Afloat and Ashore (22 page)

This was my first command; and proud enough did I feel on the
occasion, though almost dying with the apprehension of doing something
wrong. My orders were, to make the Lizard light, and to crawl along
up-channel, keeping close in with the English coast; Captain Williams
anticipating instructions to go to the same port to which the Amanda
(the brig) was bound, and expecting to overtake us, after he had
called at Falmouth for his orders. As the Crisis could go four feet to
the Amanda's three, before sunset our old ship was hull down ahead of
us.

When I took charge of the deck the next morning, I found myself on the
wide ocean, with nothing in sight, at the age of eighteen, and in the
enemy's seas, with a valuable vessel to care for, my way to find into
narrow waters that I had never entered, and a crew on board, of whom
just one-half were now on their first voyage. Our green hands had
manifested the aptitude of Americans, and had done wonders in the way
of improvement; but a great deal still remained to be learned. The
Crisis's complement had been too large to employ everybody at all
sorts of work, as is usually done in a merchant-vessel with her
ordinary number of hands and the landsmen had to take their chances
for instruction. Notwithstanding, the men I got were stout, healthy,
willing and able to pull and haul with the oldest salts.

By the arrangement that had been made, I was now thrown upon my own
resources. Seamanship, navigation, address, prudence, all depended on
me. I confess I was, at first, nearly as much depressed by the novelty
and responsibility of my command, as Neb was delighted. But it is
surprising how soon we get accustomed to changes of this sort. The
first five or six hours set me quite at my ease, though it is true
nothing occurred in the least out of the usual way; and, by the time
the sun set, I should have been happy, could I have got over the
uneasiness produced by the darkness. The wind had got round to
south-west, and blew fresh. I set a lower and a top-mast
studding-sail, and by the time the light had entirely vanished, the
brig began to drag after her canvass in a way to keep me wide awake.
I was at a loss whether to shorten sail or not. On the one hand, there
was the apprehension of carrying away something; and, on the other,
the fear of seeming timid in the eyes of the two or three seamen I had
with me. I watched the countenances of these men, in order to glean
their private sentiments; but, usually, Jack relies so much on his
officers, that he seldom anticipates evils. As for Neb, the harder it
blew, the greater was his rapture. He appeared to think the wind was
Master Miles's, as well as the ocean, the brig, and himself. The more
there was of each, the richer I became. As for Talcott, he was
scarcely as good a seaman as myself, though he was well-educated, had
good manners, was well-connected, and had been my original competitor
for the office of third-mate. I had been preferred only through the
earnest recommendations of Marble. Talcott, however, was as expert a
navigator as we had in the ship, and had been placed with me on that
account; Captain Williams fancying two heads might prove better than
one. I took this young man into the cabin with me, not only as a
companion, but to give him consideration with the people forward. On
shore, though less fortunