the
+heart of the capital. They advanced to the very outskirts of Venice,
+and their cries of joyous vindictiveness sounded strangely near to the
+now terrified inhabitants, who, rallying around their old generals and
+city fathers, were determined to fight to the last ditch.
+
+As winter came, the victoriously aggressive Genoese retreated to
+Chioggia, withdrawing their fleet into the safe harbor to await the
+spring; leaving only two or three galleys to cruise before the
+entrance, in case the now angered Venetians should attack. But they
+were to be rudely awakened from their fancied seclusion.
+
+"Lead us on, O Pisani," the Venetians had cried in the broad market
+space of their beloved city. "We must and will drive these invaders
+into their own country. Never have we received before such insults.
+On! On! to Chioggia."
+
+So, silent and vengeful, the Venetian fleet stole out to sea on the
+evening of December twenty-first. There were thirty-four galleys,
+sixty smaller armed vessels, and hundreds of flat-bottomed boats.
+Pisani was in the rear, towing two heavy, old hulks, laden with
+stones, to sink in the entrance of the harbor and bottle up the fleet,
+even as the Americans were to sink the _Merrimac_ in the Harbor of
+Santiago, many years afterwards.
+
+The Genoese were unready. The cruisers, on duty as sentinels, were not
+where they should have been, and so the gallant Pisani scuttled the
+hulks across the harbor entrance and caught the bold marauders like
+rats in a trap. The fleet of the enemy was paralyzed, particularly as
+another river's mouth, some two miles southward, was also blockaded.
+Smiles of satisfaction shone upon the faces of the outraged Venetians.
+
+Carlo Zeno was hurrying up with a strong fleet manned by veteran
+seamen, but the now victorious followers of Pisani wished to return to
+Venice.
+
+"It is the Christmas season," cried many. "We have fought like lions.
+We have shut up our enemy. We have averted the extreme danger. Let us
+return to our wives and our children!"
+
+"You cannot go," said Pisani, sternly. "You are the entire male
+population of Venice. Without you the great expedition will come to
+naught, and all of our toil will have been thrown away. Only be calm.
+Carlo Zeno will soon be here, and we can then take Chioggia!"
+
+Alas! Like Columbus, he saw himself upon the verge of losing the
+result of all his labor for lack of confidence in him upon the part of
+his men. He could not keep them by force, so wearily and anxiously he
+scanned the horizon for signs of an approaching sail.
+
+The days went slowly by for the lion-hearted Pisani. Carlo Zeno did
+not come. Day after day the valiant leader fearfully looked for the
+white-winged canvas of a Venetian galleon, but none came to view. On
+the thirtieth day of December his men were very mutinous.
+
+"We will seize the ships and return to-morrow to Venice," cried
+several. "We have had enough of war. Our wives and daughters cry to us
+to return."
+
+Pisani was desperate.
+
+"If Carlo Zeno does not come in forty-eight hours, the fleet may
+return to Lido," said he. "Meanwhile, keep your guns shooting at the
+enemy. We must make these Genoese feel that we shall soon attack in
+force."
+
+But Pisani's heart was leaden. Where, yes, where was Zeno? New Year's
+Day came, and, by his promise, he must let the Venetians go. What did
+this mean for him? It meant the fall of Venice, the end of the
+Republic, the destruction of the population with all that they
+possessed. He--their idol, their leader for ten days--could no longer
+lead, for the Venetians could not bear a little cold and hardship for
+his sake. Sad--yes, sad, indeed--was the face of the stout seaman as
+he gave one last despairing glance at the horizon.
+
+Ha! What was that? A thin, white mark against the distant blue! It
+grew larger and clearer. It was the sail of a galley. Another, and
+another, and another hove in sight,--eighteen in all, and driving
+along swiftly before a heavy wind. But, were they hostile, or
+friendly? That was the question. Was it Zeno, or were these more
+galleons of the Genoese? Then, joy shone in the keen eyes of Pisani,
+for the banner of St. Mark fluttered from the peak of the foremost
+ship, and floated fair upon the morning breeze. Hurrah! It was Carlo
+Zeno, the lion-hearted.
+
+God speed brave Zeno! He had been twice wounded in fights along the
+coast, en route, but nothing could diminish his energy, or dampen his
+ardor. He had laid waste the Genoese coast; he had intercepted convoys
+of grain; he had harassed the enemy's commerce in the East, and he had
+captured a huge vessel of theirs with five hundred thousand pieces of
+gold. Marvellous Zeno! Brave, courageous Venetian sea-dog, you are
+just in the nick of time!
+
+"Thanks be to Heaven that you have come," cried Pisani, tears welling
+to his eyes. "Now we will go in and take Chioggia. It means the end of
+the war for us. Again, I say, thanks be to Heaven."
+
+With renewed hope and confidence the Venetians now pushed the siege.
+Seeing that their fleet could never escape, the Genoese started to dig
+a canal to the open sea, by which the boats could be brought off
+during the night. The work was begun, but Carlo Zeno discovered it in
+time. Volunteers were called for, a force was soon landed, and, under
+the leadership of Zeno, marched to intercept the diggers of this, the
+only means of escape.
+
+"The Venetians are going towards 'Little Chioggia,'" cried many of the
+Genoese. "We must hasten there to stop them."
+
+[Illustration: From an old print.
+    ZENO'S FLEET.]
+
+But Zeno had only made a feint in this direction. Throwing his main
+force in the rear of the Genoese, he soon began to cut them up badly.
+They were seized with a panic. They fled towards the bridge of
+Chioggia, trampling upon each other as they ran, pursued and slashed
+to ribbons by Zeno's men. The bridge broke beneath the weight of the
+fugitives and hundreds were drowned in the canal, while thousands
+perished near the head of this fateful causeway. It was a great and
+signal victory for Zeno; the intrepid sea-dog and campaigner on land.
+
+This was a death blow. That night some of the garrison hastened to
+desert, and, as the siege progressed, the drinking water began to
+fail, the food gave out, and starvation stared the holders of Chioggia
+in the face. On the twenty-fourth of June the city surrendered; and
+four thousand one hundred and seventy Genoese, with two hundred
+Paduans--ghastly and emaciated--more like moving corpses than living
+beings--marched out to lay down their arms. Seventeen galleys, also,
+were handed over to the Venetians: the war-worn relics of the once
+powerful fleet which had menaced Venice itself.
+
+As a feat of generalship, Pisani's blockade of the Genoese fleet is
+rivalled by Sampson's blockade of Cervera's squadron at Santiago in
+1898, and the military operation by which Carlo Zeno tempted the
+garrison of Brondolo into the trap which he had set for them, and
+drove them, like a flock of sheep into Chioggia, by sunset, is surely
+a splendid feat of arms. All honor to this intrepid sea-dog of old
+Venice!
+
+How fickle is Dame Fortune! Jealous of the reputation of this noble
+Venetian, the patricians, whose advice, during the war, he had
+consistently declined to follow; refused to make him a Doge of the
+City. It was thought that the election of the bravest captain of the
+day might be dangerous to the Republic. Instead of doing him honor,
+they imprisoned him; and was he not the noblest patriot of them all?
+
+When over seventy years of age,--the greatest and truest
+Venetian--loaned a small sum of money to the Prince Carrara, once a
+power in Venetian politics. He had saved his country from destruction.
+He had served her with the most perfect integrity. Yet, he reaped the
+reward which fell to the share of nearly every distinguished Venetian;
+he was feared by the government; hated by the nobles whom he had
+out-stripped in honor, and was condemned to prison by men who were not
+worthy to loose the latchet of his shoes. Although he had often paid
+the mercenary soldiers to fight for Venice, in the War of Chioggia,
+from his own pocket, he was sent to jail for loaning money to an
+unfortunate political refugee.
+
+When called before the Council of Ten on the night of the twentieth of
+January, 1406, the warrant for his examination authorized the use of
+torture. But even the Ten hesitated at this.
+
+"He is a brave man," said one. "Pray allow him to go untouched."
+
+The prisoner admitted that he had loaned the money. His explanation
+was both honorable and clear. But the Ten were obdurate that night.
+
+"He shall go to the Pozzi prison for a year," said they. "Besides
+this, he shall suffer the perpetual loss of all offices which he has
+held."
+
+Like a brave man, Carlo Zeno accepted the sentence without a murmur,
+and his sturdy frame did not suffer from the confinement. For twelve
+years longer he lived in perfect health; made a pilgrimage to
+Jerusalem; commanded the troops of the Republic once again; defeated
+the Cypriotes, and died peacefully,--a warrior with a name of
+undiminished lustre, most foully tarnished by his own compatriots. His
+is a reputation of undying glory, that of his judges is that of
+eternal shame. All honor to Carlo Zeno, the valorous Venetian, who
+could fight a ship as well as a squadron of foot soldiers on land!
+_Salve, Venetia!_
+
+
+    "Dip the banner of St. Mark,
+    Dip--and let the lions roar.
+    Zeno's soul has gone above,
+    Bow--a warrior's life is o'er."
+
+
+
+
+HARKEE, BOYS!
+
+
+    Harkee, Boys! I'll tell you of the torrid, Spanish Main,
+    Where the tarpons leap and tumble in the silvery ocean plain,
+    Where the wheeling condors circle; where the long-nosed ant-bears sniff
+    At the food the Jackie "caches" in the Aztec warrior's cliff.
+
+    _Oh! Hurray for the deck of a galleon stout,_
+    _Hurray for the life on the sea,_
+    _Hurray! for the cutlass; the dirk; an' th' pike;_
+    _Wild rovers we will be._
+
+    Harkee, Boys! I'll tell you of the men of Morgan's band,
+    Of Drake and England--rascals--in the palm-tree, tropic land.
+    I'll tell you of bold Hawkins, how he sailed around the Horn.
+    And the Manatees went _chuck! chuck! chuck!_ in the sun-baked,
+        lazy morn.
+
+    _Oh! Hurray for the deck of a galleon stout,_
+    _Hurray for the life on the sea,_
+    _Hurray! for the cutlass; the dirk; an' th' pike;_
+    _Wild rovers we will be._
+
+    Harkee, Boys! You're English, and you come of roving blood,
+    Now, when you're three years older, you must don a sea-man's hood,
+    You must turn your good ship westward,--you must plough towards
+        the land
+    Where the mule-train bells go _tink! tink! tink!_ and the bending
+        cocoas stand.
+
+    _Oh! You will be off on a galleon stout,_
+    _Oh! You will be men of the sea,_
+    _Hurray! for the cutlass; the dirk; an' th' pike;_
+    _Wild rovers you will be._
+
+
+
+
+SIR FRANCIS DRAKE
+
+ROVER AND SEA RANGER
+
+(1540-1596)
+
+
+    "The man who frets at worldly strife
+    Grows sallow, sour, and thin;
+    Give us the lad whose happy life
+    Is one perpetual grin:
+    He, Midas-like, turns all to gold,--
+    He smiles, when others sigh,
+    Enjoys alike the hot and cold,
+    And laughs through wet and dry."
+
+                    --DRAKE.
+
+
+SIR FRANCIS DRAKE
+
+ROVER AND SEA RANGER
+
+(1540-1596)
+
+    Sing a song of stout dubloons,
+    Of gold and jingling brass,
+    A song of Spanish galleons,
+    Foul-bottomed as they pass.
+    Of roaring blades and stumbling mules,
+    Of casks of malmsey wine,
+    Of red, rip-roaring ruffians,
+    In a thin, meandering line.
+
+    _They're with Drake, Drake, Drake,_
+    _He can make the sword hilt's shake,_
+    _He's a rattling, battling Captain of the Main._
+    _You can see the Spaniards shiver,_
+    _As he nears their shelt'ring river,_
+    _While his eyelids never quiver_
+    _At the slain._
+
+        So,--
+        Here's to Drake, Drake, Drake,
+        Come--make the welkin shake,
+        And raise your frothing glasses up on high.
+        If you love a man and devil,
+        Who can treat you on the level,
+        Then, clink your goblet's bevel,
+        To Captain Drake.
+
+
+"Take care, boy, you will fall overboard. Take care and do not play
+with your brother near the edge of our good ship, for the water here
+is deep, and I know that you can swim but ill."
+
+The man who spoke was a rough, grizzled sea-dog, clad in an old
+jersey and tarpaulins. He stood upon the deck of an aged, dismantled
+warship, which--anchored in the shallow water near Chatham,
+England,--swung to and fro in the eddying currents. Around him, upon
+the unwashed deck, scampered a swarm of little children, twelve in
+all, and all of them his own.
+
+"Very good, Father," spoke the curly-haired youngster. "I'll mind what
+you tell me. You're wrong, though, when you say that I cannot swim,
+for I can, even to yonder shore. Do you want to see me do it?"
+
+"Nay, nay," chuckled the stout seaman. "You're a boy of courage,
+Francis. That I can well see. But do not try the water. It is cold and
+you will have a cramp and go under. Stick to the quarter-deck." And
+laughing softly to himself, he went below, where a strong smell of
+cooking showed that there was something upon the galley stove to feed
+his hungry crew of youthful Englishmen.
+
+It was surely a strange house to bring up a troop of merry children
+in. The sound of wind and waves was familiar to them at night and they
+grew to be strong and fearless. But is not this the proper way to rear
+a sea-dog?
+
+These little ducklings, descended from a Drake, must have early set
+their hearts upon adventure and a seafaring life. In fact, one of
+them, young Francis, was to be one of the best known seamen of the
+centuries and knighted for his services to the Crown. Reared in a
+ship, he, by nature, loved the sea as only a child of the ocean could
+have done. The brine ran in his blood.
+
+Being the son of a poor man, he was apprenticed to a master of a small
+vessel which used to coast along the shore and carry merchandise to
+France and the Netherlands. He learned his business well. So well,
+indeed, that at the death of the master of the vessel it was
+bequeathed "to Francis Drake, because he was diligent and painstaking
+and pleased the old man, his master, by his industry." But the
+gallant, young sea-dog grew weary of the tiny barque.
+
+"It only creeps along the shore," he said. "I want to get out upon the
+ocean and see the world. I will therefore enlist with my stout
+kinsmen, the Hawkins brothers, rich merchants both, who build and sail
+their own ships."
+
+This he did, and thus began the roving life of Francis Drake:
+dare-devil and scourge of the West Indian waters.
+
+About fifty years before this lusty mariner had been born, America was
+discovered by Christopher Columbus--an Italian sailor in the service
+of Spain--and this powerful country had seized a great part of the new
+found land. There was no love lost between the Spaniards and the men
+from the cold, northern British Isles and thus Francis Drake spent his
+entire career battling with the black-haired, rapacious, and
+avaricious adventurers who flew the banner of King Philip of Arragon.
+Sometimes he was defeated, more often he was successful. Hark, then,
+to the tale of his many desperate encounters upon the wide waters of
+the surging Atlantic.
+
+Drake had said, "I'm going to sea with the Hawkins and view the
+world," and, as John Hawkins was just about to sail for the West
+Indies in six ships, the youthful and eager mariner was given an
+opportunity to command a vessel called the _Judith_. The fleet at
+first had good success. Slaves were captured upon the African coast
+and were sold in the West Indies, though with difficulty, because the
+Spaniards had been forbidden by their king to trade with the English.
+Laden with treasure and spices, the ships were about to start for
+home, when fearful storms beset them. Their beams were badly
+shattered.
+
+"We must seek a haven," cried Hawkins. "Ready about and steer for Vera
+Cruz, the port of the City of Mexico! There we can buy food and repair
+our fleet!"
+
+"'Tis well," cried his men, and, aiming for the sheltering harbor,
+they soon ploughed into the smooth water of the bay. But there was
+consternation among the Spaniards of the town.
+
+"We have treasure here," they whispered to each other. "See, those
+English dogs have come to rob us! We must fight, brothers, and fight
+hard to keep the cruel Islanders away." And they oiled their pistols
+and sharpened their cutlasses upon their grindstones.
+
+[Illustration: SIR FRANCIS DRAKE.]
+
+But luck was with the inhabitants of Vera Cruz. Next morning thirteen
+careening galleys swept into the quiet waters of the bay and joy
+shone in the black eyes of the Spaniards.
+
+"It is a Mexican fleet," cried they. "It returns with a new Viceroy or
+Governor, from good King Philip of Spain." And they laughed
+derisively.
+
+But in the breasts of Drake and Hawkins there was doubt and suspicion.
+
+"They are sure to attack us," said Hawkins, moving among his men. "Let
+every fellow be upon his guard."
+
+The Spanish were full of bowings and scrapings. They protested their
+deep friendship for the English and wished to be moored alongside.
+
+"We are very glad to see you, English brothers," said one. "We welcome
+you to the traffic and trade of the far East." So they peacefully
+dropped anchor near the suspicious men of England, still smiling,
+singing, and cheerfully waving a welcome to the none-too-happy
+sailors.
+
+"Avast," cried Francis Drake, "and sleep on your arms, my Hearties,
+for to-morrow there'll be trouble, or else my blood's not British." He
+was but a young man, yet he had guessed correctly.
+
+As the first glimmer of day shone in the dim horizon, a shot awoke the
+stillness of the morn. Another and another followed in rapid
+succession. Then _boom!_ a cannon roared, and a great iron ball buried
+itself in the decking of the _Jesus_; the flagship of gallant Hawkins.
+
+"We're attacked," cried Drake. "Man the decks! Up sails and steer to
+sea! Fight as you never fought before! Strike and strike hard for
+dear old England!"
+
+But his warning almost came too late, for two Spanish galleons ranged
+alongside and swung grappling irons into his rigging in order to close
+with the moving vessel. The Englishmen struck at them with oars and
+hand-spikes, knocking the tentacles of the on-coming octopus aside,
+and, with sails flying and shots rattling, the _Judith_ bore towards
+the open sea.
+
+The fight was now furious. Two of the English ships were sunk and the
+_Jesus_, Hawkins' own boat, was so badly damaged that she lay
+apparently helpless in the trough of the surging ocean.
+
+"Back, my Hearties," cried Drake, "and we'll see what we can do to
+save our gallant captain."
+
+So back they sailed, and, firing their little cannon with rapidity,
+soon held off the Spanish ship which threatened Hawkins himself with
+capture. Some of the English sailors jumped into their boats and rowed
+away, some gave in to the Spaniards, and some fought relentlessly.
+Thus raged the battle until the evening.
+
+As night fell, Drake ordered the _Judith_ to put to sea, Hawkins
+followed, and wandering about in these unknown parts, with little
+water and a scarcity of food, hunger forced the weary sailors to eat
+hides, cats, dogs, mice, rats, parrots and monkeys.
+
+"It was the troublesome voyage," wrote Hawkins, and such, indeed, it
+had proved to be. Some of the sailors asked to be placed on land
+rather than risk shipwreck and starvation in the overcrowded boat.
+Some of them reached England after years of suffering and weary
+journeying to and fro. Some were captured by the Spaniards and were
+put to death as heretics. A few were sent to the galleys as slaves.
+Others, more fortunate, were rowed ashore to serve in monasteries,
+where the monks made kind and gentle masters.
+
+And what of the youthful and danger-loving Drake? Five days before the
+wind-swept _Jesus_ struggled into Plymouth harbor with Hawkins and a
+famine-driven crew, Drake and his own adventurous Englishmen steered
+the little _Judith_ to the rocky headland which hides this sheltering
+refuge from the fury of the sea.
+
+"I am indeed right glad to reach Merrie England again," said he, "for
+we have had a rough and dangerous voyage. The Spaniards are
+treacherous dogs. They betrayed us, and henceforth I, for one, shall
+show them no quarter."
+
+So saying he journeyed to London to see the good Queen Elizabeth.
+
+"It is impossible for me to wage war upon Philip of Spain," said the
+valiant Mistress of England's destinies, when she heard his story of
+loss of kinsmen, friends and goods of great value. "I have a poor
+country. The navy of my fathers has been ruined. I have no proper army
+with which to avenge the treachery of Spain, and I have trouble with
+both France and Scotland. If you would have revenge, take matters into
+your own hands."
+
+"Philip is the mightiest monarch in the world to-day," answered the
+well-bronzed mariner, bowing low. "I am only a humble seafarer
+without either ships or money, but, most gracious Majesty, I am going
+to help myself in my quarrel with the King of Spain. From henceforth
+there will be war to the death between myself and the men of the
+south."
+
+The good Queen smiled, for she truly loved a valiant man.
+
+"May God be with you," said she.
+
+It was not long before the danger-loving mariner was again headed for
+the West Indies and the Spanish Main, with a crew of seventy-three men
+and boys.
+
+"We believe in our leader," said one. "He will take us on to fortune
+and to fame." And this was the sentiment of all, for who does not love
+a voyage after gold and treasure?
+
+Ploughing relentlessly across the deep, the two ships which carried
+these roving blades, reached the palm-clad West Indies in twenty-five
+days. All were cheerful and gay, for before them was danger,
+excitement, battle, and Spanish gold. "Lead on, Captain Drake," cried
+one of the men. "We wish to land at Plymouth with our pockets stuffed
+with Spanish dubloons."
+
+"I'll take you to the seaport of Nombre de Dios," said the bluff sea
+ranger. "There is gold and silver in this spot, and by the hogshead.
+Furthermore," he added chuckling, "most of it will be in the hold of
+our stout ships, the _Pascha_ and the _Swan_, before another moon."
+
+So the sailors were drilled in attack and sword play, while arms were
+distributed, which, up to now, had been kept "very fair and safe in
+good casks." All were in a cheerful mood, for the excitement of
+battle had begun to stir the hot blood in their veins.
+
+Late in the afternoon, the pinnaces (which had been carried on deck)
+were launched, and climbing aboard, the men of Merrie England set sail
+for the Spanish town. They lay under the shore, out of sight, until
+dark. Then they rowed with muffled oars to the shadows of the
+precipitous cliffs which here jutted into the rolling ocean, and
+quietly awaited the dawn.
+
+At three in the morning, while the silvery light of a half moon was
+just reddened with the first flush of dawn, the eager buccaneers
+landed upon the sandy beach. "Hark!" cried a youth, "We are already
+discovered."
+
+As he spoke, the noise of bells, drums, and shouting, came to the
+startled ears of the invaders.
+
+"Twelve men will remain behind to guard the pinnaces," cried Drake.
+"The rest must follow me and fight even to the last ditch. Forward!"
+
+Splitting into two bands, the Englishmen rushed through the narrow
+streets with a wild cheer ringing in the silent air. Drake's
+brother--with a certain John Oxenham and sixteen others--hurried
+around behind the King's treasure-house, and entered the eastern side
+of the market-place; while Drake, himself, marched up the main street
+with bugles blowing, drums rolling, and balls of lighted tow blazing
+from the end of long pikes carried by his stout retainers. The
+townsfolk were terrified with the din and blaze of fire. "An army is
+upon us," cried many. "We must flee for our lives."
+
+In spite of this, a goodly number rallied at the market-place, where
+there was a sharp fight. But nothing could withstand the onset of the
+men from the fog-swept island, and soon the Spaniards fled, leaving
+two behind who had been captured and held.
+
+"You must show us the Governor's house," cried Drake. "All the
+treasure is there."
+
+The two captives obeyed unwillingly, and great was the disappointment
+of the English when they found only bars of silver in the spacious
+mansion.
+
+"On! To the King's treasure-house!" again shouted the bold mariner.
+"There, at least, must be gold and jewels."
+
+In fact the English were furious with disappointment, for, as they
+reached the Governor's mansion (strongly built of lime and stone for
+the safe keeping of treasure) the eager pillagers rushed through the
+wide-open doorway. A candle stood lighted upon the top of the stairs.
+Before the threshold a horse stood champing his bit, as if recently
+saddled for the Governor, himself, while, by the flickering gleam of
+the taper, a huge glittering mass of silver bars was seen piled from
+floor to ceiling. That was all,--no caskets of gold or precious stones
+were to be seen.
+
+"Stand to your weapons, men!" cried Drake. "The town is full of
+people. Move carefully to the King's treasure-house which is near the
+waterside. There are more gold and jewels in that spot than all our
+pinnaces can carry."
+
+As the soldiers hurried where he led, a negro called Diego, rushed
+panting from the direction of the shore.
+
+"Marse Drake! Marse Drake!" he wailed. "De boats am surrounded by de
+Spanish. Dey will sholy be captured if you do not hurry back. Fo' de
+Lohd's sake, Massa, come down to de sho'."
+
+"My brother and John Oxenham will hasten to the shore," cried Drake.
+"Meanwhile, my Hearties, come batter down the doorway to this noble
+mansion. You are at the mouth of the greatest treasure-chest in the
+world."
+
+As the valiant captain spoke these words, he stepped forward to deal a
+blow, himself, at the stout door which shut him from the glittering
+riches. But suddenly he reeled and almost fell. Blood flowed in great
+quantities upon the sand, from a wound in his leg which he had
+received in the furious struggle within the market-place.
+
+"Come, Captain," cried one of his retainers, seizing him in his arms.
+"You must hasten to our pinnaces. What brooks this treasure to us when
+we lose you, for, if you live we can secure gold and silver enough at
+any time, but if you die we can find no more."
+
+"I fear me that I am grievously hurt," sadly spake the Captain. "Give
+me but a drink and then I think that I can reach our boats."
+
+A soldier stooped and bound his scarf about the wounded leg of the now
+weakened leader, and, bearing him aloft, the little band of
+adventurers turned toward the ocean side. They soon embarked, with
+many wounded besides the Captain, though none were slain save one
+trumpeter.
+
+Although the surgeons were kept busy in providing remedies and salves
+for the hurts of the soldiers, their main care was for the bold
+Francis Drake,--leader of this desperate expedition in quest of
+treasure.
+
+"If we lose you," cried a sailor, "we can scarce get home again. But
+while we enjoy your presence and have you in command of us, we can
+recover enough of wealth."
+
+"Before we left the harbor we took, with little trouble, a ship of
+wine for the greater comfort of our company," writes one of the stout
+soldiers in this brave affair. "And though they shot at us from the
+town we carried our prize to the Isle of Victuals. Here we cured our
+wounded men and refreshed ourselves in the goodly gardens which we
+found there abounding with great store of dainty roots and fruit.
+There were also great plenty of poultry and other fowls, no less
+strange and delicate."
+
+Although unsuccessful--as you see--the brave mariners were not
+daunted, and, after the wounded had recovered, a new expedition was
+determined upon, with the purpose of capturing one of the trains of
+mules which carried gold from Vera Cruz to Panama. Drake had been
+joined by numerous Maroons--negroes who had escaped from the Spaniards
+and had turned bandits--and these were quite willing and ready to aid
+him in the pursuit of treasure. But before the English marauders moved
+towards the interior, they attempted to attack Cartagena, the capital
+of the Spanish Main.
+
+Sailing into the harbor in front of this prosperous town, one evening,
+they found that the townsfolk had been well warned of their coming;
+they rang their bells and fired their cannon, while all of the
+soldiers ranged themselves before the ramparts.
+
+"Egad," cried Drake, with strange cheerfulness, in spite of his
+disappointment. "They're far too ready to receive us. We've got to
+withdraw."
+
+So they prowled around the mouth of the harbor, captured two ships,
+outward bound, and roared with laughter as they read a letter, written
+to warn all nearby citizens of "that terrible marauder, pirate, and
+butcher, Captain Drake."
+
+"The Spaniards carry no treasure by land during the rainy months,"
+said one of the natives. "You must wait for five full moons, if you
+wish to catch a mule train."
+
+"All right," said Captain Drake. "We'll fortify a place of
+refuge--explore--and await the propitious moment when we can hope for
+success."
+
+Thus they tarried patiently until they heard from the Maroons (who
+ranged the country up and down) that a large fleet had arrived from
+Spain at Nombre de Dios. This was glad news. Drake smiled as he heard
+it, and prepared immediately to make a land journey to Panama with
+forty-eight followers, carrying provisions, arms, and many pairs of
+shoes, because they were to cross several rivers of stone and gravel.
+
+The way lay between great palm trees and through cool and pleasant
+woods where the sturdy Englishmen were much encouraged when they heard
+that there stood a great tree, not far from where they were, from
+which one could see both the North Sea (Atlantic) from which they were
+journeying, and the South Sea (Pacific) towards which they were going.
+Finally--upon the fourth day--they came to a very steep hill, lying
+east and west like a ridge, and, at this point, Pedro--chief of the
+Maroons--took Drake by the hand, saying,
+
+"Follow me, O Captain, and I will show you two seas at once, for you
+are in the very centre of this country. Behold you stand in the heart
+of this fertile land."
+
+Looking before him, the lion-hearted adventurer saw a high tree in
+which had been cut many steps, so that one could climb to the top.
+Here was a convenient bower large enough for ten or twelve men to seat
+themselves. Then--without further ado--he and the chief Maroon
+clambered into the spreading branches and gazed across the nodding
+palm tops into the dim distance. It was a fair day, and, as the
+Maroons had felled certain trees so that the prospect might be more
+clear, upon the delighted vision of the Englishman burst the vista of
+the blue Atlantic and shimmering Pacific.
+
+"I pray Almighty God in all his goodness," cried out the adventurous
+Drake in loud tones of appreciation, "that I may have life and leave
+to sail but once an English ship in this mighty ocean of the West!"
+
+Then he called up the rest of the voyagers, and told them of his
+prayer and purpose.
+
+"I will follow you by God's grace!" cried John Oxenham, "unless you do
+not wish my company."
+
+Drake smiled good-humoredly, and, with a wave of his arm in the
+direction of the glistening waters, descended to the ground.
+
+"On, my hearties!" cried he, "and we'll soon bag a mule train with its
+panniers filled with gold."
+
+The men started forward, singing an old English ballad. As they walked
+through the high pampas grass, they began to get glimpses of Panama
+and the low-lying ships in the harbor. They kept silence and at length
+hid themselves in a grove near the high road from Panama to Nombre de
+Dios, while a negro was sent into the city as a spy.
+
+In the afternoon the faithful henchman returned.
+
+"A certain great man intends to go to Spain by the first ship," he
+said. "He is travelling towards Nombre de Dios this very night with
+his daughter and his family. He has fourteen mules, eight of which are
+laden with gold and one with jewelry. Two other trains of fifty mules
+each--burdened with food and little silver--will also come up this
+night."
+
+The English smiled, and, without more ado, marched to within two miles
+of Vera Cruz, where half of them lay down upon one side of the road,
+and half upon the other. They were screened by the tall grass; so
+well, indeed, that no eye could see them, and in an hour's time, to
+their eager ears came the sound of mule trains passing to and fro near
+Vera Cruz, where trade was lively because of the presence of the
+Spanish fleet. All was propitious for a successful attack.
+
+But misfortune seemed always to follow the bold and adventurous
+Drake. As mischance would have it, one of his men called Robert Pike,
+who had "drunk too much brandy without water," was lying close to the
+roadway by the side of a grinning Maroon, and, when a well-mounted
+cavalier from Vera Cruz rode by--with his page running at his
+stirrup--he rose up to peer at him, even though his companion pulled
+him down in the endeavor to hide his burly form.
+
+"Sacre Nom de Dieu," cried the traveller. "It is a white man! An
+Englishman!" and, putting spurs to his horse, he rode away at a
+furious gallop in order to warn others of the highwayman's position.
+
+The ground was hard and the night was still. As Captain Drake heard
+the gentleman's trot change into a gallop, he uttered a round British
+oath.
+
+"Discovered," he muttered, "but by whose fault I know not. We'll await
+the other trains and mayhap we'll have some booty yet."
+
+The gentleman, in fact, warned the Treasurer, who, fearing that
+Captain Drake had wandered to this hidden thicket, turned his train of
+mules aside and let the others--who were behind him--pass on. Thus, by
+recklessness of one of the company, a rich booty was lost, but--as an
+Englishman has well said, "We thought that God would not let it be
+taken, for likely it was well gotten by that Treasurer."
+
+There was no use repining, for soon a tinkling of bells and tread of
+hoofs came to the eager ears of the adventurers, and, through the long
+pampas grass ambled the other two mule trains--their drivers snapping
+the whips with little thought of the lurking danger. In a moment they
+were between the English and hidden Maroons, who--with a wild
+cheer--dashed upon them, surrounded them, and easily held them in
+their power. Two horse loads of silver was the prize for all this
+trouble and hard travel.
+
+"I never grieve over things past," cried Drake. "We must now march
+home by the shortest route. It is certainly provoking that we lost the
+mule train of gold, particularly as we were betrayed by one of our own
+men. Come, soldiers, turn about and retreat to our good ships."
+
+Half satisfied but cheerful, the soldiers and Maroons turned towards
+the coast, and, as they neared Vera Cruz, the infantrymen of the town
+swarmed outside to attack the hated men of Merrie England, with cries
+of, "Surrender! Surrender!"
+
+Drake looked at them scornfully, replying,
+
+"An Englishman never surrenders!"
+
+At this a volley rang out and one of the intrepid adventurers was "so
+powdered with hail-shot that he could not recover his life, although
+he continued all that day with Drake's men." But stout Francis blew
+his whistle--the signal for attack--and, with a wild cry, the Maroons
+and English rushed for the black-haired and sallow-skinned defenders
+of the town. "Yo Peho! Yo Peho!" wailed the half-crazed natives as
+they leaped high in the air, and encouraged by the presence of the
+English, they broke through the thickets at the town's end and forced
+the enemy to fly, while the now terrified Spanish scurried pell mell
+down the coast. Several of Drake's followers were wounded, and one
+Maroon was run through with a pike, but his courage was so great that
+he revenged his own death ere he died, by slaying a Spaniard who
+opposed him.
+
+At sunrise the land pirates continued their journey, carrying some
+plunder from Vera Cruz. Some of the men fainted with weakness, but two
+Maroons would carry them along until they could again walk, and
+thus--struggling, cursing and singing--the party of weary and
+disappointed marauders neared the place where they had left their
+ship. A messenger was sent forward with a golden toothpick to those
+left behind upon the vessel and a request that the ship be brought
+into the narrow channel of a certain river. It was done, and when at
+last the weary plunderers reached the shore, they gave a mighty cheer
+as they saw the white, bellying sails of their staunch, English
+vessel. Their journey for pelf and jewels had been a failure.
+
+This did not discourage the lion-hearted Drake, who declared, with a
+smile, "We'll yet catch a mule train, boys, and one in which the
+panniers are filled with sufficient gold to sink our good ship. Keep
+your hearts bright and I'll gain you enough of treasure to house you
+in peace and comfort in your old age. Remember--'Fortune favors the
+brave!'" He had spoken with truth.
+
+Not long afterwards a French captain appeared, whose men were only too
+eager for a little journey ashore after golden mule trains and battle.
+So a party was made up of twenty Frenchmen, fifteen Englishmen, and
+some Maroons, who sailed with a frigate and two pinnaces, towards a
+river called Rio Francisco--to the west of Nombre de Dios. They
+landed, struck inland, and were soon near the high road from Panama to
+Nombre de Dios, where mule trains passed daily--some with food and
+merchandise--a few with golden ingots and bars of silver.
+
+In silence they marched along and spent the night about a mile from
+the road, where they could plainly hear the carpenters working on
+their ships--which they did at night because of the fierce, torrid sun
+during the day. Next morning--the first of April, but not an April
+Fool's day by any means--they heard such a number of bells that the
+Maroons began to chuckle and say, "You will have much gold. Yo Peho!
+Yo Peho! This time we will all be rich!"
+
+Suddenly three mule trains came to view, one of fifty long-eared
+beasts of burden; two of seventy each, with every animal carrying
+three hundred pounds weight of silver, amounting to nearly thirty
+tons. The sight seemed almost too good to be true. With a wild shout
+the ambuscaders leaped from their hiding places to rush frantically
+upon the startled drivers. In a few moments the train was in
+possession of Drake and his French and half-negro associates, who
+chuckled and grunted like peccaries.
+
+The leading mules were taken by the heads and all the rest lay down,
+as they always do when stopped. The fifteen soldiers who guarded each
+train were routed, but not before they had wounded the French captain
+most severely and had slain one of the Maroons. Silver bars and gold
+ingots were there aplenty. They were seized and carried off, while,
+what was not transported, was buried in the earthen burrows made by
+the great land crabs under fallen trees, and in the sand and gravel of
+a shallow river.
+
+"And now for home," cried a valorous sea farer, after a party had
+returned with a portion of the buried treasure, which was divided
+equally between the French and the English. Much of that left in the
+sand crab holes had been discovered by the Spaniards--but not all.
+Thirteen bars of silver and a few quoits of gold had rewarded the
+search of the expectant voyageurs.
+
+"Yes," cried all. "Sails aloft for Merrie England!" So, spreading
+canvas, the bold adventurers were soon headed for the foggy and misty
+isle from which they had come. On Sunday, August ninth, 1573--just
+about sermon time--they dropped anchor in the peaceful harbor of
+Plymouth.
+
+"And the news of the Captain's return brought unto his people, did so
+speedily pass over all the church, and fill the minds of the
+congregation with delight and desire to see him, that very few, or
+none, remained with the preacher. All hastened to see the evidence of
+God's love and blessing towards the gracious Queen and country, by the
+fruit of the gallant mariner's labor and success."
+
+"To God alone," spake an humble citizen of Plymouth, "be the Glory."
+
+[Illustration: DRAKE'S GREATEST VICTORY ON THE SPANISH MAIN.
+    (The surrender of Don Anton to Sir Francis Drake, March 1, 1579.)]
+
+And all echoed these pious sentiments, in spite of the fact that
+Drake was a robber, a pirate, and a buccaneer. But was he not their
+own countryman?
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The scene now changes. It is a gray day at Plymouth and anxious faces
+peer into the street from the windows of the low, tiled houses. A
+crowd has collected upon the jutting cliffs and all gaze with eager
+eyes towards the ocean. Men speak in hushed and subdued voices, for
+there is trouble in the air.
+
+Among the knots of keen-eyed English there is one small party which
+seems to be as joyous as a lot of school-boys. Five men are playing at
+bowls, and one of them is stout, and well knit, and swarthy visaged
+with long exposure to the elements. He is laughing uproariously, when
+a lean fellow comes running from the very edge of those beetling
+cliffs which jut far out into the gray, green Atlantic.
+
+"Hark'ee, Captain Drake!" he cries. "Ships are in the offing, and many
+of them too! It must be the fleet of Philip of Spain come to ravage
+our beauteous country!"
+
+"Ah, indeed," answers the staunch-figured captain, without looking up.
+"Then let me have one last shot, I pray thee, before I go to meet
+them."
+
+And so saying, he calmly tosses another ball upon the greensward,
+knocks aside the wooden pins, then smiling, turns and strides towards
+the waterside.
+
+Thus Drake--the lion-hearted--goes out to battle with the great Armada
+of Philip of Spain, with a smile upon his lips, and full confidence in
+his ability to defeat the Spaniards at home as well as on the Spanish
+Main. Let us see how he fared?
+
+Smarting with keen anger at Drake and his successful attacks upon his
+western possessions, Philip--the powerful monarch of Spain--determined
+to gather a great fleet together and to invade England with a mighty
+army.
+
+"That rascally pirate has beaten me at Cadiz, at Cartagena, and at
+Lisbon," the irate king had roared, with no show of composure. "Now I
+will sail against him and crush this buccaneer, so that he and his
+kind can never rise again."
+
+A mighty fleet of heavy ships--the Armada--was not ready to sail until
+July, 1588, and the months before this had been well spent by the
+English in preparation for defense, for they knew of the full
+intention of their southern enemy. Shipwrights worked day and night.
+The clamoring dockyards hummed with excitement, while Good Queen Bess
+and her Ministers of State wrote defiant letters to the missives from
+the Spanish crown. The cold blood of the English--always quite
+lukewarm in their misty, moisty isle--had begun to boil with vigor.
+The Britons would fight valiantly.
+
+As the lumbering galleons neared the English coast, a heavy mist which
+hid them, blew away, and the men of England saw the glimmering water
+fairly black with the wooden vultures of old Spain. The Spaniards had
+come ready to fight in the way in which they had won many a brilliant
+victory; with a horde of towering hulks, of double-deckers and
+store-ships manned by slaves and yellow-skinned retainers, who
+despised big guns and loved a close encounter with hand thrusts and
+push of pike. Like a huge, wooden octopus this arrogant fleet of
+Arragon moved its tentacles around the saucy, new-made pinnaces of the
+tight little isle.
+
+"The boats of the English were very nimble and of good steerage,"
+writes a Spaniard, "so that the English did with them as they desired.
+And our ships being very heavy compared with the lightness of those of
+the enemy, it was impossible to come to hand-stroke with them."
+
+This tells the whole story. With a light wind astern--the war ships of
+the English bore down easily upon the heavy-bottomed Spanish galleons
+and fired their guns at the hulls of the enemy.
+
+"Don't waste your balls upon the rigging," cried Drake through a
+trumpet. "Sight low and sink 'em if you can. But keep away from the
+grappling hooks so's not to let 'em get hold of you. If they once
+do--you're lost!"
+
+Now was the sound of splitting of boards, as the solid shot pumped
+great holes in the sides of the high rocking galleons. Dense clouds of
+vapor hung over the struggling combatants--partly from a sea fog which
+the July sun had not thoroughly burned away, and partly from the
+spitting mouths of the cannon. Fire burst from the decks, the roar of
+the guns was intermingled with the shrill wails of the slaves, the
+guttural cries of the seamen, the screams of the wounded and the
+derisive howls of those maddened by battle. The decks were crimson
+with blood; sails split and tore as the chain-shot hummed through the
+rigging, and the sharp twang of the arquebusques was mingled with the
+crash of long-barrelled muskets.
+
+No men can fight like those who are defending their own homes. At
+Gettysburg, the Army of the Potomac--twice beaten in an attack upon
+the South in the enemy's country--struggled as it had never done
+before,--and won. It had nowhere battled as when the foe was pushing
+it back upon its own soil and cities.
+
+So here--no fighters ever bled as did the English when the greedy
+hands of Spain were clutching at their shores. The light ships hung
+near the Spaniards at a distance and did not board until spars were
+down and the great rakish hulls were part helpless. Then--with a wild
+cheer--the little galleons--often two at a time--would grapple with
+the enemy and board--cutlasses swinging, pistols spitting, and
+hand-spikes hewing a way through the struggling, yellow-faced ruffians
+of Philip of Arragon.
+
+While the awful battle raged, fire ships were prepared on shore and
+sent down upon the Spanish fleet, burning fiercely and painting the
+skyline with red. Some of the large vessels had anchored, and, as
+these terrors approached, they slipped their cables in order to
+escape. Confusion beset the ranks of the boastful foe and cheered on
+the British bull-dogs to renewed exertions.
+
+At six in the evening a mighty cry welled from the British boats.
+"They fly! They fly!" sounded above the ruck and roar of battle.
+
+Yes--it was the truth. Beaten and dismayed, the Spanish fleet bore
+away to the North, while the English--in spite of the fact that their
+powder was wet, and nearly all spent--"gave them chase as if they
+lacked nothing, until they had cleared their own coast and some part
+of Scotland of them." The Armada--split, part helpless--drifted away
+from Plymouth, and wild cheers of joy came from the deck of the vessel
+which carried bold Sir Francis Drake. The great battle had been won.
+
+So crippled were many of the Spanish hulks that they were wrecked in
+stormy weather, off the coast of Scotland and Ireland. Not half of
+those who put to sea ever reached Spain again. Many sailors were
+drowned, or perished miserably by the hands of the natives of the
+coast, and some who escaped were put to death by the Queen's orders.
+Fever and sickness broke out in the English ships and the followers of
+bold Drake died by hundreds, "sickening one day and perishing the
+next."
+
+The English vessels, themselves, were in a bad way--they had to be
+disinfected and the men put ashore--where the report of the many
+wrecks and the massacre of Spanish soldiers, eased the anxiety of the
+once terrified inhabitants of the tight little isle, and made it
+certain that the Armada would never return. Drake and his bold seamen
+had saved the people of Merrie England. Again hats off to this pirate
+of the Spanish Main!
+
+Safely settled in Buckland Abbey, knighted, honored, respected--the
+hero of the defense of England--one would think that Drake would have
+remained peacefully at home to die "with his boots on." But not so.
+The spirit of adventure called to him with irresistible force, and
+again he set out for the Spanish Main. He had sailed around the world
+before his grapple with the Armada; he had harassed the Spaniard in an
+expedition to Lisbon; he was the idol of the English. He had done
+enough--you say. Yes, he had done enough--but--like all men who love
+the game of life he wished to have just one more expedition in search
+of gold and adventure, for--by nature he was a gambler, and he was
+throwing the dice with Fate.
+
+So a goodly crew sailed with him again, hoping for another raid upon
+mule trains and cities of treasure. But alas! There was to be a
+different story from the others. All the towns and hamlets of the
+Spanish Main had been warned to "be careful and look well to
+themselves, for that Drake and Hawkins were making ready in England to
+come upon them." And when the English arrived they found stout defense
+and valiant men, nor was a sail seen "worth giving chase unto."
+Hawkins died, many grew ill of fever, and finally Drake, himself,
+succumbed to the malarial atmosphere of Panama. He was to remain where
+gold and adventure had first lured him.
+
+On January the twenty-eighth, 1596, the great captain yielded up his
+spirit "like a Christian, quietly in his cabin." And a league from the
+shore of Porto Rico, the mighty rover of the seas was placed in a
+weighted hammock and tossed into the sobbing ocean. The spume frothed
+above the eddying current, sucked downward by the emaciated form of
+the famous mariner, and a solitary gull shrieked cruelly above the
+bubbles, below which--upon beads of coral and clean sand--rested the
+body of Sir Francis Drake, rover, rogue, and rattling sea ranger. It
+was his last journey.
+
+
+    "Weep for this soul, who, in fathoms of azure,
+    Lies where the wild tarpon breaks through the foam,
+    Where the sea otter mews to its brood in the ripples,
+    As the pelican wings near the palm-forest gloom.
+    Ghosts of the buccaneers flit through the branches,
+    Dusky and dim in the shadows of eve,
+    While shrill screams the parrot,--the lord of Potanches,
+    'Drake, Captain Drake, you've had your last leave.'"
+
+
+
+
+SEA IRONY
+
+
+    One day I saw a ship upon the sands
+    Careened upon beam ends, her tilted deck
+    Swept clear of rubbish of her long-past wreck;
+    Her colors struck, but not by human hands;
+    Her masts the driftwood of what distant strands!
+    Her frowning ports, where, at the Admiral's beck,
+    Grim-visaged cannon held the foe in check,
+    Gaped for the frolic of the minnow bands.
+    The seaweed banners in her fo'ks'le waved,
+    A turtle basked upon her capstan head;
+    Her cabin's pomp the clownish sculpin braved,
+    And, on her prow, where the lost figure-head
+    Once turned the brine, a name forgot was graved,
+    It was "The Irresistible" I read.
+
+                    --HEATON.
+
+
+
+
+SIR WALTER RALEIGH
+
+PERSECUTOR OF THE SPANIARDS
+
+(1552-1618)
+
+
+    "All great men have lived by hope."--JAMES FREEMAN
+    CLARKE.
+
+
+[Illustration: YOUNG RALEIGH AND A COMPANION LISTENING TO TALES OF
+THE SPANISH MAIN.]
+
+
+SIR WALTER RALEIGH
+
+PERSECUTOR OF THE SPANIARDS
+
+(1552-1618)
+
+    "When the sobbing sea is squally,
+    Then,--look out for Walter Raleigh!
+    He's the fellow whom Queen Bess is said to love.
+    He's a reckless, handsome sailor,
+    With a 'Vandyke' like a tailor,
+    He can coo fond words of loving like a dove.
+    Faith! I like this gallant rover,
+    Who has ploughed the wild seas over,
+    Who has passed the grim and wild equator's ring.
+    And I cheer, whene'er I view him,
+    For--my Boy--off Spain I knew him
+    When he trimmed the Spanish cruisers, like a King."
+
+                    --_Chant of the Plymouth Dock-Hand._
+
+
+Boys! You have all heard about the _Square Deal_. Well--Here is the
+story of a man who didn't get one.
+
+Walter Raleigh was a brave man; he was an able seafarer; his younger
+manhood was spent in the midst of the most brilliant Royal Court which
+England has known. He proved his courage and military prowess in more
+than one bitterly contested battle-field and naval conflict. His love
+of his own land and his hatred of his enemies was ardent.
+
+He was also a fellow of wit, and, as an author, took rank with the
+great literary lights of the Elizabethan Age. He was an adventurer,
+and, in middle life, as well as in old age, braved the great deep and
+perils of savage lands in the magnificent attempt to make discoveries
+and to settle English colonies in the New World. Chivalrous in actions
+and feeling; of handsome person; graceful manners and courtly address;
+it is no wonder that he had a host of enemies: those fellows who
+couldn't do anything worth while themselves, and wanted to "pull the
+other fellow down." There are plenty of them around, to-day, doing the
+same thing in the same, old way.
+
+As an Englishman he loved England to such an extent, that--upon the
+return from one of his numerous voyages--he dropped upon one knee and
+kissed the sand.
+
+"My men," said he to his followers, "I love this land as nothing else
+on earth!"
+
+The hostility of his rivals subjected him to harsh ill treatment. It
+did not dampen his love for England.
+
+The silly caprices of Queen Elizabeth, who--like most women--was
+swayed, not by her reason, but by her sentiments, made him suffer
+imprisonment. Yet, it did not dampen his love for England.
+
+The terrible and bitter dislike of King James--who succeeded the
+Virgin Queen--finally led to his trial for treason; his execution; and
+his death.
+
+Yet, it did not dampen his love for England.
+
+If England can produce men of such a mold, nowadays, she will continue
+to be a mighty world power.
+
+Do you think that _you_ could be as patriotic as Sir Walter Raleigh?
+Particularly if _you_ were treated as _he_ was treated? Think it over!
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+One day, the ancient palace of Greenwich, which stood on the banks of
+the Thames--a few miles below London--presented a lively and brilliant
+scene. Courtiers, arrayed in gorgeous colors and glittering ornaments,
+walked about, chattering gaily,--like a flock of sparrows. Fine, young
+cavaliers were there, attired in rich velvets, sparkling with gems,
+armed with gold-hilted swords. Grave statesmen wandered around,--with
+beards as white as their ruffles. Stately dames, with heavy and gaily
+trimmed trains, peered at the beautiful belles, and said:
+
+"My, isn't she a fright!" or
+
+"Goodness, what _dreadful_ manners the Duchess so-and-so has!"
+
+Just as they do to-day. Times do not change.
+
+Trumpets blared a fan-fa-rade and lines of soldiers gave forth
+inspiriting sounds, with many musical instruments. There was a stir
+and flutter in the crowd; and some one called out:
+
+"She's coming! Hats off to the Queen!"
+
+So all the men took off their hats,--for they were courtiers, and it
+was their business to do so, whenever Her Royal Highness came around.
+Many of them didn't like to do it but if they hadn't done so, some spy
+would have cried out "Treason!" And they would have been hustled off
+to the Tower. You _just bet_ they took off their hats!
+
+Descending the broad flight of steps, with proud and majestic mien,
+the tall and slender figure of Elizabeth--the maiden Queen of
+England--was seen approaching.
+
+She was then in the mature ripeness of middle age, but she still
+preserved not a few remnants of the beauty of her youth. Her form was
+straight and well proportioned. Her large, blue eyes were yet bright
+and expressive; her complexion was still wonderfully fair and smooth.
+Her well arranged hair was luxuriant and was of a light red. A large,
+fan-like collar of richest lace rose from her slender neck, above her
+head behind; and her tresses were combed high from her forehead.
+Jewels blazed from her dress. Her attire was far more splendid than
+that of any of the ladies of her court.
+
+As it happened, a heavy shower had just passed over, and little
+puddles of water stood all around upon the gravelled paths. Bursting
+through the fast-vanishing clouds, the sun cast its rays upon the
+trees still dripping with glittering drops; and upon the smiling
+Queen, who--surrounded by a gay group of courtiers--set forth upon a
+promenade through the park. She chatted affably with all. They tried
+to make themselves as agreeable as possible, for he who was most
+agreeable received the best plums from the Royal Tree. Politics
+haven't changed any since that day.
+
+The Queen walked on, playing with a beautiful, white greyhound, and,
+pretty soon she came to a muddy spot in the path.
+
+"Zounds!" said she (or it may have been something stronger, for
+historians say that she could "swear valiantly"). "Zounds! Now I will
+spoil my pretty shoes!"
+
+"And also your pretty feet," interjected a courtier. He received a
+smile for this compliment and the Queen mentally made a note of
+it,--for future use in the distribution of Court Favors.
+
+She hesitated, looked around aimlessly, and stood still.
+
+At this instant a young noble--six feet tall and elegantly
+attired--stepped forward; and, throwing aside his richly embroidered
+cloak, spread it over the muddy pool.
+
+"Prithee, pass onward!" said he, bowing low.
+
+Elizabeth was delighted.
+
+"Good Walter Raleigh," said she, smiling. "You are truly a gallant
+knight!" And she tripped gaily across the embroidered mantlet. "I will
+reward you right well for this!"
+
+But the courtiers, the Ladies, and the Statesmen glanced with
+undisguised envy at the young gallant who had so readily pleased their
+Mistress; and they scowled at him as Elizabeth kept him at her side
+during the rest of her promenade. "The Beggar's outdone us all!" said
+one. "Down with him!"
+
+But they could not down Sir Walter just then. After awhile they had
+"their innings."
+
+Rough, vain, whimsical Queen Bess was fond of handsome, and especially
+of witty and eloquent young men. She grew more attached to Sir Walter
+Raleigh every day. He rapidly rose in power and influence, and, as a
+poet, became well known. His verses were read in the luxurious halls
+of the palace with exclamations of delight, while the tales of his
+military exploits were eagerly repeated from mouth to mouth; for
+Raleigh had fought valiantly in France and had helped to suppress an
+insurrection in Ireland.
+
+And still the jealous courtiers murmured among themselves.
+
+Raleigh was appointed "Warden of the Stanneries," or mines, in
+Cornwall and Devonshire, from which he derived, each year, a large
+income. He was made Captain of the Queen's Guard. He was created Lord
+Lieutenant of Cornwall and Vice-Admiral of Devon. He received vast
+estates in Ireland and many privileges and licenses, so that he was
+fast becoming a rich man. He was splendid and extravagant in his
+dress. He grew arrogant. He had, in fact, "too much Ego in his
+Cosmos."
+
+So, the jealous courtiers continued to murmur among themselves.
+
+Elizabeth was fickle as well as sentimental. Her fancy passed lightly
+from one gallant to another. For some time Leicester (who had once
+been her sole favorite, and who desired to regain his position) had
+been growing jealous of Raleigh's ascendency; and he had been
+delighted to see that Queen Bess had taken a violent fancy to the
+impetuous Earl of Essex. A quarrel took place between Raleigh and the
+Ruler of England. He was affronted before the whole court and retired
+to his chambers, overwhelmed with grief.
+
+[Illustration: SIR WALTER RALEIGH.]
+
+And all the jealous courtiers punched each other beneath the ribs,
+and laughed "Ha! Ha! Ha! What did we tell you?"
+
+It took the "Ego" out of Raleigh's "Cosmos."
+
+But the gallant courtier had a half-brother--Sir Humphrey Gilbert--who
+had just returned from a voyage around the world in the good ship
+_Golden Hind_.
+
+"Let's fit out a small fleet," said he to Raleigh, "and establish an
+English colony in Newfoundland."
+
+"I'm with you," cried Sir Walter. "We'll found another England in far
+distant America! On with it!"
+
+Thus, an expedition of five ships sailed from Plymouth, in the early
+summer of 1583. Sir Humphrey boarded the _Squirrel_, and bade his
+kinsman an affectionate adieu.
+
+"You must remain behind," said he, "and regain our position at court!"
+
+"That I will endeavor to do," answered Raleigh. "Good luck and God
+speed."
+
+The expedition was a failure from the start. Scarcely had the shallops
+gone to sea, than one of them--the _Raleigh_--deserted its companions
+and put back. The rest reached Newfoundland, but the men were lawless
+and insubordinate.
+
+"This is the Deuce of a cold place for a colony," they said. "Home to
+Merrie England!"
+
+Gilbert was forced to yield to their angry demands, and re-embarked.
+
+"Don't sail in that rattle-trap of a _Squirrel_," said his officers to
+him. "She'll founder!"
+
+But Sir Humphrey had that obstinacy which characterized General
+Braddock.
+
+"No: I will not forsake the little company, going homeward," said he.
+"I'll stick to my ship."
+
+He stuck--and--when they hailed him one stormy night, he said:
+
+"Be of good cheer, my friends: we are as near to Heaven by sea as by
+land!"
+
+That night the _Squirrel_ was sailing a little in advance of the other
+ships, and, as those on board the _Golden Hind_ watched the frail
+barque, they saw her lurch, heave, and then sink from view. Thus the
+soul of brave Raleigh's kinsman found a watery grave. He had paid for
+his obstinacy with his life.
+
+Raleigh was overwhelmed with grief when he learned of the death of his
+heroic half-brother.
+
+"I'll yet found my Colony," said he. "And I'll go myself."
+
+This pleased the jealous courtiers more than ever, for they would now
+have him out of the way for all time.
+
+With his ample wealth, the indefatigable adventurer found no
+difficulty in fitting out an expedition, and, in the year after the
+death of Sir Humphrey Gilbert, he sent forth two vessels to explore
+the coast of the Carolinas.
+
+"I'm going to stay at home and face my enemies!" said the gay blade.
+"Again good luck and God Speed!"
+
+They had a fortunate voyage, and, when they returned, the Captains
+told of the beautiful harbors, fine rivers, magnificent forests and
+abundance of game. The Queen was delighted, and at once named the
+fair country for herself, with characteristic egotism. That men might
+know that this fruitful land was explored in the time of the Virgin
+Queen, it was called "Virginia." Raleigh was wild with delight.
+
+And the jealous courtiers looked dejected and sad.
+
+A fleet of seven vessels--with one hundred colonists--was now sent to
+Virginia, under the command of one Grenville, who was eager to become
+suddenly rich: a disease as common now as in those venturous days. No
+sooner had the people landed, than they began to treat the savages
+with such harshness and rapacity--that they had to gain their own
+food, as the natives would have nothing to do with them. Dissensions
+tore the little community into shreds. So they were only too glad to
+return with the gallant old sea-dog, Sir Francis Drake, when he
+happened that way, with a large amount of booty which he had just
+taken from the Spaniards in the southern seas.
+
+Another expedition was sent over by Raleigh; and yet another. They
+were failures. But there was one, single thing which was not a
+failure. This was the discovery of a herb called "Yppowoc," or
+tobacco, the leaves of which--when dried--were smoked by the natives
+in long pipes.
+
+Curious Sir Walter had a jeweller in London make him a silver pipe,
+after the fashion of those used by the native Virginians. In this he
+began to smoke the tobacco, and soon grew to like it very much; so
+much, indeed, that he was scarcely ever without this comforter, when
+enjoying the quiet of his home.
+
+One day he was sitting cosily by his fire with his Long Nine in his
+mouth, and the smoke was curling gracefully over his head. Just as he
+was puffing out a particularly thick cloud, one of his servants
+happened to enter the room with a tankard of ale, for the luncheon
+table.
+
+"Ye Gods!" cried he. "My Master's on fire!"
+
+_Swash!!_
+
+Over Sir Walter's head went the ale, and the frightened lackey dashed
+down the steps.
+
+"H-e-l-p! H-e-l-p!" cried he. "My Master is burning up! H-e-l-p!"
+
+But Sir Walter did not burn up this time. Instead he near split his
+gallant sides with laughing.
+
+Now, Boys, don't smile! 'Tis said that good old Queen Bess tried,
+herself, to smoke a Long Nine. But--hush--"she became so dizzy and ill
+from the effects that she never ventured upon the experiment again!"
+(Keep this quiet! Very quiet! Will you!)
+
+On one occasion she was watching Sir Walter blowing circles of smoke
+over his head, and said to him--
+
+"Zounds! (or something stronger) Sir Walter! You are a witty man; but
+I will wager that you cannot tell me the weight of the smoke which
+comes from your pipe!"
+
+"I can, indeed," was the confident reply of the gallant courtier.
+"Watch me closely!"
+
+At once he took as much tobacco as would fill his pipe and exactly
+weighed it. Having then smoked it up, he--in like manner--weighed the
+ashes.
+
+"Now, Your Majesty," said he, smiling. "The difference between these
+two weights is the weight of the smoke."
+
+And again Queen Bess remarked "Zounds!" (or Eftsoons!). At any rate,
+she paid the wager, for--with all her frailties--she was a Good Loser.
+
+Raleigh, in fact, shortly became reinstated in Royal favor, and, when
+he aided Drake and Hawkins--soon afterwards--in dispersing the
+Invincible Armada, he was again in the good graces of his sovereign.
+
+There was, however, a pretty, young Maid-of-Honor at court, called
+Elizabeth Throgmorton, and no sooner had the bright eyes of Sir Walter
+fallen upon her, than he fell in love. In paying court to this amiable
+lady he was compelled to use great caution and secrecy, for jealous
+Queen Bess watched him narrowly, and with suspicion. In spite of her
+preference for Essex, Elizabeth was quite unwilling that Raleigh--her
+less favored lover--should transfer his affections to another. So, in
+making love to Elizabeth Throgmorton, the gay courtier was compelled
+to use the utmost care.
+
+But Murder (or Love) will out!
+
+It chanced one day, that the Queen discovered what was going on
+between her Maid-of-Honor and the cavalier. Her rage knew no bounds.
+She berated Raleigh before her ladies, and forbade him to come to
+court. She fiercely commanded the Maid-of-Honor to remain a prisoner
+in her room, and, on no account to see Raleigh again. So the venturous
+Knight turned his attention once more to wild roving upon the sea.
+
+Now the jealous courtiers fairly chuckled with glee. "Ha! Ha! Ha!"
+laughed they. "Ho! Ho! Ho! He! He! He!"
+
+But Sir Walter engaged very actively in fitting out some squadrons to
+attack the Spanish ships.
+
+"Egad! I hate a Spaniard!" he said. "They are my country's special
+enemies and I intend to do them all the harm that I can!"
+
+The Queen was glad enough to separate him from his lady love and not
+only consented to his project, but promised to aid him in it. Ere long
+fifteen vessels were anchored in the Thames--all ready to sail--but,
+before he set out, the gallant commander made up his mind that he
+would marry his beloved Maid-of-Honor. It was not difficult to find a
+clergyman who would splice him tighter than he ever spliced a rope
+aboard ship. The deed was done. He set sail. All was going
+propitiously.
+
+"I'll attack the Spanish ships in the harbor of Seville," said
+Raleigh. "Then--off to the Spanish Main and sack the town of Panama."
+He laughed,--but what was that?
+
+Rapidly approaching from the coast of England came a swift pinnace. It
+gained upon the squadron in spite of the fact that all sail was
+hoisted, and, at last came near enough to give Raleigh a signal to
+"Heave to." In a few moments her commander climbed aboard.
+
+"The Queen has changed her mind about your expedition," said he. "She
+has sent me--Sir Martin Frobisher--to tell you to come home."
+
+Raleigh said things which made the air as blue as the sea, but he put
+back--for he could not disobey the Royal command. He was soon at
+court.
+
+The Queen was furious with anger.
+
+"You have disobeyed my commands," said she. "I find you have secretly
+married my Maid-of-Honor. To the Tower with you! To the dungeons of
+the Tower!"
+
+And all the jealous courtiers were so happy that they danced a can-can
+in the ante chamber.
+
+What do you think of this? Thrown into prison because he loved a Maid
+and married her! Nowadays "all the World loves a Lover." In those
+times all the world _might_ have "loved a Lover" except Queen
+Bess,--and a number of courtiers hanging around within easy call:
+_They_ kicked a Lover. And then they all got together and said:
+
+"Fine! Fine! Now we've got him where he ought to be. Ha! Ha! Ha! Ho!
+Ho! Ho!"
+
+But women relent; that is one of their chief characteristics. Queen
+Bess softened, grew lukewarm, finally became molten.
+
+"Sir Walter Raleigh can go free," said she.
+
+The gallant courtier returned to his country estate, where--with his
+wife and children he enjoyed the luxuries and comforts of country
+life. And the jealous courtiers began to look strangely sober.
+
+Still the sea called. The sea sang its old song, and, fired with the
+spirit of adventure, Sir Walter decided upon another expedition: this
+time to the coast of Guiana, in South America, where, it was said,
+"billets of gold lay about in heaps, as if they were logs of wood
+marked out to burn." With a large fleet at his command he soon started
+upon this expedition for plunder and for fame. This time no Sir Martin
+Frobisher sailed after him to bring him back to a dungeon in the Tower
+and he was able to reach his destination.
+
+The expedition was a howling success. Whenever and wherever Sir Walter
+could inflict injury on the Spaniards, whom he so bitterly detested,
+he did so with eagerness. A Spanish ship was soon seen, chased,
+and--after a brief, hot fight--surrendered and was boarded.
+
+"Egad!" cried Raleigh. "Here's luck, for the cargo's of fire arms.
+I'll stow them away in my own vessel and let the captive go!"
+
+Proceeding on his voyage, he not long afterwards encountered and
+captured another prize; a Flemish ship sailing homeward with a cargo
+of fine wine. Twenty hogsheads were transferred to the hold of
+Raleigh's ship and the captured craft was allowed to sail on,--empty.
+
+Things continued to go well. The Island of Trinidad (off Venezuela)
+was reached at last. The natives were friendly and told of vast
+deposits of gold far up the river Orinoco. "But would Raleigh not
+please besiege the Spanish town of St. Joseph?" said they, "and rescue
+some of their chiefs whom the Spaniards held prisoners--in chains."
+
+"I always strike a Spaniard when I can," said Raleigh. "On, men, we'll
+sack this proud city!"
+
+St. Joseph speedily fell into his hands. The chiefs were released.
+They were so gratified, that they paddled him far up the river, where
+they found glittering gold, which they tore out of rocks with their
+daggers. The Englishmen were delighted, and, collecting a mass of
+nuggets to show to those at home, they put back to the ships, set
+sail, and were soon in England again.
+
+The people were astonished at this exploit, but the jealous courtiers
+did all they could to deprive Raleigh of the renown which was justly
+his due.
+
+"What this fellow has told is a lie," whispered they into the ears of
+good Queen Bess. "There is no such place as Guiana. Raleigh has been
+down upon the coast of Spain and hidden himself. He has not crossed
+the Atlantic at all."
+
+Which proves that no one can ever do anything adventurous without
+stirring up the hammers of the Envious: the Little Men. Is it not so
+to-day? Look around! You can hear the carping critic at any time that
+you may wish! _Do_ something _big_, sometime. Then put your ear to the
+ground and listen!
+
+But the sea called for the fifth time. A vast English fleet was hurled
+against the Spanish at Cadiz,--a great English fleet, accompanied by
+an army. England was bound to get even with the Spaniards for daring
+to launch the supposedly invincible Armada against them--and Sir
+Walter eagerly sailed for the coast of Spain.
+
+The harbor of Cadiz was seen to be fairly jammed full of stately
+galleons and men-of-war. Arranged in compact rows, close to shore,
+just below the towering and frowning castle of Cadiz; they were
+protected, on either side, by fortresses, whence heavy guns peeped
+forth to defend them. There were nearly sixty large vessels in all,
+four of which were galleons, and twenty of which were galleys:
+well-manned and well-armed with small cannon. There were many more
+ships than in the attacking fleet.
+
+It was the evening of June the 20th, 1596. The British vessels rapidly
+sailed into the harbor, Raleigh leading, in the flagship, the _Water
+Sprite_; behind him the _Mary Rose_, commanded by his cousin, Sir
+George Carew; and the _Rainbow_ under Sir Francis Vere. All were eager
+for the fray, and it was not long before their approach was observed
+by the Spanish fleet. Instantly a huge galleon, the _Saint
+Philip_--the largest in the Spanish Navy--swung out of her position,
+followed by the _Saint Andrew_, second only to her in size.
+
+"They're coming to meet me!" cried Raleigh--joyously.
+
+Instead of that, the galleons sailed for a narrow strait in the
+harbor--followed by the rest of the Spanish fleet--and cast anchor
+just under the stout fortress of Puntal. They arranged themselves in
+close array and awaited the attack of the English.
+
+The English fleet anchored, but at daybreak, the impetuous Raleigh
+bore down upon the formidable mass of hulking galleons. The sun rays
+streamed over the old, Spanish town, gilding the pinnaces and spires
+of the churches, shining brightly upon the flapping pennons of
+Britisher and Don. The white sails flapped, spars creaked and groaned,
+the sailors cheered, and--in a moment--the cannon began to bark, like
+wolf hounds. The fight had begun.
+
+Raleigh was the incarnation of battle. Passing rapidly from point to
+point upon the deck of his vessel, he encouraged and urged on his men,
+exposed himself as freely as the rest; and whenever a man faltered,
+there he appeared to urge the faint heart on with words of inspiration
+and hope.
+
+_Roar! Roar! Roar! Zoom! Zoom! Crash!_
+
+The arquebusses spittled and spat; cannon growled; and iron crashed
+into solid oak planking.
+
+The orders were not to board until the fly-boats (long, flat-bottomed
+vessels with high sterns) came up, which were manned by Dutch allies.
+For three hours the battle raged, but the fly-boats did not arrive.
+The Earl of Essex--the commander of this expedition--now ordered his
+flagship to pass through the advance line of vessels, and make the way
+to the front. Raleigh was chafing with rage because the fly-boats did
+not come, yet, in spite of the danger of being shot, he jumped into a
+light skiff, and was rowed over to the galleon of Essex.
+
+"I'll board the _Saint Philip_," cried he, "if the fly-boats do not
+soon arrive. Even though it be against the orders of the Admiral. For
+it is the same loss to burn, or to sink, and I must soon endure one or
+the other."
+
+"Go ahead!" yelled Essex, over the bow. "I'll second you, upon my
+honor!"
+
+Raleigh hastened with all speed to the deck of the _Water Sprite_,
+where his men were pounding away at the Spanish galleons with all
+their might and main. No sooner had he mounted the poop, than he saw,
+with anger, that two vessels of his own squadron had forced themselves
+into a position in front of his own; for their commanders wanted to
+win first honors in this battle at sea.
+
+Raleigh, himself, wished to have the honor, just like other sea
+captains in later battles. But,--that's another story.
+
+So, the gallant seaman ran the _Water Sprite_ between the two other
+ships and took up his position as leader. Sir Francis Vere of the
+_Rainbow_ was resolved to keep in front as well as Raleigh.
+
+As the _Water Sprite_ passed him he slyly cast a rope to a sailor, who
+tied it to her stern, and his own vessel thus kept abreast of the
+lumbering galley of his chief. "But," writes Sir Walter, "some of my
+company advising me thereof, I caused the rope to be cast off, and so
+Vere fell back in his place, where I guarded him--all but his very
+prow--from the sight of the enemy. I was very sure that none would
+outstart me again for that day."
+
+The guns of the fort appeared to be silent and the big galleons lay
+apparently helpless in the face of the valiant enemy. Raleigh moved
+on, but, as he was about to clutch his splendid prize, it escaped him,
+for the Spaniards--finding that they would be captured--made haste to
+run the _Saint Philip_, and several of her sister ships, aground on
+the sand.
+
+"Blow them up!" came the order.
+
+The Spanish sailors and soldiers came tumbling out of the ships into
+the sea in heaps--"as thick as if coals had been poured out of a sack
+into many pots at once." Then a terrific roar boomed forth. The air
+was filled with flying splinters, canvas, iron, and lead. The portions
+of the galleons were now floating upon the waves and the water was
+alive with the struggling bodies of the Spaniards as they desperately
+endeavored to save themselves.
+
+The spectacle was lamentable. Many drowned themselves. Many, half
+burned, leaped into the water; while others hung by the ropes' ends;
+by the ships' sides; under the sea, even to their lips. "If any man
+had a desire to see Hell, itself," wrote Sir Walter, "it was there
+most lively figured!"
+
+Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah!
+
+The English sailors were cheering, for victory was theirs, and of all
+the gallant warriors of that day, Raleigh had been the most
+persistently daring and heroic.
+
+"The _Saint Andrew_'s still afloat, good Sire!" cried one of his
+sailors at this moment.
+
+"Then we'll take her!" cried Raleigh.
+
+She was boarded and captured with little difficulty, while yet another
+galleon--the _Saint Matthew_--fell into his hands. These were the only
+vessels of all that proud Spanish fleet which had escaped the flames.
+
+Raleigh, himself, had been severely wounded in the leg, but he refused
+to release the command of his ship. He gave orders that all lives
+should be spared, and although these mandates were rigidly obeyed by
+the English soldiers, the Dutch cruelly slaughtered many of their
+hapless prisoners, for their hatred of the Spaniards was bitter and
+savage.
+
+Cadiz had not yet fallen and Raleigh was determined to go on shore
+with the troops and witness the taking of the town, in spite of his
+wound. A litter was prepared for him--he was lowered into one of the
+boats--rowed ashore, carried upon the shoulders of some of his
+faithful soldiers, and witnessed the furious struggle which now
+ensued. Cadiz fell. Although the lives of the people were spared; the
+castle, fortifications and the greater part of the town itself, were
+burned and demolished. If you go there, to-day, you will still find
+the marks of this great and stirring strife.
+
+There was nothing left but to put the Spanish prisoners aboard the
+galleons, collect the plunder, and set sail for England. When the
+fleet again swung into the little harbor of Plymouth it was received
+by the people with wildest enthusiasm and delight. All England rang
+with the praise of the valor and courage of her heroes, for Spain had
+been stripped of her ability to injure her English rival and England's
+power was supreme upon the sea. Raleigh and his comrades had done
+this,--and the descendants of Raleigh and his comrades have continued
+to uphold the supremacy. Hurrah for Raleigh!
+
+But how about those jealous courtiers? They were still around--Oh,
+yes!--And Raleigh was greeted at court as coldly as when he had
+departed with the fleet. He had been deprived of his office of Captain
+of the Queen's Guard, and even his bravery at Cadiz did not win this
+back for him. Nor did he receive any of the spoil which had been won
+by himself and his comrades. Even Queen Bess was angry because her
+share of the booty taken from Cadiz was not as great as she had hoped
+for.
+
+"What the Generals have got," wrote Sir Walter, "I know least. For my
+own part, I have got a game leg, and am deformed. I have received many
+good words and exceedingly kind and regardful usage; but I have
+possession of naught but poverty and pain."
+
+Not long afterwards the old Queen was persuaded to write Sir Walter to
+come to court, and thus he and his wife, whom Elizabeth had also
+forgiven, appeared daily in the brilliant throng which clustered in
+the halls and corridors of the Royal Palace. He was restored to his
+old office of Captain of the Queen's Guard and rode forth again in all
+the splendor of his uniform, at the side of the sovereign.
+
+The rest of Sir Walter's life can be briefly narrated. With Essex he
+took part in a successful expedition to the Azores, where they
+captured many ships, and with him divided much booty and fame. But
+Essex became too ambitious and started a conspiracy to place himself
+upon the throne of England. It was a failure. He was captured by the
+Queen's soldiers--a part under Sir Walter himself--was tried, and
+executed for High Treason.
+
+Queen Bess soon died and was succeeded by a man who disliked Sir
+Walter from the start. This was James the First of Scotland--a "dour"
+fellow--who charged the valorous knight with treason, for it was
+alleged that he had conspired, with Lord Cobham, to place the
+youthful Arabella Stuart upon the throne. He was tried, convicted, and
+thrown into the Tower, where he lived for twelve long, tedious years.
+Think of it! A fellow of his venturesome and restless spirit forced to
+remain in a dungeon-keep for such a time! Weep for brave Sir Walter!
+This was fine treatment for a patriot!
+
+But the jealous courtiers did not weep. Oh no! _They_ laughed.
+
+When gallant Sir Walter was thrown into the Tower (for he had not
+plotted against the King) he was a hale and stalwart cavalier of
+fifty-two. He was released--after twelve years--when his hair and
+beard were grizzled, his face worn and wrinkled, his body somewhat
+bent, and his features grave and sorrowful. With what tearful joy he
+clasped to his breast his ever faithful wife and his two sons! At
+sixty-four his brave spirit was still unshaken; his ardent and
+restless ambition was as keen as ever.
+
+He went forth with the sentence of death still hanging over his head;
+for King James, although giving a grudging consent to his release, had
+refused to pardon him. And he went forth with the understanding that
+he should lead an expedition to the coast of Guiana in South America;
+there to attack the Spaniards and gain plunder, gold, and jewels. If
+successful he was to go free. If non-successful, he was to suffer
+punishment--perhaps death!
+
+The expedition was a failure. The Spaniards and natives were well
+aware of his coming, for 'tis said that King James, himself, sent them
+news of the expedition.
+
+"If I go home it's off with my head," said Sir Walter. "But I'll risk
+it."
+
+Don't you think if you had been Sir Walter, instead of sailing to
+England where you knew that a headsman's axe awaited you, you would
+have coasted by the shores of the Chesapeake Bay and dropped off
+quietly where is the home of the canvas-back and the terrapin! Just
+stepped into one of the jolly-boats and peacefully drifted ashore on a
+dark night?
+
+I think that you would have been strongly inclined to do so,--but
+_you_ are not Sir Walter Raleigh. _He_ was a lion-hearted adventurer.
+
+Opportunity after opportunity came to him to escape to the shores of
+France. He let them go by, but, when he found that his enemies
+demanded his trial for treason, he thought it high time to get away.
+He learned that a French envoy had arranged to get him to France and
+had a barque for this purpose. A certain Captain King had found a
+small boat commanded by one of Sir Walter's old boatmen, which lay at
+Tilbury awaiting his orders. It was arranged by Raleigh's guard--one
+Stukeley--that he should be rowed to the little lugger on the evening
+of Sunday, August the 9th, 1618. The latter was sent up the Thames
+river to Gravesend.
+
+At the hour designated, Raleigh, Captain King, Stukeley and his son
+Hart, with a page, jumped into two small wherries in order to row to
+the lugger. They had just shoved off, when keen Sir Walter saw another
+boat push out from the bank and follow them.
+
+"How's this?" said he to Stukeley.
+
+But silent Stukeley did not answer.
+
+The boat rowed fast, but the pursuing craft moved with equal speed.
+The tide was singing and gurgling in a mad flow, and it became
+doubtful whether the wherries could reach Gravesend under the
+protection of darkness, for day was breaking, and the whirling water
+made progress very slow.
+
+At last--seeing that they could not get away--the shallops were forced
+to turn about and retrace their passage. The pursuing boat swung,
+also--like a shadow of the first. Sir Walter's heart beat
+tumultuously.
+
+When the fugitives reached Greenwich--Stukeley stood up and appeared
+in his true colors. Laying a hand upon the shoulder of faithful
+Captain King, he cried--
+
+"I arrest you in the name of our Monarch, James First!"
+
+Raleigh looked around in anger and dismay.
+
+"Stukeley," he said with heat, "you are a trait'rous cur. These
+actions will not turn out to your credit!"
+
+But the knave laughed derisively,--so derisively that the common
+people dubbed him "Sir Judas Stukeley." And it well suited him. Didn't
+it?
+
+The boatmen rowed directly to the Tower and the boat which had pursued
+the wherries--which contained a courtier named Herbert (to whom
+Stukeley had betrayed the projected escape)--followed them close. The
+soldiers in her (for they had been well hidden) escorted the dejected
+Sir Walter to the grim walls of the dungeon.
+
+There was now no hope for that gallant adventurer: the man had
+brought honor and renown to England. He was tried for Treason:
+condemned: executed.
+
+As he stood waiting for the axe to fall, he said:
+
+"I have many sins for which to beseech God's pardon. For a long time
+my course was a course of vanity. I have been a seafaring man, a
+soldier, and a courtier; and, in the temptations of the least of these
+there is enough to overthrow a good mind and a good man. I die in the
+faith professed by the Church of England. I hope to be saved, and to
+have my sins washed away by the precious blood and merits of our
+Saviour, Jesus Christ."
+
+A quick shudder ran through the multitude when Sir Walter had ceased
+to live, and many groaned aloud at the horrible sight. One stout
+yeoman cried out angrily, "We have not had such another head to be cut
+off."
+
+The crowd separated slowly, muttering and crying out against the
+enemies of the valiant man; while his friends, who were present,
+parted with tears coursing down their cheeks.
+
+And the jealous courtiers said: "Magnificent!" It was now their turn
+to shout. And they did it, too.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+So, you see, Sir Walter Raleigh's patriotism was paid for by death.
+The trouble with him was, he was too much of a man.
+
+_Nowadays_--when a soldier or sailor does something for England--they
+give him a Hip! Hip! Hurray!
+
+He is appreciated. He is presented with titles, honors, and a warm
+reception.
+
+_Then_, when a man did something for England, those in power gave him
+the cold shoulder; the icy stare.
+
+That's the reason why England's sons will do something for her now. If
+she had kept treating them as she did Sir Walter Raleigh she wouldn't
+have many of them around when it came to a fight. _And, some day,
+she'll need them all!_
+
+So when a fellow does something really great, don't greet him with
+frozen silence. _Cheer! He needs it! Besides,--it won't hurt you!_
+
+_Give a tiger and three times three!_
+
+
+THE VANISHED SAILORS
+
+    Say, sailors, what's happened to young Bill Jones?
+    Jones of Yarmouth; the bright-cheeked boy?
+    Jones who could handle a boat like a man,
+    Jones, who would grapple a smack like a toy?
+
+    "_Fell o'er the sea-end with Raleigh. Ahoy!_"
+
+    Well, sea-dogs, where's Thompson of Yarmouthport dock?
+    The chap who could outwit old Hawkins, they say,
+    The man with th' knowledge of charts and of reefs,
+    There wasn't his equal from Prawle to Torquay.
+
+    "_Fell o'er the sea-end with Raleigh, to-day!_"
+
+    Where's Rixey of Hampton; Smith of Rexhill?
+    Who'd coasted and traded from London to Ryde,
+    Huggins and Muggins, all seamen of worth,
+    Who could jibe and could sail, sir, when combers were wide?
+
+    "_Fell o'er the sea-end with Raleigh. Last tide!_"
+
+    Well, seamen, when that day shall come near,
+    When the salt sea is moved from its bed,
+    Some will there be, who can give us the news,
+    Of all that brave band, whom Adventure has led
+    To
+
+    "_Fall o'er the sea-end with Raleigh, 'tis said!_"
+
+
+
+
+    "Such is the man,
+    Whom neither shape nor danger can dismay,
+    Nor thought of tender happiness betray;
+    Who, not content that worth stands fast,
+    Looks forward, persevering to the last,
+    From good to better, daily self-surpassed."
+
+                    --_Ballads of the Day._
+
+
+
+
+JEAN BART
+
+THE SCOURGE OF THE DUTCH
+
+(1650-1702)
+
+
+    As long as selfishness remains a Human
+    Passion,--Warfare will continue.
+
+
+JEAN BART
+
+THE SCOURGE OF THE DUTCH
+
+(1650-1702)
+
+    "'What means that canvas, Skipper? It's bearing down to port,
+    And it drives a blackish barquentine, with every topsail taut,
+    There're guns upon her poop deck. There're cannon near her bow,
+    And the bugler's bloomin' clarion, it shrills a how-de-row?'
+    The skipper took a peep at her, his face turned ashen pale,
+    His jaw began to tremble, and his knees began to fail,
+    As the flag of France swung to the breeze and fluttered without check,
+    'Jean Bart!' he gurgled weakly, and fainted on the deck."
+
+                    --_Rhymes of The Dutch Channel Fleet._--1676.
+
+
+The good ship _Cochon Gras_ boiled along off the coast of Normandy
+under a full spread of canvas, for the breeze was light, and was from
+the southward. A boy of sixteen stood at the helm. He was well bronzed
+by exposure to the elements; was sturdy and strong. His dark hair
+waved luxuriantly about a face in which keenness and shrewdness were
+easily to be seen. His name was Jean Bart and he had been born at
+Dunkirk in France.
+
+The Captain of the _Cochon Gras_ strode about upon the deck below. He
+was in an evil mood and his voice showed his ill feeling.
+
+"Put the helm over!" he shouted to the steersman. "Don't you see that
+your sails aren't half full! Boy, will you never learn!"
+
+Jean Bart obeyed.
+
+"Very good, my Captain!" said he. "Very good, my Monsieur Valbue."
+
+And, at this, the captain scowled, for he was in a beastly temper.
+
+"I am glad that you act quickly," said he. "You know nothing. By
+acting quickly you will learn a thing or two. _Tiens!_ Be speedy! Be
+very quick! Be like the Bishop of Oleron!"
+
+He smiled and lurched against the rail.
+
+"Ah, this good prelate was a true seaman," said he. "He knew the tides
+like a mackerel. He knew as much as I do, myself, and that is saying a
+good deal."
+
+Jean Bart chuckled at the vanity of Monsieur Valbue.
+
+"The good Bishop was standing on the rocks upon a stormy evening,"
+continued the captain, "when he saw some fisher boats making for the
+harbor. One of them was bearing too close to the shore. One of them
+was going to go upon the rocks. One of them was steered by a poor
+fellow who knew neither the reefs nor the shoals. 'Voila!' cried the
+good bishop. 'Voila! I will save this dull-witted sailor.' And,
+forthwith, what do you think that he did,--?"
+
+A small knot of seamen had, by this time, collected around the
+talkative captain. They all shook their heads.
+
+[Illustration: JEAN BART.]
+
+"Fools," cried Captain Valbue. "Fools! Why, he strode into the sea, of
+course. Being a pure man of God and a member of the true church, he
+walked upon the surface of the water. The boat coming in was manned by
+Huguenots, by unbelievers, mark you! By fellows who had neither the
+sense nor the grace to be members of the true church. _They_ could not
+walk upon the water. Oh! No! But the good Bishop _he_ walked as easily
+as a stormy petrel, for he was a man of God. And, as he reached the
+boat he made the sign of the cross, saying, 'Beware of the rocks which
+you sail down upon! Bear off to the left! When you see the red buoy,
+bear to the right, and then come home by keeping your bow pointed for
+the spire of the big church!' And they did so. They were saved by the
+good Bishop, whom I know well. As for me. I would have let the foolish
+Huguenots get their just deserts. It would have been one heretic less
+and good riddance."
+
+At this one of the seamen was plainly angered.
+
+"Piff!" said he. "Piff!" That was all. But Monsieur Valbue had noticed
+it and Monsieur Valbue grew angry in a moment. Seizing a half-empty
+cider mug, from which he had been drinking, he hurled it at the head
+of the fellow who had made the remark.
+
+"You dog of a Huguenot!" he roared.
+
+The seaman dodged, and the cider mug spun into the planks of a jolly
+boat. Then he stepped forward and said,
+
+"Captain Valbue, the Laws of Oleron, under which we sail, say that you
+cannot and must not strike a seaman with any missile. I, Lanoix, will
+strike back if you hit me."
+
+But Monsieur Valbue was like a bubbling tea-pot. Seizing a
+hand-spike, he shot it out at the man who knew the law.
+
+"The Laws of Oleron allow me just one blow," blubbered Captain Valbue.
+"Just as the laws of England allow each dog one bite."
+
+As luck would have it, he missed his shot.
+
+Lanoix leaped over the iron rail which separated the forecastle from
+the after part of the vessel. Then he turned around.
+
+"Follow me here, you coward!" he shouted to the captain, "and I will
+have the right to crack you through the middle. Consult the Laws of
+Oleron under which we sail and see if they do not back me up!"
+
+"The laws be blowed!" yelled Monsieur Valbue, now beside himself with
+rage. And, leaping across the rail he struck the Huguenot two sturdy
+blows in the face.
+
+Jean Bart, meanwhile, steered the ship: looked on; and said nothing.
+
+R-i-i-p! There was a flash, a blow, and a cry of pain. A large, keen
+knife was clenched in the strong right hand of Lanoix, and the captain
+was running red, with a deep gash in his shoulder.
+
+"Down with the Mutineer! Down with the dog!" came from the throats of
+the members of the crew who had clustered about the two enraged men,
+smiling at the little affair.
+
+With a rush they were upon the Huguenot; had forced him to the deck;
+and wrested the knife from his hand. But, before it was wrenched from
+his fist, the blade had pierced the body of a seaman and had felled
+him to the boarding.
+
+"Bring up the Laws of Oleron," cried Captain Valbue, when the Huguenot
+had been secured. "Bring up the Laws of Oleron from my cabin, and let
+us see whether or no I was right, when I struck this prating Lanoix!"
+
+The cabin-boy dove below and was soon again upon the deck.
+
+"The law shall be read," cried the captain. "Out with it!"
+
+Now, aboard the vessel was one Antoine Sauret--a good, old
+boatswain--a friend of the father of Jean Bart, and a courageous man.
+
+"The law shows you to be in the wrong," said he.
+
+"Yes," cried Jean Bart from the wheel, which he had not left. "You
+were, and are, in the wrong." Monsieur Valbue glowered at them.
+
+"I am the law," said he. "Is this not my vessel?"
+
+"But the right is on his side," interrupted the good Antoine Sauret.
+
+"You wait and see what I do to this cur of a Huguenot," snarled
+Captain Valbue. "And no more talk from either you or Jean Bart. Hear!
+Six out of eight of the crew agree that this Lanoix has wounded me and
+has slain one of his ship-mates--without proper provocation--I will
+now fix him."
+
+And this he did in the most approved manner.
+
+Lashing his victim's arm to a sharp sword tied to the windlass, he
+knocked the unfortunate Lanoix upon the deck with a hand-spike. Then,
+tying him--still alive--to the dead sailor whom the Huguenot had
+killed when the crew rushed upon him,--he cried out:
+
+"Throw 'em both to the fishes!"
+
+They were seized.
+
+"One! Two! Three! Heave Away!" sounded from the throats of the
+Frenchmen.
+
+Lanoix and the dead sailor spun out above the blue water. A splash. A
+gurgle of white foam, and the Atlantic closed above them.
+
+Seamen--you witness--were brutes, in these merry days of privateering.
+But hear the sequel of the gruesome story!
+
+Jean Bart and the good boatswain Sauret had, from that moment, no high
+opinion of the Laws of Oleron. So, when the vessel touched at Calais,
+upon the coast of France, they walked up to the captain, saying:
+
+"Sir. We wish to leave you! We cannot sail any longer beneath your
+orders."
+
+The brutal Valbue scowled.
+
+"Go!" said he. "And good riddance."
+
+But when the circumstances of the death of the two men were reported
+to the authorities, the captain was tried.
+
+"The Law of Oleron," said the Judge to him, "acquits you, for the
+Huguenot sailor was in the wrong to draw his knife, when you struck
+him only with your fists. But it is a bad law and must be changed."
+
+Here he turned to young Jean Bart and the good Sauret.
+
+"As for you two," said he, "I most highly commend you for protesting
+against the brutality of this captain. Would that all the sailors of
+France were as good as both of you. If they were, there would be less
+trouble aboard ship. Again I commend you!"
+
+So--feeling very happy, indeed--young Jean Bart went out into the
+street. Though only sixteen he had been right in his attempt to save
+the life of poor Lanoix. Good for young Bart! Hats off to the sailor
+lad of sixteen who was more merciful than the cruel Law of Oleron! And
+this brutal set of rules was soon changed to the Maritime Code of
+France, which gave seamen some right to defend themselves against the
+attacks of rough and overbearing captains. Thus Jean Bart had started
+the ball rolling in the right direction. Again hats off to the
+doughty, young Frenchman!
+
+Not long after this event the Dutch fell out with the English and
+began a smart little war. Jean Bart hastened to the scene of action,
+enrolled in the Dutch cause, and fought with them for five full years.
+Then the Dutch began to make war upon the French (in 1672), but this
+was too much for the patriotic sentiments of the youthful volunteer.
+
+"Ah!" said he. "When my own people are attacked, I must hasten to
+their assistance. The Dutch have paid me well 'tis true, but now I
+scorn their gold. Vive la France!"
+
+So saying, he returned to Dunkirk, speedily found employment, and went
+to sea again--not in a man-of-war, but in a privateer. He was now
+four-and-twenty; was wiry, tough, and well used to battling both with
+men and with the elements. The boat he sailed in mounted only two guns
+and had a crew of thirty-six. She was named after a famous personage
+of Biblical history: _King David_, and she conducted herself as
+skilfully as did that ancient monarch, for was not Jean Bart at the
+helm?
+
+Cruising out upon the treacherous waters of the North Sea, it was not
+long before a vessel was sighted that was of such small tonnage that
+Bart was not afraid to give chase. He slapped on all canvas, put his
+helm hard over, and steered for the dancing bit of canvas. The _King
+David_ was a swift sailer, and soon the bow-gun spoke from the deck of
+the French privateer, sending a challenging shot whistling close to
+the stern of the stranger, who flew the flag of the States General
+(the Dutch Republic) with which the French were now at war.
+
+The stranger did not relish the challenge, and came to in a hurry,
+while her flag fluttered weakly to the deck.
+
+"She's ours!" cried Jean Bart, gleefully. "And without a fight. Hurray
+for the life of a privateer!"
+
+Quickly ranging alongside, the stranger was seen to be a valuable
+prize, laden with tea, spices, and cotton. She was manned by a small
+crew and sent to port.
+
+"Now off for other luck!" cried Jean Bart.
+
+Luck was with him, too. In four months cruising in the English
+Channel, near the Belgian coast, he captured six prizes; all without
+any fighting. The Dutch trading vessels of those days must have been
+without guns and poorly manned, for it should have been easy to stand
+off a crew of but thirty-six, with only two cannon aboard. Jean
+Bart--you may be sure--was well satisfied. He was now rich, quite
+famous, and keen for further adventure.
+
+So well did the owners of the privateer _King David_ think of him,
+that they now put him in charge of a larger vessel named _La Royale_,
+carrying about eighty men and ten guns.
+
+"Go out and win!" cried the chief owner of this privateer. "Jean Bart,
+you are followed by the best blood of France. Your men are all from
+Dunkirk!"
+
+And Jean Bart smiled.
+
+"Watch me!" said he.
+
+Cruising near the coast of Holland in company with a small French
+gun-boat, he fell in with a man-of-war--the _Esperance_--carrying
+twelve guns and about one hundred and twenty men.
+
+"Now we'll have a real fight!" cried the youthful French commander as
+he cleared decks for action. "Men, see to it that your swords are
+sharpened for there may be some boarding!"
+
+Then he signalled to the little French gun-boat to follow him and give
+battle. This ally carried about a hundred men and six cannon.
+
+"Poof! Poof!"
+
+The heavy guns of the Dutchman were the first to speak and they barked
+away like fat Newfoundland watch-dogs.
+
+"Poof! Poof! B-o-o-m!"
+
+Jean Bart reserved his fire until within about seventy-five yards and
+then he gave the command,
+
+"Fire away! Aim low! And try to hull her!"
+
+A sheet of flame sprang from the ten guns of _La Royale_ and a
+splitting of boards and crackling of splinters showed that the iron
+missiles had punctured the stout sides of the _Esperance_.
+
+"Pop! Pop! Crash!"
+
+The other French vessel now threw her lead into the stern of the
+defender of the flag of the States General and her mizzen-mast was
+seen to rock like an unfastened May pole.
+
+"Whow!"
+
+The _Esperance_ was not slow in answering back and her twelve guns
+spat like leopards in the brush. She filled away and bore towards the
+land, but the French gun-boat saw this move and checkmated it.
+
+Sailing across her bow, the Frenchman raked her fore and aft, while
+the rub-a-dub-dub of Jean Bart's guns went drumming against her
+starboard side. Crash! Crash! Crash! Her boards were split, her
+mizzen-mast was swaying, and her rigging was near cut in two. Men were
+falling fast and two of her guns had blown up and were rendered
+useless.
+
+"Surrender!" came a sharp hail from the lusty throat of Jean Bart,
+and, as he spoke, a perfect hail of grape came from his French ally,
+now creeping up to port for a chance to grapple and board.
+
+"What can I do?" sighed the stout, Dutch commander, turning to one of
+his lieutenants. "Boy, haul down our flag!"
+
+So down came the emblem of the States General amidst ringing cheers
+from the throats of the followers of Jean Bart. They had won a notable
+victory.
+
+When the _Esperance_ was towed and half-sailed into Dunkirk harbor,
+old Antoine Sauret was there.
+
+"Ah, my friends," said he, "I always told you that my boy, Jean Bart,
+would make a great name for himself. Three times three for the great
+privateer of Dunkirk!"
+
+And all the bystanders joined in right willingly.
+
+Not long after this event, our hero's ship was lying in the harbor of
+Bergen in Sweden. The captain of an English vessel met him on shore,
+and, after having a chat with him, remarked:
+
+"I hear that you have quite a reputation for fighting your ship. I,
+too, am a sea warrior and would like to have a little affair with you.
+My own vessel is of about the same tonnage as yours, so that we could
+meet upon even terms. Will you join me?"
+
+"I would be delighted," answered the war-like Jean Bart. "If you wait
+two days I will be ready for you and will fight you three miles off
+the coast. Meanwhile I must lie here and take on some stores which are
+much needed by both men and guns."
+
+The Englishman smiled.
+
+"You are a man after my own heart," said he. "Good-by until we meet in
+battle."
+
+Three days after this, Jean Bart sent a boy to the English vessel with
+a note for the captain. It ran:
+
+    "I am ready to fight you to-morrow. Meet me three miles
+    beyond the breakwater and may the best man win. Until
+    then--good luck.
+
+        "Yours for battle,
+
+            "JEAN BART."
+
+The boy came back bearing a return missive from the Englishman, who
+wrote:
+
+    "MONSIEUR BART: I am delighted to learn that you want to
+    fight me, and will do so. You are indeed a brave man.
+    But--before we go for each other's throats--pray let us
+    breakfast together. Will you therefore take your morning
+    meal with me, to-morrow, in my own cabin, aboard my
+    ship? I shall expect you.
+
+        "Yours to count on,
+
+            "MIDDLETON."
+
+"I do not want to accept, but I will," mused Captain Bart. "These
+English fellows are far too polite."
+
+So, next morning, he was rowed to the British vessel and was soon
+breakfasting with his red-faced opponent.
+
+After the meal the Frenchman lighted his pipe, took a few puffs, and
+said:
+
+"Monsieur, I have greatly enjoyed this peaceful repast. But it is now
+time for me to go and sharpen my boarding-pike. I must bid you adieu."
+
+The Englishman smiled.
+
+"No," said he. "You cannot go. You are my prisoner!"
+
+Jean Bart still smoked.
+
+"You are too quick!" he answered, slowly. "There you are wrong. I am
+not your prisoner, for I see a barrel of gunpowder on the deck, and,
+if you do not release me immediately, I will blow up your ship!"
+
+The Englishman turned pale.
+
+"Watch me!" cried Jean Bart.
+
+Leaping from his seat, he rushed to the deck, lighted a match from his
+pipe, and held it directly over the mouth of a barrel of gunpowder,
+from which someone had pried the head.
+
+"Lay on! You cowards!" he yelled. "Lay on, and we'll all go to the
+Land of the Hereafter together."
+
+His cry was heard upon his own vessel, which--with sails up--lay
+waiting for him.
+
+In a moment her bow was turned towards the British ship which was
+still at anchor, with sails unhoisted. In a moment she dropped down
+alongside--and--in less time than it takes to tell--the Frenchmen had
+brought her upon the port quarter, and were swarming across the deck
+to rescue their bold captain.
+
+Taken by surprise, the English put up a plucky fight, but they were no
+match for the infuriated men of Dunkirk. They were soon overpowered.
+The captain was taken prisoner, and the vessel was considered a
+legitimate prize of war, because of the trick which Middleton had
+attempted to play upon Jean Bart. When--in a few days--the prize was
+sailed into Dunkirk harbor--the Englishman well wished that he had not
+attempted to capture the most able privateersman of all France.
+
+The fame of this exploit spread over the land, and gave rise to a
+ditty, which ran:
+
+    "If you want to catch Jean Bart, sir,
+    A slippery, slimy chap,
+    Don't bait him with gunpowder,
+    For he's sure to miss the trap.
+    You must splice him down with chains, sir;
+    You must nail him to the deck.
+    Put a belt around his middle,
+    And a collar 'round his neck.
+    Even then you cannot hold him,
+    For he's certain to get through,
+    While his sailors sing a song, sir,
+      With a
+            Cock-
+                  a-
+                    doodle-
+                            doo!"
+
+In July, 1675, Jean Bart was married, but he did not remain long on
+shore. Three weeks after this auspicious event he once more put to sea
+and captured a number of Dutch fishing boats, which he allowed the
+captains to ransom for large sums of money.
+
+This was a very convenient arrangement, for it saved him the trouble
+of putting part of his own crew on board and sending the boats to
+port. But the owners of _La Royale_, upon which he sailed, did not
+care for his methods of procedure.
+
+"You cannot do this in future!" said they. "And you must forfeit half
+of what you took to us!"
+
+Jean Bart obeyed, but he was very angry. It is even said that he
+uttered "a round seaman's oath."
+
+So successful was he, in fact, that he was given a much larger vessel
+in 1676. This was a frigate--the _Palme_--with twenty-four guns and a
+crew of one hundred and fifty men. Sailing into the North Sea with two
+small French gun-boats, he soon fell in with three Dutch privateers
+and eight armed whaling vessels. He attacked, and the battle raged for
+three long, bloody hours.
+
+When the smoke and the fumes of sulphur burned away, Bart had boarded
+the largest privateer, while his two consorts had taken the eight
+whalers. The other Dutch privateers found it too hot for their liking
+and scudded for the coast, firing their stern-guns derisively as they
+disappeared. It was a great victory, and again the French coast rung
+with salvos for Jean Bart, while the old sea-dogs shrugged their
+shoulders, saying:
+
+"Ah! Ha! Did we not tell you that Dunkirk bred men of bone and marrow.
+Ah! Ha!"
+
+But Jean Bart was not happy.
+
+"Would that I could meet a foe of my own force," he used to say.
+"Either a man-of-war or a privateer, I don't care which. I want to try
+it on with one of my own size and strength."
+
+His wish was soon to be gratified.
+
+On September 7th, 1676, he was pointing the _Palme_ towards the
+Belgian coast-line, when he sighted a number of sail on the starboard
+quarter. He headed for them; scanned the white dots through a glass,
+and saw that this was a fishing fleet of small, unarmed luggers. But
+a big, hulking Dutch frigate hovered in their rear, and thirty-two
+guns pointed their brown muzzles menacingly from her open port-holes.
+She was the _Neptune_ and she lazed along like a huge whale:
+omnipotent and self-satisfied.
+
+"Ah ha!" cried the delighted Jean Bart. "Now I have met an enemy that
+is worthy of my steel. Up with the flag and sail into yonder Dutchman.
+We have but twenty-four guns to her thirty-two, but are we to be awed
+by this show of force? Be ready, my boys, to have the stiffest fight
+in your careers!"
+
+The Dutchman was equally well pleased when he saw who was coming for
+him.
+
+"Here is Jean Bart, the pirate and privateer," he cried. "For three
+years I've been hoping to have a fight with him and now my chance has
+come at last. I am fortunate, for I can pay him back for all the
+damage that he has done to Dutch commerce. Shoot low, my hearties, and
+do not fail to hull our enemy. Let your war-cry be: 'Down with Jean
+Bart and his pirate crew!'"
+
+"Hurrah!" shouted his men.
+
+And an answering
+
+"Hurray!" came from the _Palme_. These opponents were as eager to get
+at each other as two prize-fighters of modern days.
+
+_Crash!_ roared a broadside from the Dutch frigate as her flag went
+aloft, and splash, splash, splash, went her shells around the sides of
+the privateer.
+
+"Sail in close!" yelled Jean Bart. "Hug her to leeward for awhile,
+then cross her bows, rake her, get her wind, and board."
+
+"Hurray!" shouted the men of Dunkirk, and a rattle, rattle, roar came
+from the port guns of the _Palme_.
+
+Around and around swung the sea gladiators and the little fishing
+boats luffed and tittered on the waves like inquisitive sparrows.
+
+"Bart cannot win!" said several of their skippers. "For he's
+outweighted and outnumbered!"
+
+But Bart was fighting like John Paul Jones.
+
+Around and around went the two opponents, guns growling, men cheering,
+sails slapping and ripping with the chain and solid shot. Again and
+again Jean Bart endeavored to get a favorable position for boarding
+and again and again he was forced to tack away by the quick manoeuvres
+of the Dutchman.
+
+"Fire into her rigging!" he now thundered. "Cripple those topsails and
+I can bring my boat alongside."
+
+"_Crash! Crash! Crash!_"
+
+Volley after volley puffed from the side of the rolling _Palme_.
+Volley after volley poured its lead and iron into the swaying rigging
+of the Dutchman, and, with a great roaring, ripping, and smashing, the
+mizzen topmast came toppling over the lee rail.
+
+A lusty cheer sounded from the deck of the _Palme_.
+
+"She's ours!" cried Jean Bart, smiling.
+
+Instantly he spun over the wheel, luffed, and brought his boat upon
+the starboard quarter of the Dutchman, who was now part helpless. It
+took but a moment to run alongside, and, in a moment more, the
+_Palme_ was lashed to the _Neptune_ in a deadly embrace. Smoke rolled
+from the sides of both contestants and the roar of the guns drowned
+the shrill cries of the wounded. The Dutchmen were now desperate and
+their guns were spitting fire in rapid, successive volleys; but many
+of them were silenced, as the great, brown side of the _Palme_ rubbed
+its planking against the splintered railing of the shattered
+_Neptune_.
+
+As the vessels were securely bound together, Jean Bart seized a
+boarding-pike, a brace of pistols, and, giving the helm to a sailor,
+leaped into the waist of his ship.
+
+"Board! Board!" he shouted.
+
+A wild yelp greeted these welcome sounds. As he vaulted over the rail
+of his own ship to the deck of the stranger, a motley crew of
+half-wild sea-savages swarmed behind him. They had cutlasses and
+boarding-pikes, and their faces were blackened with powder. Their eyes
+were reddened with sulphurous fumes and their clothes torn with
+splintered planking. They rolled over the gunwales like a huge wave of
+irresistible fire: pistols spitting, pikes gleaming, cutlasses
+glistening in the rays of the sun.
+
+The captain of the _Neptune_ lay near his own wheel, grievously
+wounded.
+
+"Lay on, men!" he shouted. "Don't let this French privateer beat us.
+We will be disgraced."
+
+But his sailors were no match for the onrush of these fiends from
+Dunkirk. They fell back like foam before a sea squall.
+
+"Then down with our flag," cried the captain of the Dutchman. "But,
+ye gods, how it hurts me to give the order."
+
+A sailor seized the halyards and pulled the ensign to the deck, and,
+as it fell upon the reddened planking, a wild, frenzied cheer came
+from the French privateers.
+
+"Jean Bart, forever! France forever! Jean Bart forever!" they cried.
+
+"Up with the French flag!" yelled Jean Bart, laughing like a boy. "Up
+with the white lilies of France."
+
+And, as a spare ensign ran aloft, the little fishing luggers scudded
+for the shore.
+
+"After them, men!" cried Captain Bart. "Our work is not yet over. We
+must have the lambs as well as the old wolf."
+
+So, sail was soon clapped on the _Palme_, she headed for the fleeing
+boats, and, with a few well directed shots, hove them to. Then they
+were told to follow behind and head for France, which they did--but,
+oh! how it did hurt!
+
+It was a proud moment for Jean Bart, and his eyes danced with pleasure
+when he sailed into Dunkirk with the captured _Neptune_ and the fleet
+of fishing boats.
+
+"Voila!" cried the townspeople. "Jean Bart is a true hero. Voila! He
+shall have the freedom of the city. Voila!"
+
+The fame of this gallant exploit soon spread abroad and the king
+showed some desire to see this courageous privateersman.
+
+"I would have him at court," said he to his minister Colbert. "For I
+would reward him."
+
+When news of this was brought to the privateersman he was naturally
+delighted, and, travelling to Versailles, was ushered into the
+presence of his Majesty.
+
+"Here is a gold chain for you," said the king. "I trust that you will
+keep it in recognition of my appreciation of your gallant conduct. I
+would be glad, indeed, to have you in the Royal Service. Would you not
+take a commission?"
+
+"You overwhelm me," answered the valiant sea-fighter, blushing.
+"I--I--I--am quite disconcerted. But--if it would please your Majesty,
+I believe that I would prefer to remain a simple privateer. It is a
+free life and it suits my roving nature."
+
+The king chuckled.
+
+"So be it," said he. "But my good sir, keep yourself in readiness for
+a commission. I may need you in the Royal Marine!"
+
+"Very good, Sire!" said Jean Bart, and, bowing low, he withdrew.
+
+But he did not get away without an adventure,--quite as exciting as
+any he had had aboard the rocking decks of one of his privateer ships.
+
+The fame of Jean Bart had stirred up a number of enemies, for, when a
+man is successful in life, are there not always a hundred unsuccessful
+fellows who stand about and scoff?
+
+Among these were a few followers of the sea who had determined to
+make way with this too fortunate privateer. One--Jules Blanc by
+name--even decided upon murder, if Jean Bart would not agree to leave
+the privateering business to himself and his companions.
+
+As the sailor from Dunkirk left the presence of the king he was
+accosted by one of his old acquaintances.
+
+"Ha, Jean Bart," said he. "Come with me to the Inn. Have a glass with
+me, my boy, for I see that the king has richly rewarded you. You
+deserve it, for you have done well, and you must be tired from your
+journey. Come, let us dine together?"
+
+Suspecting nothing, the gallant privateer followed his companion quite
+willingly, and, when he arrived at the Inn, was not surprised to find
+several other seamen from Dunkirk and the neighboring seaports of
+France. They greeted him warmly.
+
+"To your health!" cried they, raising their glasses of wine. "To the
+health of the bravest privateer in all of France."
+
+Jean Bart was delighted. He smiled like a child, seated himself at
+their table, and began to drink with these jovial men of the sea.
+
+As he sat there, suddenly a paper was mysteriously shoved into his
+hand. He did not see from whence it came, and, as he scanned its
+contents, his face grew strangely pale.
+
+"Beware of these fellows," he read. "They mean to kill you if you do
+not do what they wish. Beware!"
+
+Jean Bart soon regained his composure.
+
+"Come! Let us go to the dining-room up-stairs," said the friend who
+had first accosted him. "Come, my boys! We will there have far more
+quiet!"
+
+All moved for the door.
+
+Jean Bart moved, also, but before he went up-stairs, he loosened his
+sword-belt and cocked two pistols which he carried at his waist. He
+was not surprised when he saw them lock the stout door as they entered
+the room upon the second floor.
+
+When they were all seated Jules Blanc arose. His face well exhibited
+his dislike for the successful privateersman, Jean Bart.
+
+"Now, my friend," said he, facing the man from Dunkirk, "we have you
+here with a purpose. We wish you to know that we are determined that
+you shall no longer go to sea and spoil our own business for us. You
+have had enough success. We want you to withdraw and give some one
+else a chance."
+
+Jean Bart smiled.
+
+"We think that you should retire for we want some pickings for
+ourselves."
+
+"And if I refuse?" queried Jean Bart.
+
+Jules Blanc placed his hand instantly upon his sword-hilt.
+
+"Then--there will be trouble!"
+
+"Poof!" said Jean Bart.
+
+As he spoke, all drew their rapiers.
+
+"Again Poof!" said Jean Bart.
+
+As he spoke, a thrust came from his right. He parried it, leaped upon
+a chair, and stood there smiling.
+
+Crack! There was the sound of a pistol and a bullet whizzed by his
+ear.
+
+Then there was a sudden and awful _Crash!_ The room was filled with
+dust.
+
+When the startled sea-dogs looked about them Jean Bart no longer stood
+upon the table. He had disappeared through the window. And broken
+glass with splintered fastenings was all that remained of the once
+perfect glazing.
+
+"He has gone," said Jules Blanc. "Fellow seamen, we are outdone."
+
+But Jean Bart was a quarter of a mile away, laughing softly to
+himself, as he sped along the highway which led to quiet Dunkirk.
+
+Things went well with him, also, for his employers--appreciating his
+past services--now gave him command of a larger ship than the _Palme_:
+the _Dauphin_, with thirty guns and two hundred eager and adventurous
+sailors from the northern coast of France.
+
+Sailing forth from Dunkirk harbor, on June 18th, 1678, Jean Bart
+eagerly scanned the horizon with his glass. With him were two smaller
+privateers, so that he felt well able to cope with any adversary from
+Holland. His keen glance was soon to be rewarded, for when but two
+days from port he spied a sail upon the starboard bow. It was a Dutch
+frigate--the _Sherdam_--of forty guns and manned by many stout dogs of
+the sea. Her captain--Andre Ranc--was a keen fighter and a man of
+well-tried courage.
+
+"Bear off to leeward!" signalled Jean Bart to his privateer
+companion. "Then we will get the stranger between us, fasten to her,
+and board her from either side."
+
+The flag of the French privateer dipped back an answering, "All
+right!" and, as she was nearest to the Dutchman, she attacked at once.
+
+"_Poom! Poom!_" went the Dutch cannon, like the beating of a churn in
+that land of canals and cheese-making. And _piff! piff!_ answered the
+little howitzers of the privateer.
+
+But Jean Bart meant to have a quick fight, so he bore down to
+starboard, wore ship, and ran so close to the enemy, that his
+grappling irons soon held her fast. In a moment more his own vessel
+was hauled alongside.
+
+Meanwhile the smaller French privateer had spanked over to larboard;
+had run up upon the opposite side of the lumbering Dutchman; and had
+also gripped her. A wild, nerve-wracking cheer went up, as--sword in
+hand--Jean Bart led his boarders over the side of the Dutch vessel.
+
+Ranc was badly wounded but he led his men to a counter assault with
+courage born of desperation. Cutlasses crashed together,
+boarding-pikes smashed and hacked, and pistols growled and spattered
+in one discordant roar. Back went the Dutch sailors fighting savagely
+and bluntly with all the stubbornness of their natures, then back they
+pushed the followers of Jean Bart, while Ranc called to them:
+
+"Drive these French curs into the sea!"
+
+[Illustration: "JEAN BART LED HIS BOARDERS OVER THE SIDE OF THE DUTCH
+VESSEL."]
+
+But now the other privateer had made fast, and her men came clambering
+over the rail, with cutlass, dirk, and pistols.
+
+"We're outnumbered," Ranc shouted, his face showing extreme suffering.
+"Haul down the flag! Had Jean Bart been here alone I could have
+trounced him well."
+
+Thus reluctantly and sadly the flag of the _Sherdam_ came down. But
+the French had paid well for their victory.
+
+Jean Bart was badly wounded in the leg; his face was burned by the
+discharge of a gun, which went off--almost in his eyes--just as he
+leaped on board the _Sherdam_. Six of his men were killed and
+thirty-one were wounded, while the little privateer that had fastened
+to the other flank of the huge _Sherdam_, was a total wreck. So well,
+indeed, had the Dutch fighters plied their cannon as she approached,
+that she was shattered almost beyond repair. With great difficulty she
+was finally towed to shore.
+
+Of course all France again rang with the fame of Jean Bart, while the
+crafty sea-dogs who had endeavored to capture the slippery
+privateersman were furious with envious rage. But Jean Bart hummed a
+little tune to himself, which ran,
+
+    "You'll have to get up early if you want to catch Jean Bart,
+    You'll have to get up early, and have a goodly start,
+    For the early bird can catch the worm, if the worm is fast asleep,
+    But not if it's a privateer, who can through a window leap."
+
+This invincible corsair was also not idle, for in two weeks' time he
+was again at sea in the _Mars_ of thirty-two guns, and a fast sailer.
+Eagerly looking for prizes, he cruised far up the coast of Holland and
+was keenly hunting for either merchantman or frigate, when a small
+vessel neared him, upon which was flying a white flag.
+
+"A truce!" cried Jean Bart. "The war must be over."
+
+When the little boat drew nearer, a fat Dutchman called out something
+which sounded like, "Amsterdam yam Goslam!" which meant, "Peace has
+been declared," in Dutch.
+
+So Jean Bart sailed back into the sheltering harbor of Dunkirk with
+tears of sorrow in his eyes, for he loved his exciting life.
+
+"Helas!" said he. "It is all over!"
+
+Thus, indeed, ended the career of Jean Bart as a privateer captain. In
+January, 1679, he was given the commission of lieutenant in the French
+navy, but, although he accepted, he was never happy in this service.
+From captain to lieutenant was a decided come down, and besides this,
+the aristocratic officers of the Crown made life very unpleasant for
+one who had entered their ranks from privateering.
+
+"Bah!" said they. "He is only a commoner!" And they would turn up
+their titled noses.
+
+But--mark you this!
+
+Several hundred years have passed since those days, and Jean Bart's
+name is still remembered. Who remembers the names of any of these
+titled nobles who held commissions from his Majesty, the King of
+France?
+
+I do not think that any of you do. Certainly I do not.
+
+Therefore, there is a little lesson to be learned, and it is this:
+
+Never sneer at the fellow who accomplishes things, if he be of humble
+birth. _His_ name may go down to history. _Yours_ probably will not.
+
+So, the next time that you are tempted to do this, think it over. If
+you do, you will not say, "Pish,--the Commoner!" But you will say,
+
+"Well done! The Hero!"
+
+So, good-by, Jean Bart, and may France produce your like again, if she
+can!
+
+
+
+
+    "Keep these legends, gray with age,
+    Saved from the crumbling wrecks of yore,
+    When cheerful conquerors moored their barques
+    Along the Saxon shore."
+
+                    --THOMPSON.
+
+
+
+
+DU GUAY-TROUIN
+
+THE GREAT FRENCH "BLUE"
+
+(1673-1736)
+
+
+    "Self trust is the essence of Heroism."--PLUTARCH.
+
+
+DU GUAY-TROUIN
+
+THE GREAT FRENCH "BLUE"
+
+(1673-1736)
+
+    "He's only a scurvy Democrat, his blood is hardly blue,
+    Oh, Sacre Nom de Dieu! Sapristi! Eet is true!
+    Yet, he fights like the Maid of Orleans, with dirk and halberd,
+        too,
+    Oh, Sacre Nom de Dieu! Sapristi! Eet is true!
+    Then--what'll you think, good gentlemen, you men of the kingly
+        pack,
+    Ye sons of Armand the Terrible, ye whelps of Catouriac,
+    Shall _he_ gain the royal purple? Shall _he_ sit in the ranks
+        with us?
+    Shall _he_ quaff of our golden vintage, shall _he_ ride in the
+        royal bus?
+    Nay! Nay! For that would be te-r-r-ible! Nay! Nay! _That ill-born
+        cuss?_
+    Par donc! but that is unbearable! 'Twould result in a shameful
+        fuss!
+    Pray, let him remain a Democrat--The cream of the fleet for us."
+
+                    --_Song of the French Royal Marine._--1695.
+
+
+"You _must_ be a churchman, Renee," said the good Luc Trouin, turning
+to his little son. "I have always had a great ambition to have a child
+of mine in the church, and I feel that you are in every way qualified
+for the position of a prelate."
+
+But little Renee hung his head.
+
+"Look up, boy," continued the amiable Frenchman. "I know that you are
+not now pleased with the idea, but--later on--after you have had more
+experience, I feel sure that you can thank Heaven that your good
+father started you in the right and proper direction."
+
+Still, little Renee hung his head.
+
+"Tut! Tut!" continued the old man. "You will leave, to-morrow, for the
+college at Rheims, and, after you have been there but a short time, I
+feel sure that you will like it. Tut! Tut!"
+
+But still little Renee hung his head.
+
+Again came the amiable "Tut! Tut!" and the chuckling Luc Trouin
+wandered off into the garden to see how well the potatoes were
+growing.
+
+But little Renee still hung his head.
+
+And--in spite of the fact that little Renee went to the Divinity
+school at Rheims, he continued to hang his head. He hung his head for
+three years. Then, news was brought to him, one day, that the good Luc
+Trouin was dead, and, instead of holding his handkerchief to his eyes
+to wipe away the tears, as one would expect of him, little Renee burst
+into loud laughter.
+
+"At last," cried he, "I can get away from the church and go to sea. At
+last my freedom has come!"
+
+And it was not many hours before little Renee was scudding away from
+the school of Divinity, like a clipper-ship under a full spread of
+canvas, before a rousing sou'west breeze.
+
+For at least two hundred years before the birth of bad, little Renee,
+the Trouin family had been well known and prosperous in the Breton
+seaport of St. Malo. For many years a Trouin had been consul at
+Malaga, Spain; and other members of the house had held excellent
+positions with the King, so little Renee had no reason to be ashamed
+of his forebears, in spite of the fact that his people were of the
+"bourgeoisie:" ship-owners, traders, smugglers, privateers, and
+merchants. And, as they were of the "bourgeoisie," they were somewhat
+looked down upon by the proud and haughty aristocrats who fawned about
+the weak and dissipated King.
+
+Little Renee was the son of Luc Trouin and Marguerite Boscher but he
+was called Du Guay-Trouin, in later years, and the reason for this is
+plain. For--in accordance with the custom of the time--he was sent to
+be nursed by a foster mother who resided in the little village of Le
+Gue. So he was called Trouin du Gue; which shortly became Du
+Guay-Trouin.
+
+"I've come home, mother," shouted little Renee, when he had plodded
+his weary way which lay between his temporary prison and the house of
+his parents. "I've come home, mother, and I'm going to sea!"
+
+But his mother did not take any too kindly to this bold and valiant
+idea.
+
+"You must study law," said she, with great firmness. And--in spite of
+the fact that little Renee begged and pleaded--he was forced to give
+up his idea of seafaring life for the dry drudgery and routine of a
+clerk at law. He was now about sixteen years of age.
+
+"The law is dry and my spirits are high," youthful Renee is said to
+have carolled as he spent his first few hours at a lecture, "and
+whatever may be I'm going to sea."
+
+At any rate, he soon got into trouble and engaged in three duels in
+his sixteenth year, in one of which his assailant gave him a serious
+wound. This was too much for even his stern mother to bear, so,
+summoning a family council, she gave forth the following opinion:
+
+"Renee has failed as a student of Divinity. Renee has failed as a
+student of law. Renee has entirely too high spirits. Renee shall,
+therefore, be placed in one of the family ships and sent to sea."
+
+And to this decree Renee is said to have cried: "At last! Hurray!" for
+he longed for action.
+
+In a very short time little Renee had a taste of that war and
+adventure which he craved, for a historian writes that:
+
+"During the first three months of this cruise his courage was tried by
+a violent tempest, an imminent shipwreck, the boarding of an English
+ship, and the threatened destruction of his own vessel by fire. The
+following year, still as a volunteer, he displayed the greatest
+personal courage and won much fame in an engagement which his ship had
+with five merchant vessels."
+
+"Ah ha," said little Renee, "this is indeed life. I am having a good
+time."
+
+So well did those higher in command feel towards the youthful sailor,
+that, at the age of eighteen, he was actually put in charge of the
+ship _Danycan_ of fourteen guns,--for France was at war with England,
+Holland, and Spain, and to him who could strike a quick and well-aimed
+blow there were "nice pickings" to be had. And the reckless young
+sea-dog found some "nice pickings" in Ireland, for, he landed an armed
+party upon the coast of County Clare, where he pillaged a village,
+burned two ships at anchor, and escaped to his own vessel with
+considerable booty and family heirlooms of the peasants, who said,
+"Och, Begorra! We'll be afther that wild bhoy before many suns, and
+spank him for his unseemly whork."
+
+But the French cried "Voila! Here, indeed, is a brave young
+Bourgeois," and promptly raised him to the command of the _Coetquen_
+of eighteen guns, in which he soon went cruising, accompanied by a
+sister-ship, the _St. Aaron_.
+
+Prowling around the English channel, the skulking sea-hounds soon came
+across two small English men-of-war with five valuable merchantmen
+under their sheltering wings.
+
+"All ready for the attack!" shouted Du Guay-Trouin. "We'll make
+mince-meat of those foreign hulks, in spite of the fact that they are
+protected by two men-of-war."
+
+And, crowding on all sail, his own vessel and the _St. Aaron_ quickly
+bore down upon the Englishmen, who, seeing them approach, hove-to for
+action.
+
+The engagement was short. After a few broadsides had been delivered,
+the English struck, the prizes were taken over, and all started for
+the coast of France. But suddenly a cry went up,
+
+"Sail ho! Sail ho! off the starboard bow!"
+
+"Ta Donc," cried the surprised Du Guay-Trouin. "It is a big
+man-of-warsman and a Britisher too. We must give up our prizes, I
+fear. Clap on all canvas and we'll hie us to shore."
+
+So all sail was hoisted, and, steering for the shoals and rocks off
+Lundy Island--where he knew that the heavy Englishman could not
+follow--Du Guay-Trouin soon outdistanced and outwitted the
+_Centurion_: a line-of-battle ship and a formidable opponent. The rich
+prizes had to be left behind.
+
+Honorable appointments crowded upon the daring, young sea-dog, after
+this affair, and we find him successively in command of the _Profond_,
+of thirty-two guns; the _Hercule_, of twenty-eight guns, and the
+_Diligente_ of thirty-six guns and two hundred and fifty sailors,
+which was a King's ship borrowed for privateering and run on
+shares,--the monarch to have a certain part of the winnings.
+
+Like partners in business the _Diligente_ and _Hercule_ now went
+cruising, and it was not long before the two harpies swooped down upon
+their prey in the shape of two Dutch East Indiamen, armed with
+twenty-five guns each, and manned by rotund-bodied Dutchmen. There was
+rich treasure aboard, and, with eagerness and zeal, the Frenchmen
+slapped on all canvas in pursuit.
+
+Now was a hot chase. Mile after mile was passed, and slowly but surely
+the Frenchmen gained upon the lumbering foe. Then suddenly,--
+
+_Crash!_
+
+A ball screamed above the head of Du Guay-Trouin, and a Dutchman
+hove-to for battle.
+
+"Crawl in close," cried the valiant Frenchman, "and don't let go a
+broadside until you can hit 'em below the water line. Try to scuttle
+the Dutch lumber merchant!"
+
+His men obeyed him willingly and soon there was a muffled roar as the
+first broadside spoke in the still air. Another and another followed,
+and the Dutchman trembled like an aspen leaf.
+
+"Hah," shouted the enthusiastic Renee, "up goes the white flag!"
+
+Sure enough, the vessel struck, and aboard of her was the Dutch
+commodore. But the _Hercule_ was beaten off by the second Dutchman,
+and, as the privateers boarded the captured vessel, the East Indiaman
+showed a clean pair of heels, under a cloud of bellying canvas.
+
+Du Guay-Trouin was delighted. "On we go, Boys," he cried, "for we'll
+sail these waters until we strike another prize." And this is what
+soon happened.
+
+On May the 12th, the _Diligente_ was cruising alone, when, suddenly
+six white dots appeared upon the horizon, and six British
+ships-of-the-line were soon closing in upon the venturous French
+navigator and his crew.
+
+"Ye Gods," cried the doughty Frenchman, "we're in for it now, but we
+will give them a lively bout even though we'll get the worst of it."
+
+And here is how he has described the battle:
+
+"One of the English ships named _Adventure_ first overtook me, and we
+maintained a running fight for nearly four hours, before any other of
+their ships could come up....
+
+"At length my two topmasts were shot away; on which the _Adventure_
+ranged up alongside me, a short pistol-shot off, and hauled up her
+courses. Seeing her so near, it occurred to me to run foul of her and
+board her with my whole crew. Forthwith I ordered such of the officers
+as were near to send the people on deck, got ready the grapnels, and
+put the helm over.
+
+"We were just on the point of hooking on to her, when unfortunately,
+one of my Lieutenants, looking out through a port and seeing the two
+ships so close together, took it into his head that there was some
+mistake, as he could not think that--under the circumstances--I had
+any intention of boarding; and so, of himself, ordered the helm to be
+reversed.
+
+"I had no idea of what had been done, and was impatiently waiting for
+the two ships to clash together, ready to throw myself on board the
+enemy; but seeing that my ship did not obey her helm, I ran to the
+wheel, and found it had been changed without my order.
+
+"I had it again jammed hard on; but perceived, with the keenest
+vexation, that the captain of the _Adventure_, having guessed by the
+expression of my face what I had meant to do, had let fall his
+courses, and was sheering off. We had been so near that my bowsprit
+had broken his taffrail; but the mistake of my Lieutenant made me lose
+the opportunity of one of the most surprising adventures ever heard
+tell of.
+
+"In the determination I was in to perish or to capture this ship,
+which was much the fastest sailor of the squadron, it was more than
+probable that I should have succeeded, and should thus have taken back
+to France a much stronger ship than that which I abandoned. And, not
+to speak of the credit which would have attached to the execution of
+such a plan, it is quite certain that--being dismasted--there was
+absolutely no other way for me to escape from forces so superior."
+
+But closer--always closer--crowded the British war-dogs, and the
+valorous French seamen became panic stricken. "We are outnumbered and
+outfought," cried many, and, deserting their guns, they fled below to
+the holds, in spite of the vigorous protests of Du Guay-Trouin.
+
+"I was busy trying to put a stop to the panic," says he. "I had cut
+down one and pistolled another, when, to crown my misfortune, fire
+broke out in the gun-room. The fear of being blown up made it
+necessary for me to go below; but, having got the fire put out, I had
+a tub full of grenades brought me, and began throwing them down into
+the hold.
+
+"By this means I compelled the deserters to come up and to man some of
+the lower deck guns; but, when I went up on the poop, I found, to my
+astonishment and vexation, that some cowardly rascal had taken
+advantage of my absence to haul down the colors.
+
+"I ordered them to be hoisted again; but my officers represented that
+to do so would be simply giving up the remnant of my ship's company to
+be butchered by the English, who would give no quarter if the flag
+were hoisted again, after being struck for so long, and that further
+resistance was hopeless as the ship was dismasted."
+
+"Never give in, for"--cried Du Guay-Trouin, whose democratic blood was
+now up, but he did not finish the sentence as a spent shot then
+knocked him senseless. And--as he fell--the white flag went aloft, for
+his officers had not his fighting spirit.
+
+"Ah ha," laughed the English jack-tars. "We've got the French rascal
+at last, and we'll hold him too."
+
+So little Renee was imprisoned in a nice, dark dungeon,--the kind
+which the English used to put their poor debtors in. But--like a true
+man of courage--little Renee escaped, took to a smuggler's skiff, and
+made off to the coast of France, where he arrived on the 18th of June,
+1694, and was received right boisterously by the Trouin family.
+
+"My son," spoke his aged mother, "you were indeed not intended for the
+law, for lawlessness seems to be your particular fancy."
+
+So the delighted Trouins put him in charge of a splendid privateersman
+mounting forty-eight guns, sailing under the simple name of
+_Francois_, and, as she forged valiantly into the English channel, her
+skipper chanted an old French song, which ran,--
+
+    "Sons of St. Malo, hark to my lay,
+    With a Heave! Ho! Blow the man down.
+    For we'll capture a lugger ere close of the day,
+    With a Heave! Ho! Blow the man down.
+
+    "She's filled with gold nuggets, her crew is asleep,
+    Then board her, and take her, for dead men are cheap,
+    We'll spike them and pike them, like so many sheep.
+    With a Heave! Ho! Blow the man down."
+
+It was not long before a sail was sighted, and, on the 12th day of
+January, 1695, the stout, little _Francois_ overhauled a solitary
+timber ship, loaded with huge trees, bound to England from the good
+town of Boston in New England. She was an easy capture, and, Du
+Guay-Trouin smiled with joy when her skipper said:
+
+"Three other lumber ships are in the offing. But they are under convoy
+of the frigate _Nonsuch_ with forty-eight guns, and the _Falcon_ with
+thirty-eight cannon. Look out my bold sea-dog, there'll be trouble."
+
+But the French mariner laughed.
+
+"It's just what I'm searching for," said he, and forthwith he swung
+the stout _Francois_ in wide circles, with look-outs at every
+mast-head.
+
+"Sail ho!" shouted the watch, next morn, and there, off the port bow,
+were the three merchantmen strung out in a line, with the two
+protecting gun-boats to windward.
+
+Like a greyhound the _Francois_ swept down upon them, and with the
+audacity of despair, the privateersman of St. Malo ranged alongside of
+the _Falcon_ and opened fire. The engagement was short. In an hour's
+time the guns of the Englishman were silent and a white pennon
+fluttered from the mizzen-mast.
+
+The _Nonsuch_, meanwhile, had been ranging to windward in a vain
+endeavor to bring her guns to bear upon the Frenchman without
+crippling her own mate, and--as the _Francois_ drifted away from the
+lurching _Falcon_--she bore down to within twenty yards, luffed, and
+spanked a rakish broadside into the privateer.
+
+"Board her!" shouted Du Guay-Trouin. "Board her!" and, bringing the
+wheel close around, he swung the bow of the _Francois_ into the side
+of the Englishman. But, as the sailors scampered to the bulwarks with
+cutlass and with dirk, a sheet of flame burst from the port-holes of
+the drifting _Nonsuch_. She was afire.
+
+"Luff! Luff!" cried the keen-eyed French mariner, and the _Francois_
+drew away as the red flames curled upward with a cruel hiss.
+
+With a swift turn the helm again spun over, under the quick hand of Du
+Guay-Trouin, and the _Francois_ was jibed about in order to run under
+the port bow of the Englishman.
+
+"Hold, Captain!" cried a French Lieutenant. "We, ourselves, are
+afire!"
+
+As he spoke--a direful cloud of vapor rolled from the starboard
+quarter.
+
+"Alack!" answered the now furious Renee. "This puts an end to the
+fighting of this day, and we'd soon have had the second Britisher. All
+hands below and bucket out this fire!"
+
+So, as night fell upon the rolling ocean, the _Falcon_ lay drifting
+helplessly, while the _Nonsuch_ and the _Francois_ were burning like
+two beacons upon a jutting headland.
+
+As day broke, the _Francois_ filled away (for the fire had been
+extinguished after an hour's toil) and ranged within striking distance
+of the _Nonsuch_. A broadside belched from her starboard guns and an
+answering roar came back from the cannon of the Englishman. The fore
+and main masts of the _Nonsuch_ trembled for a moment--then tottered
+and fell--while the gallant Captain, struck in the chest by a flying
+piece of shell, fell dying upon the deck. Du Guay-Trouin again
+attempted to board, at this moment, but the third mast was shaking and
+he was forced to sheer off lest the tangle of yards and rigging should
+fall and crush his vessel. He hung within hailing distance of the
+crippled sea-warrior, and, seeing that his antagonist was now
+helpless, cried out through his trumpet:
+
+"Run up the white flag, or I'll give you a broadside that will sink
+you."
+
+No answering hail came from the deck of the battered _Nonsuch_, but
+the piece of a torn, white shirt was soon fluttering from the tangled
+rigging of the foremast. Thus the gallant Renee had defeated two
+warships of equal strength, and had captured vessels with a rich and
+valuable cargo. Now, don't you think that this fellow was a doughty
+sea rover? And, although the English made many excuses, the fact still
+remains that a single privateer had conquered double her own force in
+a fair and open fight upon the high seas.
+
+The sturdy _Francois_ could just barely drift into St. Malo--so badly
+crippled was she--but the rest came safely to port, in spite of a
+hard gale which blew down the masts of two of the lumber boats. And
+doughty Renee refitted the _Nonsuch_, transferred his flag to her,
+called her the _Sans-Pareil_, and flung his flag defiantly from her
+mast-head in spite of the fact that she was "made in England." All
+France was agog over his exploit.
+
+Now, know you, that doughty Renee was a "Blue;" a "Blue" being a man
+of the people (the bourgeoisie) who were not of aristocratic birth.
+And, as the French Royal Marine was the most exclusive body of
+officers in the world, birth and station being necessary for
+admittance therein, the titled office-holders threw up their hands
+when Du Guay-Trouin's name was mentioned for a place of command,
+saying,--
+
+"Why, he's only a beastly Democrat. Pooh! Bah! We do not care to have
+such a fellow among us." And they shrugged their shoulders.
+
+The officers of the French Royal Marine wore red breeches, and, if by
+chance a democrat were given a commission, he had to appear in blue
+small-clothes throughout his entire career. Very few of the "Blues"
+ever came to be an Admiral, for the odds were too great against them.
+
+But Renee had done so bravely and well that a sword was sent him by
+the King, who wrote,--
+
+"Should you wish a commission in the Royal Navy, good sir, it shall be
+yours."
+
+And to this, Du Guay-Trouin replied,--
+
+"I feel that I can do better where I am, Most Gracious Majesty. I
+will remain a Privateer." For Du Guay-Trouin wished to accumulate
+riches, as his forebears had done.
+
+So, cruising down the coast of Ireland, he fell in with three East
+Indiamen, whom he captured with ease, and, piloting them to St. Malo,
+declared a dividend of two thousand pounds ($10,000) a share, to the
+stockholders in his staunch vessel. And the value of the shares was
+but one hundred pounds ($500) each. Would not the men of Wall Street
+love such a fellow in these piping times of peace?
+
+A month later we find him cruising in the Bay of Biscay, where--in the
+dead of night--he ran into a great English fleet, roving about for just
+such vessels as the _Sans-Pareil_ and eager for a broadside at the
+French privateer. But young Renee--for he was now twenty-three--had not
+lost his nerve. "There was no time," he wrote, "for hesitation. I had
+two valuable prizes with me and ordered them to hoist Dutch colors and
+to run away to leeward, saluting me with seven guns each as they went.
+
+"Trusting to the goodness and soundness of the _Sans-Pareil_ I stood
+towards the fleet, as boldly and as peaceably as if I had really been
+one of their number, rejoining them after having spoken the Dutchmen.
+Two capital ships and a thirty-six gun frigate had at first left the
+fleet to overhaul me; but, on seeing what I was doing, the ships
+returned to their stations; the frigate--impelled by her unlucky
+fate--persisted in endeavoring to speak the two prizes, and I saw that
+she was rapidly coming up with them.
+
+"I had by this time joined the fleet, tranquil enough in appearance,
+though inwardly I was fuming at the prospect of my two prizes being
+taken by the frigate; and, as I perceived that my ship sailed much
+better than those of the enemy who were near me, I kept away little by
+little, at the same time forereaching on them. Suddenly, bearing up, I
+ran down to place myself between the prizes and the frigate.
+
+"I should have liked to lay aboard of her and carry her in sight of
+the whole fleet; but her captain, being suspicious, would not let me
+get within musket-shot of him, and sent his boat to help me. But, when
+the boat was half way, her people made out that we were French, and
+turned to go back; on which, seeing that we were discovered, I hoisted
+my white flag and poured my broadside into the frigate.
+
+"She answered with hers; but, not being able to sustain my fire, she
+hauled her wind, and with a signal of distress flying, stood to meet
+the captain's ship, which hastily ran down towards us. As they stopped
+to render her assistance, and to pick up her boat, I was able to
+rejoin my prizes, and, without misadventure, to take them to Port
+Louis."
+
+Again France rang with acclaim for the hero of this bold exploit, and
+again the King offered a commission to the gallant sea-dog. But Du
+Guay-Trouin shook his head.
+
+"Perhaps I will become an officer in the Royal Marine later on," said
+he. "But not now. I am too happy and successful as a Privateer."
+
+He was quite right, for in March, 1697, was his greatest exploit.
+
+While busily scanning the horizon for sail in the _St. Jacques des
+Victoires_, upon the thirteenth day of that auspicious month, he saw
+upon the horizon, a cluster of vessels. They drew near and proved to
+be the Dutch East India fleet convoyed by two fifty-gun ships and a
+thirty-gun sloop-of-war. With him was the _Sans-Pareil_ of forty-eight
+guns, and the little sloop-of-war _Lenore_, mounting fourteen. The
+hostile squadron was formidable, and Du Guay-Trouin hesitated to
+attack.
+
+In command of the Dutch vessels was Baron van Wassenaer, one of a
+family of famous sea-fighters from Holland, and he manoeuvred his
+ships with consummate skill; always interposing his own vessel between
+the French privateer and his fleet of merchantmen.
+
+"Ah-ha," cried gallant Renee, at this moment. "Here come some of my
+own boys."
+
+And--sure enough--from the direction of France, and boiling along
+under full canvas, rolled two privateersmen of St. Malo. Cheer after
+cheer went up from the deck of the _St. Jacques des Victoires_, as
+they pounded through the spray, for this made the contending parties
+about equal, although the Dutch boats were larger, heavier, and they
+had more guns aboard.
+
+The Dutchmen now formed in line. In front was the flagship--the
+_Delft_--with her fifty guns glowering ominously from the port-holes;
+second was the thirty-gun frigate; and third, the other war-hound of
+fifty guns: the _Hondslaardjiik_. Through a trumpet Du Guay-Trouin
+shrilled his orders.
+
+"The _Sans-Pareil_ will attack the _Hondslaardjiik_," cried he. "The
+two privateers will hammer the frigate, while I and the _St. Jacques
+des Victoires_ will attend to the _Delft_. The _Lenore_ will sail in
+among the convoy. Fight, and fight to win!"
+
+A fine breeze rippled the waves. The two squadrons were soon at each
+others' throats, and there upon the sobbing ocean a sea-fight took
+place which was one of the most stubborn of the ages.
+
+As the Frenchmen closed in upon the Dutch, the _Hondslaardjiik_
+suddenly left the line and crashed a broadside into the _St. Jacques
+des Victoires_. It staggered her, but she kept on, and--heading
+straight for her lumbering antagonist--ran her down. A splitting of
+timber, a crunch of boards, a growl of musketry, and, with a wild
+cheer, the Frenchmen leaped upon the deck of the Dutch warship; Du
+Guay-Trouin in the lead, a cutlass in his right hand, a spitting
+pistol in the left.
+
+_Crash! Crackle! Crash!_ An irregular fire of muskets and pistols
+sputtered at the on-coming boarders. But they were not to be stopped.
+With fierce, vindictive cheers the privateers of St. Malo hewed a
+passage of blood across the decking, driving the Dutchmen below,
+felling them upon the deck in windrows, and seizing the commander
+himself by the coat collar, after his cutlass had been knocked from
+his stalwart hand. The Dutchman was soon a prize, and her proud ensign
+came fluttering to the decking.
+
+But things were not going so well in other quarters. Disaster had
+attended the dash of the _Sans-Pareil_ upon the _Delft_. An exploding
+shell had set her afire and she lay derelict with a cloud of drifting
+smoke above, when suddenly, _Crash!_
+
+A terrible explosion shook the staunch, little vessel, her sides
+belched outward, and a number of sailors came shooting through the
+air, for a dozen loose cartridge boxes had been caught by the roaring
+flames. Helplessly she lolled in the sweep of the gray, lurching
+billows.
+
+"Hah!" shouted Van Wassenaer, as he saw his work. "Now for the saucy
+Du Guay-Trouin," and, twisting the helm of the _Sans-Pareil_, he soon
+neared the _St. Jacques des Victoires_, which was hanging to the
+_Delft_ like a leech, firing broadside after broadside with clock-like
+precision, her sea-dogs cheering as the spars crackled, the rigging
+tore; and splinters ricochetted from her sides.
+
+"Ready about!" cried Renee, wiping the sweat from his brow, "and board
+the _Hondslaardjiik_. Now for Van Wassenaer and let us show the
+Dutchman how a privateer from St. Malo can battle."
+
+So, luffing around in the steady breeze, the privateersman rolled
+ominously towards the lolling _Delft_. A crash, a sputter of pistols,
+a crushing of timber, and grappling hooks had pinioned the two
+war-dogs in a sinister embrace. And--with a wild yell--the Frenchmen
+plunged upon the reddened decking of the flagship of the courageous
+Van Wassenaer, who cried, "Never give in, Lads! What will they think
+of this in Holland!"
+
+There was a different reception than when the privateers rushed the
+_Hondslaardjiik_. The Dutch fought like wildcats. Three times the
+cheering, bleeding Frenchmen stormed the planking, and three times
+they were hurled back upon the slippery deck of their own ship;
+maddened, cursing, furious at their inability to take the foreigner.
+"The conflict was very bloody both by the very heavy fire on both
+sides, of guns, muskets, and grenades," says Du Guay-Trouin, "and by
+the splendid courage of the Baron Van Wassenaer, who received me with
+astonishing boldness."
+
+"Bear away," ordered the courageous Dutchman, at this juncture. "We
+must have time to recover and refit our ship."
+
+And--suiting the action to his words--the badly battered _Delft_
+filled, and crept well to leeward.
+
+Meanwhile the two privateers of St. Malo had captured the frigate as
+she lay helpless; a white flag beckoning for a prize crew.
+
+"The _Faluere_ will attack the _Delft_," shouted Du Guay-Trouin,
+running near the largest of these; a ship of thirty-eight guns. "I
+must have time to breathe and to refit."
+
+But stubborn Van Wassenaer was ready for his new antagonist. He
+received the privateer with such a furious fire that she turned tail
+and fled to leeward; her captain bleeding upon the poop, her crew
+cursing the blood which ran in the veins of the valorous Hollander.
+
+[Illustration: COMBAT BETWEEN DU GUAY-TROUIN AND VAN WASSENAER.]
+
+Du Guay-Trouin had now recovered his breath. Again the bellying canvas
+of the _St. Jacques des Victoires_ bore her down upon the _Delft_, and
+again the two war-dogs wrapped in deadly embrace. Hear the invincible
+Frenchman's own account of the final assault:
+
+"With head down," he writes, "I rushed against the redoubtable Baron,
+resolved to conquer or to perish. The last action was so sharp and so
+bloody that every one of the Dutch officers was killed or wounded.
+Wassenaer, himself, received four dangerous wounds and fell on his
+quarterdeck, where he was seized by my own brave fellows, his sword
+still in his hand.
+
+"The _Faluere_ had her share in the engagement, running alongside of
+me, and sending me forty men on board for reinforcement. More than
+half of my own crew perished in this action. I lost in it one of my
+cousins, first Lieutenant of my own ship, and two other kinsmen on
+board the _Sans-Pareil_, with many other officers killed or wounded.
+It was an awful butchery."
+
+But at last he had won, and the victorious pennon of the Privateer
+fluttered triumphant over the battered hulks which barely floated upon
+the spar-strewn water.
+
+"The horrors of the night," he writes, "the dead and dying below, the
+ship scarcely floating, the swelling waves threatening each moment to
+engulf her, the wild howling of the storm, and the iron-bound coast
+of Bretagne to leeward, were all together such as to try severely the
+courage of the few remaining officers and men.
+
+"At daybreak, however, the wind went down; we found ourselves near the
+Breton coast; and, upon our firing guns and making signals of
+distress, a number of boats came to our assistance. In this manner was
+the _St. Jacques_ taken into Port Louis, followed in the course of the
+day by the three Dutch ships-of-war, twelve of the merchant ships, the
+_Lenore_, and the two St. Malo privateers. The _Sans-Pareil_ did not
+get in till the next day, after having been twenty times upon the
+point of perishing by fire and tempest."
+
+Thus ended the great fight of Renee Du Guay-Trouin, whose blood, you
+see, was quite as blue as his breeches.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"Again," wrote His Majesty the King, "do I offer you a commission in
+the Royal Navy, Du Guay-Trouin. Will you accept? This time it is a
+Captaincy."
+
+"I do," replied little Renee,--quite simply--and, at the next dinner
+of the officers of the Royal Marines, they sang a chorus, which ran:
+
+    "Oh, yes, he's only a Democrat, his blood is hardly blue,
+    Oh, Sacre Nom de Dieu! Sapristi! Eet is true!
+    But he's a jolly tar dog, with dirk and pistol, too,
+    He fights like William the Conqueror, he fights!
+    Egad! that's true!
+    A health to Renee the terrible; soldier and sailor too."
+
+
+
+
+EDWARD ENGLAND
+
+TERROR OF THE SOUTH SEAS
+
+(1690?-_about_ 1725)
+
+
+    "A Privateer's not a Buccaneer, but they're pretty chummy friends,
+    One flies a reg'lar ensign, there's nothing that offends.
+    One sails 'neath Letters Legal, t'other 'neath Cross-Bones,
+    But, both will sink you, Sailor, or my name's not Davy Jones."
+
+                    --_Old Ballad._
+
+
+EDWARD ENGLAND
+
+TERROR OF THE SOUTH SEAS
+
+(1690?-_about_ 1725)
+
+    "If England wuz but wind an' paint,
+    How we'd hate him.
+      But he ain't."
+
+                    --_Log of the Royal James._
+
+
+"Hit him with a bottle, he deserves it, th' brute!"
+
+The man who spoke was a thick-set sailor of some forty-five summers,
+with a swarthy skin, a brownish mat of hair, a hard visage, and a cut
+across one eye. He stood upon the deck of a good-sized brig, which was
+drowsily lolling along the coast of Africa.
+
+"Yes, he treated us like dogs aboard th' _Cuttlefish_. Here, give me a
+shot at 'im."
+
+Thus cried another sailor--a toughish customer also--and, as his voice
+rang out, a dozen more came running to the spot.
+
+Cringing before the evil gaze of the seamen stood the Captain of a
+Bristol merchantman--the _Cadogan_--which lay a boat's length away,
+upon the glassy surface of a rocking sea.
+
+Again rang out the harsh tones of him who had first spoken.
+
+"Ah, Captain Skinner, it is you, eh? You are the very person I wished
+to see. I am much in your debt, and I shall pay you in your own coin."
+
+The poor Captain trembled in every joint, and said, with a curious
+chattering of his teeth,
+
+"Yes, Edward England, you've got me now. But go easy like, will yer? I
+always was a friend o' yourn."
+
+"Yer didn't look like a friend on th' old _Jamaica_, when you refused
+to pay me my wages," interrupted the first speaker. "Yer didn't remove
+me to 'er cursed man-o'-warsman, did yer? Yer didn't see that I got
+th' cat-o'-nine-tails on my back, did yer? Now, Mr. Skinner, it's my
+chance ter get even. Tie him ter th' windlass, boys, and we'll fix th'
+feller's hash."
+
+With a jeering laugh the sailors seized the frightened man, roped him
+tightly to the desired prop, and, procuring a lot of glass bottles,
+pelted him with them until their arms were tired.
+
+"You wuz a good master to me, Captain Skinner," cried one. "Now you're
+gettin' a dose of your own medicine. Overboard with him, Boys."
+
+And, suiting the action to the words, he seized him by the collar. The
+ropes were unwound. The poor wretch was dragged to the rail, and, as
+his body spun out into the oily sea, a shot ended the life of poor
+Thomas Skinner of the _Cadogan_ from Bristol. Captain Edward England
+and his men had had a sweet and sure revenge.
+
+Where this reckless mariner was born, it is difficult to ascertain.
+We know that he started life honestly enough, for he was mate of a
+sloop that sailed from Jamaica, about the year 1715, and was taken by
+a pirate called Captain Winter. The youthful sailor soon took up the
+careless ways of his captors, and it was not many years before he
+became Captain of his own vessel: a sloop flying the black flag with a
+skull and cross-bones.
+
+Off the east coast of Africa he soon took a ship called the _Pearl_,
+for which he exchanged his own sloop, fitting the new vessel up for
+piratical service, after rechristening her the _Royal James_. Cruising
+about in this staunch craft, he captured several ships of different
+sizes and flying the flags of many nations. He was rich and
+prosperous.
+
+"Captain," said one of his reckless followers, at this time,
+"man-o'-warsmen are gettin' too thick in these parts for an honest
+sailor. Let's get across th' pond to th' Brazilian coast."
+
+"You're quite right," answered England. "We've got to look for other
+pickings. After we provision-up, we'll sail towards th' setting sun.
+That's a fresh field and we can have it to ourselves."
+
+So all made ready for a trans-Atlantic voyage.
+
+But Captain England was in error when he said that he was sailing for
+fields which had never before been touched. Two other piratical
+vessels: the _Revenge_ and the _Flying King_, had been cruising off
+the coast of Brazil, just before his advent. Fighting in partnership,
+they had taken two Portuguese schooners, and were making off with
+them, when a Portuguese man-o'-warsman came booming along under full
+canvas. She was an unwelcome guest.
+
+Setting all sail the two pirates had attempted to get away and the
+_Revenge_ succeeded in doing so. Two days later a typhoon struck her
+and she was soon swinging bottom upwards, with the kittiwakes
+shrieking over her barnacled keel.
+
+But the revengeful man-o'-warsman ploughed relentlessly after the
+_Flying King_, which could not fly quite fast enough, this time,
+and--in despair--was run, bows on, upon the shore, where the crew
+scrambled to the sand in a desperate endeavor to get away. The sailors
+from the man-o'-warsman were speedy; they shot twelve of the
+buccaneers, took the rest prisoners (there were seventy in all) and
+hanged thirty-eight to the yard-arm. News of this came to Captain
+England when he neared the tropic coast of Brazil.
+
+"It's all in a life-time," said he. "If I'm captured, of course I'll
+swing. But, meanwhile, I hope to have a good life."
+
+Not many days afterwards he heard the welcome sound of:
+
+"Sail ho! Off the port bow!"
+
+And raising the glass to his eye discovered two fat,
+prosperous-looking merchant ships, slipping quietly along like an old
+maid fresh from market.
+
+"Slap on all sail and give chase!" was bellowed out in stentorian
+tones, and the _Royal James_ was soon fairly boiling along with every
+stitch aloft, which she could carry.
+
+As she neared the merchantmen, the names came plainly to view: the
+_Peterborough_ of Bristol, and the _Victory_ of Liverpool, but a shot
+screamed across the bowsprit of the latter and victory was turned into
+defeat. A white flag was fluttering at her mainmast in a moment, for
+the Captain had no stomach for a fight.
+
+"Egad, it's a pirate," said the good seaman in despair, as the black
+flag with the skull and cross-bones fluttered from the rigging of his
+capturer. "I thought she was a privateersman under Letters of Marque.
+It's all up with us."
+
+As the boat-load of boarders came bobbing alongside he cried out,
+
+"Mercy! Have mercy upon the souls of these poor wretches who sail with
+me."
+
+The pirates guffawed, helped themselves to everything of value, and
+took the merchantmen with them to the coast of Brazil, where the crew
+were allowed to escape to the shore. The _Peterborough_ was
+re-christened the _Victory_ and was manned by half of England's crew,
+while the other vessel was burned at night; the pirates dancing on the
+beach to the light of the flames and singing the weird songs of the
+sea.
+
+Now there was a scene of wild revel upon the Brazilian coast; but the
+natives grew angry at the conduct of these rough men of the ocean.
+
+"Ugh!" spoke a chief, "we must drive them away, else they will burn
+our own villages as they did their houses upon the water."
+
+One peaceful evening the followers of Captain England were hard beset
+by fully a thousand black-skinned warriors from the Brazilian jungle.
+
+There was a fierce battle. The negroes were pressed back upon their
+principal town and were driven through it on the run, for their arrows
+and spears were not as effective as the guns and pistols of the
+English, Dutch, Spaniards and Portuguese, who had adopted a piratical
+career. Their thatched huts were set on fire, and, satisfied with the
+day's work, the pirates retired to their ships, where a vote was cast
+where was to be their next venture. It fell to the East Indies and the
+Island of Madagascar. So they set sail, singing an old ballad which
+ran,
+
+    "Heave the lead and splice th' topsail,
+    Tie her down, and let her fill,
+    We're agoin' to Madagascar,
+    Where th' little tom-tits trill,
+
+    "Bill an' coo, an' sing so sweetly,
+    In th' dronin' hours of noon,
+    That you want to die there, neatly,
+    Just drop off into 'er swoon."
+
+The voyage across was a good one and the pirates captured two East
+Indiamen and a Dutchman, bound to Bombay. These they exchanged for one
+of their own vessels, and then set out for Madagascar Island, where
+several of their hands were set ashore with tents and ammunition, to
+kill such beasts and venison as the place afforded.
+
+Then they sailed for the Isle of Juanna,--not a great distance from
+Madagascar,--and here had as keen a little engagement as ever
+employed a piratical crew. Hear the story of this fight in the words
+of Captain Mackra, an English sea-captain who happened at that time to
+be in the harbor.
+
+                               "BOMBAY, November 16th, 1720.
+
+    "We arrived on the 25th of July last, in company with
+    the _Greenwich_, at Juanna, an island not far from
+    Madagascar. Putting in there to refresh our men, we
+    found fourteen pirates who came in their canoes from the
+    Mayotta (island) where the pirate ship to which they
+    belonged, the _Indian Queen_--two hundred and fifty
+    tons, twenty-eight guns, commanded by Captain Oliver de
+    la Bouche, bound from the Guinea coast to the East
+    Indies--had been bulged (run ashore) and lost. They said
+    they left the Captain and forty men building a new
+    vessel, to proceed upon their wicked designs.
+
+    "Captain Kirby and I concluding that it might be of
+    great service to the East India Company to destroy such
+    a nest of rogues, were ready to sail for this purpose on
+    the 17th of August, about eight o'clock in the morning,
+    when we discovered two pirates standing into the Bay of
+    Juanna, one of thirty-four and the other of thirty-six
+    guns.
+
+    "I immediately went on board the _Greenwich_ where they
+    seemed very diligent in preparation for an engagement,
+    and I left Captain Kirby with mutual understanding of
+    standing by each other. I then unmoored, got under sail,
+    and brought two boats ahead to row me close to the
+    _Greenwich_; but he being open to a breeze, made the
+    best of his way from me; which an Ostender in our
+    company of twenty-two guns, seeing, did the same, though
+    the Captain had promised heartily to engage with us,
+    and, I believe would have been as good as his word, if
+    Captain Kirby had kept his.
+
+    "About half an hour after twelve, I called several times
+    to the _Greenwich_ to bear down to our assistance, and
+    fired a shot at him, but to no purpose; for, though we
+    did not doubt but he would join us, because, when he got
+    about a league from us he brought his ship to and looked
+    on; yet both he and the Ostender basely deserted us, and
+    left us engaged with barbarous and inhuman enemies, with
+    their black and bloody flags hanging over us, without
+    the least appearance of ever escaping, but to be cut to
+    pieces.
+
+    "But God in his good providence, determined otherwise;
+    for, notwithstanding their superiority, we engaged them
+    both about three hours, during which time the biggest of
+    them received some shot betwixt wind and water, which
+    made her keep a little off, to stop her leaks. The other
+    endeavored all she could to board us, by rowing with her
+    oars, being within half a ship's length of us about an
+    hour; but, by good fortune, we shot all her oars to
+    pieces, which prevented them from getting in close, and
+    consequently saved our lives.
+
+[Illustration: "'LEFT US ENGAGED WITH BARBAROUS AND INHUMAN ENEMIES.'"]
+
+    "About four o'clock most of the officers and men posted
+    on the quarter-deck being killed and wounded, the
+    largest ship made up to us with diligence, after giving
+    us a broadside. There now being no hopes of Captain
+    Kirby's coming to our assistance, we endeavored to run
+    ashore; and though we drew four feet of water more than
+    the pirate, it pleased God that he stuck fast on a
+    higher ground than happily we fell in with; so was
+    disappointed a second time from boarding us.
+
+    "Here we had a more violent engagement than before. All
+    of my officers and most of my men behaved with
+    unexpected courage; and, as we had a considerable
+    advantage by having a chance to hurl a broadside into
+    his bow, we did him great damage. Had Captain Kirby come
+    in then, I believe we should have taken both the
+    vessels, for we had one of them, sure.
+
+    "The other pirate (who was still firing at us) seeing
+    the _Greenwich_ did not offer to assist us, supplied his
+    consort with three boats full of fresh men. About five
+    in the evening the _Greenwich_ stood clear away to sea,
+    leaving us struggling hard for life, in the very jaws of
+    death; which the other pirate that was afloat, seeing,
+    got a hawser out, and began to haul under our stern.
+
+    "By this time many of my men were being killed and
+    wounded, and no hopes left us of escaping being all
+    murdered by enraged barbarous conquerors, I ordered all
+    that could to get into the long-boat, under the cover of
+    the smoke from our guns; so that, with what some did in
+    boats, and others by swimming, most of us that were able
+    got ashore by seven o'clock.
+
+    "When the pirates came aboard, they cut three of our
+    wounded men to pieces. I, with some of my people, made
+    what haste I could to Kings-town, twenty-five miles from
+    us; where I arrived next day, almost dead with the
+    fatigue and loss of blood, having been sorely wounded in
+    the head by a musket-ball.
+
+    "At this town I heard that the pirates had offered ten
+    thousand dollars to the country people to bring me in,
+    which many of them would have accepted, only they knew
+    that the king and all his chief people were in my
+    interest. Meanwhile I caused a report to be circulated
+    that I was dead of my wounds, which much abated their
+    fury.
+
+    "We had, in all, thirteen killed and twenty-four
+    wounded; and we were told that we destroyed about
+    ninety, or a hundred, of the pirates. I am persuaded
+    that, had our consort the _Greenwich_ done her duty, we
+    could have destroyed both of them, and got two hundred
+    thousand pounds ($1,000,000.00) for our owners and
+    ourselves."
+
+What say you to this fight? And to think that our own good friend
+Captain Mackra just missed being a millionaire! Weep for the gallant
+sea warrior!
+
+At any rate he got safely away, for, at length going aboard one of the
+piratical vessels,--under a flag of truce--he discovered that several
+of the wild sea-robbers knew him; some of them--even--had sailed with
+him in earlier years.
+
+"I found this to be of great advantage," he writes. "For,
+notwithstanding their promise not to harm me, some of them would have
+cut me to pieces, had it not been for their chief, Captain Edward
+England, and some others whom I knew."
+
+And he used his powers of persuasion to such effect that: "They made
+me a present of the shattered ship--which was Dutch built--called the
+_Fancy_, her burden being about three hundred tons.
+
+"With jury-masts, and such other old sails as they left me, I set sail
+on September 8th, with forty-three of my ship's crew, including two
+passengers and twelve soldiers. After a passage of forty-eight days I
+arrived at Bombay on the 26th of October, almost naked and starved,
+having been reduced to a pint of water a day, and almost in despair of
+ever seeing land, by reason of the calms we met with between the coast
+of Arabia and Malabar."
+
+The gallant writer of this interesting description was certainly in
+imminent danger of his life, when he trusted himself upon the pirate
+ship, and unquestionably nothing could have justified such a hazardous
+step but the desperate circumstances in which he was placed. The honor
+and influence of Captain England, however, protected him and his men
+from the wrath of the crew, who would willingly have wreaked their
+vengeance upon those who had dealt them such heavy blows in the recent
+fight.
+
+But the generosity of Captain England toward the unfortunate Mackra
+proved to be calamitous to himself.
+
+"You are no true pirate," cried one of his crew. "For a buccaneer
+never allows his foes to get away."
+
+"No! No!" shouted others. "This fighting Mackra will soon come
+against us with a strong force. You did wrong in letting him escape."
+
+"To the yard-arm with the traitor!" sounded from the throat of many a
+ruffianly seaman.
+
+Thus grew the feeling of mutiny--and the result of these murmurs of
+discontent--was that Captain England was put ashore by the cruel
+villains; and, with three others was marooned upon the island of
+Mauritius. Had they not been destitute of every necessity they might
+have been able to live in comfort, for the island abounds in deer,
+hogs, and other animals. Dissatisfied, however, with this solitary
+situation, Captain England and his three men exerted their industry
+and ingenuity, built a small boat, and sailed to Madagascar, where
+they lived upon the generosity of some more fortunate piratical
+companions.
+
+But can a pirate remain happy when not pirating?
+
+"Away with this life," cried Captain England. "I pine for more
+treasure and for battle. Let's out and to sea!"
+
+"Good! Good!" said his mates. "Let's ship aboard another vessel and
+get away from here."
+
+So, they again took to the ocean, but what became of Edward England is
+not known.
+
+Some say that he was killed in a brawl; some that he was again
+marooned and was adopted by a savage tribe; some that he perished in a
+fight upon the Indian Ocean. At any rate that rough and valiant soul
+is lost to history, and--somewhere--in the vast solitude of the
+Southern Hemisphere, lie the bleaching bones of him who had flaunted
+the skull-and-cross-bones upon the wide highway of the gleaming
+wastes of salty brine. His was a rough and careless life. Do not
+emulate the career of Edward England!
+
+
+    Near the straits of Madagascar; near the sobbing oceans' roar,
+    A ghostly shape glides nightly, by the beady, kelp-strewn shore.--
+    As the Cubic monkeys chatter; as the Bulbul lizards hiss,
+    Comes a clear and quiet murmur, like a Zulu lover's kiss.
+    The flying-fishes scatter; the chattering magpies scream,
+    The topaz hummers dart and dip; their jewelled feathers gleam.
+    The mud-grimed hippos bellow; the dove-eyed elands bleat,
+    When the clank of steel disturbs them, and the beat of sandalled feet.
+    The pirate crew is out to-night, no rest is for their souls,
+    The blood of martyrs moves them; they charge a million tolls.
+    On! On! Their souls must hasten. On! On! Their shapes must go,
+    While the limpid rushes quiver, and the beast-lapped waters glow.
+    No rest for Captain England. No rest, for King or pawn,
+    On! On! Their feet must wander. On! On! Forever on!
+
+
+
+
+SONG OF THE PIRATE
+
+
+    "To the mast nail our flag! it is dark as the grave,
+    Or the death which it bears while it sweeps o'er the wave;
+    Let our decks clear for action, our guns be prepared;
+    Be the boarding-axe sharpened, the scimetar bared:
+    Set the canisters ready, and then bring to me,
+    For the last of my duties, the powder-room key.
+    It shall never be lowered, the black flag we bear,
+    If the sea be denied us, we sweep through the air.
+    Unshared have we left our last victory's prey;
+    It is mine to divide it, and yours to obey:
+    There are shawls that might suit a Sultana's white neck,
+    And pearls that are fair as the arms they will deck;
+    There are flasks which, unseal them, the air will disclose
+    Diametta's fair summers, the home of the rose.
+    I claim not a portion: I ask but as mine--
+    But to drink to our victory--one cup of red wine.
+    Some fight, 'tis for riches--some fight, 'tis for fame:
+    The first I despise, and the last is a name.
+    I fight 'tis for vengeance! I love to see flow,
+    At the stroke of my sabre, the life of my foe.
+    I strike for the memory of long-vanished years;
+    I only shed blood where another sheds tears,
+    I come, as the lightning comes red from above,
+    O'er the race that I loathe, to the battle I love."
+
+
+
+
+WOODES ROGERS
+
+THE BRISTOL MARINER
+
+(?-1736)
+
+
+    "If you want to win a lass, or a sea fight; don't
+    cajole. Sail in!"--_Old Proverb._
+
+
+WOODES ROGERS
+
+THE BRISTOL MARINER
+
+(?-1736)
+
+    For he can fight a Spaniard, like a Tipperary cat,
+    For he can sack a city, like a _blawsted_, rangy rat;
+    Woodes Rogers was a Gentleman, from Bristol-town he sailed,
+    An' his crew came from th' prisons, an' were
+                                                Bailed,
+                                                    Bailed,
+                                                        Bailed.
+
+
+"Yes, you can have the _Duke_ and the _Duchess_. They are both staunch
+craft and we expect to get a good return for our investment in them."
+
+The fellow who spoke--a stout-bodied Quaker--looked quizzically at a
+bronzed sea-captain, who, cap in hand, stood before him. By his side
+were seated a number of merchants, fat, sleek, contented-looking. They
+were giving instructions to Captain Woodes Rogers: their
+privateersman, who was about to make a voyage of adventure in their
+behalf.
+
+"My good friends," said the mariner, "I shall do my very best for you
+all. The French and Spaniards have been having it all their own way in
+the South seas. It is about time that the English had a share in the
+rich spoils of that treasure highway. I shall work my hardest for
+you."
+
+The merchants, ship-owners and Quakers nodded.
+
+"May Providence guide your course aright," said they. And--as Captain
+Woodes Rogers went off to inspect his privateersmen--all indulged in a
+glass of Madeira to pledge "good luck and good health" to the staunch
+seaman from Bristol.
+
+It was not many weeks before the _Duke_ (of three hundred and twenty
+tons) with thirty guns and one hundred and seventeen men, and the
+_Duchess_ (of two hundred and sixty tons) with twenty-six guns and one
+hundred and eight men, sailed from King Road for Cork, in Ireland.
+
+"Egad!" cried Captain Rogers, as they passed out to sea. "Our rigging
+is slack. Our decks are lumbered up. Our stores are badly stowed. Our
+crew is so very mixed that I must stop in Ireland to get more able
+sea-dogs. Was ever captain in a worse fix?"
+
+His Lieutenants grinned, for they saw that things were in a sorry
+mess, indeed.
+
+"Most of us have embraced this trip around the world in order to
+retrieve our fortunes," continued the captain. "Did you ever see a
+harder crew than this? There are tinkers, tailors, haymakers,
+peddlers, fiddlers, a negro and ten boys. None know how to use the
+cutlass and they haven't got any sea-legs. Well, well; I'll make the
+best of it, but it's hard goin', I assure you."
+
+And still the Lieutenants grinned.
+
+They grinned still more when they had lain a few days at Cork, for the
+crew were continually marrying, although they expected to sail
+immediately. However, as the two privateers got under way on
+September 1st,--with the _Hastings_, a man-of-war--the majority of the
+crew drank a health to their spouses; waved their hands to them over
+the rail; and "parted unconcerned." Truly, a sailor has a lass in
+every port.
+
+Not many days after their out-going, a sail was sighted and all speed
+was made to capture her. The Swedish colors fluttered from her
+mast-head, and she hove to at the first gun. Rogers boarded.
+
+"No contraband goods are here," said he, after looking into the hold.
+"We must let her off."
+
+Then--turning to her captain--he said,
+
+"You can go. I am not a pirate--but a privateer--sailing under Letters
+of Marque. I only seize goods that are contraband."
+
+Bobbing and courtesying on the waves, the little Swede soon drifted
+from view.
+
+But the crew grew mutinous,--for had they not come out for plunder?
+The boatswain even called Rogers a traitor.
+
+"Seize the fellow and flog him," cried the sturdy captain. "Put ten of
+these talkative hounds in irons. We'll do the talking on this boat,
+and the sailors must do theirs in the fo'castle."
+
+This was done immediately.
+
+Next day a seaman came aft, with near half the ship's company in his
+rear, and cried:
+
+"I demand the boatswain out of his irons, Captain Rogers. He's done
+nothing to deserve such a severe punishment."
+
+"Speak with me privately, on the quarter-deck," said the bluff
+commander. "I cannot discuss this matter with you in such a crowd."
+And he moved aft.
+
+The grumbler followed, but, no sooner was he alone with stout Woodes,
+than the captain sprang upon him with the agility of a leopard. He was
+thrown to the ground, held, and bound by two officers. Then he was
+stripped and whipped until the blood ran.
+
+"This method," writes the doughty Woodes, "I deemed best for breaking
+any unlawful friendship among the mutinous crew. It allayed the
+tumult, so that they began to submit quietly and those in irons begged
+my pardon, and promised amendment."
+
+Thus the captain had won the first round with the mutineers.
+
+Now, know you, that the War of the Spanish Succession was then in
+progress; a war in which one party was endeavoring to put the Archduke
+Charles of Austria upon the Spanish throne; another to place Philip,
+grandson of Louis XIV of France, in the chair of the rulers. And
+when--a few days later--the two privateers captured a small Spanish
+vessel, they found that their possession of it was disputed, when they
+sailed into the Canaries.
+
+"It has been agreed between Queen Anne of England and the Kings of
+Spain and France," said the Vice-Consul of that place--an
+Englishman--"that all vessels trading to the Canary Isles shall be
+exempt from interference by men-o'-war, or privateers. The prize must
+be released. If you do not do so, we will keep your agent, Mr.
+Vanbrugh, who has come ashore, and will throw him into irons."
+
+But the Vice-Consul had reckoned without his host.
+
+"We are apprehensive that you are obliged to give us this advice in
+order to gratify the Spaniards," wrote Captain Rogers. "If you do not
+allow my agent to come on board my ship, you may expect a visit from
+my guns at eight o'clock to-morrow morn."
+
+To this there was no reply.
+
+Next day the two English privateers stood in close to shore, and, just
+as the shot was rammed home, a boat put off, in the stern of which sat
+Mr. Vanbrugh with a present of wine, grapes, hogs and jelly. The prize
+which had been captured was sent back to Bristol with a picked crew.
+
+The two sea-rovers bore towards the South--soon crossed the Tropic of
+Cancer--and there had appropriate ceremonies for the occasion. The
+tinkers, peddlers, fiddlers, and tailors who made up the crew, were
+each and all hoisted overboard by a rope. A stick was placed between
+their legs and they were ducked again and again in the brine.
+
+"If any man wants to get off," spoke Captain Rogers, "he can do so by
+paying me a half-a-sovereign ($2.50) which must be expended on an
+entertainment for the rest of the company when England shall be
+reached. Every man that is ducked is paid in proportion to the number
+of times that he goes under."
+
+Several accepted this offer. At which a sailor cried out:
+
+"Duck me twelve times, Captain. I want to have a regular orgy when I
+get back home."
+
+And the sailors did it, laughing uproariously.
+
+Sailing to the Cape Verde Islands, the _Duke_ and the _Duchess_
+anchored in the harbor of St. Vincent, where one of the crew, who was
+a good linguist (Joseph Alexander) was sent in a boat to the Governor,
+at San Antonio, in order to negotiate for supplies. He seemed to
+prefer Cape Verde to privateering.
+
+"On October 6th," writes the gallant Rogers, "our boat went to San
+Antonio to get our linguist, according to appointment. No news of
+him."
+
+"On October 6th, our boat returned with nothing but limes and tobacco.
+No news of our linguist."
+
+"On October 7th, no news of our linguist."
+
+"On the 8th, boat sent ashore, but no news of our linguist."
+
+"On the 9th, as the trade-winds are blowing fresh, concluded to leave
+our good Alexander to practice his linguistic and other
+accomplishments ashore. Adieu to our linguist."
+
+Thus disappeared the sleek and crafty Joseph.
+
+There was still trouble from insubordination, for Mr. Page--second
+mate of the _Duchess_--refused to accompany Mr. Cook (second in
+command on the _Duke_). Whereupon the hot-tempered Captain Cook--being
+the superior officer on board--struck him, and several blows were
+interchanged.
+
+At last Page was forced into the boat and brought to the _Duke_, where
+he was ordered to the forecastle in the bilboes (leg irons sliding
+upon a long, iron bar). But he jumped overboard--despising the chance
+of being gobbled up by a shark--and started to swim to his own ship.
+He was brought back, flogged, and put in irons; and he evidently
+found a week of this kind of thing sufficient; for he submitted
+himself humbly to future orders.
+
+Thus Woodes Rogers had already learned that the life of a privateer
+commander was not a happy one.
+
+Steering southwest, a large French ship was seen and chased, but she
+got away from the two consorts with surprising ease. On March 6th,
+when off the coast of Peru, a sail was sighted.
+
+"Let the _Duchess_ bear down on her port and the _Duke_ to starboard,"
+cried Captain Rogers. "Heave a solid shot across her bow, and, if she
+refuses to capitulate, let her have your broadsides."
+
+Dipping, tossing, rolling; the two privateers swooped down upon their
+prey, like hawks. She flew the yellow flag of Spain--and--as the first
+ball of lead cut across her bowsprit, it fluttered to the deck. Up
+went a white shirt, tied to a rat-line, and the crew from the _Duke_
+was soon in charge, and steering her for Lobas: a harbor on the coast.
+
+"She's a tight little barque," said Rogers, when he had landed. "I'll
+make her into a privateer."
+
+So she was hauled up, cleaned, launched, and christened the
+_Beginning_; with a spare topmast from the _Duke_ as a mast, and an
+odd mizzen-topsail altered for a sail. Four swivel-guns were mounted
+upon her deck, and, as she pounded out of the bay, loud cheers greeted
+her from the decks of the _Duchess_, which was loafing outside,
+watching for a merchantman to capture and pillage.
+
+Next morn two sails were sighted, and both _Duke_ and _Duchess_
+hastened to make another haul. As they neared them, one was seen to be
+a stout cruiser from Lima; the other a French-built barque from
+Panama; richly laden, it was thought.
+
+"Broadsides for both," ordered Woodes Rogers. "Broadsides and good
+treatment when the white flag flutters aloft."
+
+As the _Duchess_ chased the Lima boat, the _Duke_ neared the Frenchman
+and spanked a shot at her from a bow-gun. The sea ran high and she did
+not wish to get too close and board, because it would be easier to
+send her men in pinnaces.
+
+"They're afraid!" cried the Captain of the _Duke_. "We can take 'em
+with no exertion." But he was like many an Englishman: despised his
+foe only to find him a valiant one.
+
+Piling into four boats, the men from the _Duke_, fully armed, rowed
+swiftly towards the rolling Frenchman. They approached to within
+twenty yards. Then
+
+_Crash! Crash! Rattle! Crash!_
+
+A sheet of flame burst from her sides; muskets and pistols spoke;
+cannon spat grape and cannister; the Englishmen were frightfully cut
+up.
+
+"On! On!" shouted young John Rogers--a brother of Woodes--as he waved
+his cutlass aloft to enliven the sailors. But it was his last cry. A
+bullet struck him in the forehead, and he fell into the sea without a
+murmur.
+
+_Crash! Crash!_
+
+Again roared out a volley. Oars were splintered. One boat was pierced
+below the water line. She sank, and her men floundered about upon the
+surface of the oily sea.
+
+"Bear off, and rescue our comrades!" cried the leaders of this futile
+attack, and, as the French barque drifted away, the remaining boats
+busied themselves with the swimming sailors. The assault had been a
+complete failure.
+
+"Curses upon the Frenchman!" cried Captain Rogers when he saw the
+saucy fighter drawing off. "We'll go after her to-morrow, and catch
+her, or my blood's not English. What say you, men?"
+
+"Yes. After her and board her amid-ships!" cried all. "Run our own
+vessel alongside."
+
+"And that I will do," answered Rogers, watching the lumbering
+merchantman through his glass. "She's entirely too well armed for a
+trader."
+
+When morning dawned, the Frenchman was still ploughing along the coast
+in the light breeze, with all sail set. But there was not wind enough
+to force her ahead of her pursuer. The _Duchess_ now returned from her
+chase of the Lima boat, and, joining her _Duke_, bore in upon the able
+fighter from the open sea.
+
+"Egad! We'll have her yet," shouted Captain Rogers, rubbing his hands.
+
+"She luffs!" cried a lieutenant. "She's coming to!"
+
+Sure enough the Frenchman saw that resistance now was useless. She
+staggered into the wind, and a white flag beckoned for a prize-crew to
+come and take her.
+
+"And," writes Captain Rogers, "I found that a Bishop who had been
+aboard of her, had been put ashore, which gave me much grief. For I
+always love to catch fat prelates, as they give up a stout sum as
+their ransom. In truth they are nice pickings."
+
+Things were going well with the wild rovers from Bristol. Plunder
+there was aplenty and the holds of the _Duke_ and the _Duchess_ bulged
+with treasure. Yet Woodes Rogers was not satisfied.
+
+"On! On to Guayaquil!" cried he. "We'll capture this wealthy city;
+demand a great ransom; and sail to England, richer than the Spanish
+conquerors of the Incas."
+
+"Hurrah!" shouted his staunch followers. "On! On! to Guayaquil!"
+
+So--steering for the coast of Ecuador--the privateers drew near this
+rich Spanish-American town. A gulf lay before their eyes in which was
+a small island; with a little, white-housed village (called Puna) on
+its Eastern shore.
+
+"Take the place!" cried Rogers, as the two ships forged into the
+sleepy shallows, and rounded to before the peaceful habitation.
+
+With a cheer, the sailors piled into the boats, rowed ashore,
+and--with cutlass and dirk in hand--pressed through the narrow
+streets. Shots rang out from a few of the thatched houses; two seamen
+fell to the ground with mortal wounds; but, cheering wildly, the
+privateers rushed through the narrow highway; pressed into the
+court-house; and seized upon the Lieutenant-Governor of the town of
+Guayaquil, as he was attempting to hide behind an old clothes-press.
+
+"Let no man get away in order to warn the large town of our
+approach!" shouted Captain Rogers. "Catch all who dash for the canoes
+upon the beach!"
+
+"Crush the bloomin' canoes!" yelled Cook, as he saw some of the
+natives running towards them on the sandy shore. "Crush the canoes
+before the devils can get there!"
+
+"All right!" answered several of his men, as they ran for the clusters
+of boats. "We'll put holes in them!"
+
+As they hurried forward, several of the natives were ahead. Two jumped
+into the bark boats and paddled furiously for Guayaquil. The _zip_,
+_zip_ of bullets nipped the water around them, but,--with desperate
+sweeps--they dug their blades into the sea and got safely off. As a
+result, the city was all ready and prepared for the invaders.
+
+"Ho! Ho!" laughed Rogers, as he thumbed the papers of the
+Lieutenant-Governor. "What is this?"
+
+"A warning to the townsfolk of Guayaquil," said one of his men, as he
+peered over his shoulder.
+
+Rogers chuckled.
+
+"Beware, all you people"--he read--"of a squadron from the faraway
+isles of Great Britain which is coming shortly upon you. There will be
+full ten great ships, heavily manned and well armed for attack. The
+arch rogue, William Dampier, will be in control,--he who has plundered
+Puna before. Be on your guard, citizens! Be prepared! Arm yourselves!"
+
+"Hah! Hah!" laughed the free-booting captain. "They think I'm
+Dampier. That's good. But we'll have a tough time with them, for they
+know that we mean to assault their pretty little town."
+
+His followers looked solemn.
+
+"Let's attack, right away," cried several, "before the Spaniards have
+time to prepare for our charge!"
+
+Rogers, however, would not hear of it.
+
+"We must rest. Equip ourselves. Place cannon in the bows of our boats,
+and then we will be ready."
+
+His men murmured, but they knew that when Rogers had made up his mind
+upon a thing, there was no use in endeavoring to dissuade him. So they
+collected what plunder was to be had and awaited his further orders.
+
+Two days later all was ready for the advance. It was near
+midnight--upon April 22nd,--when the command was passed around:
+
+"Muffle your oars and take the town!"
+
+With one hundred and ten men in the jolly boats, the privateers neared
+the sleepy, little seaport. Not a sound broke the silence, save the
+drip, drip of the sweeps, yet, as they approached the white-washed
+walls of the lower town,--a bonfire was touched off upon the shore.
+
+"'Tis well," whispered a stout sailor. "Now we can see to shoot!"
+
+As he said this, many lights appeared in the houses of Guayaquil. The
+townspeople were wide awake.
+
+"What means this, sirrah?" thundered Rogers at a native guide, who was
+piloting him to the shore.
+
+The fellow had a ready answer.
+
+"'Tis the celebration of All Saints Day," he answered smiling. "The
+people here are good Christians."
+
+"They know that we are coming," growled the English captain, for, as
+the native spoke, a Spaniard upon the shore was heard to shout:
+
+"Puna has been captured! The enemy is advancing! Arm! Arm!"
+
+Bells clanged from the steeples of the little churches. Muskets and
+guns went off. Black masses could be seen surging into the streets.
+Cannon roared, and a screeching shot spun ahead of the on-coming
+boats.
+
+"'Tis nothing," said Rogers. "The alarm has only just been given.
+Preparations are not complete and we can rush them, easily."
+
+But Captain Cook had his own opinion upon the affair.
+
+"The Buccaneers," said he, "never attack any large place after it is
+alarmed. My advice is to keep away."
+
+"Don't go in," cried several. "Wait and rush them when they are not so
+well prepared."
+
+Even the men seemed disinclined to advance.
+
+Thus cautious counsel prevailed: the boats dropped down-stream
+again--about three miles below the town--and were joined by two small
+barques. They were prizes which had been recently captured. Here the
+flotilla lay while the cries in the city grew inaudible,--for the
+inhabitants saw that the attack had been avoided.
+
+When flood-tide came, Captain Rogers once more ordered an advance upon
+the town.
+
+"No! No!" argued Dover. "They are too well prepared. Night will cloak
+our movements, so we should then go on. I, myself, advise the sending
+of a trumpeter with a flag of truce. He shall propose that we make
+some trades with the people of this place."
+
+"Your measure is half-hearted," said Rogers, with heat. "You are a
+craven knave. Let's rush the town like Englishmen and heroes!"
+
+Again cautious counsel prevailed. Two prisoners--a Lieutenant from
+Puna, and the Captain of the Frenchman of recent capture--were sent to
+parley with the Spaniards.
+
+"The English are afraid!" whispered the inhabitants. "Let us keep them
+off with braggadocio, and mayhap reinforcements will come to us."
+
+So they bickered and delayed.
+
+"These dogs would palaver forever," said Captain Rogers, when
+negotiations had proceeded for full two days without result. "I, for
+one, am for attacking the city right now!"
+
+"Yes! On! On!" cried his men.
+
+Even the cautious Dover was ready to advance; so, landing upon the
+beach, the one hundred and ten ran towards the town with a wild,
+exultant whoop!
+
+_Zip! Zip!_ came the bullets from the nearer houses, as the privateers
+advanced.
+
+_Boom! Boom!_ sounded the guns from the _Duchess_ and the _Duke_,
+which had edged up near the wharves and anchored. Shells shrieked and
+burst; guns roared; and, with a hoarse cheer, the English beat down
+two lines of Spaniards who opposed them.
+
+Back, back, they crushed the defenders of Guayaquil to the
+market-place in the centre of the town, where four cannon were drawn
+up behind a barricade which was flanked by cavalry.
+
+_Crash! Crash!_ they roared at the on-coming privateers, and many a
+man went down before the exploding grape and cannister. But the blood
+of the English was now up.
+
+"Take the guns!" shouted Woodes Rogers. "Scale the barricade and spike
+the pieces!"
+
+With a mighty roar the jack-tars ran for the engines of death; leaping
+over the wall of the defenses; bayonetting the gunners; turning the
+spitting war-engines upon the cavalry, which, in confusion and dismay,
+was driven down a crooked lane. It was the last stand. The English
+standard soon waved from the flag-pole of the House of Justice.
+
+"And now," cried Captain Rogers, gleefully, "I'll meet the worthy
+_Padres_ and treat with them for a ransom. We'll make them pay full
+well to get back the neat little town of Guayaquil."
+
+Crestfallen and abashed, the city fathers were soon brought before the
+privateer.
+
+"Senor," said they, "your men can fight like devils. Senor, you are
+the first man to have taken our town, and many a Buccaneer has
+endeavored to do so!"
+
+Captain Rogers smiled.
+
+"Tut! Tut!" said he. "The English can always battle. But--Fathers--you
+must pay me well for this affair. I demand thirty thousand pieces of
+eight ($35,000 or about L6,750) as ransom for your fair city. I will
+give you two days in which to collect it."
+
+The worthy _Padres_ hung their heads.
+
+"You English," said they, "are cruel extortioners."
+
+Yet--in two day's time--the British marched to their boats with colors
+flying, bugles blowing, and drums beating a rollicking tattoo. Captain
+Rogers brought up the rear with a few men. He had secured the ransom
+and fairly smiled with exuberant joy. "Our sailors," says he, "kept
+continually dropping their pistols, cutlasses, and pole-axes; which
+shows they had grown careless and very weak--weary of being
+soldiers--and it was high time that we should be gone from hence to
+the shores of Merrie England."
+
+Thus, on April 28th, when the _Duke_ and the _Duchess_ weighed anchor
+and stood out to sea: guns roared: trumpets blew: the men cheered.
+
+"And so," writes the gallant Rogers, "we took leave of the Spaniards
+very cheerfully, but not half so well pleased as we should have been
+if we had taken 'em by surprise; for I was well assured from all
+hands, that at least we should then have got about two hundred
+thousand pieces of eight in money (L45,000 or $225,000); and in
+jewels, diamonds, and wrought and unwrought gold and silver."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The owners of the two privateers: the _Duke_ and the _Duchess_, sat in
+solemn meeting at the good town of Bristol. It was the month of
+October, 1711.
+
+The fat Quakers were smiling, for Captain Rogers had brought them
+back equally fat moneys.
+
+The rugged merchants laughed, for the venture had been a howling
+success.
+
+"And you were wounded?" said a stockholder, turning to the bronzed
+sea-rover who stood before them, giving account and reckoning of his
+journey to the Spanish Main.
+
+"A scratch," replied the stout sea-dog, smiling. "When we tackled a
+Manila ship on the way home from Guayaquil, I got a ball through the
+jaw, and a splinter in the left foot. It laid me up for full three
+weeks, but, gentlemen, a cat and Woodes Rogers both have nine lives."
+
+And even the sober Quaker fathers laughed at this sally.
+
+"You have done well," they said. "We will reward you with money and a
+good berth. How would you care to be Governor of the Bahamas?"
+
+"Fine!" said Woodes Rogers, chuckling.
+
+And that is the way the old sea-barnacle spent his declining years,
+dying at the tropic isle on July 16th, 1732. Hail to this Prince of
+Privateers!
+
+
+
+
+TWILIGHT AT SEA
+
+
+    The twilight hours like birds flew by,
+    As lightly and as free;
+    Ten thousand stars were in the sky,
+    Ten thousand on the sea;
+    For every wave with dimpled face,
+    That leaped up in the air,
+    Had caught a star in its embrace,
+    And held it trembling there.
+
+
+
+
+FORTUNATUS WRIGHT
+
+THE MOST HATED PRIVATEERSMAN OF THE MEDITERRANEAN SEA
+
+(1715-1765)
+
+
+    "It was a high counsel which I once heard given to a
+    young person: 'Always do what you are afraid to
+    do.'"--EMERSON.
+
+
+FORTUNATUS WRIGHT
+
+THE MOST HATED PRIVATEERSMAN OF THE MEDITERRANEAN SEA
+
+(1715-1765)
+
+    "'_Be sure you're right, then go ahead!_' was coined by Andrew Jackson,
+    Who was a fighter, tough as nails, and loved to lay the whacks on,
+    He followed out this sage advice, in spite of opposition,
+    While everybody winked and said,--'_A Fellow with a Mission!_'
+    In other days, in other climes, there lived a seaman daring,
+    Who loved a fight, as well as he,--was just as good at swearing;
+    His name was Wright, and thus in spite of all his foemen said,
+    Old _Fortune_ Wright, was surely right, whene'er he went ahead!"
+
+                    --_Chants of the Eastern Clipper Ships._--1846.
+
+
+In the year 1744 war was declared between England and France. French
+privateers harried the coast of her rival, caught her merchantmen
+whenever they ventured away from stout men-o'-warsmen, and chased them
+in the blue, shimmering waters of the Mediterranean. It seemed as if
+there were never gun-boats enough to protect the British shipping, and
+thus many of the English merchants grew choleric and angry.
+
+Englishmen carried on quite a trade with Italy, Greece, and the
+countries of Asia Minor, and at Leghorn--upon the Italian coast--they
+had numerous trading shops and docks for their own vessels. They began
+to suffer, not only great annoyance, but also great loss, from the
+depredations of the French privateers which swarmed about the harbor
+mouth and scurried into every corner of the ragged coast-line. Their
+trade was hampered, their ships compelled to remain in port, or--if
+they ventured out--they were inevitably captured. The situation was
+unbearable.
+
+"My! My!" said one of the red-faced merchants. "My! My! We must have a
+remedy for this. My! My! We must have our own privateers!"
+
+"Well spoken," cried another. "And I know the very man to help us out.
+He is living here, now, and his name is Fortunatus Wright. Gentlemen!
+I tell you he is a true sea-dog! He is the fellow to cripple these
+saucy, French bushwhackers of the sea."
+
+"Hear! Hear!" cried others.
+
+And thus Mr. Fortunatus Wright was sought for, and was asked:
+
+"Will you take charge of a privateer for the British merchants of
+Leghorn? Will you chase these rascally Frenchmen? Will you cripple
+their operations? Will you chastise these sea-robbers?"
+
+To this Mr. Fortunatus Wright, being a true seaman with the love of
+the salt water tugging at his heart strings, is said to have remarked,
+
+"Whoop-ee!"
+
+Which being interpreted means:
+
+"Gentlemen, I'm dee-lighted!"
+
+As luck would have it, there was a vessel lying in the harbor which
+was directly available. She was a brigantine called the _Fame_, and,
+although we know little about her tonnage and the number of stout
+sea-dogs whom she could carry, it is apparent that Fortunatus Wright
+considered her most admirably suited for his venture. At any rate he
+soon boarded her, swore in a crew of stalwart seamen, and saw that
+plenty of gunpowder, cutlasses, boarding-pikes and muskets were
+aboard.
+
+It was September, 1746, and, before the close of the month of
+December, the _Fame_ had captured eighteen prizes, one of which was a
+hulking, French privateer with twenty guns and one hundred and fifty
+men, especially fitted out to put an end to the career of the vessel
+of Fortunatus Wright. They had met off the port of Messina and had had
+a roaring, little scrimmage, but--seeing that matters were going ill
+with him--the French captain had cried:
+
+"Run for the shore! Run our ship aground! We will fix her so that this
+English hound cannot make a prize of us!"
+
+"Voila! Voila!" his men had shouted. "Oui! We will f-e-e-x th-e-es
+Eengleesh chien! Oui! Au revoir, Monsieur Wright!"
+
+So saying, the privateer had been run upon the sandy beach, bows on,
+where her crew took to the brush, yelling derisively at the _Fame_ as
+she came up within hail,--sails snug down so as to move cautiously.
+
+The Frenchmen had counted without their host.
+
+"We'll float her, my hearties!" cried Wright. "All hands ashore in
+the small boats. Tie hawsers to her stern and pull her off!"
+
+This they did, while the French captain, far back in the brush, saw it
+and fairly boiled with disappointment and rage.
+
+"Zees Wright," he blustered. "One cannot outweet heem."
+
+So the privateer was towed into the harbor of Leghorn, where all the
+English merchants cried:
+
+"Good! Good! Now we have a true man to fight our battles! Huzzah for
+Fortunatus Wright!"
+
+The French were furious, while at the island of Malta (where were
+numerous French, Spanish, Austrian and English traders) the feeling
+grew intense. Here the Austrians sided with the English and several
+duels were fought by angry officers, as crafty Fortunatus Wright
+continued to send in his prizes.
+
+Finally the French merchants forwarded a missive to Marseilles, in
+France, which ran:
+
+"Can the French be further humiliated by this corsair--this
+robber--Fortunatus Wright? Let our people fit out a privateer
+sufficiently large to cope with him, and let her defeat and cripple
+this fellow. Make haste, for he is doing much damage!"
+
+An answer came back.
+
+"Before a month is gone, Monsieur Wright will no more harass your
+privateers. What we have determined to do, we shall do!"
+
+Word of this was brought to Captain Fortunatus Wright and he only
+smiled broadly. "There'll be another ship to bring into Malta, care
+of F. Wright, Esq.," said he. "And it will be labelled Collect on
+Delivery."
+
+Not three weeks later the French vessel came jauntily into the harbor
+of Malta. The captain was a man of considerable repute as a seaman and
+fighter, and he was warmly received by the French. They invited him to
+many dinners.
+
+"Voila!" said they. "Here is the fellow to do the tr-e-e-k. Tenez!
+There will soon be one b-e-eg mince pie we-eth Captain Wright eenside.
+Ha! Ha!"
+
+It is never well to count your chickens before they hatch or to pat a
+man upon the back before he has won a victory.
+
+Eagerly the French captain cruised outside, continually upon the watch
+for slippery Skipper Wright. His vessel was superior to the _Fame_ in
+numbers of both guns and men. He was sure of victory. "If only the
+hated Englishman would appear!" he grumbled.
+
+Meanwhile the excitement and expectation at Malta became intense.
+Finally it was noised abroad that the terrible privateer had been
+sighted about five miles off the harbor. All factions were aroused:
+the Austrians and English slapping the French and Spaniards upon the
+back, and saying, "Now there will be a chance to sink bold Captain
+Wright, Messieurs!"
+
+To which the irritable Frenchmen would answer, "Ah! Yes! He will be
+gobbled up like Jonah by the whale. Pouff!"
+
+The French privateer sailed out to meet the foe, and soon her white
+canvas had disappeared from view around a jutting headland. The
+stranger ran off. The Frenchman pursued, and soon both were lost to
+the eager gaze of the population of Malta, which crowded every
+headland, eager and expectant for the bloody battle. The shore was
+black with people.
+
+Hours passed. Another day came and with it the news that two vessels
+had been sighted off the entrance to the harbor. Hundreds rushed to
+the headlands and cliffs in order to see the victor and the
+vanquished, for two cruisers were approaching, the one towing the
+other.
+
+"Huzzah!" shouted an enthusiastic Frenchman. "We have won! See--up go
+the French colors upon the first vessel. The other--poof--eet ees a
+jelly. Eet ees pounded to ze shreds."
+
+"Huzzah!" shouted all of his compatriots, and they danced about,
+shaking hands, embracing, and waving their hats and their
+handkerchiefs.
+
+"Ce cher Wright!" cried they. "He ees een the soup, eh?"
+
+And what of the Englishmen?
+
+They--of course--said nothing, but bit their lips, looked at their
+Austrian friends, and hung their heads dejectedly.
+
+Here is the most beautiful part of all this story, for Fortunatus
+Wright, my boys, was a joker--a real, true end man in a minstrel
+show--and he was having his fun with "the Frenchies." His
+vessel--indeed--had come off victorious, in spite of the fact that she
+had been much more shattered than the other contestant. Therefore,
+Wright had put her in tow of the captured Frenchman, which he,
+himself, was steering, with the crew of his opponent down in the hold,
+as prisoners of war.
+
+Seeing the crowded headlands and swarming ramparts in the harbor, he
+could not resist the temptation of hoisting the flag of France. He
+chuckled as he saw the effect it produced upon the crowd, then--as the
+vessels rounded a fort at the entrance to the harbor--down came the
+colors of France and up went the English flag to the peak, with the
+French flag below.
+
+And then--well, you can imagine how the Englishmen and Austrians
+yelled, and how the poor Frenchmen beat a hasty flight for their
+homes. Fortunatus Wright had had a sweet revenge. He laughed long and
+hard, while the Frenchmen said, "Curse heem! He ees a devil! A
+thousand curses upon the head of thees Wright! Sapristi!" And they did
+not open any more bottles of wine for their supposedly great captain
+from Marseilles.
+
+As for Fortunatus Wright, he continued to harass the French and get
+into trouble, as the following anecdote well shows.
+
+Not long after his famous battle, he was travelling in Italy with
+introductions to many of the nobility, and arrived--one day--before
+the city gates of Lucca. Here was stationed a guard, and a sentinel
+scrutinized him with great care and deliberation.
+
+Fortunatus Wright grew impatient.
+
+"Can I not go by?" said he. "My passports are correct!"
+
+"No! No!" answered the soldier. "I no likea zose peestols in your
+belta. You must deeliver them to me before you can go to ze ceety."
+
+The English sea-captain said nothing, but the color rose in his
+cheeks. In an instant he raised one of his pistols and pointed it at
+the head of the astonished sentry.
+
+"The first man that endeavors to take my weapons from me," he yelled,
+"does so at the cost of his life!"
+
+The guardsman was flabbergasted.
+
+"Corporal of the Guard! Post Number Two!" he shouted, presenting his
+musket at the same instant, and pointing it at the head of the
+irascible Captain Wright.
+
+Immediately a dozen soldiers came running to the spot. They surrounded
+the irate English traveller. He was ordered to "Throw up your hands!"
+
+"You air one mad Englishmana!" said the Officer of the Guard. "Here.
+Comea weeth usa! We weel feexa youa!"
+
+Seeing that the odds were too much against him, Captain Wright allowed
+himself to be taken to the guard house, while a soldier was dispatched
+to the British Ambassador in order to explain that "they had captured
+an Englishman as mad as a mad dog!"
+
+Things looked bad for the great privateersman. But was his name not
+Fortunatus? And was not good fortune always with him?
+
+A nobleman to whom the bold mariner had a letter now intervened in his
+favor, and secured the release of the high-tempered man-of-the-sea. On
+the morning of the fourth day of his captivity, and at the early hour
+of four, a soldier waked Captain Fortunatus Wright, who was peacefully
+sleeping at a military prison. A missive was handed him, and he read:
+
+    "SEIGNEUR WRIGHT:--Since you have been so daring as to
+    attempt to enter the town of Lucca by force, it is
+    therefore ordered that you shall now leave the State and
+    never presume to enter it again, without leave from the
+    Republic. Post-horses, with a guard to see you over the
+    border, are now ready for you. We trust that you shall
+    have a safe journey.
+
+        "By order of the
+
+            "GOVERNOR OF LUCCA."
+
+"These Italians are the most unreasonable people alive," growled
+Captain Wright. But he pocketed both his pride and his pistols,
+entered the post-chaise at the door, and was soon rolling forth for
+other parts. In spite of this order--he continued to reside in Italy,
+with the true independence of a privateersman.
+
+In December, 1746, the bold seafarer made an exceptionally good
+capture: a French vessel on a voyage from Marseilles to Naples, with a
+rich cargo and the servants and luggage of a real potentate,--the
+Prince of Campo Florida.
+
+When valorous Wright stepped aboard of her, her captain was scraping
+and bowing near the rail.
+
+"Ah, Seigneur!" said he, "you have taken me, that is true. But you
+cannot touch my cargo or my men. See,--here is a pass from King George
+the Second of England. It says, 'All of the cargo, passengers, and
+crew of _La Belle Florence_ shall be exempt from molestation by
+English cruisers and privateers.' What say you to that?"
+
+Captain Wright looked sad, but he seized the paper and read it with
+care. His smile broadened as he perused the document.
+
+"How am I to know that this particular ship is to go free?" said he.
+"For although you told me that the name of your vessel (_La Belle
+Florence_) was mentioned in this document, I do not find that it is
+mentioned. The paper merely states that 'the vessel' shall not be
+molested, and, my boy, you may have stolen this from some other
+skipper. Ah! Ha! You are my prize and shall go with me into Leghorn."
+
+You should have seen the face of the Frenchman!
+
+"I vill haf revenge!" said he. And he had it.
+
+For, when the matter was referred to the British Minister, he turned
+it over to the Admiral who commanded the English ships at this
+station, and this high official made Captain Wright give up both
+vessel and cargo. He did so with the same unwillingness that he had
+shown when asked to leave the quaint, little town of Lucca. Captain
+Wright, you see, had that bull-dog stubbornness which is
+characteristic of men of the British Isles. He believed in hanging on
+to everything which he took.
+
+A bit later, this trait got him into serious difficulties and into
+prison.
+
+A number of English merchants were trading with the people of Turkey
+under the name of "The Company of English Merchants trading to the
+Levant Sea," and, finding it impossible to ship all of their goods in
+British vessels, they often sent them in the holds of French ships.
+True it was that France was at war with England at this time, but, as
+these were English cargoes, the British naturally thought that they
+should be allowed to come through, unmolested, even though the French
+vessels might be captured by English privateers. But they had not
+reckoned with Fortunatus Wright.
+
+Two French clipper ships were scudding quietly along off the Italian
+coast, one bright day in June of 1747, when a rakish vessel appeared
+upon the horizon and speedily bore down upon them. They crowded on
+sail, but they could not outdistance their pursuer, who was soon near
+enough to fire a gun across the bow of the foremost, and flaunt the
+English colors in her face.
+
+"Helas!" growled the French skipper. "Eet ees that devil, ze Captain
+Wright. Eet is all up with me! Helas!"
+
+So he came to and surrendered; but the other fellow pounded away at
+the British privateer with a couple of swivel guns and put up a smart,
+little skirmish before a well-directed shot from the deck of the
+Englishman, knocked a topmast crashing over the port side. Crippled,
+she surrendered.
+
+It did not take Captain Wright long to sail into Leghorn harbor with
+his prizes. The holds were filled with bales of rich goods, marked:
+"The property of the Company of English Merchants trading to the
+Levant Sea."
+
+"I'll sell the bloomin' cargoes," cried Wright. "For the vessels were
+under the French flag and we're at war with that nation. Besides this,
+one of them put up a fight against me."
+
+Thus--the cargoes were sold--Captain Fortunatus pocketed the money,
+and went upon his way, rejoicing.
+
+But he did not rejoice very long, for the British merchants were
+furious with anger, and procured--through some means or other--an
+order from the English Government to the effect that English cargoes
+in French vessels were not to be touched--when captured by British
+privateers. Word was sent to Captain Wright to refund the money which
+he had secured by the sale of the cargoes captured in the French
+ships, and the property of "The Company of English Merchants trading
+to the Levant Sea."
+
+To this Captain Wright answered, "Bah! I have the money. I intend to
+keep it!"
+
+Orders were sent from England to have this fellow arrested and shipped
+home; so the Italian police obligingly captured the old sea-dog,
+locked him up, and kept him in jail for six months, while the
+attorneys fought over the legality of the affair.
+
+At length the bluff privateersman was allowed to go free, and--he
+never paid back the money. "These fellows attacked me at law," he
+wrote, "but I have not acted contrary to it. I am an Englishman. I am
+acting under a commission from the King of England, and, when we are
+at war with France, I intend to hold and keep all the cargoes which I
+capture in French vessels. As for this 'English Company trading to the
+Levant Sea!' let them learn a lesson and pack their goods in future in
+English vessels. English oak should be good enough for English
+cargoes."
+
+The "English Company trading to the Levant Sea" had certainly learned
+that Fortunatus Wright was as stubborn as a mule, and--in the
+future--they employed no French vessels to carry their bales of
+commerce. _A wise dog only allows himself to be bitten once._
+
+France and England now came to a peaceable settlement of their
+difficulties, but in 1755 war broke out afresh. Fortunatus Wright
+chuckled, for he itched for another brush upon the wide sweep of the
+ocean, and a chance to take a prize or two. So the _Fame_ not being
+available, he had a small vessel constructed at Leghorn, and called
+her the _Saint George_. She was a fast sailer and was as graceful as a
+sea-gull. "In this fair ship," said he, as he gazed upon her
+admiringly, "I shall take many a prize and shall have, I trust, many a
+sharp adventure. _Saint George_, I salute you! May you bring me only
+the best of luck!"
+
+Trouble was in store for the well-hated mariner even before he turned
+his vessel's prow into the Mediterranean, for--in spite of the fact
+that the Italians were neutral--their sympathies were strongly with
+France, and they looked with decided disfavor upon the graceful hull
+of the _Saint George_, as she bobbed serenely upon the surface of the
+bay. Knowing full well the reputation of this famous seaman, they
+paid particular attention to his little craft, and sent a number of
+officials to inspect her. In a few days the intrepid Fortunatus
+received the information that, as his was a merchant vessel, he must
+carry a crew of only five-and-twenty men, and an armament of four
+small guns.
+
+At this the old sea-dog only laughed, and exhibited the greatest
+anxiety to comply with the requirements of the law.
+
+"I would suggest," said he to one of the officials of the town, "that
+you keep guard-boats rowing around my ship in order to be sure that I
+do not take on more guns and men than the law permits, before I set
+sail."
+
+The officer smiled. "We are watching you closely," said he. "For
+Monsieur Wright, it is said that you are as crafty as a cat!"
+
+The mariner grinned, and, before going to sea, obtained from the
+Governor, a certificate to the effect that he had complied with all
+the requirements of the law.
+
+Armed with this, on July 28th, 1756, he put to sea, in company with
+four merchant vessels laden with valuable cargoes, and bound for the
+shores of England. Carefully the _Saint George_ had been watched, so
+carefully, in fact, that the authorities had overlooked the lading of
+the other vessels, aboard which numerous guns, howitzers, and
+hand-spikes had been smuggled, besides a number of seamen who were
+well-experienced in fighting upon the ocean. It is true that
+Fortunatus Wright was as crafty as a cat, or--as they say in
+Maine--"You'd have to git up early if yer wanted ter lick him."
+
+Not only had the officials at Leghorn watched every move of this
+well-known privateersman, but they had sent word to the French that
+Wright had only a feeble force, that he was accompanying several rich
+prizes, and that he could be easily beaten and captured by a vessel of
+any size. So much hated was he, that it is said the French king had
+promised Knighthood and a handsome life pension to the sailor who
+could bring Wright to the shores of France _dead or alive_. The
+merchants of Marseilles were particularly bitter against him, for he
+had captured many of their ships, and in the market-place (where all
+could see it) had been posted a placard, which ran:
+
+    "ALL SAILORS AND SEAMEN ATTENTION!
+
+    To the person, or persons, who will capture and bring to
+    France, the body of the arch-villain Captain Fortunatus
+    Wright, shall be given
+
+        A SUM DOUBLE THE VALUE OF WRIGHT'S VESSEL.
+
+    Frenchmen! Catch this Thief! Bring him in Dead or Alive!
+    Do your Duty!
+
+    This sum is guaranteed by the Merchants and Ship-owners
+    of Marseilles, and the Chamber of Commerce."
+
+Wright had heard of this, and it sent a grim look into his eyes. He
+also heard that a vessel was cruising outside the harbor in wait for
+him, and thus he was not surprised, as he saw a large boat upon his
+port bow, when only a few hours' sail from the snug harbor of Leghorn.
+
+This vessel--a zebeque--had been waiting for the well-hated
+privateersman for several days, as her captain had been warned by the
+Italians that Wright was about to set sail. She had three masts, each
+carrying a huge, three-cornered sail, sixteen guns of considerable
+size, and several swivels. Her crew numbered two hundred and eighty
+men, well armed and eager for a brush with the famous Fortunatus,
+whose proverbial good fortune seemed now to have deserted him.
+
+Rounding to, Wright signalled to his merchantmen to draw near and
+hurriedly transported some of the cannon, which he had smuggled, to
+his own vessel. He also added to his small crew, so that--when the
+zebeque came pounding down within shooting distance--he had increased
+his sailors from twenty-five to seventy-five, and his guns, from four
+to twelve.
+
+"Now let the Frenchie come on!" he cried. "I'm half prepared, but I'll
+give her a warmer welcome than she ever had in all her career!"
+
+"Huzzah! Huzzah!" shouted his men, who were a motley collection of all
+nationalities: Italians, English, Portuguese, Dutch, Germans, and a
+few Arabs. "Huzzah! Huzzah! Wright forever!" The Arabs, of course,
+didn't say this, but they tried to.
+
+The French were very confident, and, as they came within range of the
+guns of the little _Saint George_ they began to sing a hymn of
+victory, while their captain already saw, in his hands, the rich
+reward offered by the good citizens of Marseilles.
+
+"Poof!" he chuckled. "Monsieur Wright, he soon take dinnaire in my
+cabin. Poof!"
+
+But Monsieur Wright was a different fellow than he imagined, and his
+men--although of all nationalities--were so animated by his stirring
+and martial spirit, that they fought better than they had ever fought
+in their lives before. You all know how necessary to success "Spirit"
+is in a foot-ball team, or a base-ball nine. The team which has the
+do-or-dare spirit, the never-give-up-until-the-last-gun-is-fired
+determination, is usually the team that wins. And the spirit of the
+captain is the controlling factor in any contest. If he be no
+desperate fighter, his followers will not be desperate fighters. If he
+is weak-kneed in a crisis, his followers will be weak-kneed.
+
+So this motley crew, under Fortunatus Wright, cheered onward by the
+dauntless navigator, fought as they had never fought before. Arab and
+German strove as well as Englishman and Italian to battle strenuously
+beneath the eye of the famous privateersman. They had never been
+together before, but, animated by the presence of this fearless
+"cock-of-the-Mediterranean," they now sailed into the Frenchman as if
+the zebeque were a vessel of equal strength and armament. Cheer after
+cheer welled into the air as the two antagonists drew near each other,
+while the puff of white smoke from the sides of the French vessel was
+followed by the _chug! chug!_ of solid shot, as it cut up the waves
+near the body of the staunch, little _Saint George_.
+
+"It's three to one against us, Boys!" shouted the battle-scarred
+Captain Wright. "Fire for the enemy's rigging and bring down one of
+her masts, if you can. If you fight hard we can lick her!"
+
+The screech of a shell cut his words short, for a piece of iron passed
+dangerously near his lips, striking a stout Italian in the neck, and
+rendering him useless for further conflict.
+
+Around and around in a wide circle floated the two sea-warriors, for
+the wind was light and just drove them along at the rate of a snail's
+pace. The rag-tag-and-bob-tail crew on the _Saint George_ stood to
+their guns like veterans and poured in such a hot fire that the French
+captain speedily realized that his only chance for victory was to
+board and overwhelm the English by superior numbers.
+
+"Bring the vessel up on her starboard side!" he commanded. "And get
+out the boarding-pikes! Now we'll finish Captain Wright!"
+
+The zebeque soon ranged alongside the battered _Saint George_, threw
+her grappling hooks into the rigging, and her men were in a
+hand-to-hand struggle with the motley crew who battled for the veteran
+Fortunatus. _Slash! Slash! Crack!_ The cutlasses cut and parried, the
+pistols spat, and the boarding-pikes thrust and struck. Cheering
+wildly the Frenchmen attempted to climb upon the deck of the
+privateer, but the followers of old Wright fought like demons. They
+parried and thrust like fiends; and such was the ferocity of their
+struggle that the boarders were repulsed with great slaughter.
+
+[Illustration: "THE BOARDERS WERE REPULSED WITH GREAT SLAUGHTER."]
+
+"Thees Wright ees a very hornet for a fight!" sighed the French
+captain, as he ordered the grappling hooks cast off, and floated his
+vessel away.
+
+_Poom! Poom!_
+
+There was still some fight left in the little _Saint George_ and her
+dauntless crew kept pounding iron at the sullen zebeque, which,
+shattered and torn, filled away and made for the open sea. Her captain
+had been struck by a piece of shell just as the battle closed; two
+lieutenants were killed, seventy men were wounded, and eighty-eight
+had been killed by the accurate shooting of the "Never-Say-Dies" under
+Captain Fortunatus Wright: the invincible. It had been a gallant
+battle, gallantly fought by both sides, and gallantly won.
+
+Bold navigator Wright followed his crippled adversary for several
+miles, then--seeing another French gun-boat threatening his convoy--he
+returned to the merchant-ships which had accompanied him; sent them
+back into Leghorn harbor; and followed, next day, with the proud, but
+battered _Saint George_. It had been a glorious victory.
+
+No sooner had the war-scarred Captain Wright let go his anchor chains
+in the harbor of Leghorn than he realized that he had only just begun
+to fight.
+
+"Sapristi!" said an Italian official. "This pirate has deceived us!
+This fellow was allowed but four guns upon his ship and he had twelve.
+To the jail with this dog! To the prison with this cut-throat!
+Sapristi!"
+
+A boat soon rowed to the _Saint George_ and an order was delivered to
+Captain Wright to the effect that he must bring his vessel into the
+inner harbor, and, if he did not obey, she would be brought in by
+Italian gun-boats. Wright--of course--refused. So two big Italian
+warships sailed up upon either side of the _Saint George_, ran out
+their guns, and cast anchor.
+
+"I will not move for the entire Italian Government!" roared Captain
+Fortunatus. "I will appeal to the British consul for protection, as
+England is at war with France, not with Italy."
+
+Now was a pretty how-de-do. The Italians were furious with the
+stubborn privateersman for refusing to obey their orders, but, in
+truth, the way that he had deceived them in smuggling the extra cannon
+aboard--when under their own eyes--is what had roused their quick,
+Tuscan tempers. They thought that they had been sharp--well--here was
+a man who was even sharper than they, themselves. "Sapristi!" they
+cried. "To the jail weeth heem!"
+
+There was a terrific war of words between the British consul and the
+officials of that snug, little town. Then, the problem was suddenly
+solved, for, two powerful, English men-of-war dropped into the harbor:
+the _Jersey_ of sixty guns, and the _Isis_ mounting fifty. The
+authorities of Leghorn were told that they had orders from the Admiral
+of the British, Mediterranean fleet, to convoy any English
+merchantmen which might be there, and _to release the Saint George
+immediately_. Wright threw up his cap and cheered, but the officials
+of Leghorn said things which cannot be printed. Thus the _Saint
+George_ sailed upon her way, unmolested, and was soon taking more
+prizes upon the broad waters of the Mediterranean.
+
+The path of the privateer is not strewn with roses. Captain Fortunatus
+found that his reputation had gone abroad and it had not been to his
+credit, for, when he put in at Malta he was not allowed to buy
+provisions for his ship.
+
+"You are a beastly pirate!" said an official. "You cannot purchase
+anything here for your nefarious business."
+
+"I am a privateer!" answered Wright, with anger.
+
+"A privateer looks just the same to me as a pirate," sarcastically
+sneered the official. And Captain Fortunatus had to look elsewhere for
+provisions.
+
+As he cruised along, a big, French cruiser of thirty-eight guns chased
+the little _Saint George_ as if to gobble her up alive.
+
+"Boys! We shall now have some fun!" said Captain Wright. "I can sail
+faster than this Frenchy. Just watch me!"
+
+So, when the great beast of a French vessel came lumbering by, Wright
+played with her like a cat with a mouse; sailed around her in circles;
+shot guns at her rigging--just to aggravate the men from the sunny
+land--and then dipped his ensign and went careening away as if nothing
+had happened. No wonder that the French hated and despised this
+valiant mariner! Wouldn't you have done so if you had been a
+Frenchman?
+
+Thus Captain Fortunatus Wright continued upon his privateering, his
+fighting, and his cruising; bearing terror to his enemies but
+satisfaction to his friends. His name was as well known among those
+who sailed the Mediterranean as was that of the great Napoleon in
+later years, and it was just as cordially hated by those who opposed
+him. "The Ogre from Leghorn" was one of his titles, while some applied
+to him the choice epithet of "The Red Demon from Italy." At any rate
+this did not seem to worry the veteran sea-dog, who continued to take
+prizes and make money until the year 1757. Then he disappears from
+history, for the body of brave, resolute, stubborn, and valiant
+Captain Fortunatus Wright mysteriously and suddenly vanished from this
+earth.
+
+What was his end?
+
+Perhaps he perished while boarding the deck of some craft which was
+manned by men as gallant as his own. Perhaps he fell while stemming
+the advance of a crew of wild Frenchmen, eager for his blood and
+remembering the many victories which he had won over their countrymen.
+Perhaps, in the wild, wind-tossed wastes of the Mediterranean, his
+vessel--unable to cope with the elements--was hurled upon some jagged
+rock and sunk in the sobbing waters of the frothing sea. Perhaps he
+was captured, hurried to some dark prison, and died in one of those
+many dungeons which disgrace the cities of the Italian coast. Perhaps
+he was hanged for privateering.
+
+At any rate, nothing is known of the last days of this dauntless
+navigator save what can be gathered from an old grave in St. Peter's
+churchyard, in Liverpool.
+
+Here is the tombstone of the father of Fortunatus Wright, an
+inscription upon which, tells us that he was a master-mariner of
+Liverpool; that he defended his ship--on one occasion--most gallantly
+against two vessels of superior force; and that he died, not by the
+stroke of a boarding-pike, but safely in his own home. To this is
+added the information that:
+
+"Fortunatus Wright, his son, was always victorious, and humane to the
+vanquished. He was a constant terror to the enemies of his king and
+his country." That is all.
+
+
+
+
+THE DEEP
+
+
+    There's beauty in the deep:
+    The wave is bluer than the sky;
+    And though the lights shine bright on high,
+    More softly do the sea-gems glow
+    That sparkle in the depths below;
+    The rainbow tints are only made
+    When on the waters they are laid.
+    And sea and moon most sweetly shine
+    Upon the ocean's level brine.
+        There's beauty in the deep.
+
+    There's quiet in the deep.
+    Above, let tide and tempest rave,
+    And earth-born whirlwinds wake the wave;
+    Above, let care and fear contend
+    With sin and sorrow to the end:
+    Here, far beneath the tainted foam
+    That frets above our peaceful home,
+    We dream in joy, and walk in love,
+    Nor know the rage that yells above.
+        There's quiet in the deep.
+
+
+
+
+GEORGE WALKER
+
+WINNER OF THE GAMEST SEA FIGHT OF THE ENGLISH CHANNEL
+
+(1727-1777)
+
+
+    "'War is Hell,' said General William T. Sherman.
+    But,--better have war than bow to an inferior
+    nation."--_Doctrines of the Strenuous Life._
+
+
+GEORGE WALKER
+
+WINNER OF THE GAMEST SEA FIGHT OF THE ENGLISH CHANNEL
+
+(1727-1777)
+
+    "If Britain can but breed th' men,
+    Who are like Walker made,
+    She'll have no fear of danger,
+    When th' foe starts to invade.
+    When th' foe starts to invade, my boys,
+    An' creep along th' shore,
+    Where th' curling breakers wash th' cliffs,
+    Where th' breeching combers roar.
+    Then, lift a glass to Walker,
+    Of _Glorioso_ fame,
+    _May we ne'er forget his deed lads,_
+    _May we ne'er forget his name_."
+
+                    --_Chants from The Channel._--1769.
+
+
+It was the year 1739, and the good people of Charleston, South
+Carolina, were in a great state of agitation. Little knots of
+merchants, sailors, clerks, and dock-hands clustered about each other
+in the narrow streets. And, above the hub-bub of many voices, could be
+heard the solemn sentence, oft repeated:
+
+"The pirate is off the narrows! The pirate will soon be here!"
+
+Then all would gaze seaward with startled faces, and would murmur:
+
+"The pirate--the Spanish pirate will be here."
+
+As they thus stood irresolutely, a strongly-knit fellow came walking
+towards the dock-end. He was clad in gray; his face was deeply seamed
+by long exposure to the elements; and high top-boots of leather
+encased his lower limbs.
+
+"What ho! Good citizens," said he. "Do I understand that a Spaniard
+has frightened you all? Why, where's your courage?"
+
+"Courage?" answered a rotund-bodied merchant. "Of that we have a
+plenty. But we have no ship with which to combat this fellow--or
+fellows--for some of my skippers tell me that there are two of them
+off the coast, and that they've captured twenty trading vessels."
+
+The newcomer smiled.
+
+"I've got a staunch craft here," said he. "My name is Walker, and I
+hail from Bristol, England. My ship--the _Duke William_--mounts but
+twenty guns, and my crew is but of thirty-two, yet, I know that many
+of you gentlemen will volunteer your services, particularly if there
+is to be a nice little battle."
+
+"Hear! Hear!" came from all sides. "You're the boy for us! You're the
+chap we've been looking for! Hear! Hear!"
+
+It did not take long to increase the crew of the _Duke William_.
+Several of the wealthy colonists volunteered their services; many
+sailors were there who had been fighting on the Spanish Main. They
+were eager and anxious to join. So, before three days were out, the
+_Duke William_ spread her canvas for the open sea, carrying one
+hundred men and an additional twenty guns. Now--you see--she could put
+up an excellent fight with the average pirate-ship which cruised about
+the low-lying and sandy coast.
+
+Out into the broad expanse of the Atlantic glided the little barque
+and eagerly the mariners scanned the horizon for some signs of the
+pirate.
+
+"She's been hereabouts!" cried one stout seaman. "For several of my
+mess-mates saw her sails down near the channel islands. And her flag
+was surely black with th' skull an' cross-bones."
+
+"Must have heard that we were coming, then," growled Captain Walker,
+"for there's nothing in view."
+
+In an hour's time he thought differently, for, "Sail ho!" sounded from
+the forward deck, and there, far off to leeward, was the outline of a
+long, blackish vessel, bearing no flag at her mizzen or stern.
+
+Crowding on all canvas--for the breeze was light--the _Duke William_
+bore away towards her. "It must be the pirate!" said all, for, also
+crowding on all sail, the vessel headed up the coast, and did her
+utmost to get away.
+
+On, on, went pursuer and pursued; on, on, and the _Duke William_ began
+to draw dangerously close to the fleeing vessel, which now could be
+easily seen. She was a brigantine, carrying about eighteen guns, with
+a high stern and graceful lines. No flags waved from her mast-heads.
+
+Suddenly the scudding sea-warrior pointed her nose in-shore, ran
+around the corner of a sandy island, and bore away into a seemingly
+large lagoon upon the other side. The _Duke William_ followed, and, as
+she rounded a jutting sand-spit, there before her lay a little
+schooner, on the deck of which were seen several sailors, waving and
+gesticulating frantically. Behind, and on the shore, was an
+earth-work, from which several cannon pointed their black muzzles. On
+a flag-pole in the centre, waved a Spanish flag, and, beneath it, a
+black ensign upon which was the skull-and-cross-bones.
+
+"It's the pirate stronghold!" cried several, at once. "We're in for a
+tight skirmish!"
+
+But Captain Walker only smiled.
+
+The brigantine, which he had been following, now rounded-to, opened
+her port-holes, and fired a couple of shots toward the pursuing craft.
+At the same time an English flag was hoisted on the schooner, and a
+fellow on her deck sang out through a speaking trumpet.
+
+"Thank Heaven you have come! We were only captured two days ago!
+Hurrah for the English flag!"
+
+The _Duke William_ kept on after the brigantine, her mixed crew
+yelling with joy, now that they were to have an action.
+
+_Bang! Bang!_
+
+Her two forward guns spoke, and a shot went ripping through one of the
+foresails of the pirate.
+
+This was enough for the fighting spirit of those who sailed the
+Spanish Main. For, putting about, the brigantine scudded through a
+narrow channel, known only to her skipper (for no one else could have
+followed without grounding upon a sand-spit), and was soon running
+away upon the opposite side of a low-lying island, now flaunting the
+pirate-flag from her halyards.
+
+"She's gone!" sadly remarked the gallant Captain Walker, "but we can
+capture the gun-battery. Make ready to go ashore, if needed!"
+
+Steering for the coast, the guns of the _Duke William_ opened upon the
+sandy barricade, and shot after shot was soon making the dirt and
+gravel fly in every direction:
+
+_Poom! Poom! Cu-poom!_
+
+The cannon in the earth-work next began to speak, and, it was
+apparent, from the strange noises which some of them made, that they
+were full of rust.
+
+_Cu-Poom! Cu-Pow! Chuck-chuck-cu-swash!_ they roared, and a few balls
+began to whistle about the spars of the _Duke William_.
+
+There were some accurate marksmen upon the deck of the British vessel,
+and, as she lay broadside to the fortification, one well-aimed shot
+struck a cannon and dismounted it; while another shattered the
+flag-pole and brought down the flag with a crash.
+
+"Hurrah!" shouted the men from Charleston. "Now we'll even up with
+these cursed pirates for all the damage that they've done us. Now,
+we'll teach them not to ravage our coasts and catch our merchant
+ships!"
+
+_Cu-whow!_ barked the rust-caked guns of the barricade. "_Go-slow!
+Go-back! Go-home!_"
+
+To this a full broadside roared, and the balls tore the top of the
+earth-work to shreds.
+
+"Now let thirty men take to the boats!" commanded Captain Walker.
+"Steer for the beach and rush the barricade with pistols and
+cutlasses. I don't believe that there are more than a dozen men inside
+the earth-work."
+
+"Huzzah!" was the cheerful answer to this order, and, in a few
+moments, several boats were racing for the beach, each eager to be the
+first ashore.
+
+As they approached, the antiquated guns on the sand-spit became
+strangely silent, and, as the eager raiders rushed valiantly upon the
+pirate fortress, no shots were fired at them to impede their progress.
+With a wild yell they leaped over the side of the barricade, only to
+find it deserted; for whatever had been the force that had fired these
+cannon, it had taken to the brush as the English seamen drew near.
+Only a few charges of ammunition were there, so it was plainly evident
+that the pirates (whatever their strength might have been) could only
+have held out for a few more rounds.
+
+"Hurrah! Hurrah!" shouted the raiders. "The fort is ours!"
+
+"And it's a sorry victory," said one of the crew, "for there's nothing
+here worth the having, except the cannon, and they couldn't stand more
+than two more shots without blowing up. I call it a pretty hollow
+success."
+
+In spite of this the men of Charleston were well pleased. They had
+dispersed the pirates; taken their fort; and had re-captured a
+schooner which had recently been taken only a few miles from the
+harbor-mouth of that fair, southern city.
+
+When they sailed into their home port they received a tremendous
+ovation. The bells were rung in all the churches; shots were fired;
+trumpets were blown.
+
+"We could fall in with nothing that would stay for us upon the seas,"
+said Captain Walker, modestly; but, in spite of this, he was treated
+like a great hero. All the influential persons in the Colony offered
+to sign a request that he might be given the command of a king's ship;
+but this he declined. So they tendered him an immense tract of land if
+he would remain in that country and drive off the pirates when next
+they became too bold and daring; but this he also declined, and stuck
+to his ship. In a few weeks he sailed for the Barbadoes, and then to
+England, in company with three unarmed trading-vessels which placed
+themselves under his convoy. The good people of Charleston bade him a
+sad and affectionate farewell.
+
+George Walker sailed forth smiling, but he was now to have far more
+trouble than his little affair with the pirates.
+
+When half way to England, a terrific gale struck the _Duke William_
+and her convoys, which separated them by many miles, and made this
+good vessel (which had dispersed the pirates) leak like a sieve. The
+gale continued in its violence, while Captain Walker was so ill that
+the ship's surgeon despaired of his life. But note how grit and nerve
+pulled him through!
+
+On the second day of the tempest, a sailor rushed into his cabin,
+crying:
+
+"Captain! Captain! We'll founder, for the water is pouring into our
+bottom by the hogshead. We're gone for unless we take to the boats!"
+
+Captain Walker was not the man to leave his ship in such a crisis.
+
+"Throw all of the guns overboard, but two!" he ordered. "We need those
+in order to signal for help if a vessel comes near us. That will
+lighten us so that we can still float awhile."
+
+This was done, but, as the last cannon shot into the waves, a sailor
+burst into his cabin with the intelligence that the men had prepared
+to desert in the tenders.
+
+"Carry me on deck!" roared the resolute captain. "I'll give these
+cowards a piece of my mind."
+
+Three sailors seized him and bore him aloft, where he remonstrated
+with his men in the strongest language possible. In spite of this,
+many clustered about one of the boats.
+
+"The ship's a-sinking," cried one. "She won't stand up for an hour."
+
+As he spoke, the welcome sound of, "Sail ho!" arose, above the wash
+and roar of the angry water.
+
+Sure enough, a ship was bearing down upon them, but, to the dismay of
+all, she hastily hauled off again.
+
+Captain Walker was astonished. "She thinks us an armed enemy," said
+he. "Fire a gun, men, and cut the mizzen-mast in two, so that it falls
+overboard. That will show the stranger that we're a friend in
+distress."
+
+His orders were immediately obeyed and the mast came ripping and
+tearing over the side. A gun also roared, and the stranger, now
+convinced that the ship was a friend, and not a foe, came bearing down
+upon the crippled _Duke William_, to the rescue.
+
+"She's one of our own convoy!" shouted a seaman, waving his hand
+joyfully. And such she proved to be. Captain Walker had saved his crew
+by his foresight and quickness of decision. Had he thrown all of his
+cannon overboard he would have had no gun with which to hail the
+stranger, and, had he not cut away his own mast, she would have gone
+away, fearful that he was an enemy. Three cheers for the brave and
+thoughtful Captain Walker! He reached England, at last, but he and his
+men were in a sorry plight, for the vessel which had rescued them was
+almost as unseaworthy as their own, which sank in a great whirl of
+eddying foam, not half an hour after they had left her. Thus ended the
+career of the good ship which had chased all of the pirates away from
+the harbor of Charleston. A sad fate, indeed, for such a gallant
+craft.
+
+Captain Walker was not long idle, for he soon took charge of a
+brigantine trading to the Baltic Sea, in spite of the fact that war
+had been declared with France, and the privateers and gun-boats of
+that nation hovered in his path, eager and anxious to secure some
+English merchant vessel, as a prize.
+
+"I see that these fellows mean to catch me, if they can," said the
+keen-witted mariner. "So I intend to be ready for them if I do not
+happen to be near an English man-of-warsman when they come sailing
+by."
+
+He therefore shipped a number of wooden guns, which were painted
+black, so that, at a distance, they looked exactly like the real
+thing. Upon his vessel were only six cannon, so when--a short time
+afterwards--he was chased by a French privateer off the coast of
+Scotland--he had an excellent opportunity to "bluff" the bold
+marauder.
+
+As the Frenchman drew near, the vessel which Captain Walker was on
+kept steadily upon her way, and, through his glass, the cautious
+mariner saw that his pursuer carried fully twenty guns.
+
+"Run out our dummy cannon!" he ordered.
+
+Out were thrust the black, wooden muzzles, twenty-five in number,
+and--as the Frenchman was now within shooting distance--the English
+boat was luffed into the wind. In a second the British jack, ensign,
+and man-of-war's pendant were hoisted, and a gun was fired across the
+bow of the arrogant privateer.
+
+"Come on!" shouted bold Walker. "I am waiting for you!"
+
+But the enemy did not come on. Instead of this, she turned tail in a
+hurry, filled away, and made off as fast as a freshening breeze would
+drive her.
+
+"Ha! Ha! Ha!" laughed the genial, English skipper. "Bluffed by a lot
+of wooden guns. Ha! Ha! Ha!"
+
+And all of his sailors gave a rousing cheer.
+
+This was indeed good fortune, but Captain Walker was soon to meet
+with some fortune which was quite the reverse.
+
+It was the year 1744 and the doughty sailor had accepted the command
+of the privateer _Mars_, of twenty-six guns and one hundred and thirty
+men, which sailed from London for a cruise in the English channel.
+With her was the _Boscawen_, another privateer with about the same
+number of guns, but with a crew of fully one hundred and eighty. They
+soon had an adventure which was not all to the liking of bold George
+Walker.
+
+At midnight, late in December, the two privateers were running near
+the coast of France. There was a heavy mist and rain, also a fresh
+breeze, so the steersmen could not well see what way they were going.
+Suddenly the hulls of two large vessels loomed up in the blackness,
+and the twinkling lights from their port-holes shone upon the dripping
+sides of the British privateers. Voices came through the mist--French
+voices--so it was apparent that the ships were not friends.
+
+"Those fellows are showing much alarm," said Captain Walker, a few
+moments later. "I therefore believe that the vessels are full of
+treasure. We'll hang on until daylight, at any rate, and see whether
+or no we cannot capture a rich cargo."
+
+Next morning, at eight o'clock, the fog suddenly lifted,
+disclosing--not two treasure ships--but two French men-of-war; one
+bearing seventy-four guns, the other sixty-four.
+
+"Egad!" ejaculated the startled Walker. "We're in a hornet's nest! I
+guess we'd better run for it!"
+
+The Frenchmen, however, were both treasure-ships, as well as
+men-of-war; both bound from the West Indies, with cargoes worth about
+four millions sterling ($20,000,000), which they were carrying into
+the harbor of Brest. They were not in good fighting trim, as their
+heavy cargoes made them low in the water, and very unwieldy. It is
+probable that they would not have attacked the two Englishmen, had not
+the captain of the _Boscawen_ turned tail and fled, leaving the _Mars_
+all alone.
+
+"Did you ever see such a coward?" cried Captain Walker, with heat.
+"Boys! We're in for it now!"
+
+Sure enough, they were: for the Frenchmen saw that only one enemy was
+left, and immediately sent the sixty-four gun ship--the _Fleuron_--in
+pursuit.
+
+Walker turned his vessel about and clapped on all sail, but the large
+gun-boat quickly overhauled him.
+
+"Gentlemen!" said Captain Walker, as she rapidly approached. "I do not
+mean to be so rash as to attempt a regular engagement with so superior
+a force; all I ask of you is to confide in me and my orders, to get
+away--if possible--without striking our flag; and, be assured, I shall
+not call upon you to fight unless there is excellent opportunity for
+success. The ship which pursues us is certainly the better sailer of
+the two French men-of-war; yet, if we have good fortune with our
+shots, we may bring down a topmast or yard; or hurt her rigging so as
+to retard her pursuit. We may yet get entirely clear. So, my
+hearties, do not lose your nerve!"
+
+These wise remarks were greeted with a "Hip! Hip! Hooray!"
+
+Now was a lively chase. The _Mars_ hoisted the English flag, opened
+with her stern guns, and put on all available canvas. But she was not
+a fast sailer, and gradually but surely, the _Fleuron_ crept up on one
+side, and the other French man-of-war upon the other. She, too, had
+entered the chase.
+
+Finally the French vessels had the British privateer directly between
+them.
+
+"The jig is up!" cried Captain Walker, sadly. "Gentlemen, we do not
+strike to one ship only. Haul down the colors!"
+
+Down came the proud ensign, the sails were lowered, and the gallant
+Walker entered a boat, in order that he might be put aboard the
+_Fleuron_ and give up his sword. When he arrived on the deck he found
+the French captain by no means in the politest of humors.
+
+After receiving the weapon of the vanquished privateersman, the
+Frenchman thundered in very good English:
+
+"How dare you fire against a force like mine in so small a ship?
+Sirrah, you must be stark mad. I compliment you upon your lack of
+judgment."
+
+Captain Walker was nettled.
+
+"Sir," he replied, with warmth, "if you will look at my commission you
+will find that I had as good a right to fight as you, yourself, had.
+Furthermore, if my force had not been so inferior to yours, I would
+have shown you more civil treatment on board my own ship, after I had
+captured you."
+
+The Frenchman winced.
+
+"How many of your bushwhackers have I killed?" said he.
+
+"None at all, sir!" replied the Englishman.
+
+"Then, sir, you should be well ashamed of your scurvy fighting. For
+you have killed six of my brave men and have wounded several with
+pieces of glass. Pray, when, sir, did the rules of war allow glass to
+be used as ammunition?"
+
+"You lie," cried Captain Walker. "No glass was used by my men."
+
+The Frenchman curbed his anger.
+
+"Then what was it?" said he.
+
+Here a British seaman interrupted.
+
+"If it would please your French Majesty," he said, with a bow, "I
+reckon I know what it was that you took for glass. The captain of one
+of our stern guns, when he found out that we must surrender, sir, took
+about sixteen shillings from his pocket, saying: 'Sooner than let
+these French rascals plunder me of all I've got in the world, I'll see
+what a bribe can do!' So he wrapped the money up in a bag, sir,
+crammed it into a gun, and let fly at your deck. Faith, your men were
+lucky to be struck by good, British coin!"
+
+At this all had a good laugh, and the unpleasantness between the
+French captain and George Walker was at an end. The privateersman was
+treated with the greatest courtesy and was made as comfortable as
+could be.
+
+The action took place on Friday and the ships were headed for Brest,
+about three days' sail away. At daybreak on Sunday morning, four large
+boats were sighted astern, and it did not take long to realize that
+they were coming up pretty fast _and were flying the English colors_.
+
+"Hurray!" shouted Captain Walker. "No French prison for me. Hurray!"
+
+The English squadron gained steadily. The boats grew nearer and
+nearer, while Walker's hopes soared higher and higher. Finally, the
+French officer, who was in charge of his own boat--the _Mars_--put his
+helm up and ran to leeward, hoping to draw one of the British vessels
+after him. He was successful, for a seventy-gun ship made after him,
+chased him for several miles, and finally re-captured the English
+privateer. The other ships kept on and drew closer and closer.
+
+Seeing that an action would soon take place, the French captain
+politely requested Walker and his officers to go below.
+
+"Messieurs!" said he. "There will soon be a leetle affair in which the
+balls will fly. You will be better off in the hold, where they cannot
+reach you so easily as up here."
+
+"Sir!" replied the English privateer-captain. "I go below with the
+greatest of pleasure, for I am now certain of my liberty. Au revoir!"
+
+"Do not count your chickens before they hatch!" cried the Frenchman,
+after his retreating form.
+
+The British vessels were the _Hampton Court_ of seventy guns, and the
+_Sunderland_ and _Dreadnought_ of sixty each; so, being three to two,
+they should have had a fairly easy victory over the Frenchmen. But the
+_Sunderland_ lost a spar overboard, and dropped astern; so it left but
+two to two: an even affair.
+
+Alas for gallant Captain Walker! Although the Englishmen came near the
+two French men-of-war, they hung about without firing a shot; allowed
+the Frenchmen to sail on unmolested, and thus carry their
+astonishingly rich treasure into Brest, amid wild and enthusiastic
+cheering of their crews, and groans of disappointment from the English
+prisoners.
+
+Yet these same prisoners had little cause to complain of their
+treatment when they arrived at Brest; for they were landed at once,
+and the captain and officers were liberated on parole. The French also
+treated them very well and invited the valorous George Walker to many
+a repast, where they laughed at the narrow shave that he had had from
+death,--for they had left the _Fleuron_ none too soon.
+
+On the day following the landing, Captain Walker was seated in the
+office of a counting-house, near the dock-end, and was writing a
+letter to the captain of the _Fleuron_, requesting him to send him his
+letter-of-credit, which was in a tin box in a cabin of the French
+man-of-war, when a terrible _Boom!_ sounded upon his ears.
+
+A sailor came running past the open window.
+
+"The _Fleuron_ has blown up!" he cried. "The _Fleuron_ is a total
+loss!"
+
+Captain Walker dashed into the street; to the end of the quay; and
+there a sad spectacle greeted his eager gaze. Strewn about upon the
+surface of the water were broken spars; pieces of sail; and the debris
+of a once gallant man-of-war. The remnants of the _Fleuron_ were
+burning brightly.
+
+The captain of the French ship came running by. "Helas!" he wailed. "A
+careless gunner has destroyed my gallant vessel. Helas! Helas!"
+
+It was too true. Four or five powder barrels had been left in the
+magazine for saluting purposes, and quite a little loose powder had
+been allowed to lie upon the floor. Some careless seamen had gone down
+into the hold with a decrepit, old lantern. The handle broke, the
+flame set fire to the loose powder,--and that was the end of the
+gallant ship _Fleuron_. She burned to the water's edge and then went
+down to the bottom with a dull, sizzling hiss; while the treasure also
+disappeared. Later on, divers secured a part of it, but much that was
+of value was never recovered.
+
+Captain Walker did not long grieve over the loss of his
+letter-of-credit, left on board the ill-starred _Fleuron_, for he was
+exchanged, after a few weeks, and was sent back to England with his
+crew. This was in 1745. He lost no time in reporting to the owners of
+the _Mars_, and so well did they think of him, that in a short while
+they sent him upon another privateering venture aboard the _Boscawen_,
+which, as you remember, had run away from the _Mars_, after she had
+fallen in with the two French men-of-war. Now occurred his greatest
+sea-fight.
+
+The _Boscawen_ had been built in France and had been a prize, taken
+at sea. She mounted twenty-eight guns (nine-pounders), but Walker
+added two more, and shipped a crew of three hundred and fourteen men.
+Without waiting for the _Mars_, the stout sea-dog put out to sea on
+April 19th, 1745, steering for the shores of France where cruised the
+prize-laden clipper ships, and the unwelcome men-of-warsmen. The
+British privateersman cruised about for a whole month without any
+luck, and, falling in with the privateer _Sheerness_, joined with her
+in a little run in search of inoffensive merchantmen. At daybreak a
+cry came from the forward watch,--
+
+"Sails ho! Sails ho! Off the starboard quarter! There're eight o' them
+an' heading no' east."
+
+Both the privateers started in pursuit, but the _Sheerness_ was left
+far astern, as the _Boscawen_ was a speedy sailer. The latter drew
+near the eight scudding sail, which suddenly veered about and formed a
+line, awaiting an attack. The _Sheerness_ was way astern. Would
+Captain Walker advance?
+
+It was eight against one, and there was no certainty what was the
+armament of the vessels now standing in a row, all ready for action.
+The faces of the officers on the _Boscawen_ showed anxiety and
+suspense, but there was no shadow of fear upon the countenance of
+Captain Walker, who now addressed them in the following words:
+
+"Gentlemen, I hope that you do not think the number of prizes before
+us too many. Be assured, my good friends, that by their being armed,
+they have something on board of them that is worth defending. I take
+them to be merchantmen with letters of marque (privateers), and
+homeward bound. Without doubt we shall meet with some opposition, in
+which I know that you will exhibit your usual courage. We must conquer
+these superior numbers by superior skill. Be cool. Be careful that you
+aim correctly, for, as we shall be pressed on all sides, let every man
+do his best to engage the enemy that he sees before him.
+
+"In a word, Gentlemen, if you will put full confidence in me for
+leading you on, I will pawn my life upon the fact that I will bring
+you off victorious."
+
+"Hurray! Hurray for Walker!" came the reassuring response.
+
+"Then go to your quarters, my hearties! Fight like Britishers of old,
+and all will be well!" cried the brave mariner.
+
+Like a hornet among a group of snap-dragons, the _Boscawen_ now sailed
+into the centre of the enemy's line.
+
+"Do not fire until I give the word!" cried Captain Walker, as the salt
+spray kicked and splashed about the bow of the on-coming _Boscawen_.
+"Then hammer away like anvils on a sledge!"
+
+Sixty men were ill on board the stout little English privateer, but
+all save three crawled on deck in order to render what assistance they
+could in pointing and handling the guns.
+
+Now was a glorious fight.
+
+_Bang! Crash! Z-i-i-p!_
+
+The French privateers were hammering away as the Englishman approached
+and their balls cut and tore through the rigging, damaging the mizzen
+topsail, and splitting a topmast. Steering straight for the largest
+vessel, Walker waited until he was within close range and then gave
+the order:
+
+"Fire, and hull her if you can."
+
+_Poof! Cr-a-a-sh!_
+
+A blinding broadside rolled from the port of the _Boscawen_, and the
+solid shot bit and tore the stranger like a terrier mouthing a rat.
+
+The valiant little privateer was now in the midst of the enemy. Two
+were to right of her; two to the left of her; one across her bow; and
+one across her stern. Two of the eight decamped, at this juncture;
+making the odds six, instead of eight, to one.
+
+"_Pow! Pow! Cu-boom!_"
+
+The vessel astern was banging away like a Banshee, but a sudden
+_crash_ from the stern guns so badly damaged her that she hauled off.
+It was now five to one.
+
+"Keep it up, boys!" cried Walker, above the roar and rattle of the
+fray. "You're doing splendidly. You all deserve statues in the temple
+of fame."
+
+"Huzzah!" shouted his men. "Hurray for the _Boscawen_. Down with the
+Frenchmen!"
+
+"_Cu-pow! Boom! Boom!_" roared the cannon, while the broadsides from
+the _Boscawen_ were delivered without either confusion or disorder.
+The five were sparring gamely, but they were lightly armed, with only
+a few guns to each, so the thirty nine-pounders on board the English
+privateer were about an equal match for the greater numbers of the
+foe.
+
+Thus the fight raged for an hour, when, suddenly, the ensign upon the
+mast of the French flagship was seen to flutter to the deck. Ten
+minutes later a cry arose from a sailor aboard the _Boscawen_:
+
+"Look, Captain, she's sinking!"
+
+Sure enough, the accurate fire from the British privateer had so
+riddled the hull of the Frenchman, that she fast filled with water,
+and sank, stern first, her men escaping in their small boats.
+
+"That's one less, anyway," mused Captain Walker.
+
+The remaining four continued the fight, but the little privateer was
+too much for them. Around and around she veered, broadsiding with
+astonishing accuracy, and knocking the spars about like a foot-ball
+team kicking a ball. "_Pow! Pow!_" the guns roared, and the men cried,
+"Remember the oath of our captain! Let's take 'em all!"
+
+It began to look as if they would do it, too; for, now upon the
+starboard quarter appeared the white sails of a vessel, and, as she
+approached, a joyous cheer arose from the deck of the _Boscawen_, for
+it was the _Sheerness_.
+
+"Now we'll get 'em! Now we'll get 'em!" yelled the British sailors,
+and they plied their guns with renewed activity and care.
+
+Down came the flag upon one of the Frenchmen, and--in a few
+moments--down came another. Then, as the _Sheerness_ rolled closer,
+two more ensigns fluttered to the deck. There was but one Frenchman
+left, and she made off, with the newcomer hot in pursuit.
+
+"Hurray! Hurray! Hurray!" The sailors on board the _Boscawen_ were
+fairly jumping for joy. "Hurray! Hurray! Hurray!" they yelled.
+
+And well might they cheer, for had they not won one of the pluckiest
+sea-fights of all history? The enemy is said to have had one hundred
+and thirteen killed and drowned, while the casualties of the
+_Boscawen_ amounted to but one killed and seven wounded. "And this,"
+says an old chronicler of the spirited affair, "was due to the fact
+that the British privateer had a bulwark of elm-planking, man-high,
+around her deck. It was so fashioned that there was a step on which
+the marines could mount and fire, and then come down in order to load.
+Furthermore, this elm-wood did not splinter; but kept out the bullets,
+and closed up around the holes made by shot."
+
+At any rate, it was a glorious victory, and when--a few hours
+later--the _Sheerness_ came back with the other French vessel a prize,
+the total capture amounted to six vessels: homeward bound traders from
+Martinique, provided with letters of marque, and with about six guns
+each. Their crews were undoubtedly undisciplined and ill-used to
+shooting, else how could they have done so badly with the _Boscawen_?
+
+The prizes were headed for the English coast and arrived at King's
+Road, Bristol, in a few days, where a swarm of eager sight-seers
+crowded about the shattered craft.
+
+"My! My!" said many. "This Walker is another Drake. He is a valiant
+soul!"
+
+And so thought the British Admiralty, for they sent him a letter (upon
+his reporting to them) which read:
+
+"We cannot too highly congratulate and commend you upon the
+seamanship and courage which you have displayed in the capture of
+these French vessels. Your daring and ability should always make your
+name one to be revered by those Britishers who follow the sea. May
+your future career upon the ocean but add to the laurels which you
+have already won!"
+
+And were they not right?
+
+Seldom has such a feat been accomplished, and seldom has one vessel
+come off victorious against such odds. If you love a game warrior,
+cheer for George Walker, for he deserves it. If you are an admirer of
+the fighting quality in a man, give three times three for the
+privateersman who had the nerve to sail into eight vessels,--and won
+out.
+
+So much, indeed, did the British owners of the privateer vessels think
+of Captain Walker, that he was now placed in command of four ships,
+known as "The Royal Family of Privateers," for each was named after
+some member of the English royal family. These were the _Princess
+Amelia_, of twenty-four guns and one hundred and fifty men: the
+_Prince Frederick_ of twenty-six guns and two hundred and sixty men:
+the _Duke_ of twenty guns and two hundred and sixty men; and the _King
+George_, of thirty-two guns and three hundred men. This last boat was
+commanded by Walker, himself; the _Duke_ by Edward Dottin, a staunch
+sailor; the _Prince Frederick_ by Hugh Bromedge; and the _Princess
+Amelia_ by Robert Denham. The entire squadron carried nearly a
+thousand men and one hundred and two guns, so, you see, that it could
+do quite a little damage to the enemies of Merrie England.
+
+Sailing in May, 1746, the squadron soon met with hard luck, for the
+_Prince Frederick_ ran upon a rock in Bristol Channel, and had to be
+left behind; for she was badly punctured below the water-line. The
+three others sailed for the coast of France, and--a week later--had a
+startling little adventure.
+
+A heavy fog lay over the sobbing water, and the three English
+sea-robbers were gliding along within easy gun-shot of each other,
+when it was evident that they were near some other vessels. Voices
+came out of the mist, lights flashed (for it was near the close of
+day), and the wash of water could be heard, as the waves beat against
+solid oak planking.
+
+"Egad!" whispered Captain Walker to one of his lieutenants. "Listen,
+my boy, and tell me whether these voices are French, Spanish, or
+English."
+
+The lieutenant held a speaking-trumpet to his ear.
+
+The _swish_, _swish_ of water came to the eager senses of the anxious
+privateersman. That was all!
+
+Captain Walker passed the word around among his men to be absolutely
+silent, and, as he strained his hearing, in order to catch the
+faintest sound from the strangers, suddenly he heard the sentence,
+
+"Pressy! Chantez une chanson. Je vais me coucher." (Sing a song,
+Pressy. I am going to bed.)
+
+In a second the gallant Walker knew that, as once before, he was in
+the midst of some French vessels.
+
+"Caught!" he whispered. "And I believe that they're men-of-warsmen!
+Now we're in a pretty pickle!"
+
+His officers scowled.
+
+"I know that they're men-o'-warsmen," said one, "for, just now, the
+fog lifted for a second, and I could make out--by their lights--that
+they were large gun-ships."
+
+Captain Walker looked dejected.
+
+"The deuce," said he.
+
+But he soon regained his composure.
+
+"Put every light out on board," he ordered. "These fellows see us, for
+I hear them bearing over our way."
+
+Sure enough, from the swashing of water and glimmer of lights in the
+fog, it could be seen that the great lumbering men-of-war were closing
+in upon the privateer. But the Frenchmen had a human eel to capture
+and he was equal to the occasion.
+
+"Bring up a couple of casks from below!" cried Captain Walker. They
+were soon on deck.
+
+"Now put a lantern in one and lash them together," he continued.
+"We'll alter our course and skip, while the Frenchies will follow this
+light."
+
+The ruse worked magnificently, and, when morning dawned and the bright
+sun burned off the fog, the French men-of-war found themselves
+hovering around a couple of old casks with a lantern tied to the top;
+while Captain Walker in the _King George_ was scudding along the
+French coast, many miles away. At which the French captain remarked,
+
+"Sapristi! L'oiseau s'est envole." (Egad! The bird has flown!)
+
+Not long after this "The Royal Family of Privateers" took some
+valuable prizes, and, having chased a small, French merchantman into
+the bay of Safia, in Morocco, Captain Walker determined to capture her
+at night, by sending a party against her in the long-boats. A second
+lieutenant was put in charge of this venture, and, at dark three
+tenders, crowded with armed seamen and propelled by muffled oars,
+started after the prize. As they neared the merchantman a hail came
+through the blackness:
+
+"Qui est la?" (Who is there?)
+
+No answer was made to this, but the boats kept straight on.
+
+_Crash! Bang!_
+
+A gun roared in the faces of the privateers, and shots came falling
+around them like hail-stones,--but still they kept on.
+
+Again _Crash! Crash! Crash!_
+
+The Frenchmen were plying their guns right willingly, but the English
+sailors could not be stopped, and they neared the vessel under
+vigorous sweeps of the oars. The lieutenant in command was badly
+wounded, and was forced to lie in the bottom of his boat, but--in a
+few moments--the tenders were alongside the merchantman, and the
+sailors, with a wild yell, were clambering to her deck. There was a
+fierce hand-to-hand struggle, but nothing would gainsay the rush of
+the British tars. In twenty minutes the fight was all over and the
+vessel was towed out of the bay, in triumph, next morning. As she was
+a smart, little craft she was turned into a privateer in place of the
+_Prince Frederick_ (which had run aground) and was christened the
+_Prince George_.
+
+The "Royal Family" continued upon its way, made many captures,
+and--after eight months--put into the harbor of Lisbon with prizes and
+prize-money amounting to L220,000 (about $1,100,000). So you can see
+that privateering was a very lucrative trade in those days, when
+successfully pursued. Not a single man had been killed aboard the
+little fleet, but many had been severely wounded. The ships were
+overhauled, refitted, and, being joined by the _Prince Frederick_,
+amounted to six in number, for the vessel captured in the harbor of
+Safia had been converted into a full-fledged privateer. Now was to be
+one of the most gruelling sea-fights in which George Walker ever
+engaged.
+
+In the month of October the squadron was cruising off of Lagos Bay, on
+the coast of Portugal, when a large sail was sighted at about five in
+the morning. The _Princess Amelia_ was at anchor in the harbor of
+Lagos, so Captain Walker sent a small sloop (a recent capture) after
+her to tell her to "Hurry up and get under way," while he gave signal
+to the other vessels to chase the stranger at once. All started after
+the foreigner, who stood to the northward and could be seen to be
+crowding on all possible canvas. There were four ships in this merry
+little chase, but two of them--the _Duke_ and the _Prince
+George_--dropped out, after about an hour's run. They either could
+not get up, or else their captains grew tired of the affair.
+
+On, on, went the other privateers, and--at about noon--Walker drew
+near the fugitive, in the _King George_. The _Prince Frederick_, with
+her twenty-six guns, was still some distance away, but Walker kept
+after the stranger, although he now saw that she was a large
+vessel,--much more powerful than the _King George_, with her
+thirty-two guns and three hundred men. He was rapidly nearing the big
+fellow, when it grew suddenly calm, so that neither could move.
+
+At this moment an ejaculation of astonishment burst from the lips of
+some of the officers aboard the saucy _King George_.
+
+"She's a seventy-four!" cried several. "We're in a tight hole!"
+
+Sure enough, the pursued hoisted her colors, ran out her guns, and
+showed herself to be a man-of-warsman carrying seventy-four cannon:
+over double the amount of armament aboard the plucky _King George_.
+
+"I can't make out whether she's Spanish or Portuguese," said Captain
+Walker, gazing carefully at her drooping flag.
+
+The colors hung down in the dead calm, and it was impossible to tell
+whether they were Spanish or Portuguese; for the two ensigns--at that
+period--were very similar.
+
+The sea-warriors drifted along, eyeing each other, for about an hour,
+when the stranger ran in her lower deck-guns and closed her
+port-holes.
+
+"She's a treasure ship," cried a sailor. "And she won't fight if she
+can avoid it!"
+
+Walker turned to his officers and asked,
+
+"Gentlemen, shall we fight her?"
+
+"Aye! Aye!" came from all. "She's afraid of us!"
+
+The vessel, in fact, was a treasure ship which had been recently
+chased by some English men-of-war and had already landed her treasure,
+to the value of about one million sterling (about $5,000,000). A
+slight breeze sprang up, at about five in the afternoon, and the big
+ship kept on her course; the gamey _King George_ following, while the
+white sails of the _Prince Frederick_ were far astern, as the breeze
+had not yet struck her. So they swashed along, the Englishmen anxious
+for a fight, and a chance to overhaul the supposed treasure which the
+stranger was carrying. At eight o'clock the _King George_ was struck
+by a favorable puff of wind, and came quite close to the seventy-four.
+It was time for battle.
+
+"What ship is that?" hailed Captain Walker, in the Portuguese tongue.
+He was cleared for action and his men were all lying down at their
+quarters. There was no answer to his challenge.
+
+"What ship is that?" he asked again; this time in English.
+
+A voice came back,--also in English,
+
+"And what ship may you be?"
+
+"The _King George_."
+
+_Crash! B-oo-m!_
+
+A thundering broadside belched from the side of the seventy-four,
+dismounting two guns on the port side of the _King George_, and
+bringing the main topsail yard crashing to the deck. It was now bright
+moonlight, and in its radiance the flag of the stranger was seen to
+blow straight out, disclosing her nationality to be Spanish. She was
+the _Glorioso_: a strong and powerful vessel, ably officered and ably
+manned. She towered above the little _King George_ like a
+church-spire, and her broadsides now sputtered with great regularity.
+
+_Crash! Crash! Crash!_
+
+The sprightly little _King George_ kept after the big warship like a
+sword-fish chasing a whale. She drew so close that some burning wads
+from the Spanish guns set fire to her mainsail. Continually hoping
+that the _Prince Frederick_ would come up, the gallant Walker hammered
+away at the _Glorioso_ with furious precision, and drove her so near
+the rocks off Cape Vincent that the castle guns began to play upon the
+two grappling warriors of the sea. The British sea-captain fought and
+commanded with "a calmness peculiar to himself" and his example
+secured order and discipline even in the thickest of the fight, when
+the mainsail was set on fire. He was magnificent in action.
+
+So the unequal struggle kept on. By half-past ten the _King George_
+had been so severely damaged aloft that she could not have escaped if
+she had tried. All the braces were shot away; the foremast was quite
+disabled; and the mainmast was badly splintered. Battered, torn, and
+distressed she kept banging away at the great, towering Spaniard;
+while the big fellow ceased her fire somewhat, and ever now and again
+let go a broadside, like the blow from the mouth of a huge whale. It
+sounded like, _Chu-spow!_
+
+[Illustration: ACTION BETWEEN THE "GLORIOSO" AND THE "KING GEORGE" AND
+"PRINCE FREDERICK" UNDER GEORGE WALKER.]
+
+But hurrah! hurrah! The _Prince Frederick_ had at last caught the
+breeze, and came bouncing by, her little pennons fluttering like so
+many silk stockings on a clothes-line.
+
+"Are you all well?" shouted her commander, as he neared the splintered
+_King George_. "You look as if you're sinking."
+
+Captain Walker came to the rail with the speaking-trumpet in his hand.
+
+"One killed and fifteen wounded," he answered. "Now sail after that
+Spanish villain and take her, in revenge for all the damage that she
+has done me. She's a treasure ship."
+
+"All right," Captain Dottin called back, and he kept on after the
+_Glorioso_, which was now rapidly drawing away.
+
+By the bright moonlight it could be seen that the _Duke_ and the
+_Prince George_ were also approaching. And, when they came close
+enough to the maimed and battered _King George_, her captain called to
+them, "to keep on after the Spaniard, and catch the rascal." They
+continued on their way, and, at daybreak the three vessels could be
+seen, through the glass, as they closed in upon the Spanish game-cock
+from three sides. "She'll be ours before nightfall," said Captain
+Walker, chuckling.
+
+The headmost ship, apparently the _Duke_ under Captain Dottin, could
+now be seen to hotly engage the _Glorioso_, which greatly displeased
+the captain of the dismantled _King George_.
+
+"Dottin will fire away all of his cartridges," said he, turning to a
+few of his officers, who clustered around him. "He will shoot them all
+off at too great a distance, and will afterwards be obliged to load
+with loose powder, by which some fatal accident is sure to occur. He's
+a brave fellow, but a rash one!"
+
+He had scarcely spoken, when a broadside rang out. Simultaneously,
+with the discharge of the guns, a pillar of smoke and flame shot high
+into the air.
+
+"Good Heavens, the _Duke_ has blown up!" cried Captain Walker. "Dottin
+and his brave followers have found a watery grave!"
+
+"It is merely the smoke of a broadside," one of the officers
+interrupted.
+
+"No! No!" answered Walker, dejectedly. "It's the last that will ever
+be seen of noble Dottin and his men!"
+
+The smoke now cleared away and no ship was to be seen upon the surface
+of the water. The _Glorioso_ was still-belching both smoke and flame,
+and near her were three sails, indistinctly seen through a haze of
+smoke and fog. Could it not have been the _Duke_, after all? "Vain
+thought," cried bold Walker, aloud. "Our bravest and best ship has
+gone to the bottom."
+
+This terrible incident had such an effect upon the seamen of the _King
+George_ that Captain Walker called the officers aside into the
+companionway, and there made them a speech.
+
+"My brave men," said he, "you must keep up an air of cheerfulness
+before these fellows of ours, for, otherwise they will be backward in
+fighting, and will not have the courage which we desire. Go among them
+and show no sign that you are lacking in pleasantry."
+
+As he ceased speaking there was a series of sudden explosions, mingled
+with cries of alarm.
+
+"Gad zooks! What's happened!" cried all, rushing to the deck.
+
+They found matters in a sorry state, for the crew was in a panic; some
+clinging outside the ship; some climbing out upon the bowsprit, all
+ready to jump overboard should the vessel blow up.
+
+Captain Walker was astonished. "Why, men!" said he. "What means this
+confusion?"
+
+It was easily explained, for the alarm had been caused by a seaman who
+stepped upon a number of loaded muskets, which had been covered by a
+sail. One was fired off accidentally, and this exploded some spare
+ammunition, set the sail on fire, and completely demoralized the crew;
+who still were thinking of the sad tragedy which they had just
+witnessed. Order was quickly restored, the blazing sail was torn down
+and bucketed, and the terrified sailors came back to their posts. When
+men have their nerves shattered, it is easy to startle them.
+
+But how about the _Glorioso_?
+
+The fair-fighting Spaniard was far out of sight, by now, still
+whanging away at her many enemies, and still proudly flaunting the
+flag of Arragon in the faces of the British war-dogs, who were
+snapping and snarling at her like a wolf pack. What became of her was
+not known for several days, when the poor, battered _King George_
+staggered into a sheltering harbor, there to meet with the _Duke_
+herself, which was Dottin's good ship,--the one which all had thought
+to have exploded and sunk.
+
+"Hurray!" shouted many. "She's afloat after all!"
+
+Eager questioning brought out the fact that it had been the frigate
+_Dartmouth_ which had exploded; a vessel which had run near the fight
+in order to see the fun. Some loose powder had set fire to her
+magazine, and thus she had suffered the same fate as the _Fleuron_,
+which, as you remember, had blown up, when at anchor in the harbor of
+Brest. _It's a wise ship that keeps away from a sea battle._
+
+Only seventeen of the crew of this unfortunate craft had been picked
+up by the boats of the _Prince Frederick_; one of whom was an Irish
+lieutenant named O'Brien, who was hauled aboard Dottin's vessel, clad
+only in a night shirt.
+
+"Sirrah!" said he, bowing politely. "You must excuse the unfitness of
+my dress to come aboard a strange ship, but really I left my own in
+such a hurry that I had no time to stay for a change." He had been
+blown out of a port-hole!
+
+An additional vessel, the _Russel_, had aided in the capture of the
+powerful _Glorioso_, so it had taken four privateers to down the proud
+Castilian: the _Duke_, the _Prince George_, the _Prince Frederick_,
+and the _Russel_. Certainly she had put up a magnificent battle and
+she had completely crippled the stout little craft sailed by Captain
+Walker, who was now filled with chagrin and mortification, when he
+found that the treasure (which he had been sure was in the hold) had
+been safely landed at Ferrol, before he had sighted this valorous
+man-of-warsman. It was a great blow both to him and to his men, and,
+upon arriving at Lisbon he was met by one of the owners of his own
+vessel, who severely reprimanded him for fighting with such a powerful
+boat.
+
+"Captain Walker," said he, "I fear that your fighting blood is
+superior to your prudence!"
+
+But to this, the game old sea-dog replied, with considerable heat:
+
+"Had the treasure been aboard the _Glorioso_, as I expected, my dear
+sir, your compliment would have been far different. Or had we let her
+escape from us with the treasure aboard, what would you have said
+then?"
+
+To these sage reflections the owner did not reply.
+
+The honesty and courage of this able seaman were never questioned, and
+the following incident bears good witness to the first quality. Upon
+one occasion he was sailing for Lisbon in a well-armed privateer, when
+a couple of East India trading ships offered him L1,000 ($5,000) if he
+would act as their guard and protect them from the enemy.
+
+"Gentlemen," said he to the captain of these vessels, "I shall never
+take a reward for what I consider it my duty to do without one. I
+consider it my bounden duty to conduct you both safely into port, for
+you are both British ships, and I am engaged to fight the enemies of
+our King."
+
+So he convoyed them safely into port and would not take even the
+smallest present, in recompense for his services.
+
+As a fighter he had no superior. War is simply glorified sport and
+those who are best trained athletically can usually win upon the
+battle-field. Did not Wellington say, "The battle of Waterloo was won
+upon the foot-ball grounds of Eton and Harrow?" Which was another way
+of saying that the boys who had learned to stand punishment upon the
+athletic field, could take it manfully and well upon the field of
+battle.
+
+Walker believed in athletic exercise and made his sailors continually
+practice both gunnery and work with the cutlass. They were always in
+training and always prepared. That is the reason why they won. As you
+know, if you want to win in athletics you have to train hard and
+practice daily. If you want to win at warfare you have to do likewise.
+The most athletic nation is the nation which will win in the long
+fight, providing that it has sufficient resources and money to carry
+out a war, once that it has placed its men in the field. It takes a
+great deal of money to fight a war, but it takes trained men also, and
+those who are the most fit will win every time.
+
+The English are an athletic nation, an island nation, and great
+numbers of her people have had to follow the sea as a matter of
+course. Hence England has always had a vast quantity of well-trained
+seamen at her beck and call. For this reason she has been more
+successful upon the ocean than many of her neighbors. Will she
+continue to be?
+
+_If she continues to breed men like George Walker there is little
+reason to doubt that she will always be a winner in sea fighting._
+
+As for this famous mariner, little is known of his later life save
+that he was once imprisoned for debt, but this was no disgrace in
+those times and I am sure that he was soon liberated. He died
+September 20th, 1777, but where he was buried is not known, nor is
+there any record of his marriage. At any rate he has left the
+reputation of a brave and valiant seaman who was beloved by his men,
+feared by his enemies, and appreciated by his contemporaries.
+
+
+    "Britannia's glory first from ships arose;
+    To shipping still her power and wealth she owes.
+    Let each experienced Briton then impart,
+    His naval skill to perfect naval art."
+
+
+
+
+BIVOUAC OF THE DEAD
+
+
+    Their silvered swords are red with rust,
+    Their plumed heads are bowed;
+    Their haughty banner, trailed in dust,
+    Is now their martial shroud.
+    And plenteous funeral tears have washed
+    The red stains from each brow,
+    And the proud forms, by battle gashed,
+    Are free from anguish now.
+
+    Yon marble minstrel's voiceless stone
+    In deathless song shall tell,
+    When many a vanished age hath flown,
+    The story how ye fell:
+    Nor wreck, nor change, nor winter's blight,
+    Nor Time's remorseless gloom,
+    Shall dim one ray of glory's light
+    That gilds your deathless tomb.
+
+
+[Illustration: From "The Army and Navy of the United States."
+    AMERICAN PRIVATEER TAKING POSSESSION OF A PRIZE.]
+
+
+
+
+JOHN PAUL JONES
+
+THE FOUNDER OF THE AMERICAN NAVY
+
+(1747-1792)
+
+
+    "Every generation has its own war. To forget the
+    disagreeable is a characteristic of the human
+    mind."--_The Philosopher._
+
+
+JOHN PAUL JONES
+
+THE FOUNDER OF THE AMERICAN NAVY
+
+(1747-1792)
+
+    "Why! Shiver my bones! It's John Paul Jones!
+    Johnny the Pirate! Johnny should swing!
+    Johnny who hails from Old Scotlant y' know,
+    Johnny who's tryin' to fight our good King.
+    Shiver my Timbers! We'll catch the old fox!
+    _Clew up those top-sails! Ware o' th' shoals!_
+    _Fire 'cross his bow-lines! Steer for th' rocks!_
+    _Ease away on the jib-boom; shoot as she rolls!_
+
+    "Oh! Johnny, my Johnny, you're slick as can be,
+    But, Johnny, My John, you'll be nipped present-ly."
+
+                    --_Song of the English Privateers._--1794.
+
+
+A French frigate lay in the silvery water off Norfolk, Virginia, and,
+as she swung quietly upon her anchor chains, a small sloop came
+bobbing alongside. A hail arose from her stern, where sat a man of
+about twenty-eight years; of medium stature, strongly built and
+swarthy. He was dressed in the gray clothing of a Virginian planter.
+
+"Hallo," he shouted in very good French. "May I come aboard?"
+
+"_Certainement! Certainement!_" cried a French officer, as he neared
+the rail. "Welcome, Monsieur Jones!"
+
+And, as the Virginian farmer scrambled upon the deck, he was greeted
+most effusively by a handsome nobleman. It was Louis Philippe Joseph,
+Duke de Chartres; known as "the Sailor Prince of France." The
+Virginian was John Paul Jones, of "Whitehaven" upon the river
+Rappahannock.
+
+"I bring you delicacies of the season from my garden," said the
+planter, smiling. "Some for you, and some for the commander--the
+Commodore de Kersaint. I trust that you will accept them, with my
+kindest regards. Meanwhile, I beg that you will give me leave to
+inspect your vessel and obtain information in regard to her plan,
+construction of the hull, arrangement of the batteries, her spars, her
+rig and other technical particulars. For, know you, Gentlemen, that
+war has just commenced between Great Britain and her Colonies and the
+newly-formed Marine Department of the Government will require a
+knowledge of ships and their construction. Partly for this I have
+visited you."
+
+Kersaint's face grew sober.
+
+"Monsieur Jones," said he, "I have just heard the news from Lexington
+and I am the senior officer upon this coast. France is at peace with
+England. The situation for me is a delicate one. I must refuse to
+allow you to sketch any plans of my vessel."
+
+But the young Duke de Chartres looked upon the matter in a different
+light.
+
+"You shall have all the assistance from me that you wish," he cried.
+"I do not fear the displeasure of England."
+
+So the Virginian planter was allowed to obtain the most complete data
+of the new frigate, even to copies of deck plans and sail spread,
+which he caused his carpenter to make. John Paul Jones was the guest
+of the Frenchman for two or three days.
+
+"And now you will visit my plantation," said he, when the time came
+for him to leave. "Is it not so? For there I can repay some of the
+kindnesses which you have shown me."
+
+"That we cannot do," replied the French commander. "It would be most
+impolitic for us to accept entertainment ashore from persons known to
+be hostile to King George. But we thank you, exceedingly, for your
+kind offer."
+
+So John Paul Jones proceeded alone to his plantation, and the French
+warship sailed for Corunna, Spain, after firing one gun as a salute to
+the new-born nation.
+
+The son of a Scotch gardener of Arbigland, Parish of Kirkbean, the
+youthful farmer had emigrated to America, where his brother owned the
+large plantation upon which he now resided. He found his kinsman dying
+of what was then called lung fever--in our time pneumonia--and, as he
+willed him his Virginian possessions, Jones was soon residing upon
+"3,000 acres of prime land, on the right bank of the Rappahannock;
+1,000 acres cleared and under plough, or grass; with 2,000 acres of
+strong, first-growth timber." He had a grist-mill; a mansion;
+overseer's houses; negro quarters; stables; tobacco houses; threshing
+floors; thirty negroes of all ages; twenty horses and colts; eighty
+neat cattle and calves; and many sheep and swine. Thus lived the
+future sea-captain; in peace, plenty, and seclusion, at the outbreak
+of the American Revolution.
+
+John Paul Jones had gone to sea at the early age of twelve. As a
+master's apprentice upon the stout brig _Friendship_, he had sailed
+from Scotland to the North American Colonies, the West Indies, and
+back again. He had kept to his seaman's life, and--so improved in
+knowledge of his profession--that he became second mate; then first
+mate; then Captain. At twenty-one he had amassed a fortune of about
+one thousand guineas ($5,000) in gold,--then equal, in purchasing
+power, to three times this sum. Besides this he had studied French and
+Spanish assiduously, so that he could speak the first like a native.
+It was to be of great help to the ambitious mariner. And he had plenty
+of nerve, as the following incident bears full witness:
+
+Upon one of his many voyages, the crew was reduced, by fever, to five
+or six hands. One of them was a huge mulatto named Munro--or
+"Mungo"--Maxwell. They became mutinous, and, as Captain Jones was the
+only officer who could keep the deck, it was found necessary to subdue
+the refractory seaman.
+
+"Will you obey my orders?" cried Jones, picking up a belaying pin.
+
+"You go sit down," cried Maxwell. "I no like you. _Pish!_ I could kill
+you with one crack."
+
+John Paul Jones did not answer, but walking towards the big black, he
+struck him just one blow with his pin. "Mungo" dropped to the deck and
+lay there. He never rose again.
+
+Upon arriving at port, Captain Jones surrendered to the authorities,
+and asked for a trial. It was given him.
+
+"Captain Paul," asked the Judge, "are you, in conscience, satisfied
+that you used no more force than was necessary to preserve discipline
+on your ship?"
+
+"May it please the most Honorable Court, Sir," answered the doughty
+seaman, "it became imperative to strike the mutinous sailor, Maxwell.
+Whenever it becomes necessary for a commanding officer to hit a
+seaman, it is also necessary to strike with a weapon. I may say that
+the necessity to strike carries with it the necessity to kill, or to
+completely disable the mutineer. I had two brace of loaded pistols in
+my belt, and could easily have shot him. I struck with a belaying pin
+in preference, because I hoped that I might subdue him without killing
+him. But the result proved otherwise. I trust that the Honorable Court
+and the jury will take due account of the fact that, though amply
+provided with pistols throwing ounce balls, necessarily fatal weapons,
+I used a belaying pin, which, though dangerous, is not necessarily a
+fatal weapon."
+
+The judge smiled and Captain Paul was acquitted.
+
+The famous Lord Nelson once said: "A naval officer, unlike a military
+commander, can have no fixed plans. He must always be ready for _the_
+chance. It may come to-morrow, or next week, or next year, or never;
+but he must be _always ready_!" Nunquam non Paratus. (Never
+unprepared.)
+
+Paul Jones kept a copy of this maxim in his head. He was always in
+training; always on the _qui vive_; always prepared. And--because he
+was always prepared--he accomplished what would seem to be the
+impossible.
+
+Shortly placed in command of a sloop-of-war, the _Alfred_ (one of the
+four vessels which constituted the American Navy), Lieutenant Jones
+assisted in an expedition against Fort Nassau, New Providence Island,
+in the Bahamas, which was a complete and absolute failure. On the way
+home, and when passing the end of Long Island, his boat was chased by
+the twenty-gun sloop-of-war _Glasgow_. The long shot kicked up a lot
+of spray around the fleet American vessel, but it was of no use. Jones
+got away and sailed into Newport Harbor, Rhode Island, with sails full
+of holes and stern-posts peppered with lead. But he was created a
+Captain; placed in command of the _Providence_--sloop-of-war, fourteen
+guns and one hundred and seven men--and soon harried the seas in
+search of fighting and adventure. With him were two faithful negro
+boys--Cato and Scipio--who followed him through the many vicissitudes
+of the Revolutionary War.
+
+The seas traversed by the _Providence_ were full of English
+cruisers--superior in size to the saucy American--but inferior in
+alertness and resources of her commander and her crew. She captured
+sixteen vessels--of which eight were sent to port and eight were
+destroyed at sea. Twice she was chased by British frigates, and, on
+one of these occasions, narrowly escaped capture.
+
+As the little sloop was running into one of the many harbors of the
+coast, a fast-sailing frigate bore down upon her from the starboard
+quarter.
+
+_Whang!_
+
+Her bow-guns spoke and said "Heave to!"
+
+But Captain Jones had heard this call before, and kept on upon his
+course.
+
+"She's got me," said he. "But, as the breeze is fresh I may run away.
+Stand ready, Boys, and let go your tackle immediate, when I give the
+command!"
+
+The helm was now put hard-up and the _Providence_ crept into the wind.
+Closer and closer came the brig--now her bow-guns sputtered--and a
+shot ricochetted near the lean prow of the _Providence_. But the sloop
+kept on.
+
+Suddenly--just as the brig drew alongside--Paul Jones swung his rudder
+over, wore around in the wind, and ran dead to leeward.
+
+"Watch her sniffle!" cried the gallant Captain, as the brig
+_chug-chugged_ on the dancing waves, and, endeavoring to box short
+about, came up into the wind. But fortune favored the American
+skipper. Just then a squall struck the Englishman; she lost steering
+way; and hung upon the waves like a huge rubber ball, while her
+Captain said things that cannot be printed.
+
+When in this condition, Jones ran his boat within half gun-shot, gave
+her a dose of iron from one of his stern-guns, and--before the
+frigate could get squared away--was pounding off before the wind,
+which was the sloop's best point of sailing.
+
+"Well," said the crafty John Paul, his face wreathed in smiles. "If
+the frigate had simply followed my manoeuver of wearing around under
+easy helm and trimming her sails as the wind bore, I could not have
+distanced her much in the alteration of the course, and she must have
+come off the wind very nearly with me, and before I could get out of
+range.
+
+"I do not take to myself too great credit for getting away. I did the
+best that I could, but there was more luck than sense to it. A good or
+bad puff of wind foils all kinds of skill one way or the other--and
+this time when I saw the little squall cat's-pawing to windward--I
+thought that I would ware ship and see if the Britisher wouldn't get
+taken aback. The old saying that 'Discretion is the better part of
+valor' may, I think, be changed to 'Impudence is--or may be,
+sometimes--the better part of discretion.'"
+
+Two kinds of news greeted the slippery sailor when he arrived in port.
+One was a letter from Thomas Jefferson, enclosing his commission as
+Captain in the Continental Navy, by Act of Congress. The other--an
+epistle from his agents in Virginia, informing him that, during the
+month of July previous, his plantation had been utterly ravaged by an
+expedition of British and Tories (Virginians who sided with England in
+the war) under Lord Dunmore. His buildings had all been burned; his
+wharf demolished; his livestock killed; and every one of his
+able-bodied slaves of both sexes had been carried off to Jamaica to
+be sold. The enemy had also destroyed his growing crops; cut down his
+fruit trees; in short, nothing was left of his once prosperous and
+valuable plantation but the bare ground.
+
+"This is part of the fortunes of war," said Jones. "I accept the
+extreme animosity displayed by Lord Dunmore as a compliment to the
+sincerity of my attachment to the cause of liberty."
+
+Bold words, well spoken by a bold man!
+
+"But," continued the able sailor, "I most sadly deplore the fate of my
+poor negroes. The plantation was to them a home, not a place of
+bondage. Their existence was a species of grown-up childhood, not
+slavery. Now they are torn away and carried off to die under the
+pestilence and lash of Jamaica cane-fields; and the price of their
+poor bodies will swell the pockets of English slave-traders. For this
+cruelty to those innocent, harmless people, I hope sometime, somehow,
+to find an opportunity to exact a reckoning."
+
+Again bold sentiments,--and the reckoning, too, was forthcoming.
+
+"I have no fortune left but my sword, and no prospect except that of
+getting alongside of the enemy," wrote the impoverished sea-captain to
+a Mr. Hewes.
+
+This prospect also was to soon have ample fulfilment.
+
+Ordered to take command of the _Alfred_, Captain Jones made a short
+cruise eastward, in 1776, accompanied by the staunch little
+_Providence_. The journey lasted only thirty-three days, but, during
+that time, seven ships of the enemy fell into the clutches of the two
+American vessels.
+
+"Aha!" cried Captain Jones, as he rubbed his hands. "This looks more
+propitious for our cause. We have taken the _Mellish_ and the
+_Biddeford_. Let us break into them and see how much of the King's
+treasure has been secured."
+
+And it was indeed good treasure!
+
+The _Mellish_ was found to contain ten thousand complete uniforms,
+including cloaks, boots, socks and woollen shirts, for the winter
+supply of General Howe's army; seven thousand pairs of blankets; one
+thousand four hundred tents; six hundred saddles and complete cavalry
+equipments; one million seven hundred thousand rounds of fixed
+ammunition (musket cartridges); a large quantity of medical stores;
+forty cases of surgical instruments; and forty-six soldiers who were
+recruits sent out to join the various British regiments then serving
+in the Colonies.
+
+The larger prize--the _Biddeford_--carried one thousand seven hundred
+fur overcoats for the use of the Canadian troops; eleven thousand
+pairs of blankets, intended partly for the British troops in Canada,
+and partly for the Indians then in British pay along the northern
+frontier; one thousand small-bore guns of the type then known as the
+"Indian-trade smooth-bore," with hatchets, knives, and boxes of flint
+in proportion, to arm the redskins. There were eight light six-pounder
+field guns and complete harness and other equipage for the two
+four-gun batteries of horse-artillery. Also some wines and table
+supplies for Sir Guy Carleton and a case of fine Galway duelling
+pistols for a British officer then serving in Canada.
+
+"These I will appropriate as mine own portion," cried Captain Jones.
+"And also a share of the wines, for I must have something to drink the
+health of mine enemy in." And--so saying--he chuckled gleefully. It
+had been a rich haul.
+
+But the Captain was not happy. His pet project was to cruise in
+European waters, and he wanted to get near the British coast with a
+ship--or better--a squadron of some force.
+
+"Cruises along the American coast," said he, "will annoy the enemy and
+result in capture of small ships and consorts from time to time. But
+who--forsooth--will hear of this in Europe? We will add nothing to our
+prestige as a new nation if we win victories upon this side of the
+ocean."
+
+All who heard him were much impressed by the vehement earnestness of
+his arguments.
+
+"You have had so much success, Mr. Jones," said they, "that we feel
+you will have still greater good fortune in future years."
+
+And Jones said to himself: "Oh, if I only could get the chance!"
+
+It soon came, for on June the 14th, 1777, the Continental Congress
+passed the following resolution:
+
+"_Resolved:_ That Captain John Paul Jones be appointed to command the
+ship _Ranger_" (a brand-new sloop-of-war which had just been launched
+at Portsmouth, N. H.).
+
+This boat was designed to carry a battery of twenty long six-pounders
+and was planned expressly for speed. She was one hundred and sixteen
+feet long, twenty-eight feet in breadth, and her bottom was covered
+with copper: the first American ship to be thus protected. Captain
+Jones put fourteen long nine-pounders in her and only four
+six-pounders, but even then she was top-heavy.
+
+In spite of the fact that it was not quite safe to carry full sail, if
+clearing to windward, close-hauled in squally weather; when running
+free--before the wind--she could course through the water like a
+jack-rabbit. In outward appearance she was a perfect beauty, and, as
+she was rather low in the water for her length, and her masts raked
+two or three degrees more than any other ship of the day, she was--on
+the whole--the sauciest craft afloat. Jones was delighted.
+
+"I have the best crew I have ever seen," said he. "I believe it is the
+best in the world. They are nearly all native Americans, and the
+proportion of able seamen to the total is much beyond the average. I'm
+going to make one or two short runs off the coast--a day or two at a
+time--to shake down the sails and find the best trim of the ship. Then
+away to the shores of England and France!"
+
+He waited impatiently for orders to proceed across the blue Atlantic.
+On October the 18th, 1777, a courier raced frantically into
+Portsmouth, crying,
+
+"Burgoyne has surrendered! Burgoyne has surrendered!" And Jones'
+impatience to be off increased ten-fold.
+
+There were no details of the American victory, for the courier had
+reached the sleepy New England town from the field of Stillwater, in
+about thirty hours, and it was one hundred and forty-seven miles--as
+the crow flies--or, about one hundred and seventy-five by the shortest
+road. He had stopped only long enough to saddle a fresh horse and
+shift his saddle, eating his meals in the stirrups, and never thinking
+of rest until he had shouted his tidings for three full days. The
+patriot country was wild with enthusiasm.
+
+"I will spread the news in France in thirty days," said Jones, when
+his dispatches were placed in his hands, about midnight of October
+the thirty-first. And, running by the whirling eddies of
+"Pull-and-be-damned" Point, he soon had the _Ranger_ clear of the
+low-lying Isle of Shoals: the sea cross and choppy, but the good
+ship bowling along before a fresh gale of wind.
+
+"I had sailed with many Captains," writes Elijah Hall, second
+Lieutenant of the staunch, little vessel, "but I never had seen a ship
+crowded as Captain Jones drove the _Ranger_. The wind held
+northeasterly and fresh 'til we cleared Sable Island and began to draw
+on to the Banks. Then it came northeast and east-northeast with many
+snow squalls, and thick of nights."
+
+Imagine the situation of the _Ranger_'s crew, with a top-heavy,
+cranky ship under their feet, and a Commander who day and night
+insisted on every rag she could stagger under, without laying clear
+down!
+
+As it was, she came close to beam-ends more than once, and on one
+occasion righted only by letting-fly her sheets cut with hatchets.
+During all this trying work Captain Jones was his own navigating
+officer, keeping the deck eighteen or twenty hours out of the
+twenty-four; often serving extra grog to the men with his own hands;
+and, by his example, silencing all disposition to grumble. In the
+worst of it, the watch and watch was lap-watched, so that the men
+would be eight hours on to four off; but no one complained. It speaks
+well alike for commander and crew that not a man was punished or even
+severely reprimanded during the terrific voyage.
+
+But Captain Jones made good his boast. He actually did land at
+Nantes--upon the coast of France--early in the morning of December
+second, 1777, thirty-two days out from Portsmouth. His crew were
+jubilant, and sang a song which ran:
+
+    "So now we had him hard and fast,
+    Burgoyne laid down his arms at last,
+    And that is why we brave the blast,
+    To carry the news to London!
+    Heigh-ho! Carry the News!
+    Go! Go! Carry the News!
+    Tell old King George that he's undone!
+    He's licked by the Yankee squirrel gun.
+       Go!
+          Go!
+       Carry the news to London!"
+
+And Captain John made haste to proceed to Paris, placing the
+dispatches in the hands of Dr. Franklin early upon the fifth day of
+December,--travelling two hundred and twenty miles in sixty hours. He
+returned to his ship about the middle of the month, to find that
+several of the crew were mutinous.
+
+"See here, Captain," said one--a seaman from Portsmouth, New
+Hampshire--"Me and my pals enlisted at home after readin' a hand-bill
+which said that we wuz to get $40.00 apiece extra, for this cruise.
+Now, your young Lieutenant tells us that the reg'lations of Congress
+say that we are to only get th' reg'lar salary allotted by those old
+pals, who make our laws. We came with you thinkin' that we wuz ter git
+this money, and, by gum, we intend to git it!"
+
+"Calm yourself, my good fellow," said Jones soothingly. "If the
+hand-bill said that you were to receive $40.00 you shall have it. You
+shall get this sum even if I have to pay it myself."
+
+And this he did.
+
+"I would not deceive any man who has entered or may enter, to serve in
+my command," remarked John Paul Jones. "I consider myself as being
+under a personal obligation to these brave men, who have cheerfully
+enlisted to serve with me, and I accept their act as a proof of their
+good opinion of me, which I value so highly, that I cannot permit it
+to be dampened in the least degree, by misunderstanding, or failure to
+perform engagements. I wish all my men to be happy and contented. The
+conditions of the hand-bills will be strictly complied with."
+
+Accordingly he disbursed one hundred and forty-seven guineas (about
+$800.00) out of his own pocket, in making good the terms of the
+hand-bill. Is it any wonder that the gallant seaman was popular with
+his followers?
+
+But the _Ranger_ lay at Brest--eager for action--her light sails
+furled; her spars shining with new varnish; her polished guns winking
+in the rays of the sun.
+
+"Come, my Hearties!" cried Captain Jones on April the 10th, "we'll hie
+us out to the west coast of Ireland and see if our new ship cannot
+make a good name for herself."
+
+Sails were hoisted upon the staunch, little vessel. Her bow was turned
+toward the ocean--and--with the new flag of the infant republic
+fluttering from her masts, the _Ranger_ went forth for battle, for
+plunder, and for glory. She was to get a little of each.
+
+Arriving off the coast of Cumberland, and, learning from fishermen
+decoyed on board, that there was a large amount of shipping in the
+harbor of Whitehaven, with no warship of superior force in the
+neighborhood to protect it, the bold American skipper resolved to make
+a dash into this quiet cove, with a view of destroying the ships there
+in port. The British authorities had no suspicion of his presence in
+the Irish Sea.
+
+As the _Ranger_ drew near to Whitehaven, the wind blew such a gale
+from the southwest, that it was impossible to land a boat.
+
+"We must hold off until the breeze slackens!" cried bold Captain
+Jones. "This cannot last forever, and our opportunity will soon be
+here."
+
+Sure enough--the wind died out about midnight of April 22nd--and the
+_Ranger_ beat up towards the town. When about five hundred yards from
+the shore, the vessel was hove to--two boats were lowered--and
+twenty-nine seamen, with third Lieutenant Wallingford, Midshipmen
+Arthur Green and Charles Hill, jumped into them. With Jones in command
+they hastened toward the coast.
+
+The surprise was complete. Two small forts lay at the mouth of the
+harbor, but, as the seamen scrambled ashore, they were precipitately
+abandoned by the garrison of "coast-guards." Captain Jones, Midshipman
+Green, and six men rushed shouting upon one of these, capturing it
+without an effort; the other was taken by Lieutenant Wallingford and
+eight sailors,--while four were left behind as a boat-guard. A few
+pistols spattered, a few muskets rang; but, when the stout sea-dogs
+reached the tidal basin, where the shipping lay, the townsfolk were
+thoroughly aroused. Burning cotton was thrown on board of the ships
+lying at anchor, but only one took fire. It was full daylight, and the
+insignificance of Jones' force became evident to the townsfolk, who
+were rallying from all directions.
+
+"Retreat to the ships," shouted the Yankee Captain, "there is no time
+to lose!"
+
+The landing party--small as it was--had become separated into two
+groups; one commanded by Jones, the other by Wallingford. Thinking
+that Wallingford's party was, for the moment, more seriously menaced
+than his own, Jones attacked and dispersed--with his dozen men--a
+force of about one hundred of the local militia who were endeavoring
+to retake the lower fort, or battery, whose guns had been spiked by
+the Americans. The townsfolk and coast-guards had joined and were
+making a vigorous assault upon Wallingford. But shots flew thick and
+fast from the muskets of the followers of the daring Paul Jones--as
+they retreated to their own boats. The whole landing party--with the
+exception of one man--finally leaped safely into the boat, and were on
+board the _Ranger_ before the sun was an hour over the horizon.
+
+Jones was delighted.
+
+"The actual results of this affair," said he, "are of little moment,
+as we destroyed but one ship. The moral effect--however--is very
+great, as it has taught the English that the fancied security of their
+coasts is a Myth."
+
+In fact this little raid of the valiant John Paul made the Government
+take expensive measures for the defense of numerous ports hitherto
+relying for protection upon the vigilance and supposed omnipotence of
+the navy. It also doubled the rates of marine insurance; which was the
+most grievous damage of all.
+
+"Now to attack a castle!" cried Jones, "and bag an Earl, too, if he is
+around!"
+
+The _Ranger_ was headed for Solway Firth--not more than three hours'
+sail away--where, upon St. Mary's Isle, was the castle of the Earl of
+Selkirk.
+
+"If we can catch the noble owner of this keep," said John Paul, "we
+will hold him as hostage for the better treatment of American
+prisoners in England."
+
+As luck would have it, the Earl was away at this particular time, and,
+although the wild sea-dogs of the _Ranger_ carried off several pieces
+of silverware from the castle, this was all that was captured. Lucky
+Earl! But, had he fallen into the clutches of John Paul, he would have
+been treated with the greatest consideration, for the Captain of the
+_Ranger_ was the most chivalrous of conquerors.
+
+The _Ranger_ stood across the Irish Channel and next day ran into some
+fisher boats.
+
+"Ah! Ha!" laughed one of the sons of Ireland. "The _Drake_--the
+guard-ship at Carrickfergus--is after you, and she's a twenty-gun
+sloop-of-war."
+
+John Paul smiled.
+
+"To lessen trouble," said he, "I'll heave-to off the mouth of Belfast
+Lough and wait for her to work out. This will save her the pains of
+coming after me."
+
+So he luffed his ship, lay to, and waited for the _Drake_ to sail on.
+Her white sails could be seen more clearly as she neared the
+adventurous American. A boat was sent out to reconnoitre--but--as it
+approached, it was surrounded by tenders from the _Ranger_; a
+midshipman and five men in her, were made prisoners. Tide and wind
+were both against the _Drake_; she came on slowly; and, at an hour
+before sundown, was just within hail. The sea was fairly smooth, the
+wind southerly and very light.
+
+"What ship is that?" sounded from the deck of the _Drake_.
+
+"The American Continental ship _Ranger_," rang the clear reply. "Lay
+on! We are waiting for you!"
+
+Both ships bore away before the wind and neared each other to within
+striking distance. _Boom!_ a broadside roared from the side of the
+_Drake_, and the fight had begun.
+
+_Crash! Crash!_ Muskets spoke from the rigging of the _Ranger_, where
+several seamen had climbed in the endeavor to pick off the gunners on
+the deck of the British warship. There were one hundred and
+fifty-seven men upon the _Drake_; Paul Jones had one hundred and
+twenty-six. The _Drake_'s battery was sixteen nine-pounders and four
+sixes. Thus--you see--the advantage was clearly with the Britishers.
+
+Both boats swung along under full canvas, pounding away at each other
+like prize-fighters. Spars were shattered; sails ripped; masts
+splintered in the hail of iron. And--as the fight progressed--it could
+be plainly seen that the marksmanship of those upon the _Drake_ was
+infinitely less accurate than that of the Americans.
+
+"Every shot of our men told," said Jones--not long afterwards. "They
+gave the _Drake_ three broadsides for two, right along, at that. The
+behavior of my crew in this engagement more than justifies the
+representations I have often made, of what American sailors would do,
+if given a chance at the enemy in his own waters. We have seen that
+they fight with courage on our own coast--but fought here, almost
+in hail of the enemy's shore."
+
+[Illustration: From "The Army and Navy of the United States."
+    "BEGAN TO HULL THE 'DRAKE' BELOW THE WATER-LINE."]
+
+As the two ships were going off the wind, which was light, they both
+rolled considerably, and together; that is, when the _Ranger_ went
+down to port, the _Drake_ came up to starboard. The gunners upon the
+quarter-deck of the _Ranger_ timed their guns, so that they were fired
+as their muzzles went down and the enemy's side arose. By this
+practice they began to hull the _Drake_ below the water-line.
+
+"Sink the English! Sink the English!" cried the powder-blackened
+fighters.
+
+But Captain Jones thought differently.
+
+"Don't sink her!" he yelled to gunner Starbuck, above the din of
+battle. "I want to take her alive, instead of destroying her; for it
+will be much more to our advantage if we carry her as a visible prize
+into a French port."
+
+"All right, Cap'n!" shouted his men. "We'll cripple her aloft!"
+
+They now fired as the muzzles rose, and, so terrific were their
+broadsides, that the fore and main topsail-yards came tumbling across
+the starboard quarter, in a tangle of ropes, sails, and rigging.
+
+"Rake her! Rake her!" shouted Jones to his men.
+
+The _Ranger_ luffed and crossed the stern of the _Drake_ with the
+purpose of spanking a full broadside down her decks. The British boat
+was badly crippled and had lost steering way.
+
+But, before the well-aimed guns belched another destructive volley
+into the shattered Englishman, a white flag went aloft, and a voice
+came: "Hold your fire. We surrender!" The _Drake_ was a
+prisoner-of-war.
+
+Thus Paul Jones had won a notable victory, and thus he had proved that
+the British were not invincible, and could be defeated, upon the sea,
+by their own cousins, as readily as upon the land.
+
+When the _Ranger_ lay in the harbor of Brest, a few days later, with
+the _Drake_ alongside, boats crowded about in order to view the vessel
+which had captured another,--larger than herself. And, as the _Ranger_
+had taken three merchant ships on the way to the coast of France, the
+black eyes of the natives shone with beady lustre as they gazed upon
+the graceful hull of the victorious sloop-of-war from Portsmouth, New
+Hampshire.
+
+"See Monsieur Jones," said they, as they nudged each other. "Voila!
+Here is a man who is better than our own sailors. Look at this
+American sea-devil!"
+
+And the chest of John Paul Jones swelled with pride.
+
+Eager and active, the gallant Commodore was most unhappy during the
+next few months, for the _Ranger_ was ordered back to America--under
+his Lieutenant Simpson. Twenty-seven of his crew, however, elected to
+remain and fight with him, when he should get another command,--among
+them a little Narragansett Indian called Antony Jeremiah.
+
+"Me like to see big gun shoot," said he. "Me like to walk on deck of
+enemy's big boat when you take it! Byme-by we take bigger ship than
+_Drake_ and kill heap more enemy! Ugh! Ugh!"
+
+At this John Paul laughed.
+
+"Antony Jeremiah," said he, "you shall witness one big fight if you
+stay with John Paul. You wait and see!"
+
+And what John Paul had said soon came to pass.
+
+"The French," writes the doughty warrior, "have little conception of
+an expedition such as I propose; to harry the coast and destroy the
+commerce of the enemy. Their idea is to leave all of that to
+privateers, of which I have already been offered a dozen commands.
+Some of the ships they fit out as privateers are really respectable
+frigates in size, and I have seen one, called the _Monsieur_, that
+mounts thirty-eight or forty guns. But I do not wish to engage in
+privateering. My object is not that of private gain, but to serve the
+public in a way that may reflect credit on our infant navy and give
+prestige to our country over the sea."
+
+Noble sentiments--nobly expressed!
+
+In spite of the gloomy outlook he at last secured a vessel from the
+King himself, called the _Duras_, which he re-christened "_Le Bon
+Homme Richard_"--"_The Good Richard_"--the name assumed by Dr.
+Benjamin Franklin when writing his famous "Almanack," except that he
+called him "Poor Richard." This was a well-merited compliment to the
+great and good man, who was then Commissioner from the United States
+to France, and a firm friend to the ardent John Paul. The vessel had
+forty guns, "and," writes the Minister of Marine, "as you may find
+too much difficulty in enlisting a sufficient number of Americans, the
+King permits you to levy French volunteers, until you obtain a full
+crew."
+
+John Paul hastened to get her ready for a cruise. "I mounted
+twenty-eight long twelve-pounders on the gun-deck," he says, "put
+eight of the long nines on the quarter-deck, and discarded the
+six-pounders of her old battery. This gave her a battery of forty-two
+guns, throwing two hundred and fifty-eight pounds of metal in a single
+broadside. She was the fair equivalent of a thirty-six gun frigate."
+
+From February to June she was worked over; refitted; resparred. On
+June 19th, 1779, the gallant John Paul Jones swung out into the
+English Channel; he, himself, in command of the _Good Richard_, which
+carried a crew of three hundred and seventy-five, not more than fifty
+of whom were Americans. Four other vessels were with him: the
+_Alliance_, a thirty-two gun frigate; the _Pallas_, a twenty-eight gun
+frigate; the _Vengeance_, a twelve gun brig; and the _Cerf_, a cutter.
+
+On the second day out the _Alliance_ fouled the _Richard_, causing so
+much damage to both, that the squadron was compelled to return to port
+for repairs, which--with other transactions--consumed six weeks. But
+the accident was a lucky one, for numerous American sailors, who were
+in English prisons, were shortly exchanged with English seamen in
+French dungeons; and thus Paul Jones was able to man the _Good
+Richard_ with one hundred and fourteen native Americans, who were
+anxious to have a crack at those who had captured them but a short
+time before.
+
+Finally, with refitted ships and reorganized crews, Paul Jones was
+ready to sail from the roadstead of Isle de Groaix, in the early part
+of August, 1779, bound upon his cruise around the British Islands.
+There were four ships in this squadron: the _Good Richard_; the
+_Alliance_, under Pierre Landais (a depraved and dishonest Frenchman);
+the _Pallas_, under Cottineau (an honest Frenchman); and the
+_Vengeance_, a sloop-of-war. The prevailing winds were light and
+baffling, so the squadron moved slowly.
+
+War had been declared between France and England, and thus the English
+Channel was thronged with privateers from both countries. The
+_Richard_ and a French privateer, in company, re-captured a large ship
+belonging to Holland, but bound from Barcelona to Dunkirk, France,
+which had been taken some days before by an English vessel off Cape
+Ortegal and ordered into Falmouth, England. England and Holland were
+still at peace, at this time, but the English claimed the right to
+intercept and send into their own port for examination, all neutral
+vessels bound to French ports, as England and France were then at war.
+Commodore Jones took the English prize-crew out of the Dutch ship, as
+prisoners of war, and then ordered the ship into l'Orient in charge of
+her own crew, but under the command of one of his midshipmen, until
+she could come under the protection of a French port.
+
+"Things are going well with us!" cried Captain Jones, rubbing his
+hands gleefully.
+
+He soon felt much happier. For, on the morning of August 23rd, when in
+the vicinity of Cape Clear, the _Richard_ sent three boats, and
+afterwards a fourth, to take a brig that was becalmed in the northwest
+quarter--just out of gun-shot. It proved to be the _Fortune_, of
+Bristol, bound from Newfoundland for her home-port with whale-oil,
+salt fish, and barrel staves. Manned by a prize-crew of two warrant
+officers and six men, she was sent to Nantes.
+
+All were happy. All were looking forward to a good fight. It was to
+come to them.
+
+The little fleet of war-dogs sailed northward, and, on September 1st,
+about ten o'clock in the morning, the northwest promontory of Scotland
+was sighted. At the same instant, two large ships bore in sight on the
+same quarter, and another vessel appeared to windward.
+
+"Bear up! Bear up!" cried Jones.
+
+The _Richard_ held over toward the first two ships until he saw that
+it was the _Alliance_ and a prize she had taken about daylight,--a
+vessel bound for Jamaica, from London.
+
+"Now chase the other fellow!" he cried, turning the wheel with his own
+hands, and soon the _Good Richard_ was bounding over the waves in hard
+pursuit of the second sail. Slowly but surely she was overhauled.
+Heavily armed, she did not surrender until after the exchange of
+several shots, which the _Richard_ pumped into her, after running up
+close enough to show her broadside.
+
+A boat soon carried a number of seamen to take possession of her, and
+she proved to be the British privateer, the _Union_, mounting
+twenty-two six-pounders, and bound northward from London to Quebec, in
+Canada, laden with a cargo of naval and military stores for the
+British troops and flotillas on the Lakes. The _Union_ also carried a
+valuable mail, including dispatches for Sir William Howe, in New York,
+and Sir Guy Carleton, in Canada. "These were lost," writes John Paul
+to good Doctor Franklin, at Paris, for the _Alliance_ imprudently
+showed American colors, though English colors were still flying on the
+_Bon Homme Richard_; "the enemy thereby being induced to throw his
+papers of importance overboard before we could take possession of
+him." The prizes were manned from the _Alliance_ and sent (by Landais)
+into the seaport of Bergen, in Norway.
+
+The squadron now beat down the east coast of Scotland, and, after
+capturing five or six small prizes, rounded-to off the Firth of Forth.
+
+"I intend to attack the port of Leith!" cried Jones, "as I understand
+that it is defended only by a small guard-ship of twenty-two guns, and
+an old fortification (old Leith Fort) garrisoned by a detachment of
+Militia."
+
+The wind was adverse, blowing off shore, with frequent heavy squalls,
+but about noon of the 17th of September, the _Richard_ and the
+_Pallas_ beat up within gun-shot of Leith Fort and were lowering away
+their tenders in order to land, when a heavy Northwest gale sprang up,
+compelling them to hoist their boats, and put to sea. The gale lasted
+about twenty-four hours, but, on the morning of the 19th, the wind
+took another turn, the sea grew calm, and Jones proposed to renew the
+attack upon Leith. The Commander of the _Pallas_ made strong objection
+to this. "I do not believe that we should stay here," cried he. "If we
+persist in the attempt to remain on this station three days longer, we
+shall have a squadron of heavy frigates, if not a ship of line, to
+deal with. Convinced of this, I offer it as my judgment that we had
+better work along the shore to-day and to-morrow, as far as Spurn
+Head, and then, if we do not fall in with the Baltic merchant fleet,
+stand off the coast and make the best of our way to Dunkirk."
+
+Commodore Jones spent a few moments in reflection. "You are probably
+right, Cottineau," said he. "I only wish that another man like you
+were in command of the _Alliance_. However, we cannot help what is and
+must make the best of it. Go aboard your ship and make sail to the
+south-southwest. Speak the _Vengeance_ as you run down, and tell
+Ricot--her commander--to rendezvous off Spurn Head. I will bring up
+the rear with this ship. We may fall in with the Baltic fleet between
+here and Scarboro', which is usually their first English port of
+destination at this time of the year. Should you happen to sight the
+_Alliance_, inform Captain Landais of our destination, but do not
+communicate it to him as an order, because that would be likely to
+expose you only to insult."
+
+The two ships turned South, and the next three days were without
+events of importance. At length they neared the harbor of Scarboro',
+and, as they hovered about twelve miles off the land, they saw some
+vessels making for the shore, and protecting a fleet of merchantmen.
+
+"They're a heavy man-of-war--either a fifty-gun frigate, or a
+fifty-four--with a large ship-of-war in company," cried one of his
+Lieutenants, who had been watching them through a glass. "The Captain
+of the larger one has cleverly manoeuvered to protect his merchant
+ship."
+
+Commodore Jones seemed to be much pleased.
+
+"At last we'll have a little fight," cried he. "Bear hard for the
+land, and get between the larger vessel and the shore!"
+
+Captain Cottineau was signalled to and requested to go after the
+sloop-of-war. About sundown the _Richard_ succeeded in weathering the
+large frigate and manoeuvered between her and the land.
+
+The ships neared each other very gradually, for the breeze was slight.
+They were on opposite tacks and Commodore Jones readily made out the
+force and rate of his antagonist. By the light of the dying day--for
+it was about seven P. M.--he saw that she was a new forty-four; a
+perfect beauty. It was the _Serapis_--Captain Richard Pearson
+commanding--but six months off the stocks and on her first cruise as a
+convoy to the Baltic fleet of merchantmen: consisting of about forty
+vessels laden with timber and other naval stores for the use of the
+British dockyards. Jones had hoped to have an opportunity to attack
+this flotilla, but his plans had been frustrated by the vigilance and
+skill of the commander of the men-of-war in convoy.
+
+Even now Landais might have got among the merchantmen in the
+fast-sailing _Alliance_, while Jones and Cottineau occupied the
+attention of the two men-of-war; but the French officer did not have
+sufficient courage to tackle them, and kept well beyond striking
+distance.
+
+The Captain of the _Serapis_ stood upon the deck, intently gazing at
+the on-coming vessel.
+
+"Gad Zooks!" he uttered. "From the size of her spars and her height
+out of water I take her to be a French fifty of the time of the last
+war. It's too dark for me to see whether she has any lower ports or
+not." He raised his night glasses to his eyes, and, in the light of
+the full moon which was now flooding the sea with a silvery haze, saw
+that his opponent was intent upon a fight.
+
+"It is probably Paul Jones," said he, lowering the glasses. "If
+so--there's tight work ahead. What ship is that?" he cried out in loud
+tones.
+
+No answer came from the dark hull of the _Good Richard_, but, as she
+swung nearer upon the rolling waves, suddenly a flash, a roar, and a
+sheet of flame belched from her side. The battle was on!
+
+It was a struggle which has been talked of for years. It was a battle
+about which the world never seems to tire of reading. It was _the_
+battle which has made the name of John Paul Jones nautically immortal.
+
+The two warriors of the deep were on the same tack, headed northwest,
+driven by a slight wind which veered to the westward. The sea was
+smooth, the sky was clear, the full moon was rising--the conditions
+for a night struggle were ideal.
+
+_Crash! Crash! Crash!_
+
+Broadside after broadside rolled and shrieked from ship to ship, as
+the air was filled with flying bits of iron.
+
+_Crash! Crash! Crash!_
+
+Travelling very slowly, for the wind was little more than sufficient
+to give them steering-way in the tide, the two antagonists drifted
+along for twenty minutes, at cable length (600 to 900 feet--about the
+distance of the 220 yard dash). But suddenly--_Boom!_ an explosion
+sounded in the gun-room of the _Good Richard_. Two of her
+eighteen-pounders had blown up back of the trunnions; many of the crew
+lay dead and dying, the after part of the main gun-deck was shattered
+like a reed: Senior Midshipman and Acting Lieutenant John Mayrant--who
+had command of this battery--was severely wounded in the head by a
+fragment of one of the exploded shells, and was scorched by the blast
+of flame.
+
+"Abandon your guns!" shouted First Lieutenant Dale, "and report with
+your remaining men to the main-deck battery!"
+
+"All right!" answered Mayrant, as he bound a white kerchief around
+his bleeding head. "I'll be with you just as soon as I give them one
+more shot."
+
+This he endeavored to do, but not a gun could be touched off. "The old
+sixteen-pounders that formed the battery of the lower gun-deck, did no
+service whatever, except firing eight shots in all," writes John Paul
+Jones. "Two out of three of them burst at the first fire, killing
+almost all the men who were stationed to manage them."
+
+The gunnery of the _Good Richard_ was excellent. Though her battery
+was one-third lighter than that of the _Serapis_; though her gun-crews
+were composed--to a great extent--of French volunteers, who had never
+been at sea before--in quickness and rapidity of fire, the shells from
+the American fell just as accurately as did those from the Britisher;
+pointed and gauged by regular, trained English men-of-war seamen. The
+roar of belching cannon was deafening. The superior weight and energy
+of the British shot began to tell decisively against the sputtering
+twelve-pounders of the _Richard_, in spite of the fact that they were
+being served with quickness and precision. As the two battling
+sea-monsters drifted slowly along, a pall of sulphurous smoke hung
+over their black hulls, like a sheet of escaping steam. They were
+drawing nearer and nearer to each other.
+
+It was now about a quarter to eight. Wounded and dying littered the
+decks of both Britisher and American, but the fight was to the death.
+
+"Luff! Luff!" cried Captain Pearson, as the _Richard_ began to forge
+near him. "Luff! Luff! and let fly with all guns at the water-line.
+Sink the Yankee Pirate!"
+
+But Paul Jones was intent upon grappling with his adversary. Quickly
+jerking the tiller to one side, he shoved the _Richard_ into the wind
+and endeavored to run her--bows on--into the side of his opponent. The
+_Serapis_ paid off, her stern swung to, and, before she could gather
+way, the _Richard_'s jib-boom shot over her larboard quarter and into
+the mizzen rigging.
+
+Jones was delighted.
+
+"Throw out the grappling hooks!" cried he, in shrill tones. "Hold
+tight to the Britisher and be prepared to board!"
+
+In an instant, many clawing irons spun out into the mizzen stays of
+the _Serapis_; but, though they caught, the lines holding them soon
+parted. The _Serapis_ fell off and the _Richard_ lurched ahead.
+Neither had been able to bring her broadsides to bear.
+
+"We can't beat her by broadsiding," cried Jones. "We've _got_ to
+board!"
+
+_Crash! Crash! Crash!_
+
+Again the cannon made the splinters fly. Again the two game-cocks spat
+at each other like angry cats, but, the fire from the _Richard_ was
+far weaker than before.
+
+Commodore Jones walked hastily to the gun-deck.
+
+"Dick," said he to Lieutenant Dale, "this fellow's metal is too heavy
+for us at this business. He is hammering us all to pieces. We must
+close with him! We must get hold of him! Be prepared at any moment to
+abandon this place and bring what men you have left on the
+spar-deck--and give them the small arms for boarding when you come
+up."
+
+Lieutenant Dale saluted.
+
+"All right!" cried he. "I'll be with you in a jiffy, Commodore."
+
+As Jones walked hastily to the main deck--the Lieutenant ran to the
+store-room and dealt out cutlasses, pistols and pikes, to the eager
+men. The deck was red with blood.
+
+The worst carnage of all was at "number two" gun of the forward,
+starboard division. From the first broadside until the quarter-deck
+was abandoned, nineteen different men were on this gun, and, at this
+time, only one of the original crew remained. It was the little
+Indian, Antony Jeremiah; or, as his mates called him, "Red Cherry."
+
+"Let me join you," he cried, as he saw Mayrant's boarding party.
+Seizing a cutlass and dirk, he stood beside the cluster of men, eager
+and keen to have a chance at the enemy. A soul of fire was that of the
+little savage--and now he had a splendid opportunity to indulge in the
+natural blood-thirst of his race, for an Indian loves a good fight,
+particularly when he is upon the winning side.
+
+The vessels swung on slowly--the fire from the _Serapis_ still strong
+and accurate; the sputtering volleys from the _Richard_ growing weaker
+and weaker. Only three of the nine-pounders on the starboard
+quarter-deck were serviceable; the entire gun-deck battery was silent
+and abandoned.
+
+"We have him," cheerfully cried Captain Pearson to one of his aides.
+"But, hello"--he continued, "what sail is that?"
+
+As he spoke the _Alliance_ came bounding across the waves, headed for
+the two combatants, and looking as if she were to speedily close the
+struggle.
+
+"The fight is at an end," said Jones, jubilantly.
+
+Imagine his astonishment, chagrin, and mortification! Instead of
+pounding the English vessel, the French ally discharged a broadside
+full into the stern of the _Richard_, ran off to the northward, close
+hauled, and soon was beyond gun-shot.
+
+"Coward!" shouted John Paul, shaking his fist at the retreating ally.
+"I'll get even with you for this if it takes me twenty years!"
+
+No wonder he was angered, for, with his main battery completely
+silenced, his ship beginning to sink, nearly half his crew disabled,
+his wheel shot away, and his consort firing into him, there remained
+but one chance of victory for John Paul Jones: to foul the enemy and
+board her.
+
+Luckily a spare tiller had been fitted to the rudder stem of the
+_Richard_ below the main tiller--before leaving port--because of the
+fear that the wheel would be disabled. The foresight of the Commodore
+had effected this; and now--by means of this extra steering-gear--the
+battered warrior-ship was enabled to make one, last, desperate lunge
+for victory. It was touch and go with John Paul Jones.
+
+"I could distinctly hear his voice amid the crashing of musketry,"
+says a seaman. "He was cheering on the French marines in their own
+tongue, uttering such imprecations upon the enemy as I have never
+before or since heard in French, or any other language. He exhorted
+them to take good aim, pointed out the object of their fire, and
+frequently took their loaded muskets from their hands in order to
+shoot them himself. In fact, towards the very last, he had about him a
+group of half a dozen marines who did nothing but load their firelocks
+and hand them to the Commodore; who fired them from his own shoulder,
+standing on the quarter-deck rail by the main topmast backstay."
+
+Luck now came to the disabled _Richard_. A fortunate puff of wind
+struck and filled her sails, shooting her alongside of the growling
+_Serapis_, and to windward. The canvas of the Britisher flapped
+uselessly against her spars. She was blanketed and lost steering-way.
+In a moment the jib-boom of the English vessel ran over the poop-deck
+of the American ship. It was seized, grappled by a turn of small
+hawsers, and made fast to the mizzen-mast.
+
+"She's ours!" cried John Paul Jones. "Seize that anchor and splice it
+down hard!"
+
+As he spoke, the fluke of the starboard anchor of the _Serapis_ hooked
+in the mizzen chains. It was lashed fast, and the _Richard_ had been
+saved.
+
+_Rattle! Rattle! Crash!_ sounded the muskets of the French marines.
+The English tried to cut their anchor chains and get free, but all who
+attempted to sever these hawsers were struck dead by the accurate
+balls from the marksmen on the poop-deck and round-house of the
+_Richard_.
+
+"I demand your surrender!" shouted Pearson.
+
+[Illustration: From an old print.
+    "THEY SWARMED INTO THE FORECASTLE AMIDST FIERCE CHEERS."]
+
+"Surrender?" cried John Paul Jones. "Why, I am just beginning to
+fight!"
+
+Then he turned to John Mayrant, who stood ready to rush across the
+hammock-nettings into the waist of the enemy's ship. Twenty-seven
+sailors were nearby, each with a cutlass and two ship's pistols.
+
+"Board 'em!" he cried.
+
+Over the rail went the seamen--monkey-wise--over the rail, John
+Mayrant leading with a dirk in his teeth, like a Bermuda pirate. They
+swarmed into the forecastle amidst fierce cheers, the rattle of
+musketry, and the hiss of flames. Just at the moment that John
+Mayrant's feet struck the enemy's deck, a sailor thrust a
+boarding-pike through the fleshy part of his right thigh. _Crack!_ a
+pistol spat at him, and he fell prostrate.
+
+"Remember Portsea jail! Remember Portsea jail!" cried the dauntless
+raider, rushing down into the forecastle with his wild, yelping
+sailors. Pearson stood there; crest-fallen--abashed.
+
+Seizing the ensign-halyards of the _Serapis_, as the raging torrent of
+seamen rolled towards him, the brave English sea-captain hauled the
+flag of his ship to the deck.
+
+The _Richard_ had won!
+
+"He has struck; stop firing! Come on board and take possession!"
+yelled Mayrant, running to the rail.
+
+Lieutenant Dale heard him, and, swinging himself on the side of the
+_Serapis_, made his way to the quarter-deck, where Captain Pearson was
+standing. "I have the honor, sir, to be the first Lieutenant of the
+vessel alongside," said he saluting. "It is the American Continental
+ship _Bon Homme Richard_, under command of Commodore Paul Jones. What
+vessel is this?"
+
+"His Britannic Majesty's late man-of-war the _Serapis_, sir," was the
+sad response, "and I am Captain Richard Pearson."
+
+"Pardon me, sir," said the American officer, "in the haste of the
+moment I forgot to inform you that my name is Richard Dale and I must
+request you to pass on board the vessel alongside."
+
+Pearson nodded dejectedly.
+
+As he did so, the first Lieutenant of the _Serapis_ came up from
+below, and, looking at Captain Pearson, asked,
+
+"Has the enemy struck, sir?"
+
+"No, sir! _I_ have struck!" was the sad reply.
+
+"Then, I will go below and order our men to cease firing," continued
+the English Lieutenant.
+
+But Lieutenant Dale interrupted.
+
+"Pardon me, sir," said he, "I will attend to that; and, as for
+yourself, please accompany Captain Pearson on board the ship
+alongside."
+
+With reluctant steps the two officers clambered aboard the battered
+_Good Richard_, where Commodore Jones received them with much
+courtesy.
+
+Bowing low, Captain Pearson offered him his sword. His first
+Lieutenant did likewise.
+
+"Captain Pearson," said the victorious John Paul, "you have fought
+heroically. You have worn this weapon to your own credit and to the
+honor of your service. I hope that your sovereign will suitably
+reward you."
+
+The British commander was the image of chagrin and despair. He bowed
+again, and then walked slowly into the cabin, followed by his
+crest-fallen Lieutenant.
+
+It was nearly midnight. The full moon above--in a cloudless sky--made
+it almost as light as day. Seven feet of water were in the hold of the
+_Richard_; she had sunk so much that many shot-holes were below the
+water-line and could not be plugged. Nearly sixty of her crew lay dead
+upon her decks; more than a hundred and twenty were desperately
+wounded. Every twelve-pounder of the starboard broadside was either
+dismounted, or disabled. The starboard side, which had been opposite
+the _Serapis_'s eighteen-pounders, was driven so far in, that, but for
+a few frames and stanchions which remained, the whole gun-deck would
+have fallen through. She was afire, and the flames licked upward with
+an eager hiss.
+
+"Take the wounded aboard the _Serapis_!" commanded Captain Jones. "We
+must desert our good ship!"
+
+In an hour's time all were upon the deck of the vanquished Britisher.
+No one was left on the _Richard_ but the dead. The torn and tattered
+flag was still flying from the gaff, and, as the battered sea-warrior
+gradually settled in the long swell, the unconquered ensign fluttered
+defiantly in the slight breeze. At length the _Bon Homme Richard_
+plunged downward by the head; her taffrail rose momentarily on high,
+and, with a hoarse roar of eddying bubbles and sucking air, the
+conqueror disappeared from view. To her immortal dead was bequeathed
+the flag which they had so desperately defended.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+So ended the great battle. Thus Paul Jones had made his name immortal.
+And by it he was to be known for all time.
+
+This was not the end of his career, by any means. He never again
+fought for the infant Republic of the United States. But he became an
+Admiral in the Russian Navy: battled valorously for the great Empress
+Catherine against the Turks, and died in Paris, July 18th, 1792.
+
+Buried at the French capital, his body was disinterred in the year
+1905, and brought to the United States, to be entombed with military
+honors, at Annapolis, Maryland.
+
+Paul Jones loved brave men. The braver they were the more he loved
+them. When he went ashore and happened to meet his old sailors--every
+one of whom he knew and called by his first name--they seldom failed
+to strip his pockets of the last shilling. He was generous to a fault
+and faithful to his friends. His time, his purse, his influence were
+always at the call of those who had served under him. A typical
+sea-dog: a brave fighter,--
+
+Then, why not give three times three for John Paul Jones?
+
+Are you ready?
+
+
+
+
+THE ESCAPE
+
+
+    'Tis of a gallant, Yankee ship that flew the Stripes and Stars,
+    And the whistling wind from the west-nor'-west blew through her
+        pitch-pine spars:
+    With her starboard tacks aboard, my Boys, she hung upon the gale;
+    On the Autumn night, that we passed the light, on the old Head of
+        Kinsale.
+
+    It was a clear and cloudless eve, and the wind blew steady and
+        strong,
+    As gayly, o'er the sparkling deep, our good ship bowled along;
+    With the foaming seas beneath her bow, the fiery waves she spread,
+    And, bending low her bosom of snow, she buried her lee cat-head.
+
+    There was no talk of short'ning sail, by him who walked the poop,
+    And, under the press of her pounding jib, the boom bent like a hoop!
+    And the groaning, moaning water-ways, told the strain that held the
+        tack,
+    But, he only laughed, as he glanced aloft, at the white and silvery
+        track.
+
+    The mid-tide met in the Channel waves that flow from shore to shore,
+    And the mist hung heavy upon the land, from Featherstone to Dunmore,
+    And that sterling light in Tusker Rock, where the old bell tolls
+        each hour,
+    And the beacon light, that shone so bright, was quenched on Waterford
+        tower.
+
+    What looms upon our starboard bow? What hangs upon the breeze?
+    'Tis time that our good ship hauled her wind, abreast the old
+        Saltees,
+    For, by her pond'rous press of sail, and by her consorts four,
+    We saw that our morning visitor, was a British Man-of-War.
+
+    Up spoke our noble Captain--then--as a shot ahead of us passed,--
+    "Haul snug your flowing courses! Lay your topsail to the mast!"
+    Those Englishmen gave three loud cheers, from the deck of their
+        covered ark,
+    And, we answered back by a solid broad-side, from the side of our
+        patriot barque.
+
+    "_Out booms! Out booms!_" our skipper cried, "_Out booms! and give
+        her sheet!_"
+    And the swiftest keel that e'er was launched, shot ahead of the
+        British fleet,
+    'Midst a thundering shower of shot,--and with stern-sails hoisting
+        away,
+    Down the North Race _Paul Jones_ did steer, just at the break of day.
+
+                    --_Old Ballad._
+
+
+
+
+CAPTAIN SILAS TALBOT
+
+STAUNCH PRIVATEERSMAN OF NEW ENGLAND
+
+(1751-1813)
+
+
+    "If you want ter learn how ter fight, why jest
+    fight."--_Dock-end Philosophy._
+
+
+CAPTAIN SILAS TALBOT
+
+STAUNCH PRIVATEERSMAN OF NEW ENGLAND
+
+(1751-1813)
+
+    "Talk about your clipper ships, chipper ships, ripper ships,
+    Talk about your barquentines, with all their spars so fancy,
+    I'll just take a sloop-o'-war with Talbot, with Talbot,
+    An' whip 'em all into 'er chip, an' just to suit my fancy.
+
+    "So, heave away for Talbot, for Talbot, for Talbot,
+    So, heave away for Talbot, an' let th' Capting steer,
+    For, he's the boy to smack them, to crack them, to whack them,
+    For he's th' boy to ship with, if you want to privateer."
+
+                    --_Ballads of Rhode Island._--1782.
+
+
+A trading vessel, laden with wheat, from Cardigan in Wales, was lying
+to in the English Channel. Nearby rolled a long-bodied American
+Privateer, while a boat neared the trader, in the stern of which sat a
+staunch, weather-beaten officer in a faded pea-jacket. It was the year
+1813 and war was on between England and the United States.
+
+When the blustering captain entered the cabin to survey his prize, he
+spied a small box with a hole in the top, on which was inscribed the
+words, "Missionary Box." He drew back, astonished.
+
+"Pray, my bold seaman," said he, turning to the Welsh captain, "what
+is this?"
+
+"Oh," replied the honest, old sailor, heaving a sigh, "'tis all over
+now."
+
+"What?" asked the American privateersman.
+
+"Why, the truth is," said the Welshman, "that I and my poor fellows
+have been accustomed, every Monday morning, to drop a penny each into
+that box for the purpose of sending out missionaries to preach the
+Gospel to the heathen; but it's all over now."
+
+The American seemed to be much abashed.
+
+"Indeed," said he, "that is very good of you." And, pausing a few
+moments, he looked abstractedly into the air, humming a tune beneath
+his breath.
+
+"Captain," said he, at length, "I'll not hurt a hair of your head, nor
+touch your vessel."
+
+So saying, he turned on his heel, took to his boat, and left the
+Welshman to pursue its even course. And--as the privateer filled away
+to starboard--a voice came from the deck of the helpless merchantman,
+
+"God bless Captain Silas Talbot and his crew!"
+
+But we do not know what the owners of the privateer said to the humane
+skipper about this little affair when he returned to New York. They
+might have uttered hard words about a Welshman who scored upon him by
+means of a pious fraud. At any rate Silas Talbot had done a good deed.
+
+This valorous privateer was born at Dighton, Massachusetts, on the
+Sakonet River about the year 1752; beginning his career at sea as a
+cabin-boy. At twenty-four he was a captain in the United States army
+and fought in the Revolutionary war, for a time, on land. But--by
+reason of his nautical training--he was placed in command of a
+fireship at New York, and was soon promoted to be Major--but still
+with duties upon the water and not the shore. While here, a soldier
+came to him, one day, with his eyes alight in excitement.
+
+"Major," said he, "there's a chance for a splendid little enterprise.
+Just off the coast of Rhode Island, near Newport, lies a British
+vessel, moored to a kedge. She mounts fifteen guns and around her is
+stretched a stout netting to keep off a party of boarders. But we can
+cut it and get through, I'll warrant. And the game is worth the
+candle."
+
+Young Talbot was delighted at the thought of a little expedition.
+
+"I'll tell you how we'll cut through," said he. "We'll fix a small
+anchor at the bowsprit of our sloop. Then, we'll ram her into the
+netting at night, and--if our vessel can punch hard enough--we'll have
+forty Americans upon the deck before you can say 'Jack Robinson.'"
+
+The soldier laughed.
+
+"Major Talbot," said he, "you are a true fighting man. I'll have a
+crew for you within twenty-four hours and we'll take the good sloop
+_Jasamine_, lying off of Hell Gate. Ahoy for the capture of the
+Englishman!"
+
+In two days' time, all was ready for the expedition. The sloop
+_Jasamine_ slowly drifted into the harbor of New York, an anchor
+spliced to her bowsprit, a crew of sturdy adventurers aboard; and,
+filling away in a stout sou'wester, rolled down the coast in the
+direction of Rhode Island. Reaching the vicinity of Newport, she lay
+to behind a sheltering peninsula, waiting for the night to come, so
+that she could drop down upon the Englishman under the cloak of
+darkness.
+
+Blackness settled upon the still and waveless water. With muffled oars
+the sloop now glided towards the dark hull of the British gun-boat;
+her men armed to the teeth, with fuses alight, and ready to touch off
+the cannon at the slightest sign of discovery. All was still upon the
+towering deck of the war-vessel and the little lights twinkled at her
+bow.
+
+But what was that?
+
+Suddenly a voice came through the darkness.
+
+"Who goes there?"
+
+No answer came but the dip of the oars in unison.
+
+"Who goes there? Answer, or I fire!"
+
+Again the slow beat of the oars and nothing more.
+
+_Crash!_
+
+A musket spoke from the jutting bow in front of the sloop and a bullet
+struck in the foremast of the staunch attacker, with a resounding
+z-i-n-n-g!
+
+"We're discovered," whispered Talbot. "Pull for your lives, men, and
+punch her like a battering-ram. When we've cut through the netting,
+let every fellow dash upon her decks, and fight for every inch you
+can."
+
+As he ceased speaking, the bow of the sloop struck the roping
+stretched around the man-o'-warsman, and a ripping and tearing was
+plainly heard above the crash of small arms, the shouts of men, and
+the rumble of hawsers. Two cannon spoke from the side of the
+Englishman, and, as their roar echoed across the still ocean, the
+guns of the _Jasamine_ belched forth their answer.
+
+[Illustration: "TALBOT, HIMSELF, AT THE HEAD OF HIS ENTIRE CREW, CAME
+LEAPING ACROSS THE SIDE."]
+
+The anchor attached to the bowsprit had done what was desired. It tore
+a great hole in the stout netting, ripped open a breach sufficiently
+wide for entrance to the deck, and, as the cannon grumbled and spat at
+the sloop,--the bowsprit was black with jack-tars scrambling for an
+opportunity to board the Britisher.
+
+"Now, men," shouted Major Talbot, above the din. "Swing our craft
+sideways! Let go the port guns, and then let every mother's son rush
+the foe! And your cry must be, 'Death and no quarter!'"
+
+As he ceased, the good _Jasamine_ was forced sideways into the
+man-o'-warsman, and, propelled by the current, drifted against her
+with tremendous force, crushing the remaining nets as she did so. A
+few of the Americans were already on the deck in a terrific struggle
+with the half-sleepy English seamen, but--in a moment--Talbot,
+himself, at the head of his entire crew, came leaping across the side.
+
+Now was a scene of carnage. The cutlasses of both Yankee tar and
+British, were doing awful execution, and pistols were cracking like
+hail upon the roof. Back, back, went the English before the vigorous
+assault of the stormers, and, as the deck was now piled with the dead
+and dying, the commander of the man-o'-warsman cried out,
+
+"I surrender! Cease, you Yankee sea-dogs. You're too smart for me!"
+
+So saying, he held up a handkerchief tied to his cutlass, and the
+battle ceased.
+
+The story of the fight of Silas Talbot's was now on every lip, and
+all praised the daring and courage of this valorous Major, who was as
+bold as a lion, and as courageous as any seaman who sailed upon the
+sea.
+
+Promotion came rapidly to the soldier-sailor. In 1779 he became a
+colonel and was placed in command of the _Argo_, a sloop of about one
+hundred tons, armed with twelve six-pounders, and carrying but sixty
+men. 'Tis said that she looked like a "clumsy Albany trader," with one
+great, rakish mast, an immense mainsail, and a lean boom. Her tiller
+was very lengthy, she had high bulwarks and a wide stern--but, in
+spite of her raw appearance, she could sail fast and could show a
+clean pair of heels to most vessels of twice her size.
+
+Shortly after taking charge of this privateer, word was brought that
+Captain Hazard of the privateer _King George_ was off the coast of
+Rhode Island.
+
+"That's what I want," cried Captain Talbot, slapping his knee. "This
+fellow Hazard is an American. He was born in Rhode Island, and,
+instead of joining in our righteous cause against the Mother Country,
+he has elected to fight against us. For the base purpose of plundering
+his old neighbors and friends, he has fitted out the _King George_ and
+has already done great damage on the coast. Let me but catch the old
+fox and I'll give him a taste of American lead. I'll put a stop to the
+depredations of this renegade."
+
+The _King George_ had fourteen guns and eighty men, but this did not
+worry staunch and nervy Silas Talbot. He started in pursuit of her, as
+soon as he learned of her whereabouts, and, before many days, sighted
+a sail just off the New York coast, which was hoped to be the vessel
+of the renegade.
+
+Mile after mile was passed. Hour by hour the _Argo_ ploughed after the
+silvery sails, until, late in the afternoon, the stranger hovered near
+a shallow harbor on the coast, and seemed to await the on-coming
+privateer with full confidence.
+
+The _Argo_ boomed along under a spanking sou'wester and, sailing near
+the stranger, to the keen eyes of Talbot came the welcome sight of
+_King George_ painted upon the stern of the rakish privateer.
+
+"All hands man the guns," cried he. "We'll sink th' rascally Hazard
+with all his crew, unless he strikes. She's got more men and guns, but
+what care we for that. Take hold, my Hearties, and we'll soon make her
+know her master."
+
+The _King George_ seemed to welcome the coming fight; she luffed; lay
+to; and her men could be seen standing ready at the polished cannon.
+Now was one of the strangest battles of American sea history.
+
+The _King George_ cruised along under a full spread of canvas, jibbed,
+came about upon the port quarter of the stranger, and ran up to within
+shooting distance, when a broadside was poured into the deck of the
+rolling _Argo_. She replied with her own fourteen guns, and, before
+they could be reloaded, the _King George_ struck her alongside; the
+American seaman swarmed across the rail; and--if we are to believe a
+historian of the period--"drove the crew of _King George_ from their
+quarters, taking possession of her, without a man on either side being
+killed." Hats off to the doughty Silas Talbot for this brave
+adventure! Did you ever hear of such a fight with no man ever being
+slaughtered?
+
+Again rang the fame of Silas Talbot, but he was not to rest long upon
+laurels won. The British privateer _Dragon_--of three hundred tons and
+eighty men--was hovering near Providence, Rhode Island, hungry and
+eager for unprotected merchantmen.
+
+"I'll have to strike her," said Captain Talbot.
+
+It was a beautiful day in June. As the _Dragon_ drowsed along
+listlessly a dozen miles off the shore, her topsails barely filling in
+the gentle southerly breeze, the watch suddenly stirred, and sang out
+in no gentle tones,
+
+"Sail ho, off the starboard! Looks like Captain Talbot of the _Argo_!"
+
+The captain came bounding from his cabin, glass in hand.
+
+"Sure enough," said he, scanning the white sails upon the horizon.
+"It's Talbot and we're in for a tight affair. All hands prepare for
+action!"
+
+There was noise and confusion upon the deck of the privateer as the
+guns were sponged, charges were rammed home, and all prepared for
+battle. Meanwhile, the stranger came nearer, and rounding to within
+striking distance, crashed a broadside into the slumbering _Dragon_,
+who had not yet shown her fangs.
+
+_Crackle! Crackle! Boom!_
+
+The small arms from the Britisher began to spit at the advancing
+privateer, and seven of her fourteen guns rang out a welcome to the
+sailors of Rhode Island. The solid shot ploughed through the rigging,
+cutting ropes and spars with knife-like precision.
+
+"Round her to on the port quarter!" shouted Captain Talbot, "and get
+near enough for boarding!"
+
+But, as the _Argo_ swung near her antagonist, the _Dragon_ dropped
+away--keeping just at pistol-shot distance.
+
+"Run her down!" yelled the stout Rhode Islander, as he saw this
+manoeuvre of his wily foe. Then he uttered an exclamation of disgust,
+for, as he spoke, a bullet struck his speaking trumpet; knocking it to
+the deck, and piercing it with a jagged hole.
+
+"Never mind!" cried he, little disconcerted at the mishap. "Give it to
+her, boys!"
+
+Then he again uttered an exclamation, for a bounding cannon
+ball--ricochetting from the deck--took off the end of his
+coat-tail.[1]
+
+    [1] A true incident vouched for by two historians.
+
+"I'll settle with you for that," yelled the old sea-dog, leaping to a
+cannon, and, pointing it himself, he touched the fuse to the vent. A
+puff of smoke, a roar, and a ball ploughed into the mainmast of the
+rocking _Dragon_.
+
+Talbot smiled with good humor.
+
+"Play for that, my brave fellows," he called out, above the din of
+battle. "Once get the mainmast overside, and we can board her."
+
+With a cheer, his sailors redoubled their efforts to sink the
+_Dragon_, and solid shot fairly rained into her hull, as the two
+antagonists bobbed around the rolling ocean in this death grapple.
+Thus they sparred and clashed for four and a half hours, when, with a
+great splitting of sails and wreck of rigging, the mainmast of the
+_Dragon_ trembled, wavered, and fell to leeward with a sickening thud.
+
+"She's ours!" yelled Captain Talbot, through his dented speaking
+trumpet.
+
+Sure enough, the _Dragon_ had had enough. Her wings had been clipped,
+and, in a moment more, a white flag flew from her rigging.
+
+"The _Argo_ is sinking! The _Argo_ is sinking!" came a cry, at this
+moment.
+
+"Inspect the sides of our sloop," cried Talbot.
+
+This was done, immediately, and it was found that there were numerous
+shot-holes between wind and water, which were speedily plugged up.
+Then, bearing down upon the crippled _Dragon_, she was boarded; a
+prize-crew was put aboard; and the _Argo_ steered for home, her men
+singing,
+
+    "Talk about your gay, old cocks,
+        Yankee, Doodle, Dandy,
+    'Si' Talbot he can heave the blocks,
+        And stick like pepp'mint candy.
+
+        "Yankee--Doodle--Shoot and kill,
+        Yankee--Doodle--Dandy,
+        Yankee--Doodle--Back an' fill,
+        Yankee--Doodle--Dandy."
+
+Silas Talbot, in fact, had done extremely well, but, not content with
+his laurels already won, he soon put out again upon the _Argo_, in
+company with another privateer from Providence, Rhode Island, called
+the _Saratoga_; which sailed under a Captain Munro. They were not off
+the coast more than two days when they came across the _Dublin_; a
+smart, English privateer-cutter of fourteen guns, coming out of Sandy
+Hook. Instead of running away, she ploughed onward, and cleared for
+action.
+
+The _Argo_ and the _Saratoga_ ran in upon the windward quarter and
+banged away with audacity. The fight lasted for an hour. Then--as the
+_Argo_ tacked in closer in order to grapple and board--the _Saratoga_
+was headed for the privateer. But--instead of coming in--she began to
+run off in the wind.
+
+"Hard a-weather! Hard up there with the helm!" cried Captain Munro.
+
+"It is hard up!" cried the steersman.
+
+"You lie, you blackguard!" cried Munro. "She goes away lasking! Hard
+a-weather I say again!"
+
+"It is hard a-weather, I say again, captain," cried the fellow at the
+tiller.
+
+"Captain Talbot thinks that I am running away when I want to join
+him," cried Munro. "What the deuce is the matter anyway?"
+
+"Why, I can tell you," cried a young Lieutenant. "You've got an iron
+tiller in place of the wooden one, and she's loose in the rudder head,
+so your boat won't steer correctly."
+
+"Egad, you're right," said Munro, as he examined the top of the
+tiller. "Now, jam her over and we'll catch this _Dublin_ of old
+Ireland, or else I'm no sailor. We'll give her a broadside, too, when
+we come up."
+
+The _Argo_, meanwhile, was hammering the Englishman in good fashion,
+and, as the _Saratoga_ pumped a broadside into her--raking her from
+bow to stern--the _Dublin_ struck her colors.
+
+"Two to one, is too much odds," cried the English captain, as a boat
+neared the side of his vessel. "I could have licked either of you,
+alone."
+
+And, at this, both of the American privateersmen chuckled.
+
+Old "Si" Talbot was soon in another fight. Three days later he chased
+another sail, and coming up with her, found his antagonist to be the
+_Betsy_: an English privateer of twelve guns and fifty-eight men,
+commanded by an honest Scotchman.
+
+The _Argo_ ranged up alongside and Talbot hailed the stranger. After a
+bit of talk he hoisted the Stars and Stripes, crying,
+
+"You must haul down those British colors, my friend!"
+
+To which the Scot replied:
+
+"Notwithstanding I find you an enemy, as I suspected, yet, sir, I
+believe that I shall let them hang a little longer, with your
+permission. So fire away, Flanagan!"
+
+"And that I'll do," yelled Talbot. "Flanagan will be O'Toole and
+O'Grady before the morning's over. For I'll beat you like an Irish
+constable from Cork."
+
+So it turned out. Before an hour was past, the _Betsy_ had struck, the
+captain was killed, and all of his officers were wounded.
+
+"Old Si"--you see--had had good luck. So well, indeed, had he fought,
+that in 1780 he was put in command of a good-sized vessel, the
+_General Washington_. In her he cruised about Sandy Hook in search of
+spoil.
+
+One hazy day in August, the watch sang out,
+
+"Several sail astern, Sir! Looks like a whole squadron!"
+
+Talbot seized the glass and gazed intently at the specks of white.
+
+"Egad! It _is_ a squadron," said he, at length. "And they're after me.
+Crowd on every stitch of canvas and we'll run for it."
+
+So all sail was hoisted, and the _General Washington_ stood out to
+sea.
+
+But the sails of the pursuers grew strangely clear. They came closer,
+ever closer, and Talbot paced the deck impatiently.
+
+"Gad Zooks!" cried he, "I wish that I could fly like a bird."
+
+He could not fly, and, in two hours' time the red flag on the foremast
+of a British brig was clear to the eyes of the crew of the privateer.
+When--an hour later--a solid shot spun across his bow, "Old Si" Talbot
+hove to, and ran up the white flag. He was surrounded by six vessels
+of the English and he felt, for once, that discretion was the better
+part of valor.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"Old Si" was now thrown into a prison ship off Long Island and then
+was taken to England aboard the _Yarmouth_. Imprisoned at Dartmoor, he
+made four desperate attempts to escape. All failed.
+
+In the summer of 1781 he was liberated; found his way home to Rhode
+Island; and died "with his boots on" in New York, June 30th, 1813. The
+old sea-dogs of his native state still cherish the memory of "Capting
+Si;" singing a little song, which runs:
+
+              "He could take 'er brig or sloop, my boy,
+              An' fight her like 'er man.
+              He could steer 'er barque or barquentine,
+              An' make her act jest gran!
+              'Ole Si' wuz 'er rip-dazzler,
+              His flag wuz never struck,
+              Until 'er British squadroon,
+              Jest catched him in th' ruck.
+
+    "So drink 'er drop ter 'Ole Si,' Sky-high, Oh my!
+    Drink 'er glass ter 'Ole Si,' th' skipper from our kentry.
+    Give three cheers fer 'Ole Si,' Sky-high, Oh my!
+    Give three cheers fer 'Ole Si,' th' pride o' Newport's gentry."
+
+
+[Illustration: From "The Army and Navy of the United States."
+    AMERICAN PRIVATEER CAPTURING TWO ENGLISH SHIPS.]
+
+
+
+
+CAPTAIN "JOSH" BARNEY
+
+THE IRREPRESSIBLE YANKEE
+
+(1759-1818)
+
+
+    "Never strike your flag until you have to. And if you
+    have to, why let it come down easy-like, with one, last
+    gun,--fer luck."--_Maxims of 1812._
+
+
+CAPTAIN "JOSH" BARNEY
+
+THE IRREPRESSIBLE YANKEE
+
+(1759-1818)
+
+    If you would hear of fighting brave,
+    Of war's alarms and prisons dark,
+    Then, listen to the tale I tell,
+    Of Yankee pluck--and cruising barque,
+    Which, battling on the rolling sea,
+    There fought and won,--Can such things be?
+
+
+It was about eight o'clock in the evening. The moon was bright, and as
+the privateer _Pomona_ swung along in the fresh breeze, her Captain,
+Isaiah Robinson of New York, laid his hand softly upon the shoulder of
+his first officer, Joshua Barney, saying,
+
+"A ship off the lee-quarter, Barney, she's an Englishman, or else my
+name's not Robinson."
+
+Barney raised his glass.
+
+"A British brig, and after us, too. She's a fast sailer and is
+overhauling us. But we'll let her have a broadside from our twelve
+guns and I believe that we can stop her."
+
+The _Pomona_ carried thirty-five men. Laden with tobacco for Bordeaux,
+France, she was headed for that sunny land,--but all ready for a
+fight, if one should come to her. And for this she carried twelve
+guns, as her first officer had said.
+
+The British boat came nearer and nearer. Finally she was close enough
+for a voice to be heard from her deck, and she ran up her colors. A
+cry came from the black body,
+
+"What ship is that?"
+
+There was no reply, but the Stars and Stripes were soon floating from
+the mainmast of the American.
+
+"Haul down those colors!" came from the Britisher.
+
+There was no answer, but the _Pomona_ swung around so that her port
+guns could bear, and a clashing broadside plunged into the pursuer.
+Down came her fore-topsail, the rigging cut and torn in many places,
+and, as the American again showed her heels, the British captain cried
+out,
+
+"All sail aloft and catch the saucy and insolent privateer!"
+
+Then commenced one of the most interesting running actions of American
+naval history.
+
+"The cursed American has no stern-gun ports," said the British
+sea-captain. "So keep the ship abaft, and on th' port quarter, where
+we can let loose our bow-guns and get little in return."
+
+This was done, but--if we are to believe an old chronicler of the
+period--"The British crew had been thrown into such confusion by the
+_Pomona_'s first broadside that _they were able to fire only one or
+two shots every half hour_."
+
+"By Gad," cried Joshua Barney to Captain Robinson, about this time,
+"let's cut a hole in our stern, shove a cannon through it, and whale
+the British landlubber as he nears us for another shot with her
+bow-chasers."
+
+The captain grinned.
+
+"A good idea, Barney, a good idea," he chuckled. "Now we can teach her
+to keep clear of us."
+
+So a three-pounder soon poked her nose through the stern, and, when
+the proud Britisher again came up for one of her leisurely discharges,
+she received a dose of grape which made her captain haul off
+precipitously. Nor did he venture near again for another shot at the
+saucy fugitive.
+
+When daylight came, sixteen guns were counted upon the British brig.
+
+"By George!" shouted Barney. "See those officers in the rigging. She's
+a gun-ship--a regular ship-of-war."
+
+But Captain Robinson laughed.
+
+"That's an old game," said he. "They're tryin' to fool us into the
+belief that she's a real gun-boat, so's we'll surrender immediately.
+But see--she's drawin' near again--and seems as if she's about to
+board us from the looks of her crew."
+
+Barney gazed intently at the stranger.
+
+"You're right," said he. "Load the three-pounder with grape-shot."
+
+"And here's a crow-bar as'll top it off nice," put in a sailor.
+
+Captain Robinson laughed.
+
+"Yes, spike her in, too. She'll plunk a hole clear through th'
+rascal," he cried. "I'll touch her off myself."
+
+The British gun-boat drew nearer and nearer. Just as she was within
+striking distance--about ten yards--the three-pounder was touched off
+with a deaf'ning roar.
+
+"So accurate was the aim," says an old historian, "that the British
+were completely baffled in their attempt; their foresails and all
+their weather foreshrouds being cut away."
+
+"Give her a broadside!" called out Captain Robinson, as the brig
+sheered off in order to support its foremast, which tottered with its
+own weight; the rigging which supported it, being half cut away. And,
+as he spoke--the crew let drive a shower of balls and grape-shot. It
+was the last volley.
+
+The _Pomona_ kept upon her course, while the white sails of the
+attacker grew fainter and fainter upon the horizon.
+
+"I saw her name as she ranged in close to us," said Joshua Barney,
+slapping Captain Robinson on the back. "And it was the _Rosebud_."
+
+"I reckon that _Rosebud_ has no thorns left," chuckled Captain
+Robinson, and he was still chuckling when the little _Pomona_ safely
+sailed into the harbor of Bordeaux in France. The voyage had been a
+success.
+
+Here a store of guns, powder and shot was purchased, and, having
+shipped a cargo of brandy, and raised the crew to seventy men, the
+staunch, little vessel set sail for America.
+
+Not three days from the coast of France the cry of "Sail ho!" startled
+all on board, and, upon the starboard quarter--loomed a British
+privateer. Upon nearer view she was seen to have sixteen guns and
+seventy men.
+
+"All hands for a fight!" cried Robinson. "Don't let th' fellow
+escape."
+
+Now was a hard battle. It lasted for full two hours, and--in the
+end--the Britisher struck, with twelve killed and a number wounded,
+while the American loss was but one killed and two wounded. The
+_Pomona_ kept upon her course, jubilantly.
+
+But the saucy ship was not to have all smooth sailing. She was soon
+captured--by whom it is not known--and stout "Josh" Barney became a
+prisoner of war. In December, 1780, with about seventy American
+officers, he was placed on board the _Yarmouth_--a sixty-four-gun
+brig--and was shipped to England.
+
+Now listen to the treatment given him according to a contemporaneous
+historian. Did you ever hear of anything more atrocious?
+Peace--indeed--had more horrors than war in the year 1780.
+
+"From the time these Americans stepped aboard the _Yarmouth_ their
+captors gave it to be understood, by hints and innuendos, that they
+were being taken to England 'to be hanged as rebels;' and, indeed the
+treatment they received aboard the _Yarmouth_ on the passage over, led
+them to believe that the British officers intended to cheat the
+gallows of their prey, by causing the prisoners to die before they
+reached port.
+
+"On coming aboard the ship-of-the-line, these officers were stowed
+away in the lower hold, next to the keel, under five decks, and many
+feet below the water-line. Here, in a twelve-by-twenty-foot room, with
+upcurving floor, and only three feet high, the seventy-one men were
+kept for fifty-three days, like so much merchandise--without light or
+good air--unable to stand upright, with no means to get away.
+
+"Their food was of the poorest quality, and was supplied in such
+insufficient quantities, that, whenever one of the prisoners died, the
+survivors concealed the fact, in order that the dead man's allowance
+might be added to theirs. The water which they were served to drink
+was atrocious.
+
+"From the time the _Yarmouth_ left New York till she reached Plymouth,
+in a most tempestuous winter passage, these men were kept in this
+loathsome dungeon. Eleven died in delirium; their wild ravings and
+piercing shrieks appalling their comrades, and giving them a foretaste
+of what they, themselves, might expect. Not even a surgeon was
+permitted to visit them.
+
+"Arriving at Plymouth, the pale, emaciated men were ordered to come on
+deck. Not one obeyed, for they were unable to stand upright.
+Consequently they were hoisted up, the ceremony being grimly
+suggestive of the manner in which they had been treated,--like
+merchandise. And what were they to do, now that they had been placed
+on deck?
+
+"The light of the sun, which they had scarcely seen for fifty-three
+days, fell upon their weak, dilated pupils with blinding force; their
+limbs were unable to uphold them, their frames wasted by disease and
+want. Seeking for support, they fell in a helpless mass, one upon the
+other, waiting and almost hoping for the blow that was to fall upon
+them next. Captain Silas Talbot was one of these unfortunate
+prisoners.
+
+"To send them ashore in this condition was 'impracticable,' so the
+British officers said, and we readily discover that this
+'impracticable' served the purpose of diverting the indignation of the
+land's folk, which sure would be aroused, if they knew that such
+brutality had been practiced under the cross of St. George (the cross
+upon the British flag).
+
+"Waiting, then, until the captives could, at least, endure the light
+of day, and could walk without leaning on one another, or clutching at
+every object for support, the officers had them removed to the old
+Mill Prison."
+
+This story has been denied, for the reason that the log of the
+_Yarmouth_ shows that she was forty-four and not fifty-three days at
+sea, and the captain writes:
+
+"We had the prisoners 'watched' (divided into port and starboard
+watch) and set them to the pumps. I found it necessary so to employ
+them, the ship's company, from their weak and sickly state, being
+unequal to that duty, and, on that account to order them whole
+allowance of provisions."
+
+It would have been impossible for men to be in the condition which the
+first historian describes if they had to man the pumps. It would have
+been impossible for them to have done an hour's work. Therefore, I,
+myself, believe the second story. Don't you?
+
+But to return to stout "Josh" Barney, now meditating thoughts of
+escape in old Mill Prison. Bold and resourceful he was always, and he
+was now determined to face the difficulties of an exit and the chances
+of detection. "I must and can get away," he said.
+
+The prisoners were accustomed to play leap-frog, and one day the
+crafty "Josh" pretended that he had sprained his ankle. Constructing
+two crutches--out of pieces of boards--he limped around the
+prison-yard and completely deceived all but a few of his most intimate
+friends.
+
+One day--it was May the eighteenth, 1781--he passed a sentry near the
+inner gate. The fellow's name was Sprokett and he had served in the
+British army in America, where he had received many kindnesses from
+the country people. For this reason his heart warmed to the stout,
+young "Josh," who had often engaged him in conversation.
+
+Hopping to the gate upon his crutches, the youthful American
+whispered,
+
+"Give me a British uniform and I will get away. Can you do it?"
+
+Sprokett smiled.
+
+"Sure," said he.
+
+"To-day?"
+
+"Dinner."
+
+And this meant one o'clock, when the warders dined.
+
+"All right," whispered "Josh," smiling broadly, and he again hobbled
+around the yard.
+
+After awhile the sentry motioned for him to come nearer. He did
+so--and as he approached--a large bundle was stealthily shoved into
+his arms. He hastened to his cell and there put on the undress uniform
+of an officer of the British army.
+
+Drawing on his great-coat, he went into the yard and hobbled about
+upon his two sticks until the time drew near for the mid-day mess.
+Then he drew close to the gate.
+
+One o'clock tolled from the iron bell upon the prison rampart, and, as
+its deep-toned echoes sounded from its tower, several of Barney's
+friends engaged the half-dozen sentries in conversation. It was the
+time for action.
+
+The astute "Josh" suddenly dropped his crutches. Then--walking across
+the enclosure towards the gate,--he winked to the sentry. A companion
+was at hand. With a spring he leaped upon his shoulders. One
+boost--and he was on top of the walk. Another spring, and he had
+dropped to the other side as softly as a cat.
+
+But the second gate and sentry had to be passed.
+
+Walking up to this red-coated individual he placed four guineas (about
+$20.00) into his outstretched palm. The soldier smiled grimly, as the
+great-coat was tossed aside, and the shrewdest privateer in the
+American Navy walked towards the opening through the outer wall, which
+was usually left ajar for the convenience of the prison officials.
+Another sentry stood upon duty at this point.
+
+Barney nodded. The sentry had been "squared" (told of the coming
+escape) and so he turned his back. Thus--with his heart beating like a
+trip-hammer--"Josh," the nervy one--walked down the cobbled street
+outside of the "Old Mill." He was free.
+
+Dodging into a lane, he soon met a friend who had been told of his
+attempt, and who took him to the house of an old clergyman in
+Plymouth. In the morning, with two fellow-countrymen, who were also in
+hiding (for they had been captured as passengers in a merchant
+vessel), he secured a fishing-smack. "Josh" now covered his uniform.
+Putting on an old coat with a tarred rope tied around his waist, a
+pair of torn trousers, and a tarpaulin hat, the disguised Jack-tar ran
+the little vessel down the River Plym, just as day was dawning. The
+forts and men-of-war were safely passed, and the little shallop tossed
+upon the gleaming wavelets of the English channel.
+
+We are told that his escape was not noticed for some time because "a
+slender youth who was capable of creeping through the window-bars at
+pleasure crawled into Barney's cell (in the Old Mill Prison) and
+answered for him." I doubt this, for--if you have ever seen the bars
+of a prison--it would take a Jack Spratt to get through them, and Jack
+Spratts are not common. At any rate someone answered to the daily
+roll-call for Joshua B., so that it was full two weeks before the
+authorities knew of his escape. Perhaps there was a ventriloquist in
+the jail.
+
+The tiny boat in which the adventurous American hoped to reach the
+welcome shores of France, bobbed up and down, as she ambled towards
+the low-lying coast, under a gentle southerly breeze. But there was
+trouble in this self-same wind, for the white wings of a British
+privateer grew nearer and nearer, and a hail soon came:
+
+"What's your name, and where are you bound?"
+
+Barney and his partners in distress did not answer at all. They
+scowled as a boat was lowered from the side of their pursuer, and
+quickly splashed towards them. In not many moments, a swearing
+sea-captain swung himself upon their deck.
+
+"Who are you, you lubbers?" said he. "Where' yer papers, and where'
+yer bound to?"
+
+"I'm a British officer," replied the astute Joshua, opening his coat
+and disclosing the uniform of the service. "I am bound for France upon
+official business."
+
+The Captain snickered.
+
+"An' with two others in er' launch? Aw go tell that to th' marines!"
+
+"It's God's truth. I'm in a state secret."
+
+"Wall--be that as it may be--you must come aboard of my vessel and
+tell yer state secret to th' authorities in England. Meanwhile, I'll
+put a skipper of my own aboard yer vessel and we'll travel
+together--bein' friends."
+
+Barney swore beneath his breath.
+
+Thus the two boats beat towards the coast of Merrie England in
+company, and upon the day following, came to anchor in a small harbor,
+six miles from Plymouth. The captain of the privateer went ashore in
+order to report to Admiral Digby at Plymouth, while most of the crew
+also hastened to the beach in order to avoid the chance of being
+seized by the press-gang, which harried incoming vessels for recruits
+for His Majesty's service.
+
+"Can't I go, too?" asked the cautious "Josh."
+
+"No, you must remain on board until we come for you," said the
+captain, as he jumped into his boat en route for the shore. "Mister
+Officer, I want to search your record." Then he laughed brutishly.
+
+But Barney's thinking cap was working like a mill race. There was a
+jolly-boat tied to the stern of the privateer, and, when all were safe
+ashore, he gently slipped into this, purposely skinning his leg as he
+did so. Then he sculled to the beach; where a group of idlers stood
+looking out to sea.
+
+"Here," he cried, as he neared them. "Help me haul up this boat, will
+yer? She's awful heavy."
+
+A custom's officer was among these loiterers and he was inquisitive.
+
+"Who are you?" said he. "What regiment and where stationed, pray?"
+
+"That I cannot answer, my friend," calmly replied the acute "Josh,"
+pointing to the blood as it trickled through his stocking. "I am badly
+injured, you see, and must go away in order to get my leg tied up.
+Prithee, kind sir, can you tell me where the crew from my vessel have
+gone to?"
+
+"They are at the Red Lion at the end of the village," replied the
+official of the law. "You are, indeed, badly hurt."
+
+"Wall, I reckon," replied the American, and, stumbling up the beach,
+he was soon headed for the end of the little village.
+
+But things were not to go too well with him. He found that he was
+obliged to pass the Red Lion, and he had almost succeeded in doing so
+unmolested, when one of the sailors who was loitering outside, cried
+out after him,
+
+"Ho, friend! I would speak with you!"
+
+"Josh" had to stop although sorely tempted to run for it.
+
+"I've got some idee of shippin' in th' Navy," said the fellow, as he
+approached. "Now, friend, you can tell me somethin' of th' pay an'
+service, as you're an officer of th' army."
+
+Barney's eyes shone with pleasure, as he saw that his disguise had
+deceived the fellow.
+
+"Walk along with me towards Plymouth," said he, "and I'll explain
+everything to you. I have business there which will not wait and I
+must get on to it."
+
+So they jogged along together, talking vigorously about the Navy, but,
+in the course of half an hour the jack-tar seemed to think better of
+his plan for entering "a service noted for its cruelty to seamen," and
+turned back, saying,
+
+"Thank'ee my fine friend. Thank'ee. I'll stick to privateerin'. It's
+easier an' there's less cat-o'-nine-tails to it."
+
+As soon as his burly form disappeared down the winding road, Barney
+began to grow anxious about his safety. Perhaps a guard would be sent
+after him? Perhaps--even now--men had discovered his absence and were
+hurrying to intercept him? So--with these thoughts upon his mind--he
+jumped over a stiff hedge into the grounds of Lord Mount-Edgecumbe.
+
+"Egad! it's touch and go with me," said he, as he walked down one of
+the gravelled paths. "I'm in for it now for here comes the gardener."
+
+Sure enough, towards him ambled a middle-aged fellow, smiling as he
+pushed along a wheel-barrow filled with bulbs.
+
+Joshua walked up to him, extending his right hand.
+
+"My friend," said he, "I am an officer escaping from some seamen who
+wish my life because of a duel in which I recently engaged over the
+hand of a fair lady. Here is a guinea. It is all that I possess.
+And--if you could but pilot me to the waterside and will not tell of
+my whereabouts--I will bless you to my dying day."
+
+The good-humored man-of-the-soil smiled benignly.
+
+"Prithee, but follow me," said he, "and we'll soon see that you pass
+by the way of the water gate. Your money is most welcome, sir, for my
+wife is just now ill and doctors must be paid, sir. That you know
+right well."
+
+Barney breathed easier as they walked towards the sea; for out of the
+corner of his eye he saw a guard--sent to capture him--tramping along
+the other side of the hedge over which he had leaped.
+
+"Good-bye and good luck!" cried the kind-hearted servant as he closed
+the private gate which led to the waterside. And, with a wave of the
+hand, the fleeing American was soon hastening to the winding river,
+over which he must cross in order to get on to Plymouth.
+
+Luck was still with him. A butcher who was ferrying some beeves by
+water, took him in his boat, and, as night fell, the keen-witted
+privateersman crept through the back door of the old clergyman's house
+at Plymouth--from which he had started. For the time being, he was
+safe.
+
+Strange to relate, the two friends of the fishing-smack adventure here
+joined him once more, for they, also, had run away from the crew of
+the privateer, and--as they sat around the supper-table--the
+town-crier went by the house, bawling in harsh and discordant tones:
+
+"Five guineas reward for the capture of Joshua Barney; a rebel
+deserter from Mill Prison! Five guineas reward for this deserter! Five
+guineas! Five guineas!"
+
+But Barney stuffed his napkin into his mouth in order to stop his
+laughter.
+
+Three days later a clean-shaven, bright-cheeked, young dandy stepped
+into a post chaise, at midnight, and drove off to Exeter. At Plymouth
+gate the conveyance was stopped; a lantern was thrust into the black
+interior; and the keen eyes of the guard scanned the visages of those
+within:
+
+"He's not here," growled the watchman, lowering the light. "Drive on!"
+
+Thus Joshua Barney rolled on to home and freedom, while the
+stout-bodied soldier little guessed that the artful privateersman had
+slipped through his fingers like water through a sieve.
+
+Two months later--in the autumn of 1781--Joshua Barney: fighter,
+privateer, liar and fugitive, walked down the quiet streets of
+Beverly, Massachusetts, and a little fish-monger's son whispered to
+his companions,
+
+"Say, Boys! That feller is a Jim Dandy. He's been through more'n we'll
+ever see. Say! He's a regular Scorcher!"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Many months later--when the Revolutionary War had ended--the good ship
+_General Washington_ lay in Plymouth Harbor on the south coast of
+England. Her commander--Captain Joshua Barney--gazed contentedly at
+the Stars and Stripes as they flew jauntily from the mizzen-mast, and
+then walked to the rail, as a group of British officers came over the
+side. But there was one among these guests who was not an officer. He
+was bent, old, weather-beaten; and his dress showed him to be a tiller
+and worker of the soil. It was the aged and faithful gardener of Lord
+Mount-Edgecumbe.
+
+"You remember me?" cried the genial American, grasping the honest
+servant by the hand.
+
+The gardener's eyes were alight with pleasure.
+
+"You are the feller who jumped over the hedge--many years ago--when
+the sea-dogs were hot upon your trail."
+
+Joshua Barney chuckled.
+
+"The same," said he. "And here is a purse of gold to reward my kind
+and worthy helpmeet."
+
+So saying, he placed a heavy, chamois bag of glittering eagles into
+the trembling hands of the ancient retainer.
+
+
+
+
+THE DERELICT
+
+
+    Unmoored, unmanned, unheeded on the deep--
+    Tossed by the restless billow and the breeze,
+    It drifts o'er sultry leagues of tropic seas.
+    Where long Pacific surges swell and sweep,
+    When pale-faced stars their silent watches keep,
+    From their far rhythmic spheres, the Pleiades,
+    In calm beatitude and tranquil ease,
+    Smile sweetly down upon its cradled sleep.
+    Erewhile, with anchor housed and sails unfurled,
+    We saw the stout ship breast the open main,
+    To round the stormy Cape, and span the World,
+    In search of ventures which betoken gain.
+    To-day, somewhere, on some far sea we know
+    Her battered hulk is heaving to and fro.
+
+
+
+
+ROBERT SURCOUF
+
+THE "SEA HOUND" FROM ST. MALO
+
+(1773-1827)
+
+
+    "If you would be known never to have done anything,
+    never do it."--EMERSON.
+
+
+ROBERT SURCOUF
+
+THE "SEA HOUND" FROM ST. MALO
+
+(1773-1827)
+
+    _Parlez-vous Francais?_ Yes, Monsieur,
+    I can speak like a native,--sure.
+    Then, take off your cap to the lilies of France,
+    Throw it up high, and hasten the dance.
+    For "Bobbie" Surcouf has just come to town,
+    _Tenez!_ He's worthy of wearing a crown.
+
+
+It was a sweltering, hot day in July and the good ship _Aurora_ swung
+lazily in the torpid waters of the Indian Ocean. Her decks fairly
+sizzled in the sun, and her sails flopped like huge planks of wood.
+She was becalmed on a sheet of molten brass.
+
+"I can't stand this any longer," said a young fellow with black hair
+and swarthy skin. "I'm going overboard."
+
+From his voice it was easy to see he was a Frenchman.
+
+Hastily stripping himself, he went to the gangway, and standing upon
+the steps, took a header into the oily brine. He did not come up.
+
+"Sacre nom de Dieu!" cried a sailor. "Young Surcouf be no risen. Ah!
+He has been down ze long time. Ah! Let us lower ze boat and find
+heem."
+
+"Voila! Voila!" cried another. "He ees drowned!"
+
+_Plunkety, plunk, splash!_ went a boat over the side, and in a moment
+more, a half dozen sailors were eagerly looking into the deep, blue
+wash of the ocean.
+
+"He no there. I will dive for heem," cried out the fellow who had
+first spoken, and, leaping from the boat, he disappeared from view.
+
+In a few moments he re-appeared, drawing the body of the first diver
+with him. It was apparently helpless. The prostrate sailor was lifted
+to the deck; rubbed, worked over, scrubbed,--but no signs of life were
+there.
+
+Meanwhile, a Portuguese Lieutenant, who was pacing the poop, appeared
+to be much pleased at what took place.
+
+"The fellow's dead! The beggar's done for,--sure. Overboard with the
+rascal! To the waves with the dead 'un!"
+
+"Give us a few more moments," cried the sailors. "He will come to!"
+
+But the Lieutenant smiled satirically.
+
+"To the waves with the corpse! To the sharks with the man from St.
+Malo!" cried he.
+
+And all of this the senseless seaman heard--for--he was in a
+cataleptic fit, where he could hear, but could not move. The
+Portuguese Lieutenant and he were bitter enemies.
+
+"Oh, I tell you, Boys, the fellow's dead!" again cried the Portuguese.
+"Over with him!"
+
+So saying, he seized the inert body with his hands; dragged it to the
+ship's side; and started to lift it to the rail.
+
+Conscious of all that went on around him, the paralyzed Surcouf
+realized that, unless he could make some sign, he had only a few
+seconds to live. So, with a tremendous effort--he made a movement of
+his limbs. It was noticed.
+
+"Voila! Voila!" cried a French sailor. "He ees alife. No! No! You
+cannot kill heem!"
+
+Running forward, he grabbed the prostrate form of Robert Surcouf,
+pulled it back upon the deck, and--as the Portuguese Lieutenant went
+off cursing--he rubbed the cold hands of the half-senseless man. In a
+moment the supposed corpse had opened its eyes.
+
+"Ah!" he whispered. "I had a close call. A thousand thanks to all!"
+
+In five more moments he could stand upon the deck, and--believe me--he
+did not forget the Portuguese Lieutenant!
+
+Robert Surcouf was born at St. Malo--just one hundred years after Du
+Guay-Trouin, to whom he was related. And like his famous relative he
+had been intended for the Church,--but he was always fighting; was
+insubordinate, and could not be made to study. In fact, he was what is
+known as a "holy terror."
+
+Finally good Mamma Surcouf sent him to the Seminary of St. Dinan,
+saying:
+
+"Now, Robert, be a good boy and study hard thy lessons!"
+
+And Robert said, "Oui, Madame!" But he would not work.
+
+One day the master in arithmetic did not like the method in which
+young "Bobbie" answered him, and raising a cane, he ran towards the
+youthful scholar. But Robert had learned a kind of "Jiu-Jitsu"
+practiced by the youths of France, and he tackled his irate master
+like an end-rush upon the foot-ball team, when he dives for a runner.
+Both fell to the ground with a thud. And all the other boys yelled
+"Fine!" in unison.
+
+Now was a fierce battle, but weight told, and "Bobbie" was soon
+underneath, with his teeth in the leg of his tutor. They scratched and
+rolled until "Bobbie" freed himself, and, running to the window,
+jumped outside--for he was on the ground floor--scaled the garden
+fence, and made off. Home was twenty miles away.
+
+"I must get there, somehow," said young "Bobbie." "I can never go
+back. I will be spanked so that I cannot seat myself."
+
+So little "Bob" trudged onward in the snow, for it was winter. It grew
+dark. It was bitterly cold, and he had no hat. At length--worn out
+with cold and hunger--he sank senseless to the roadside.
+
+Luck pursues those destined for greatness.
+
+Some fish-merchants happened that way, and, seeing the poor, helpless,
+little boy, they picked him up; placed him upon a tiny dog-cart; and
+carried him to St. Malo, where he had a severe attack of pneumonia.
+But his good mother nursed him through, saying:
+
+"Ta donc! He will never be a scholar. Ta donc! Young Robbie must go to
+sea!"
+
+So when "Bobbie" was well he was shipped aboard the brig _Heron_,
+bound for Cadiz, Spain--and he was only just thirteen. But he threw up
+his cap crying,
+
+"This is just what I've always wanted. Hurrah for the salty brine!"
+
+At about twenty years of age we find him upon the good ship _Aurora_
+from which his dive into the Indian Ocean came near being his last
+splash. And the Portuguese Lieutenant did not forget.
+
+Upon the next visit of the cruiser _Aurora_ to the coast of Africa an
+epidemic of malarial fever struck the crew. Among those who succumbed
+to the disease was the Portuguese Lieutenant. He was dangerously ill.
+
+The ship arrived at the island of Mauritius, and, Lieutenant Robert
+Surcouf was just going ashore, when he received a message which said:
+
+"Come and see me. I am very ill." It was from his enemy,--the
+Portuguese.
+
+Surcouf did not like the idea, but after thinking the matter over, he
+went. But note this,--he had a pair of loaded pistols in his pocket.
+Dead men--you know--tell no tales.
+
+As he entered the sick man's cabin, a servant was there. The
+Portuguese made a sign to him to retire.
+
+"I wish to speak to you with a sincere heart," said he, turning his
+face to young Surcouf. "Before I pass from this world I want to
+relieve my conscience, and ask your forgiveness for all the evil which
+I have wished you during our voyages together."
+
+"I bear you no malice," said Surcouf. "Let by-gones be by-gones."
+
+As he spoke a spasm seemed to contort the body of the dying man. One
+arm stretched out towards a pillow nearby, and Robert had a sudden,
+but excellent thought. Stepping forward, he seized the hand of his old
+enemy, lifted the pillow, and, then started back with an exclamation
+of astonishment.
+
+"Ye Gods!" cried he. "You would murder me!"
+
+There, before him, were two cocked and loaded pistols.
+
+Leaping forward he grabbed the weapons, pointing one at the forehead
+of the rascally sailor.
+
+"You miserable beast!" cried he. "I can now shoot you like a dog, or
+squash you like an insect; but I despise you too much. I will leave
+you to die like a coward."
+
+"And," says a historian, "this is what the wretched man
+did,--blaspheming in despairing rage."
+
+In October, 1794, Lieutenant Surcouf saw his first big battle, for,
+the English being at war with the French, two British men-of-war
+hovered off the island of Mauritius, blockading the port of St.
+Thomas. They were the _Centurion_ of fifty-four guns, and the
+_Diomede_, also of fifty-four cannon, but with fewer tars. The French
+had four ships of war: the _Prudente_, forty guns; the _Cybele_,
+forty-four guns; the _Jean Bart_, twenty guns; and the _Courier_,
+fourteen guns. Surcouf was junior Lieutenant aboard the _Cybele_.
+
+It was a beautiful, clear day, as the French vessels ploughed out to
+battle; their sails aquiver with the soft breeze; their pennons
+fluttering; guns flashing; and eager sailors crowding to the rails
+with cutlasses newly sharpened and pistols in their sashes.
+
+_Boom!_
+
+The first gun spoke. The first shell spun across the bow of the
+British bull-dog _Diomede_, and the battle was on.
+
+Have you ever seen a school of pollock chasing a school of smaller
+fry? Have you ever seen them jump and splash, and thud upon the
+surface of the water?
+
+Well--that is the way that the shells looked and sounded--as they
+plumped and slushed into the surface of the southern sea; and every
+now and then there was a _punk_, and a _crash_, and a _chug_, as a
+big, iron ball bit into the side of a man-of-war.
+
+Around and around sailed the sparring assailants, each looking for a
+chance to board. _Crash! Roar! Crash!_ growled the broadsides. Shrill
+screams sounded from the wounded; the harsh voices of the officers
+echoed above the din of the conflict; and, the whining bugle squealed
+ominously between the roaring crush of grape and chain-shot.
+
+But the French got nearer and nearer. Great gaps showed in the
+bulwarks of the _Diomede_; one mast was tottering. Beaten and
+outnumbered she stood out to sea, her sailors crowding into the
+rigging like monkeys, and spreading every stitch of white canvas.
+
+"She runs! Egad, she runs!" cried the Commander of the other British
+vessel. "Faith, I cannot stand off four Frenchmen alone. I must after
+her to save my scalp."
+
+So--putting his helm hard over--he threw his vessel before the wind,
+and she spun off, pursued by bouncing shells and shrieking grapnel.
+
+"Voila!" cried the French. "Ze great battaile, eet belongs to us!" But
+there were many dead and wounded upon the decks of the proud French
+warships.
+
+Soon after this smart, little affair the soldiers and sailors who had
+been in this fight were discharged,--and--looking about for
+employment, young Robert took the first position that presented
+itself: the command of the brig _Creole_,--engaged in the slave trade.
+He made several successful voyages, but orders were issued to--
+
+    "Arrest the Slave Hunter and all his crew,
+    When they arrive at the Mauritius."
+
+One of those little birds which sometimes carry needed information,
+both on sea and land, whispered this ill news to the gallant, young
+sea-dog. So he steered for the isle of Bourbon, and there landed his
+human freight in a small bay. At daybreak he lay at anchor in the
+Harbor of St. Paul in that self-same island.
+
+About eight in the morning a boat was seen approaching, and to the
+hail,--"Who goes there?" came the reply--
+
+"Public Health Committee from St. Denis. We wish to come on board and
+to inspect your ship."
+
+Surcouf was much annoyed.
+
+"You can climb aboard," said he, stifling an exclamation of disgust.
+"I am at your service."
+
+In a few moments the commissioners were upon the deck, and, in a few
+moments more, they had discovered that the ship was a slaver.
+
+Turning to the youthful captain, one of the committee said:
+
+"You, sir, are engaged in illegal traffic. You must suffer for this,
+and must come with us at once to the city to answer an indictment
+drawn up against you."
+
+Surcouf smiled benignly.
+
+"I am at your service," said he, with a polite bow. "But do not go--I
+pray thee--until you have given me the great pleasure of partaking of
+the breakfast which my cook has hastily prepared."
+
+The Committee-men smiled.
+
+"You are very kind," said one. "We accept with pleasure."
+
+The hasty efforts of the cook proved to be most attractive. And, as
+the Commissioners smacked their lips over the good Madeira wine, the
+mate of the _Creole_ dismissed the boat which had brought the stolid
+Commissioners to the side.
+
+"The tender of our brig will take your people ashore," said he to the
+coxswain.
+
+No sooner had this tender neared the shore, than the cable of the
+_Creole_ was slipped; she left her anchorage; and quickly drew out to
+sea in a fresh sou'westerly breeze.
+
+The unaccustomed rallying soon warned the Commissioners that the
+vessel was no longer at anchor, and, rushing to the deck, they
+saw--with dismay--that a full half mile of foam-flecked ocean lay
+between them and the island.
+
+"Ye Gods!" cried one, turning to Surcouf. "What mean you by this,
+sir?"
+
+The crafty Captain was smiling like the Cheshire cat.
+
+"You are now in my power," said he--very slowly and deliberately. "I
+am going to take you to the coast of Africa among your friends--the
+negroes. You seem to prefer them to the whites, so why not, pray?
+Meanwhile,--my kind sirs,--come below and take my orders."
+
+The Commissioners were flabbergasted.
+
+"Pirate!" cried one.
+
+"Thief!" cried another.
+
+"Scamp!" shouted the third.
+
+But they went below,--mumbling many an imprecation upon the head of
+the crafty Robert Surcouf.
+
+That night the wind freshened, the waves rose, and the good ship
+_Creole_ pitched and tossed upon them, like a leaf. The Committee-men
+were very ill, for they were landsmen, and Surcouf's smile expanded.
+
+"Take us ashore! Take us ashore!" cried one. "We _must_ get upon
+land."
+
+Surcouf even laughed. Everything was as he wished.
+
+"I will land you upon one condition only," said he. "Destroy the
+indictment against me and my ship. Write a document to the effect that
+you have found no traces of slaves upon my staunch craft. Say that my
+boat was driven from her anchor by a tidal wave--and you can put your
+feet upon solid ground."
+
+The three Commissioners scowled, but he had them. Besides they were
+sea-sick.
+
+In an hour's time, the desired paper had been drawn up. The _Creole_
+was headed for the Mauritius,--and, in eight days, the sad but wiser
+Commissioners were brooding over the smartness of Robert Surcouf when
+seated in their own snug little homes. "He is a rascal," said one.
+"He's a slick and wily cur."
+
+So much reputation came to the young mariner--at this exploit--that he
+was soon offered the command of the _Emilie_: a privateer of one
+hundred and eighty tons and four guns. He accepted with glee, but when
+about to go to sea, the Governor refused him Letters of Marque.
+
+"What shall I do?" asked the crest-fallen Robert, approaching the
+owners of the trim and able craft.
+
+"Sail for the Seychelles (Islands off the east coast of Africa) for a
+cargo of turtles," said they. "If you fail to find these; fill up with
+corn, cotton and fruit. Fight shy of all English cruisers, and battle
+if you have to."
+
+Surcouf bowed.
+
+"I am not a regular privateer," he answered. "For I have no Letters of
+Marque. But I can defend myself if fired upon, and am an armed vessel
+in war-time. I may yet see some fighting."
+
+He was not to be disappointed.
+
+While at anchor at the Seychelles, two large and fat English
+men-of-war appeared in the offing. Surcouf had to run for it.
+
+Steering in among the many little islets, which here abound, he
+navigated the dangerous channels and got safely off, his men crying,
+
+"Voila! Here is a genius. We did well to ship with such a master!"
+
+But the gallant Surcouf soon turned from privateer to pirate.
+
+South of the Bay of Bengal, a cyclone struck the _Emilie_ and she was
+steered for Rangoon, where--
+
+    "The flying fishes play,
+    An' the dawn comes up like thunder,
+    Outer China across the Bay."
+
+And here a British vessel steered for her: white-winged, saucy,
+vindictive-looking.
+
+She came on valiantly, and, when within a hundred yards, pumped a shot
+across the bow of the drowsing _Emilie_. It meant "Show your colors."
+
+Hoisting the red, white and blue of France, Surcouf replied with three
+scorching shots. One struck the Britisher amid-ships, and pumped a
+hole in her black boarding.
+
+Like a timid girl, the Englishman veered off, hoisted her topsail, and
+tried to get away. She saw that she had caught a tartar.
+
+The blood was up of the "Man from St. Malo." "I consider the shot
+across my bows as an attack," said he, and he slapped on every stitch
+of canvas, so that the _Emilie_ was soon abreast of the Britisher.
+_Boom!_ A broadside roared into her and she struck her colors. Bold
+Robert Surcouf had passed the Rubicon,--he had seen the English flag
+lowered to him, for the first time; and his heart swelled with
+patriotic pride, in spite of the fact that this was an act of piracy,
+for which he could be hanged to the yard-arm.
+
+"On! On!" cried Surcouf. "More captures! More prizes!"
+
+Three days later three vessels carrying rice fell into his hands,--one
+of which,--a pilot-brig--was appropriated in place of the _Emilie_,
+which had a foul, barnacled bottom and had lost her speed. The
+_Diana_, another rice-carrier--was also captured--and Robert Surcouf
+headed for the Mauritius: pleased and happy.
+
+A few days later, as the vessels pottered along off the river Hooghly,
+the cry came:
+
+"A large sail standing into Balasore Roads!"
+
+In a moment Surcouf had clapped his glass to his keen and searching
+eye.
+
+"An East Indiaman," said he. "And rich, I'll warrant. Ready about and
+make after her. She's too strong for us,--that I see--but we may
+outwit her."
+
+The vessel, in fact, was the _Triton_, with six-and-twenty guns and a
+strong crew. Surcouf had but nineteen men aboard, including the
+surgeon and himself, and a few Lascars,--natives. The odds were
+heavily against him, but his nerve was as adamant.
+
+"My own boat has been a pilot-brig. Up with the pilot flag!" he cried.
+
+As the little piece of bunting fluttered in the breeze, the _Triton_
+hove to, and waited for him, as unsuspecting as could be. Surcouf
+chuckled.
+
+Nearer and nearer came his own vessel to the lolling Indiaman, and, as
+she rolled within hailing distance, the bold French sea-dog saw
+"_beaucoup de monde_"--a great crowd of people--upon the deck of the
+Englishman.
+
+"My lads!" cried he, turning to his crew. "This _Triton_ is very
+strong. We are only nineteen. Shall we try to take her by surprise and
+thus acquire both gain and glory? Or, do you prefer to rot in a
+beastly English prison-ship?"
+
+"Death or victory!" cried the Frenchmen.
+
+Surcouf smiled.
+
+"This ship shall either be our tomb, or the cradle of our glory," said
+he. "It is well!"
+
+The crew and passengers of the _Triton_ saw only a pilot-brig
+approaching, as these did habitually (to within twenty or thirty feet)
+in order to transfer the pilot. Suddenly a few uttered exclamations of
+surprise and dismay. The French colors rose to the mast of the
+sorrowful-looking pilot-boat, and with a flash and a roar, a heavy
+dose of canister and grape ploughed into the unsuspecting persons upon
+the deck of the Indiaman. Many sought shelter from the hail of iron.
+
+A moment more, and the brig was alongside. A crunching: a splitting of
+timber as the privateer struck and ground into the bulwarks of the
+_Triton_, and, with a wild yell--Surcouf leaped upon the deck of his
+adversary--followed by his eighteen men, with cutlass, dirks and
+pistols.
+
+There was but little resistance. The Captain of the _Triton_ seized a
+sword and made a vain attempt to stem the onslaught of the boarders,
+but he was immediately cut down. The rest were driven below, and the
+hatches clapped tight above them. In five minutes the affair was over,
+with five killed and six wounded upon the side of the English: one
+killed and one wounded among the French. Surcouf had made a master
+stroke. The _Triton_ was his own.
+
+The many prisoners were placed on board the _Diana_ and allowed to
+make their way to Calcutta, but the _Triton_ was triumphantly steered
+to the Mauritius, where Surcouf received a tremendous ovation.
+
+"Hurrah for Robert Surcouf: the sea-hound from St. Malo!" shrieked the
+townsfolk.
+
+"Your captures are all condemned," said the Governor of the island, a
+few days after his triumphant arrival. "For you sailed and fought not
+under a Letter of Marque, so you are a pirate and not a privateer.
+Those who go a-pirating must pay the piper. Your prizes belong to the
+Government of France, and its representative. I hereby seize them."
+
+Surcouf was nonplussed.
+
+"We will take this matter to France, itself," cried he. "And we shall
+see whether or no all my exertions shall go for nought."
+
+So the case was referred to the French courts, where Robert appeared
+in person to plead his cause. And the verdict was:
+
+"The captures of Captain Robert Surcouf of St. Malo are all declared
+'good prize' and belong to him and the owners of his vessel."
+
+So the wild man from St. Malo was very happy, and he and his owners
+pocketed a good, round sum of money. But he really was a pirate and
+not a privateer. _Tenez!_ He had the money, at any rate, so why should
+he care?
+
+The remaining days of Robert's life were full of battle, and, just a
+little love, for he returned to his native town during the progress of
+the law-suit--in order to see his family and his friends, and there
+became engaged to Mlle. Marie Blaize, who was as good as she was
+pretty. But the sea sang a song which ran:
+
+    "For men must work and women must weep,
+    The home of a hero is on the deep."
+
+which the stout sea-dog could not resist. So he left the charming
+demoiselle without being married, and 'tis said that she wept
+bitterly.
+
+Now came his greatest exploit.
+
+On October 7th, 1800, the hardy mariner--in command of the _Confiance_;
+a new vessel with one hundred and thirty souls aboard--was cruising
+off the Indian coast. He had a Letter of Marque this time, so all
+would go well with him if he took a prize. The opportunity soon came.
+A sail was sighted early that day, and Surcouf scanned her carefully
+through his glass.
+
+[Illustration: "SURCOUF SCANNED HER CAREFULLY THROUGH HIS GLASS."]
+
+"She's a rich prize," said he. "An Indiaman. All hands on deck.
+Make sail! Drinks all round for the men! Clear for action!"
+
+He spoke this to himself, for he was aloft, and, climbing to the deck,
+ordered everybody aft to listen to a speech. When they had collected
+there, he said, with feeling:
+
+"I suppose each one of you is more than equal to one Englishman? Very
+good--be armed and ready for boarding--and, as it is going to be hot
+work, I'll give you one hour for pillage. You can fight, and, behind
+me, you should be invincible! Strike, and strike hard; and you will be
+rich."
+
+The _Kent_ had four hundred and thirty-seven souls aboard, says an old
+chronicler, for she had picked up a great part of the crew of the
+_Queen_: an East Indiaman which had been destroyed off the coast of
+Brazil. Her Captain's name was Rivington and he was a fellow of heroic
+courage.
+
+As the _Confiance_ drew near, the crew of the Englishman gave her a
+fair broadside and pumped gun after gun into her hull. But the
+Frenchman held her fire, and bore in close, in order to grapple.
+Hoarse shouts sounded above the roar of the guns and the splitting of
+timber, as the two war-dogs closed for action. The crew of the _Kent_
+were poorly armed and undisciplined: they had never fought together.
+With Surcouf it was far different. His sailors were veterans--they had
+boarded many a merchantman and privateer before--and, they were well
+used to this gallant pastime. Besides, each had a boarding-axe, a
+cutlass,--pistol and a dagger--to say nothing of a blunderbuss loaded
+with six bullets, pikes fifteen feet long, and enormous clubs--all of
+this with "drinks all round" and the promise of pillage. No wonder
+they could fight!
+
+With a wild, ear-splitting whoop the wild men of the French privateer
+finally leaped over the rail--upon the deck of the Englishman--and
+there was fierce struggling for possession of her. At the head of his
+men, Rivington fought like a true Briton,--cutlass in hand, teeth
+clinched, eyes to the front. He was magnificent.
+
+But what could one man do against many?
+
+Back, back, the French forced the valiant lion, while his crew fell
+all about in tiers, and, at length, they drove him to the poop. He was
+bleeding from many a wound. He was fast sinking.
+
+"Don't give up the ship!" he cried, casting his eye aloft at the red
+ensign of his country.
+
+Then he fell upon his face, and the maddened followers of Surcouf
+swept over the decking like followers of Attila, the terrible Hun.
+
+"Spare the women!" shouted the French Captain above the din--and roar
+of battle. "Pillage; but spare the women!"
+
+It was well that he had spoken, for his cut-throats were wild with the
+heat of battle. In twenty minutes the _Kent_ was helpless; her crew
+were prisoners; and the saucy pennon of France fluttered where once
+had waved the proud ensign of Great Britain.
+
+Surcouf was happy. Landing the English prisoners in an Arab vessel, he
+arrived at the Mauritius with his prize in November, and soon took his
+doughty _Confiance_ to the low shores of France, catching a
+Portuguese merchant en route, and anchoring at La Rochelle, on April
+13th, 1801.
+
+Rich, famous, respected; he now married the good Mlle. Marie Blaize,
+and became the owner of privateers and a respected citizen of the
+Fatherland. Fortune had favored this brave fellow.
+
+As a prosperous ship-owner and ship-builder of his native
+village--"the Sea-Hound of St. Malo"--closed his adventurous life in
+the year 1827. And when he quietly passed away, the good housewives
+used to mutter:
+
+"Look you! Here was a man who fought the English as well as they
+themselves could fight. He was a true son of William the Conqueror.
+Look you! This was a King of the Ocean!"
+
+And the gulls wheeled over the grave of the doughty sea-warrior,
+shrieking,
+
+"He-did-it! He-did-it! He-did-it!"
+
+
+
+
+THE CRY FROM THE SHORE
+
+
+    Come down, ye greyhound mariners,
+    Unto the wasting shore!
+    The morning winds are up,--the Gods
+    Bid me to dream no more.
+    Come, tell me whither I must sail,
+    What peril there may be,
+    Before I take my life in hand
+    And venture out to sea!
+
+    _We may not tell thee where to sail,_
+    _Nor what the dangers are;_
+    _Each sailor soundeth for himself,_
+    _Each hath a separate star;_
+    _Each sailor soundeth for himself,_
+    _And on the awful sea,_
+    _What we have learned is ours alone;_
+    _We may not tell it thee._
+
+    Come back, O ghostly mariners,
+    Ye who have gone before!
+    I dread the dark, tempestuous tides;
+    I dread the farthest shore.
+    Tell me the secret of the waves;
+    Say what my fate shall be,--
+    Quick! for the mighty winds are up,
+    And will not wait for me.
+
+    _Hail and farewell, O voyager!_
+    _Thyself must read the waves;_
+    _What we have learned of sun and storm_
+    _Lies with us in our graves;_
+    _What we have learned of sun and storm_
+    _Is ours alone to know._
+    _The winds are blowing out to sea,_
+    _Take up thy life and go!_
+
+
+
+
+LAFITTE
+
+PRIVATEER, PIRATE, AND TERROR OF THE GULF OF MEXICO
+
+(1780-1826)
+
+
+    "For it's fourteen men on a dead man's chest,
+    Yo, ho, ho, and a bottle of rum."
+
+                    --STEVENSON.
+
+
+LAFITTE
+
+PRIVATEER, PIRATE, AND TERROR OF THE GULF OF MEXICO
+
+(1780-1826)
+
+    "He was the mildest mannered man,
+    That ever scuttled ship or cut a throat;
+    With such true breeding of a gentleman,
+    That you could ne'er discern his proper thought.
+    Pity he loved an adventurous life's variety,
+    He was _so_ great a loss to good society."
+
+                    --_Old Ballad._--1810.
+
+
+"Captain, we can't live much longer unless we have food. We've got
+enough to last us for two weeks' time, and then--if we do not get
+fresh provisions--we'll have to eat the sails."
+
+The fellow who spoke was a rough-looking sea-dog, with a yellow
+face--parched and wrinkled by many years of exposure--a square figure;
+a red handkerchief tied about his black hair; a sash about his waist
+in which was stuck a brace of evil-barrelled pistols. He looked grimly
+at the big-boned man before him.
+
+"Yes. You are right, as usual, Gascon. We've got to strike a foreign
+sail before the week is out, and capture her. And I, Lafitte, must
+turn from privateer to pirate. May my good mother at St. Malo have
+mercy on my soul."
+
+And, so saying, he turned to pace restlessly upon the sloping deck of
+the two-hundred-ton barque which boiled along under a spread of
+bellying canvas, and was guided by the keen eye of this youthful
+mariner. He came from the same little town in France which sheltered
+the good mother of Du Guay-Trouin, the great French "blue." His name
+was Jean Lafitte.
+
+This sea-rover had been born in 1781, and had taken to the ocean at
+the age of thirteen, when most boys are going to boarding-school.
+After several voyages in Europe, and to the coast of Africa, he was
+appointed mate of a French East Indiaman, bound to Madras in India.
+But things did not go any too well with the sturdy ship; a heavy gale
+struck her off the Cape of Good Hope; she sprung her mainmast,
+and--flopping along like a huge sea-turtle--staggered into the port of
+St. Thomas in the island of Mauritius, off the east coast of Africa.
+
+"Here," said young Lafitte to his Captain, "is where I leave you, for
+you are a bully, a braggart, and a knave."
+
+And, so saying, he cut for shore in the jolly-boat, but--if the truth
+must be known--Lafitte and the Captain were too much alike to get on
+together. They both wished to "be boss." Like magnets do not attract,
+but repel.
+
+Luck was with the young deserter. Several privateers were being fitted
+out at the safe port of St. Thomas and he was appointed Captain of one
+of them. Letters of Marque were granted by the Governor of the
+Mauritius.
+
+"Ah ha!" cried the youthful adventurer. "Now I can run things to suit
+myself. And I'll grow rich."
+
+This he speedily succeeded in doing, for, in the course of his cruise,
+he robbed several vessels which came in his path, and, stopping at the
+Seychelles (Islands off the eastern coast of Africa), took on a load
+of slaves for the port of St. Thomas. Thus he had descended--not only
+to piracy--but also to slave catching; the lowest depths to which a
+seaman could come down.
+
+When four days out from the curiously named islands, a cry went up
+from the watch,
+
+"Sail ho! Off the port bow! A British frigate, by much that's good,
+and she's after us with all speed!"
+
+To which bold Lafitte answered, "Then, we must run for it!" But he
+hoisted every bit of canvas which he had about and headed for the Bay
+of Bengal. "And," said he, "if she does not catch us and we get away,
+we'll take an English merchantman and burn her." Then he laughed
+satirically.
+
+The British frigate plodded along after the lighter vessel of Lafitte's
+until the Equator was reached, and then she disappeared,--disgruntled at
+not being able to catch the saucy tartar. But the privateersman headed
+for the blue Bay of Bengal; there fell in with an English armed schooner
+with a numerous crew; and--although he only had two guns and twenty-six
+men aboard his own vessel--he tackled the sailors from the chilly isle
+like a terrier shaking a rat. There was a stiff little fight upon the
+shimmering waves of the Indian Ocean. When night descended the
+Britisher had struck and nineteen blood-stained ruffians from the
+privateer took possession of the battered hulk, singing a song which
+ran:
+
+    "For it's fourteen men on a dead man's chest,
+    Yo-Ho-Ho and a bottle of rum."
+
+Lafitte was now feeling better; his men had been fed; he had good
+plunder; and he possessed two staunch, little craft.
+
+"Let's bear away for India, my Hearties," cried he, "and we'll hit
+another Englishman and take her."
+
+What he had said soon came to pass, for, when off the hazy, low-lying
+coast of Bengal, a rakish East Indiaman came lolling by, armed with
+twenty-six twelve-pounders and manned with one hundred and fifty men.
+A bright boarding upon her stern-posts flaunted the truly Eastern
+name: the _Pagoda_.
+
+The dull-witted Britishers had no suspicions of the weak,
+Puritan-looking, little two-'undred tonner of Lafitte's, as she glided
+in close; luffed; and bobbed about, as a voice came:
+
+"Sa-a-y! Want a pilot fer the Ganges?"
+
+There was no reply for a while. Then a voice shrilled back,
+
+"Come up on th' port quarter. That's just what we've been lookin'
+for."
+
+The fat _Pagoda_ ploughed listlessly onward, as the
+unsuspicious-looking pilot plodded up on the port side; in fact, most
+of the crew were dozing comfortably under awnings on the deck, when a
+shot rang out. Another and another followed, and, with a wild,
+ear-splitting whoop, the followers of Lafitte clambered across the
+rail; dirks in their mouths; pistols in their right hands, and
+cutlasses in their left.
+
+Now was a short and bloodless fight. Taken completely by surprise, the
+Englishmen threw up their hands and gave in only too willingly. With
+smiles of satisfaction upon their faces, the seamen of the bad man
+from St. Malo soon hauled two kegs of spirits upon the decks, and held
+high revel upon the clean boarding of the rich and valuable prize. The
+_Pagoda_ was re-christened _The Pride of St. Malo_, and soon went off
+privateering upon her own hook; while Lafitte headed back for St.
+Thomas: well-fed--even sleek with good living--and loaded down with
+the treasure which he had taken. "Ah-ha!" cried the black-haired
+navigator. "I am going to be King of the Indian waters."
+
+Now came the most bloody and successful of his battles upon the broad
+highway of the gleaming, southern ocean.
+
+Taking command of the _La Confidence_ of twenty-six guns and two
+hundred and fifty men, whom he found at the port of St. Thomas, he
+again headed for the coast of British India; keen in the expectation
+of striking a valuable prize. And his expectations were well
+fulfilled.
+
+In October, 1807, the welcome cry of "Sail Ho!" sounded from the
+forward watch, when off the Sand Heads, and there upon the starboard
+bow was a spot of white, which proved to be a Queen's East Indiaman,
+with a crew of near four hundred. She carried forty guns.
+
+There were double the number of cannon, there were double the number
+of men, but Lafitte cried out:
+
+"I came out to fight and I'm going to do it, comrades! You see before
+you a vessel which is stronger than our own, but, with courage and
+nerve, we can beat her. I will run our own ship close to the enemy.
+You must lie down behind the protecting sides of our vessel until we
+touch the stranger. Then--when I give the signal to board--let each
+man seize a cutlass, a dirk, and two pistols, and strike down all that
+oppose him. We _must_ and _can_ win!"
+
+These stirring words were greeted by a wild and hilarious cheer.
+
+Now, running upon the port tack, the _La Confidence_ bore down upon
+the Britisher with the water boiling under her bows; while the
+stranger luffed, and prepared for action. Shrill cries sounded from
+her huge carcass as her guns were loaded and trained upon the
+on-coming foe, while her masts began to swarm with sharpshooters eager
+to pick off the ravenous sea-dogs from the Mauritius.
+
+Suddenly a terrific roar sounded above the rattle of ropes and creak
+of hawsers--and a broadside cut into the _La Confidence_ with keen
+accuracy.
+
+"Lie flat upon the deck," cried Lafitte, "and dodge the iron boys if
+you can see 'em."
+
+His men obeyed, and, as the missiles pounded into the broad sides of
+their ship, the steersman ran her afoul of the Queen's East Indiaman.
+When he did so, many sailors swarmed into the rigging, and from the
+yards and tops threw bombs and grenades into the forecastle of the
+enemy, so that death and terror made the Britishers abandon the
+portion of their vessel near the mizzen-mast.
+
+"Forty of the crew will now board," cried Lafitte. "And let every
+mother's son strike home!"
+
+With pistols in their hands and daggers held between their teeth, the
+wild sea-rovers rollicked across the gunwales like a swarm of rats.
+Dancing up the deck of the Britisher they beat back all who opposed
+them, driving them below into the steerage. Shots rang out like
+spitting cats; dirks gleamed; and cutlasses did awful execution. But
+the Captain of the Indiaman was rallying his men about him on the
+poop, and, with a wild cheer, these precipitated themselves upon the
+victorious privateers.
+
+"Board! Board!" cried Lafitte, at this propitious moment, and, cutlass
+in hand, he leaped from his own vessel upon the deck of the East
+Indiaman. His crew followed with a yelp of defiant hatred, and beat
+the Captain's party back again upon the poop, where they stood
+stolidly, cursing at the rough sea-riders from St. Thomas.
+
+But Lafitte was a general not to be outdone by such a show of force.
+He ordered a gun to be loaded with grape-shot; had it pointed towards
+the place where the crowd was assembled; and cried--
+
+"If you don't give in now, I'll exterminate all of you at one
+discharge of my piece."
+
+It was the last blow. Seeing that it was useless to continue the
+unequal struggle, the British Captain held up his long cutlass, to
+which was bound a white handkerchief, and the great sea battle was
+over. Lafitte and his terrible crew had captured a boat of double the
+size of his own, and with twice his numbers.
+
+Says an old chronicler of the period: "This exploit, hitherto
+unparalleled, resounded through India, and the name of Lafitte became
+the terror of English commerce in these latitudes. The British vessels
+now traversed the Indian Ocean under strong convoys, in order to beat
+off this harpy of South Africa."
+
+"Egad," said Lafitte about this time, "these fellows are too smart for
+me. I'll have to look for other pickings. I'm off for France."
+
+So he doubled the Cape of Good Hope, coasted up the Gulf of Guinea,
+and, in the Bight of Benin, took two valuable prizes loaded down with
+gold dust, ivory, and palm oil. With these he ran to St. Malo, where
+the people said:
+
+"Tenez! Here is a brave fellow, but would you care to have his
+reputation, Monsieur?" And they shook their heads, shrugged their
+shoulders, and looked the other way when they saw him coming.
+
+The privateersman, slaver, and pirate was not going to be long with
+them, however, for he soon fitted out a brigantine, mounted twenty
+guns on her, and with one hundred and fifty men, sailed for
+Guadaloupe, among the West Indies. He took several valuable prizes,
+but, during his absence upon a cruise, the island was captured by the
+British, so he started for a more congenial clime. He roved about for
+some months, to settle at last at Barrataria, near New Orleans,
+Louisiana. He was rich; he had amassed great quantities of booty; and
+he was a man of property. Lafitte, in fact, was a potentate.
+
+"Now," said the privateer and pirate, "I will settle down and found a
+colony."
+
+But can a man of action keep still?
+
+It is true that Lafitte was not as bold and audacious as before, for
+he was now obliged to have dealings with merchants of the United
+States and the West Indies who frequently owed him large sums of
+money, and the cautious transactions necessary to found and to conduct
+a colony of pirates and smugglers in the very teeth of civilization,
+made the black-haired Frenchman cloak his real character under a
+veneer of supposed gentility. Hundreds of privateers, pirates, and
+smugglers gathered around the banner of this robber of the high seas.
+
+But what is Barrataria?
+
+Part of the coast of Louisiana is called by that name: that part lying
+between Bastien Bay on the east, and the mouth of the wide river, or
+bayou of La Fourche, on the west. Not far from the rolling, sun-baked
+Atlantic are the lakes of Barrataria, connecting with one another by
+several large bayous and a great number of branches. In one of these
+is the Island of Barrataria, while this sweet-sounding name is also
+given to a large basin which extends the entire length of the cypress
+swamps, from the Gulf of Mexico, to a point three miles above New
+Orleans. The waters from this lake slowly empty into the Gulf by two
+passages through the Bayou Barrataria, between which lies an island
+called Grand Terre: six miles in length, and three in breadth, running
+parallel with the coast. To the West of this is the great pass of
+Barrataria, where is about nine to ten feet of water: enough to float
+the ordinary pirate or privateersman's vessel. Within this pass--about
+two miles from the open sea--lies the only safe harbor upon the coast,
+and this is where the cut-throats, pirates, and smugglers gathered
+under Lafitte. They called themselves _Barratarians_, and they were a
+godless crew.
+
+At a place called Grand Terre, the privateers would often make public
+sale of their cargoes and prizes by auction. And the most respectable
+inhabitants of the State were accustomed to journey there in order to
+purchase the goods which the _Barratarians_ had to offer. They would
+smile, and say,
+
+"We are going to get some of the treasure of Captain Kidd."
+
+But the Government of the United States did not take so kindly to the
+idea of a privateer and pirate colony within its borders. And--with
+malice aforethought--one Commodore Patterson was sent to disperse
+these marauders at Barrataria, who, confident of their strength and
+fighting ability, defiantly flaunted their flag in the faces of the
+officers of the Government. "We can lick the whole earth," chuckled
+the piratical followers of Lafitte.
+
+Patterson was a good fighter. On June the eleventh he departed from
+New Orleans with seventy members of the 44th regiment of infantry. On
+the sixteenth he made for the Island of Barrataria, with some six
+gun-boats, a launch mounting one twelve pound carronade; the _Sea
+Horse_ (a tender carrying one six-pounder) and the schooner
+_Carolina_.
+
+"We must fight, Boys," cried Lafitte to his ill-assorted mates. "Come,
+take to our schooners and show these officers that the followers of
+Lafitte can battle like Trojans."
+
+A cheer greeted these noble sentiments.
+
+"Lead on!" yelled his cut-throats. "Lead on and we'll sink these cocky
+soldiers as we've done to many an East Indiaman!"
+
+So, about two o'clock in the afternoon, the privateers and pirates
+formed their vessels, ten in number (including their prizes) near the
+entrance of the harbor.
+
+_Crash!_
+
+A shell from the forward gun of the leading gun-boat spun across the
+bows of Lafitte's flagship and buried itself in the gray water with a
+dull sob.
+
+Up went a huge white flag upon the foremost mast-head of the king
+pirate and these words could be plainly seen:
+
+"Pardon for all Deserters."
+
+"Ah, ha," chuckled Patterson. "The arch ruffian has heard that some of
+my men are ashore and this is the way he would hire them."
+
+_Crash!_
+
+Another shell ricochetted across the still surface of the harbor and
+sunk itself in the side of a piratical brig.
+
+"Hello!" cried a Lieutenant, running up to the United States
+Commander. "They're giving up already. See! The beggars are hastening
+ashore in order to skip into the woods."
+
+"I'm afraid so," answered the disappointed Commodore. "All my pains
+for nothing. The fellows are getting away."
+
+Sure enough--afraid to remain and fight it out--the craven followers
+of Lafitte now turned their schooners to the shore--ran their bows
+into the sand, and, leaping overboard, made into the forest as fast as
+their legs could carry them. Thus--without firing a shot--the cowardly
+pirates of Barrataria "took to the bush."
+
+"The enemy had mounted on their vessels, twenty pieces of cannon of
+different calibre," wrote Patterson, after this tame affair. "And, as
+I have since learnt, they had from eight hundred to one thousand men
+of all nations and colors. When I perceived the pirates forming their
+vessels into a line of battle I felt confident, from their fleet and
+very advantageous position, and their number of men, that they would
+have fought me. Their not doing so I regret; for had they, I should
+have been enabled more effectually to destroy or make prisoners of
+them and their leaders; but it is a subject of great satisfaction to
+me, to have effected the object of my enterprise, without the loss of
+a man. On the afternoon of the 23rd, I got under way with my whole
+squadron, in all seventeen vessels, but during the night one escaped
+and the next day I arrived at New Orleans with my entire command."
+
+Thus ended the magnificent (?) attempt of the vainglorious Lafitte to
+stem the advance of the Government of the United States. In the
+parlance of the camp, "He was a fust-class quitter."
+
+But he did not show himself to be a "quitter" in the battle of New
+Orleans.
+
+The English and Americans, in fact, were soon at each other's throats
+in the ungentle game of war. At different times the British had sought
+to attack the pirates of Barrataria, in the hope of taking their
+prizes and armed vessels. On June 23rd, 1813, while two of Lafitte's
+privateers were lying to off of Cat Island, an English sloop-of-war
+came to anchor at the entrance of the pass, and sent out two boats in
+the endeavor to capture the rakish sea-robbers. But they were repulsed
+with severe and galling loss.
+
+On the 2nd of September, 1814, an armed brig appeared on the coast,
+opposite the famous pass to the home of the rangers of the sea. She
+fired a gun at a smuggler, about to enter, and forced her to poke her
+nose into a sand-bar; she then jibed over and came to anchor at the
+entrance to the shallows.
+
+"That vessel means business, sure," said one of the pirates to
+Lafitte. "She has spouted one gun, but now she's lyin' to. Better see
+what's up."
+
+"You're right," answered the famous sea-rover. "We'll go off in a boat
+and look out for what's going to happen."
+
+So, starting from the shore, he was soon on his way to the brig, from
+which a pinnace was lowered, in which could be seen two officers, one
+of whom had a flag of truce. The two boats rapidly neared each other.
+
+"Where is Mr. Lafitte?" cried one of the Britishers, as the pinnace
+neared the shore. "I would speak with the Laird of Barrataria."
+
+But Lafitte was not anxious to make himself known.
+
+"He's ashore," said he. "But, if you have communications for him,
+these I can deliver."
+
+"Pray, give him these packages, my good man," spoke the English tar,
+handing him a bundle of letters, tied up in tarpaulin.
+
+Lafitte smiled.
+
+"I would be delighted to do so," he replied. "But, pray come ashore
+and there I will return you your answer after I have seen the great
+Captain, who is camping about a league inland."
+
+The Britishers readily assented, and both rowed towards the sandy
+beach, where a great number of pirates of Barrataria had collected.
+
+As soon as the boats were in shallow water, Lafitte made himself known
+to the English, saying:
+
+"Do not let my men know upon what business you come, for it will go
+ill with you. My followers know that war is now on between Great
+Britain and the United States, and, if they hear you are making
+overtures with me, they will wish to hang you."
+
+It was as he had said. When the Englishmen landed, a great cry went up
+amongst the privateers, pirates and smugglers:
+
+"Hang the spies! Kill the dirty dogs! To the yard-arm with the
+rascally Englishmen! Send the hounds to New Orleans and to jail!"
+
+But Lafitte dissuaded the multitude from their intent and led the
+officers in safety to his dwelling, where he opened the package,
+finding a proclamation addressed to the inhabitants of Louisiana, by
+Col. Edward Nichalls--British commander of the land forces in this
+state--requesting them to come under the sheltering arm of the British
+Government. There were also two letters to himself, asking him to join
+and fight with the English.
+
+"If you will but battle with us," said Captain Lockyer--one of the
+British officers--"we will give you command of a forty-four gun
+frigate, and will make you a Post Captain. You will also receive
+thirty thousand dollars,--payable at Pensacola."
+
+Lafitte looked dubiously at him.
+
+"I will give answer in a few days," he replied, with courtesy.
+
+"You are a Frenchman," continued the British Captain. "You are not in
+the service of the United States, nor likely to be. Come--man--give us
+a reply at once."
+
+Captain Lafitte was obdurate, for--strange as it may seem--he wished
+to inform the officers of the State Government of this project of the
+English. So he withdrew to his own hut.
+
+As he did this, the pirates seized the British officers, dragged them
+to a cabin, and thrust them inside. A guard was stationed at the door,
+while cries went up from every quarter:
+
+"To New Orleans with the scoundrels! A yard-arm for the butchers! A
+rope's end for the scurvy tars!"
+
+Lafitte was furious when he learned of this, and, after haranguing the
+crowd, had the Britishers released.
+
+"If you treat men under a flag of truce as prisoners," he cried, "you
+break one of the first rules of warfare. You will get the same
+treatment if you, yourselves, are captured, and you will lose the
+opportunity of discovering what are the projects of the British upon
+Louisiana."
+
+His men saw the good sense of these words of advice, and acted
+accordingly.
+
+Early the next morning the officers were escorted to their pinnace
+with many apologies from Lafitte, who now wrote a letter to Captain
+Lockyer, which shows him to have been a man of considerable
+cultivation, and not a mere "rough and tumble" pirate--without
+education or refinement. He said:
+
+                               "BARRATARIA, 4th Sept., 1814.
+
+    "TO CAPTAIN LOCKYER,
+
+    "SIR:--The confusion which prevailed in our camp
+    yesterday and this morning, and of which you have a
+    complete knowledge, has prevented me from answering in a
+    precise manner to the object of your mission; nor even
+    at this moment can I give you all the satisfaction that
+    you desire. However, if you could grant me a fortnight,
+    I would be entirely at your disposal at the end of that
+    time.
+
+    "This delay is indispensable to enable me to put my
+    affairs in order. You may communicate with me by sending
+    a boat to the Eastern point of the pass, where I will be
+    found. You have inspired me with more confidence than
+    the Admiral--your superior officer--could have done,
+    himself. With you alone I wish to deal, and from you,
+    also, I will claim in due time, the reward of the
+    services which I may render you.
+
+        "Your very respectful servant,
+
+            "J. LAFITTE."
+
+His object in writing this letter--you see--was, by appearing to
+accede to the proposals, to give time to communicate the affair to the
+officers of the State Government of Louisiana and to receive from them
+instructions how to act, under circumstances so critical and important
+to his own country: that is, the country of his adoption.
+
+He, therefore, addressed the following epistle to the Governor of
+Louisiana. Do you think that you, yourself, could write as well as did
+this pirate?
+
+                               "BARRATARIA, Sept. 4th, 1814.
+
+    "TO GOVERNOR CLAIBORNE:
+
+    "SIR:--In the firm persuasion that the choice made of
+    you to fill the office of first magistrate of this
+    State, was dictated by the esteem of your fellow
+    citizens, and was conferred on merit, I confidently
+    address you on an affair on which may depend the safety
+    of this country.
+
+    "I offer to you to restore to this State several
+    citizens, who perhaps, in your eyes, have lost that
+    sacred title. I offer you them, however, such as you
+    could wish to find them, ready to exert their utmost
+    efforts in the defence of the country.
+
+    "This point of Louisiana, which I occupy, is of great
+    importance in the present crisis. I tender my services
+    to defend it; and the only reward I ask is that a stop
+    be put to the proscription against me and my adherents,
+    by an act of oblivion, for all that has been done
+    heretofore.
+
+    "I am the stray sheep wishing to return to the fold.
+
+    "If you are thoroughly acquainted with the nature of my
+    offences, I should appear to you much less guilty, and
+    still worthy to discharge the duties of a good citizen.
+    I have never sailed under any flag but the republic of
+    Carthagena, and my vessels were perfectly regular in
+    that respect.
+
+    "If I could have brought my lawful prizes into the ports
+    of this State, I should not have employed illicit means
+    that have caused me to be proscribed (hounded by the
+    State authorities).
+
+    "I decline to say more upon this subject until I have
+    your Excellency's answer, which I am persuaded can be
+    dictated only by wisdom. Should your answer not be
+    favorable to my ardent desire, I declare to you that I
+    will instantly leave the country, to avoid the
+    imputation of having cooperated towards an invasion on
+    this point, which cannot fail to take place, and to rest
+    secure in the acquittal of my conscience.
+
+        "I have the honor to be,
+
+          "Your Excellency's Most Humble Servant,
+
+            "J. LAFITTE."
+
+Now how is that for a swashbuckling privateer? Anyone would be proud
+of such a letter and it does honor to the judgment of this sand-spit
+king, giving clear evidence of a strange but sincere attachment to the
+American cause. Hurrah for the Frenchman!
+
+This missive, in fact, made such an impression upon the Governor that
+he had an interview with Lafitte, who was ushered into his presence
+only to find General Andrew Jackson (Old Hickory) closeted with the
+chief executive.
+
+"My dear sir," said the effusive Governor. "Your praiseworthy wishes
+shall be laid before the council of the State, and I will confer with
+my august friend, here present, upon this important affair, and send
+you an answer."
+
+Bowing low, the courteous privateersman withdrew.
+
+"Farewell," cried Old Hickory after his retreating form. "When we meet
+again I trust that it will be in the ranks of the American Army."
+
+And in two days' time appeared the following proclamation:
+
+"The Governor of Louisiana, informed that many individuals implicated
+in the offences hitherto committed against the United States at
+Barrataria, express a willingness at the present crisis to enroll
+themselves and march against the enemy.
+
+"He does hereby invite them to join the standard of the United States,
+and is authorized to say, should their conduct in the field meet the
+approbation of the Major General, that that officer will unite with
+the Governor in a request to the President of the United States, to
+extend to each and every individual, so marching and acting, a free
+and full pardon."
+
+When Lafitte saw these words, he fairly yelled with delight, and it is
+said that he jumped into the air, cracking his heels three times
+together before he struck the ground.
+
+The orders were circulated among his followers and most of them
+readily embraced the pardon which they held out. Thus--in a few
+days--many brave men and skillful artillerists flocked to the
+red-white-and-blue standard of the United States. And when--a few
+months afterwards--Old Hickory and his men were crouched behind a line
+of cotton bales, awaiting the attack of a British army (heroes, in
+fact, of Sargossa), there, upon the left flank, was the sand-spit King
+and his evil crew. Lafitte's eyes were sparkling like an electric
+bulb, and the language of his followers does not bear repetition.
+
+It was the morning of January eighth. The British were about to attack
+the American Army defending New Orleans, which--under the leadership
+of stout Andrew Jackson--now crouched behind the earthworks and cotton
+bales, some miles from the city. Rockets shot into the air with a
+sizzling snap. The roar of cannon shook the thin palmettos, and wild
+British cheers came from the lusty throats of the British veterans of
+Spain, as they advanced to the assault in close order--sixty men in
+front--with fascines and ladders for scaling the defences. Now a
+veritable storm of rockets hissed and sizzed into the American lines,
+while a light battery of artillery pom-pomed and growled upon the
+left flank. All was silence in the dun-colored embankments.
+
+But look! Suddenly a sheet of flame burst from the earthworks where
+lay the buck-skin-clad rangers from Tennessee and Kentucky: men who
+had fought Indians; had cleared the forest for their rude log huts,
+and were able to hit the eye of a squirrel at one hundred yards.
+_Crash! Crash! Crash!_ A flame of fire burst through the pall of
+sulphurous smoke, a storm of leaden missiles swept into the red coats
+of the advancing British, and down they fell in windrows, like wheat
+before the reaper. _Boom! Boom! Boom!_ The cannon growled and spat
+from the cotton bales, and one of these--a twenty-four pounder--placed
+upon the third embrasure from the river, from the fatal skill and
+activity with which it was managed (even in the best of battle),--drew
+the admiration of both Americans and British. It became one of the
+points most dreaded by the advancing foe. _Boom! Boom!_ It grumbled
+and roared its thunder, while Lafitte and his corsairs of Barrataria
+rammed home the iron charges, and--stripped to the waist--fought like
+wolves at bay.
+
+Two other batteries were manned by the Barratarians, who served their
+pieces with the steadiness and precision of veteran gunners. The enemy
+crept closer, ever closer, and a column pushed forward between the
+levee and the river so precipitously that the outposts were forced to
+retire, closely pressed by the coats of red. On, on, they came, and,
+clearing the ditch before the earthworks, gained the redoubt through
+the embrasures, leaped over the parapet and quickly bayonetted the
+small force of backwoodsmen who held this point.
+
+"To the rescue, men," cried Lafitte, at this juncture. "Out and at
+'em!"
+
+Cutlass in hand, the privateer called a few of his best followers to
+his side; men who had often boarded the decks of an East Indiaman and
+were well used to hand-to-hand engagements. With a wild cheer they
+leaped over the breastworks and rushed upon the enemy.
+
+The British were absolutely astonished at the intrepidity of this
+advance. Pistols spat, cutlasses swung, and one after another, the
+English officers fell before the snapping blade of the King of
+Barrataria, as they bravely cheered on their men. The practiced
+boarders struck the red-coated columns with the same fierceness with
+which they had often bounded upon the deck of an enemy, and cheer
+after cheer welled above the rattle of arms as the advancing guardsmen
+were beaten back. All the energies of the British were concentrated
+upon scaling the breastworks, which one daring officer had already
+mounted. But Lafitte and his followers, seconding a gallant band of
+volunteer riflemen, formed a phalanx which it was impossible to
+penetrate. They fought desperately.
+
+It was now late in the day. The field was strewn with the dead and
+dying. Still spat the unerring rifles of the pioneers and still
+crashed the unswerving volleys from their practiced rifles. "We cannot
+take the works," cried the British. "We must give up." And--turning
+about--they beat a sad and solemn retreat to their vessels. The great
+battle of New Orleans was over, and Lafitte had done a Trojan's share.
+
+In a few days peace was declared between the United States and Great
+Britain, and General Jackson--in his correspondence with the Secretary
+of War--did not fail to speak in the most flattering terms of the
+conduct of the "Corsairs of Barrataria." They had fought like tigers,
+and they had been sadly misjudged by the English, who wished to enlist
+them in their own cause. Their zeal, their courage, and their skill,
+were noticed by the whole American Army, who could no longer
+stigmatize such desperate fighters as "criminals." Many had been
+sabred and wounded in defence of New Orleans, and many had given up
+their lives before the sluggish bayous of the Mississippi. And now,
+Mr. Lafitte, it is high time that you led a decent life, for are you
+not a hero?
+
+But "murder will out," and once a privateer always a privateer, and
+sometimes a pirate.
+
+Securing some fast sailing vessels, the King of Barrataria sailed to
+Galveston Bay, in 1819, where he received a commission from General
+Long as a "privateer." Not content with living an honest and peaceful
+life, he proceeded to do a little smuggling and illicit trading upon
+his own account, so it was not long before a United States cruiser was
+at anchor off the port to watch his movements. He was now Governor of
+Galveston, and considered himself to be a personage of great moment.
+Five vessels were generally cruising under his orders, while three
+hundred men obeyed his word. Texas was then a Republic.
+
+    "Sir"--wrote Lafitte to the Commander of the American
+    cruiser off the port of Galveston--"I am convinced that
+    you are a cruiser of the navy, ordered here by your
+    Government. I have, therefore, deemed it proper to
+    inquire into the cause of your lying before this port
+    without communicating your intention. I wish to inform
+    you that the port of Galveston belongs to and is in the
+    possession of the Republic of Texas, and was made a port
+    of entry the 9th day of October, last. And, whereas the
+    Supreme Congress of the said Republic have thought
+    proper to appoint me as Governor of this place, in
+    consequence of which, if you have any demands on said
+    Government, you will please to send an officer with such
+    demands, who will be treated with the greatest
+    politeness. But, if you are ordered, or should attempt,
+    to enter this port in a hostile manner, my oath and duty
+    to the Government compel me to rebut your intentions at
+    the expense of my life.
+
+        "Yours very respectfully,
+
+            "J. LAFITTE."
+
+But to this the American officer paid no attention. Instead, he
+attacked a band of Lafitte's followers, who had stationed themselves
+on an island near Barrataria with several cannon, swearing that they
+would perish rather than surrender to any man. As they had committed
+piracy, they were open to assault. Twenty were taken, tried at New
+Orleans, and hung,--the rest escaped into the cypress swamps, where
+it was impossible to arrest them.
+
+When Lafitte heard of this, he said with much feeling:
+
+"A war of extermination is to be waged against me. I, who have fought
+and bled for the United States. I who helped them to win the battle of
+New Orleans. My cruisers are to be swept from the sea. I must turn
+from Governor of Galveston, and privateer to pirate. Then--away--and
+let them catch me if they can."
+
+Now comes the last phase of his career. Too bad that he could not have
+died honestly!
+
+Procuring a large and fast-sailing brigantine, mounting sixteen guns,
+and having selected a crew of one hundred and sixty men, the desperate
+and dangerous Governor of Galveston set sail upon the sparkling waters
+of the Gulf, determined to rob all nations and neither to give quarter
+nor to receive it.
+
+But luck was against him. A British sloop-of-war was cruising in the
+Mexican Gulf, and, hearing that Lafitte, himself, was at sea, kept a
+sharp lookout at the mast-head for the sails of the pirate.
+
+One morning as an officer was sweeping the horizon with his glass he
+discovered a long, dark-looking vessel, low in the water: her sails as
+white as snow.
+
+"Sail off the port bow," cried he. "It's the Pirate, or else I'm a
+landlubber."
+
+As the sloop-of-war could out-sail the corsair, before the wind, she
+set her studding-sails and crowded every inch of canvas in chase.
+Lafitte soon ascertained the character of his pursuer, and, ordering
+the awnings to be furled, set his big square-sail and shot rapidly
+through the water. But the breeze freshened and the sloop-of-war
+rapidly overhauled the scudding brigantine. In an hour's time she was
+within hailing distance and Lafitte was in a fight for his very life.
+
+_Crash!_
+
+A cannon belched from the stern of the pirate and a ball came
+dangerously near the bowsprit of the Englishman.
+
+_Crash! Crash!_
+
+Other guns roared out their challenge and the iron fairly hailed upon
+the decks of the sloop-of-war; killing and wounding many of the crew.
+But--silently and surely--she kept on until within twenty yards of the
+racing outlaw.
+
+Now was a deafening roar. A broadside howled above the dancing
+spray--it rumbled from the port-holes of the Englishman--cutting the
+foremast of the pirate in two; severing the jaws of the main-gaff; and
+sending great clods of rigging to the deck. Ten followers of Lafitte
+fell prostrate, but the great Frenchman was uninjured.
+
+A crash, a rattle, a rush, and the Englishman ran afoul of the
+foe--while--with a wild cheer, her sailors clambered across the
+starboard rails; cutlasses in the right hand, pistols in the left,
+dirks between their teeth.
+
+"Never give in, men!" cried the King of Barrataria. "You are now with
+Lafitte, who, as you have learned, does not know how to surrender."
+
+But the Britishers were in far superior numbers. Backwards--ever
+backwards--they drove the desperate crew of the pirate ship. Two
+pistol balls struck Lafitte in the side which knocked him to the
+planking; a grape-shot broke the bone of his right leg; he was
+desperate, dying, and fighting like a tiger. He groaned in the agony
+of despair.
+
+The deck was slippery with blood as the Captain of the boarders rushed
+upon the prostrate corsair to put him forever out of his way. While he
+aimed a blow a musket struck him in the temple, stretching him beside
+the bleeding Lafitte, who, raising himself upon one elbow, thrust a
+dagger at the throat of his assailant.
+
+But the tide of his existence was ebbing like a torrent; his brain was
+giddy; his aim faltered; the point of the weapon descended upon the
+right thigh of the bleeding Englishman. Again the reeking steel was
+upheld; again the weakened French sea-dog plunged a stroke at this
+half-fainting assailant.
+
+The dizziness of death spread over the sight of the Monarch of the
+Gulf of Mexico. Down came the dagger into the left thigh of the
+Captain; listlessly; helplessly; aimlessly; and Lafitte--the robber of
+St. Malo--fell lifeless upon the rocking deck. His spirit went out
+amidst the hoarse and hollow cheers of the victorious Jack-tars of the
+clinging sloop-of-war.
+
+
+    "The palmetto leaves are whispering, while the gentle trade-winds blow,
+    And the soothing, Southern zephyrs, are sighing soft and low,
+    As a silvery moonlight glistens, and the droning fire-flies glow,
+    Comes a voice from out the Cypress,
+    'Lights out! Lafitte! Heave ho!'"
+
+
+
+
+THE PIRATE'S LAMENT
+
+
+    I've been ploughin' down in Devonshire,
+    My folks would have me stay,
+    Where the wheat grows on th' dune side,
+    Where th' scamperin' rabbits play.
+    But th' smells come from th' ocean,
+    An' th' twitterin' swallows wheel,
+    As th' little sails bob landwards,
+    To th' scurryin' sea-gulls' squeal.
+
+    _Oh, it's gold, gold, gold,_
+    _That's temptin' me from here._
+    _An' it's rum, rum, rum,_
+    _That makes me know no fear._
+    _When th' man-o-war is growlin',_
+    _As her for'ard swivels roar,_
+    _As th' decks are black with wounded,_
+    _An' are runnin' red with gore._
+
+    I've been goin' to church o' Sundays,
+    An' th' Parson sure can talk,
+    He's been pleadin' for my soul, Sir,
+    In Paradise to walk.
+    An' I kind o' have th' shivers,
+    Come creepin' down my spine,
+    When th' choir breaks into music,
+    While th' organ beats th' time.
+
+    _But it's gold, gold, gold,_
+    _That glitters in my eye,_
+    _An' it's rum, rum, rum,_
+    _That makes me cheat an' lie,_
+    _When th' slaver's in th' doldrums,_
+    _Th' fleet is closin' round,_
+    _An' th' Captain calls out, furious,_
+    _"Now, run th' hound aground!"_
+
+    No matter how I farm, Sir,
+    No matter how I hoe,
+    Th' breezes from th' blue, Sir,
+    Just kind uv make me glow.
+    When th' clipper ships are racin',
+    An' their bellyin' sails go past,
+    I just leave my team an' swear, Sir,
+    I'll ship before th' mast.
+
+    _For it's gold, gold, gold,_
+    _That makes me shiver, like,_
+    _An' it's rum, rum, rum,_
+    _That makes me cut an' strike,_
+    _When th' boarders creep across th' rail,_
+    _Their soljers all in line,_
+    _An' their pistols spittin' lead, Sir,_
+    _Like er bloomin' steam engine._
+
+    So I'll kiss my plough good-bye, Sir,
+    I'll throw my scythe away,
+    An' I'm goin' to th' dock, Sir,
+    Where th' ships are side th' quay.
+    Shake out th' skull an' cross-bones,
+    Take out th' signs of Marque,
+    An' let's cut loose an' forage,
+    In a rakish ten-gun barque.
+
+
+
+
+THE MEN BEHIND THE GUNS
+
+
+    A cheer and salute for the Admiral, and here's to the Captain bold,
+    And never forget the Commodore's debt, when the deeds of might are
+        told!
+    They stand to the deck through the battle's wreck, when the great
+        shells roar and screech--
+    And never they fear; when the foe is near, to practice what they
+        preach:
+    But, off with your hat, and three times three, for the war-ship's
+        true-blue sons,
+    The men who batter the foe--my Boys--the men behind the guns.
+
+    Oh, light and merry of heart are they, when they swing into port,
+        once more,
+    When, with more than enough of the "green-backed stuff," they start
+        for their leave-o'-shore;
+    And you'd think, perhaps, that these blue-bloused chaps who loll
+        along the street,
+    Are a tender bit, with salt on it, for some fierce chap to eat--
+    Some warrior bold, with straps of gold, who dazzles and fairly stuns
+    The modest worth of the sailor boys,--the lads who serve the guns.
+
+    But, say not a word, till the shot is heard, that tells of the
+        peace-blood's ebb,
+    Till the long, low roar grows more and more, from the ships of the
+        "Yank" and "Reb."
+    Till over the deep the tempests sweep, of fire and bursting shell,
+    And the very air is a mad Despair, in the throes of a living Hell:
+    Then, down, deep down, in the mighty ship, unseen by the mid-day suns,
+    You'll find the chaps who are giving the raps--the men behind the guns.
+
+                    --ROONEY (_Adapted_).
+
+
+
+
+RAPHAEL SEMMES
+
+DESPOILER OF AMERICAN COMMERCE
+
+(1809-1877)
+
+
+    "Sit apart, write; let them hear or let them forbear;
+    the written word abides, until, slowly and unexpectedly,
+    and in widely sundered places, it has created its own
+    church."--RALPH WALDO EMERSON.
+
+
+RAPHAEL SEMMES
+
+DESPOILER OF AMERICAN COMMERCE
+
+(1809-1877)
+
+    "We started from Ole England fer to cripple up our foes,
+    We started from Ole England fer to strike some rapid blows,
+    So we coasted to the Azores where we ran a packet down,
+    And then to the Bermudas, where we burned the _Royal Crown_,
+    Then we scampered to Bahia, fer to sink the gay _Tycoon_,
+    And to scuttle the _Justina_, before the Harvest Moon.
+    We hit across the ocean to race by Cape Good Hope
+    And in Madagascar channel towed _Johanna_ with a rope.
+    Away off at Sumatra, we had lots an' lots uv fun,
+    When we winged the _Pulo Condor_; but say,--we had a run,
+    An' a pretty bit uv fightin', when we took the _Emma Jane_
+    Off th' heated coast uv India, near th' bendin' sugar cane.
+    Yes, we did some privateerin', as wuz privateerin', sure,
+    An' we scuttled many a schooner, it wuz risky business pure.
+    But--stranger--we'd be laughin', jest filled with persiflage,
+    If we hadn't had a seance with that bloomin' _Kearsarge_."
+
+                    --_Song of the Chief Mate of the Alabama._--1864.
+
+
+It was off the east coast of South America. The year was 1864, and a
+little schooner--the _Justina_--bobbed along, with the flag of the
+United States Government flying jauntily from her gaff.
+
+Suddenly there was a movement on deck. Men rushed hither and thither
+with some show of excitement. Glasses were brought out and
+raised,--smothered cries of excitement were mingled with orders to
+trim sails. All eyes looked with suspicion and dismay at a long,
+graceful vessel which was seen approaching from the northward.
+
+"The _Alabama_!" cried one.
+
+"Yes, the cursed _Alabama_!" answered another. "We are lost!"
+
+On, on came the pursuing vessel; a cloud of black smoke rolling from
+her smoke-stack; her white sails bellying in the fresh breeze; for she
+was rigged like a barquentine, with a lean body, single smoke-stack,
+and a polished rifle-gun winking in the sun-rays upon her bow. On, on,
+she came, and then--_puff! boom!_--a single shot came dancing in front
+of the slow-moving schooner.
+
+"Pull down the colors!" shouted the Captain of the _Justina_. "We're
+done for!"
+
+Down came the ensign of the United States, and the little schooner was
+luffed so that she stood still. The _Alabama_ ranged up alongside, a
+boat soon brought a crew of boarders, and, before many moments, she
+was in the hands of Captain Raphael Semmes and his men.
+
+That evening the _Alabama_ steamed southward, the crew of the
+_Justina_ was on board, her rich cargo filled the hold, and a black
+curl of smoke and hissing flames marked where the proud, little
+merchantman had once bobbed upon the rolling water. Raphael Semmes was
+happy, for his work of destroying the commerce of the United States
+Navy had progressed far better than he had hoped.
+
+[Illustration: RAPHAEL SEMMES.]
+
+"Men!" cried he, "The cause of the Confederate States of America
+was never brighter upon the ocean than now. Give three times three for
+Jeff. Davis--his soldiers and his sailors!"
+
+A rousing cheer rose above the waves, and the proud privateer bounded
+onward upon her career of destruction and death. The _Alabama_ was in
+the zenith of her power.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The scene now shifts to the harbor of Cherbourg, upon the western
+coast of France. The _Alabama_ lay there,--safely swinging at her
+anchor-chains within the break-water. She had come in to refit, for
+her bottom was much befouled by a long cruise, which had been
+successful. Built at Birkenhead, England, for the Confederate States
+Government, she set sail in August, 1862; and had been down the coast
+of North and South America; around the Cape of Good Hope to India, and
+back to the shores of France. Sixty-six vessels had fallen into her
+clutches, and of these fifty-two had been burned; ten had been
+released on bond; one had been sold, and one set free. Truly she had
+had a marvellous trip.
+
+As she slumbered on--like a huge sea-turtle--a black cloud of smoke
+appeared above the break-water, and a low-bodied United States cruiser
+slowly steamed into the harbor. She nosed about, as if looking for
+safe anchorage, and kept upon the opposite side of the little bay.
+
+Immediately all hands clambered to the side of the Confederate
+cruiser, and glasses were levelled at this vessel which carried the
+flag of opposition.
+
+"She's stronger than we are," said one of the crew.
+
+Another grinned.
+
+"Look at her eleven-pounders," said he. "I see her name, now. She's
+the _Kearsarge_, and about our tonnage, but I reckon that she carries
+more men."
+
+Captain Semmes, himself, had come up from below, and was examining the
+intruder with his glass.
+
+"Boys!" said he, "we've got to fight that ship."
+
+And, as he withdrew into the cabin, all seemed to be well pleased with
+this announcement.
+
+The _Kearsarge_, commanded by Captain John A. Winslow, had been lying
+at anchor in the Scheldt, off Flushing, Holland, when a gun roared
+from the forward part of the ship, warning those officers who had gone
+ashore, to come on board. Steam was raised, and, as soon as all were
+collected on deck, the Captain read a telegram from Mr. Dayton, the
+Minister to France from the United States. It said:
+
+"The _Alabama_ has arrived at Cherbourg. Come at once or she will
+escape you!"
+
+"I believe that we'll have an opportunity to fight her," said Captain
+Winslow. "So be prepared."
+
+At this, all of his sailors cheered wildly.
+
+The _Kearsarge_ was a staunch craft; she was two hundred and
+thirty-two feet over all, with thirty-three feet of beam, and carried
+seven guns; two eleven inch pivots, smooth bore; one thirty-pound
+rifle, and four light thirty-two pounders. Her crew numbered one
+hundred and sixty-three men. The sleeping _Alabama_ had but one
+hundred and forty-nine souls on board, and eight guns: one sixty-eight
+pounder pivot rifle, smooth bore; one one hundred-pounder pivot, and
+six heavy thirty-two pounders. So, you see, that the two antagonists
+were evenly matched, with the superior advantage of the numbers of men
+on the _Kearsarge_ offset by the extra guns of her opponent.
+
+Most of the officers upon the _Kearsarge_ were from the merchant
+service, and, of the crew, only eleven were of foreign birth. Most of
+the officers upon the _Alabama_ had served in the navy of the United
+States; while nearly all of her crew were either English, Irish, or
+Welsh. A few of the gunners had been trained aboard the _Excellent_: a
+British training ship in Portsmouth Harbor. Her Captain--Raphael
+Semmes--was once an officer in the navy of the United States. He had
+served in the Mexican War, but had joined the Southern cause, as he
+was a Marylander. He was an able navigator and seaman.
+
+The _Kearsarge_ cruised about the port of Cherbourg, poked her bows
+nearly into the break-water, and then withdrew. The French neutrality
+law would only allow a foreign vessel to remain in a harbor for
+twenty-four hours.
+
+"Will she come out?" was the question now upon every lip aboard the
+_Kearsarge_. "Will she come out and fight? Oh, just for one crack at
+this destroyer of our commerce!"
+
+But she did not come out, and the _Kearsarge_ beat around the English
+Channel in anxious suspense.
+
+Several days later Captain Winslow went ashore and paid a visit to
+the United States Commercial Agent.
+
+"That beastly pirate will not fight," he thought. "All she wants to do
+is to run away."
+
+Imagine how his eyes shone when he was handed the following epistle!
+
+              "C.S.S. _Alabama_, CHERBOURG, June 14th, 1864.
+
+    "To A. BONFILS, Esqr., Cherbourg;
+
+    "SIR:--I hear that you were informed by the United
+    States Consul that the _Kearsarge_ was to come to this
+    port solely for the prisoners landed by me, and that she
+    was to depart in twenty-four hours. I desire you to say
+    to the U. S. Consul that my intention is to fight the
+    _Kearsarge_ as soon as I can make the necessary
+    arrangements. I hope these will not detain me more than
+    until to-morrow evening, or after the morrow morning at
+    furthest. I beg she will not depart before I am ready to
+    go out.
+
+        "I have the honor to be, very respectfully,
+
+          "Your obedient servant,
+
+            "R. SEMMES, Captain."
+
+"Ha! Ha!" chuckled Winslow. "We're in for it, now. Hurray!" and he
+hastened back to his ship to spread the glad tidings.
+
+"My boys!" said he to his crew. "It is probable that the two ships
+will engage on parallel lines, and, if defeated, the _Alabama_ will
+seek for neutral waters. It is necessary, therefore, that we begin
+this action several miles from the break-water. The _Alabama_ must
+believe that she can win, or she would not fight us, for, if we sink
+her, she cannot be replaced by the Confederate Government. As for
+ourselves, let us never give up, and--if we sink--let us go down with
+the flag flying!"
+
+"Hear! Hear!" cried all. "We're with you, Captain. Never give up the
+ship!"
+
+"Clean decks, boys!" continued brave Winslow. "Get everything
+ship-shape for the coming affair, for we're in for as tight a little
+fight as e'er you entered upon."
+
+Preparations were immediately made for battle, but no _Alabama_
+appeared.
+
+Thursday passed; Friday came; the _Kearsarge_ waited in the channel
+with ports down; guns pivoted to starboard; the whole battery loaded;
+and shell, grape, and canister ready to use in any method of attack or
+defence,--but no _Alabama_ appeared. A French pilot-boat drifted near,
+and the black-eyed skipper cried out,
+
+"You fellers look out for ze _Alabama_. She take in much coal. Whew!
+She take much of ze captured stuff ashore. Whew! She scrub ze deck.
+Whew! She put ze sailors to ze business of sharpening ze cutlass and
+ze dirk. Whew! You look out for ze great privateer! Whew!"
+
+Captain Winslow only smiled.
+
+"Zey have ze big feast," continued the Frenchman. "Zey dr-e-e-nk ze
+wine. Zey stan' on ze chairs and zey say, 'We will seenk ze Yankee
+dog.' Ta donc! Zey call you ze dog!"
+
+And still Captain Winslow smiled. But, next day, his smile turned to
+a frown.
+
+It was Sunday, the nineteenth day of June. The weather was beautiful;
+the atmosphere was somewhat hazy; the wind was light; and there was
+little sea. At ten o'clock the _Kearsarge_ was drifting near a buoy
+about three miles eastward from the entrance of Cherbourg break-water.
+Her decks had been newly holy-stoned; the brass work had been cleaned;
+the guns polished, and the crew had on their Sunday clothes. They had
+been inspected, and dismissed--in order to attend divine service.
+
+At 1.20 a cry rang out:
+
+"She comes!"
+
+The bell was tolling for prayers.
+
+"The _Alabama_! The _Alabama_! She's moving, and heading straight for
+us!"
+
+All rushed to the deck; the drum beat to quarters. Captain Winslow
+laid aside his prayer-book, seized his trumpet, ordered the boat
+about, and headed seaward. The ship was cleared for action and the
+battery was pivoted to starboard.
+
+Yes, she was coming!
+
+From the western entrance of the safe, little French seaport steamed
+the long-bodied, low-hulled privateer: her rakish masts bending
+beneath the spread of canvas: her tall funnel belching sepia smoke. A
+French iron-clad frigate--the _Couronne_--accompanied her, flying the
+pennant of the Commander-of-the-Port. In her wake plodded a tiny
+fore-and-aft-rigged steamer-yacht: the _Deerhound_, showing the flag
+of the Royal Mersey (British) Yacht Club. The frigate--having convoyed
+the Confederate privateer to the limit of the French waters (three
+marine miles from the coast)--put down her helm and ploughed back into
+port. The steam yacht continued on, and remained near the scene of
+action.
+
+As the _Alabama_ had started upon her dash into the open, Captain
+Semmes had mounted a gun-carriage, and had cried,
+
+"Officers and Seamen of the _Alabama_:
+
+"You have at length another opportunity of meeting the enemy--the
+first that has been presented to you since you sank the _Hatteras_! In
+the meantime you have been all over the world, and it is not too much
+to say that you have destroyed, and driven for protection under
+neutral flags, one-half of the enemy's commerce, which, at the
+beginning of the war, covered every sea. This is an achievement of
+which you may well be proud, and a grateful country will not be
+unmindful of it. The name of your ship has become a household word
+wherever civilization extends! Shall that name be tarnished by defeat?
+The thing is impossible! Remember that you are in the English Channel,
+the theatre of so much of the naval glory of our race, and that the
+eyes of all Europe are, at this moment, upon you. The flag that floats
+over you is that of a young Republic, which bids defiance to her
+enemies whenever and wherever found! Show the world that you know how
+to uphold it! Go to your quarters!"
+
+A wild yell had greeted these stirring expressions.
+
+The shore was black with people, for the word had been passed around
+that the two sea-warriors were to grapple in deadly embrace. Even a
+special train had come from Paris to bring the sober townsfolk to
+Cherbourg, where they could view the contest. They were chattering
+among themselves, like a flock of magpies.
+
+"Voila!" said a fair damsel, whose eyes were fairly shining with
+excitement. "Oh, I hope zat ze beeg gray fellow weel win."
+
+She meant the _Alabama_, for the Confederates dressed in that sober
+color.
+
+"Zis ees ze naval Waterloo!" whispered a veteran of the Crimean War.
+
+It was 10.50 o'clock. The _Kearsarge_ had been steaming out to sea,
+but now she wheeled. She was seven miles from shore and one and
+one-quarter miles from her opponent. She steered directly for her, as
+if to ram her and crush through her side. The _Alabama_ sheered off
+and presented her starboard battery. The _Kearsarge_ came on, rapidly,
+and--at 10.57 was about eighteen hundred yards from her
+enemy--then--_Crash! Roar!_ A broadside thundered from the Confederate
+privateer, while the solid shot screamed through the rigging of the
+Yankee man-of-war.
+
+On! On! came Captain Winslow's gallant craft, while a second and a
+third broadside crashed into her. The rigging tore and swayed, but she
+was little injured. She was now within nine hundred yards.
+
+"Sheer! Sheer!" cried the Union Commander.
+
+The _Kearsarge_ spun off and broke her long silence with the
+starboard battery. _Crash! Roar!_ the shells pounded around the great
+privateer, and, with a full head of steam, the corsair of the Southern
+Confederacy swept onward. _Crash! Roar!_ she answered with shell, and
+the bursting iron shivered the foremast of her doughty opponent.
+
+Captain Winslow was fearful that the enemy would make for the shore,
+so he spun over his helm to port in the endeavor to run under the
+_Alabama_'s stern and rake her. But she sheered off, kept her
+broadside to him, and pounded away like a pugilist. The ships were a
+quarter of a mile (440 yards) away from each other. They were circling
+around in a wide arc, plugging away as fast as they could load. The
+spectators cheered, for it was as good a show as they had ever
+witnessed.
+
+"Eet ees fine!" said the veteran of the Crimea. "Eet remin' me of ze
+battaile at Balaklava!"
+
+Suddenly a wild cheer rose from the deck of the United States cruiser.
+A shot had struck the spanker-gaff on the enemy and her ensign had
+come down on the run.
+
+"Hurray!" shouted the seamen. "That means we'll win, sure!"
+
+The fallen ensign re-appeared at the mizzen, while firing from the
+_Alabama_ became rapid and wild. The gunners of the _Kearsarge_ had
+been cautioned against shooting without direct aim, and had been told
+to point their heavy guns below, rather than above the water-line.
+
+Captain Winslow was busy with his orders.
+
+"Clear the enemy's deck with the light guns!" he shouted. "Sink the
+Confederate with the heavy iron!"
+
+Cheer succeeded cheer from his sailors. Caps were thrown into the air,
+or overboard. Jackets were tossed aside. Now, certain of victory, the
+men were shouting wildly, as each projectile took effect.
+
+"That's a good one!"
+
+"Down, boys, down!"
+
+"Give her another like the last!"
+
+"Now--we have her!"
+
+The vessels continued to swing around each other in wide circles,
+and--at this moment--a sixty-eight pound Blakely shell passed through
+the starboard bulwarks of the _Kearsarge_ below the main rigging,
+exploded on the quarter-deck, and wounded three of the crew of the
+after pivot-gun. The three unfortunate men were speedily taken below,
+but the act was done so quietly, that--at the termination of the
+fight--a large number of the crew were unaware that any of their
+comrades were injured.
+
+Two shots now crashed through the port-holes occupied by the
+thirty-two pounders; one exploded in the hammock-netting; the other
+shrieked through the opposite port; yet no one was hurt. Fire blazed
+from the deck; the alarm calling for fire-quarters was sounded, and
+the men who had been detailed for this emergency put it out. The rest
+stayed at the guns.
+
+[Illustration: "THE MEN WERE SHOUTING WILDLY, AS EACH PROJECTILE TOOK
+EFFECT."]
+
+The eleven-inch shells were doing terrible execution upon the
+quarter-deck of the _Alabama_. Three of them crashed into the
+eight-inch pivot-gun port; the first swept off the forward part of
+the gun's crew; the second killed one man and wounded several others;
+the third struck the breast of the gun-carriage and spun around on the
+deck until one of the men picked it up and threw it overboard. The
+ship was careening heavily to starboard, while the decks were covered
+with the dead and dying. A shell plunged into the coal bunker and a
+dense cloud of coal dust arose. Crippled and torn, the hulking
+privateer began to settle by the stern. Her guns still spat and
+growled, and her broadsides were going wild. She was fast weakening.
+
+"Any one who silences that after pivot-gun will get one hundred
+dollars!" cried Captain Semmes, as he saw the fearful accuracy of its
+fire.
+
+_Crash!_ a whole broadside from the privateer spat at this particular
+piece. It was in vain.
+
+Around and around circled the belching _Kearsarge_. Seven times she
+had swooped about the weakening gladiator of the sea, and her fire was
+more and more accurate. She was like a great eagle closing in for a
+deaththrust. Captain Semmes was in a desperate situation.
+
+"Hoist the fore-trysail and jibs!" he called out above the din of
+cannon. "Head for the French coast!"
+
+As the sailors scrambled to obey, the _Alabama_ presented her port
+battery to the _Kearsarge_. She showed gaping sides and only two guns
+were bearing.
+
+At this moment the chief engineer came up on the deck of the
+privateer.
+
+"The fires are all out and the engines will not work!" he reported to
+Captain Semmes.
+
+The doughty seaman turned to his chief executive officer, Mr. Kell.
+
+"Go below, sir," he shouted, "and see how long the ship can float!"
+
+In a few moments the sailor had returned from his inspection.
+
+"Captain!" cried he, saluting. "She will not stay on the sea for ten
+minutes."
+
+The face of the Confederate was ashen, as he answered,
+
+"Then, sir, cease firing, shorten sail, and haul down the colors. It
+will never do in this Nineteenth Century for us to go down with the
+decks covered with our gallant wounded!"
+
+As he ceased speaking, a broadside roared from the side of his sinking
+vessel. The ensign of the _Kearsarge_ had been stopped (rolled up and
+tied with a piece of twine) and, as a shell crashed through her
+rigging, a piece hit the flag-halyards--parted them--and unstopped the
+flag. It unfurled itself gallantly in the breeze, and, as its
+beautiful striping waved aloft, the sailors upon the deck gave a loud
+cheer, for this was the omen of Victory.
+
+At this moment, two of the junior officers upon the _Alabama_ swore
+that they would never surrender, and, in a spirit of mutiny, rushed to
+the two port guns and opened fire upon the Union vessel.
+
+"He is playing us a trick!" shouted Winslow. "Give him another
+broadside!"
+
+Again the shot and shell went crashing through the sides of the
+Confederate cruiser. The _Kearsarge_ was laid across her bows for
+raking, and, in a position to use grape and canister.
+
+A white flag was then shown over the stern of the _Alabama_ and her
+ensign was half-masted; Union down.
+
+"Cease firing!" shouted Captain Winslow.
+
+The great fight was over. It had lasted one hour and two minutes.
+
+_Chugety, plug, splash!_ The boats were lowered from the _Alabama_,
+and her Master's mate rowed to the _Kearsarge_, with a few of his
+wounded.
+
+"We are sinking," said he. "You must come and help us!"
+
+"Does Captain Semmes surrender his ship?" asked Winslow.
+
+"Yes!"
+
+"All right. Then I'll help you!"
+
+Fullam grinned.
+
+"May I return with this boat and crew in order to rescue the
+drowning?" he asked. "I pledge you my word of honor that I will then
+come on board and surrender."
+
+Captain Winslow granted his request.
+
+With less generosity, the victorious Commander could have detained the
+officers and men, supplied their places with his own sailors, and
+offered equal aid to the distressed. His generosity was abused. Fullam
+pulled to the midst of the drowning; rescued several officers; went to
+the yacht _Deerhound_, and cast his boat adrift; leaving a number of
+men struggling in the water.
+
+The _Alabama_ was settling fast.
+
+"All hands overboard!" cried Mr. Kell. "Let every man grab a
+life-preserver, or a spar."
+
+As the sailors plunged into the sea, Captain Semmes dropped his sword
+into the waves and leaped outward, with a life-preserver around his
+waist. Kell followed, while the _Alabama_ launched her bows high in
+the air, and--graceful, even in her death throes--plunged
+stern-foremost into the deep. A sucking eddy of foam, spars, and
+wreckage marked where once had floated the gallant ship.
+
+Thus sank the terror of the merchantmen--riddled through and
+through--and no cheer arose as her battered hulk went down in
+forty-five fathoms of water. Her star had set.
+
+The _Deerhound_ had kept about a mile to windward of the two
+contestants, but she now steamed towards the mass of living heads,
+which dotted the surface of the sea. Her two boats were lowered, and
+Captain Semmes was picked up and taken aboard, with forty others. She
+then edged to the leeward and steamed rapidly away.
+
+An officer quickly approached Captain Winslow.
+
+"Better fire a shot at the yacht," he said, saluting. "She's got
+Captain Semmes aboard and will run off with him."
+
+Winslow smiled.
+
+"It's impossible," said he. "She's simply coming around!"
+
+But the _Deerhound_ kept on.
+
+Another officer approached the commander of the _Kearsarge_.
+
+"That beastly yacht is carrying off our men," said he. "Better bring
+her to, Captain!"
+
+"No Englishman who carries the flag of the Royal Yacht Squadron can so
+act!" Winslow replied,--somewhat pettishly. "She's simply coming
+around."
+
+But she never "came around," and Captain Raphael Semmes was soon safe
+upon British soil. He had fought a game fight. The superior gunnery of
+the sailors of the _Kearsarge_ had been too much for him. Nine of his
+crew were dead and twenty-one wounded, while the _Kearsarge_ had no
+one killed and but three wounded; one of whom died shortly afterwards.
+
+Thus,--the lesson is:
+
+If you want to win: Learn how to shoot straight!
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Captain Raphael Semmes died quietly at Mobile, Alabama, August 30th,
+1877. His ill-fated _Alabama_ had inflicted a loss of over seven
+million dollars upon the commerce of the United States.
+
+A number of wise men met, many years afterwards, in Geneva,
+Switzerland, and decided, that, as the British Government had allowed
+this vessel to leave their shores, when warned by the American
+minister of her character and intention to go privateering, it should
+therefore pay for all the vessels which the graceful cruiser had
+destroyed. England had broken the neutrality laws.
+
+John Bull paid up.
+
+    But,
+      --Boys--
+            it
+               hurt!
+
+
+
+
+EL CAPITAN
+
+
+    "There was a Captain-General who ruled in Vera Cruz,
+    And what we used to hear of him was always evil news:
+    He was a pirate on the sea--a robber on the shore,
+    The Senor Don Alonzo Estaban San Salvador.
+
+    "There was a Yankee skipper who round about did roam;
+    His name was Stephen Folger,--Nantucket was his home:
+    And having sailed to Vera Cruz, he had been _skinned_ full sore
+    By the Senor Don Alonzo Estaban San Salvador.
+
+    "But having got away alive, though all his cash was gone,
+    He said, 'If there is vengeance, I will surely try it on!
+    And I do wish that I may be hung,--if I don't clear the score
+    With Senor Don Alonzo Estaban San Salvador.'
+
+    "He shipped a crew of seventy men--well-armed men were they,
+    And sixty of them in the hold he darkly stowed away;
+    And, sailing back to Vera Cruz, was sighted from the shore
+    By the Senor Don Alonzo Estaban San Salvador.
+
+    "With twenty-five soldados, he came on board, so pleased,
+    And said '_Maldito_, Yankee,--again your ship is seized.
+    How many sailors have you got?' Said Folger, 'Ten--no more,'
+    To the Captain Don Alonzo Estaban San Salvador.
+
+    "'But come into my cabin and take a glass of wine,
+    I do suppose, as usual, I'll have to pay a fine:
+    I've got some old Madeira, and we'll talk the matter o'er--
+    My Captain Don Alonzo Estaban San Salvador.'
+
+    "And, as over the Madeira the Captain-General boozed,
+    It seemed to him as if his head were getting quite confused;
+    For, it happened that some morphine had travelled from 'the Store'
+    To the glass of Don Alonzo Estaban San Salvador.
+
+    "'What is it makes the vessel roll? What sounds are these I hear?
+    It seems as if the rising waves were beating on my ear!'
+    'Oh, it is the breaking of the surf--just that, and nothing more,
+    My Captain Don Alonzo Estaban San Salvador!'
+
+    "The Governor was in a sleep, which muddled up his brains;
+    The seventy men had caught his 'gang' and put them all in chains;
+    And, when he woke the following day, he could not see the shore,
+    For he was away out on the sea--the Don San Salvador.
+
+    "'Now do you see the yard-arm--and understand the thing?'
+    Said rough, old Folger, viciously--'for this is where you'll swing,
+    Or forty thousand dollars you shall pay me from your store,
+    My Captain Don Alonzo Estaban San Salvador!'
+
+    "The Captain he took up a pen--the order he did sign--
+    'O my, but Senor Yankee! You charge great guns for wine!'
+    Yet it was not until the draft was paid, they let him go ashore,
+    El Senor Don Alonzo Estaban San Salvador.
+
+           *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "The greater sharp will some day find another sharper wit;
+    It always makes the Devil laugh to see a biter bit;
+    It takes two Spaniards, any day, to comb a Yankee o'er--
+    Even two like Don Alonzo Estaban San Salvador."
+
+
+
+
+RETROSPECT
+
+
+    The curtain falls, the plays are done,
+    To roar of shell and shock of gun;
+    The scuttled shipping bobs and sways,
+    In grime and muck of shallow bays.
+    The tattered ensigns mould'ring lie,
+    As diving otters bark and cry;
+    While--in the lee of crumbling piers,
+    The rotting hulk its decking rears.
+    Gray, screaming kestrels wheel and sheer,
+    Above the wasted steering gear.
+    In moulding kelp and mackerel's sheen,
+    The blighted log-book hides unseen.
+    Red flash the beams of northern blaze.
+    Through beaded clouds of Elmo's haze;
+    While dim, unkempt, the ghostly crew
+    Float by, and chant the lesson true!
+
+    Sons of the fog-bound Northland; sons of the blinding seas,
+    If ye would cherish the trust which your fathers left,
+    Ye must strive--ye must work--without ease.
+    Strong have your good sires battled, oft have your fathers bled,
+    If ye would hold up the flag which they've never let sag,
+    Ye must plod--ye must creep where they've led.
+    The shimmering icebergs call you; the plunging screw-drums scream,
+    By shallowing shoals they haul you, to the beat of the walking
+        beam.
+    The twisting petrels chatter, as ye drift by the waiting fleet,
+    In your towering grim, gray Dreadnought,--a king who sneers at
+        defeat.
+    While the silken pennons flutter; as the frozen halyards strain;
+    Comes the growling old-world mutter, the voice of the million
+        slain:
+
+    _Keep to your manly war games; keep to your warrior's play._
+    _Though the dove of peace is dancing to the sounding truce harp's
+        lay._
+    _Arbitrate if you have to; smooth it o'er if you must,_
+    _But, be prepared for battle, to parry the war king's thrust._
+    _Don't foster the chip on the shoulder; don't hasten the slap in
+        the face._
+    _But, burnish your sword, ere you're older,--the blade of the
+        ancient race._
+    _Hark to the deeds of your fathers; cherish the stories I've told,_
+    _Then--go and do like, if you have to--and die--like a Hero of Old._
+
+
+
+
+Transcriber's Note
+
+Punctuation errors have been repaired. Hyphenation has been made
+consistent within the main text. There is some archaic and variable
+spelling, which has been preserved as printed.
+
+The following amendments have also been made:
+
+    Page 3--repeated book title deleted.
+
+    Page 77--omitted word 'to' added after row--"... jumped
+    into two small wherries in order to row to the lugger."
+
+    Page 156--pedlers amended to peddlers--"There are
+    tinkers, tailors, haymakers, peddlers, fiddlers, ..."
+
+    Page 178--Huzza amended to Huzzah--""... Huzzah for
+    Fortunatus Wright!""
+
+    Page 226--envolle amended to envole--""Sapristi!
+    L'oiseau s'est envole.""
+
+    Page 248--manoever amended to manoeuver--"... had simply
+    followed my manoeuver of wearing around under easy
+    helm ..."
+
+Illustrations have been moved slightly where necessary so that they
+are not in the middle of a paragraph. The frontispiece and advertising
+matter have been moved to follow the title page.
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Famous Privateersmen and Adventurers
+of the Sea, by Charles H. L. Johnston
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN ***
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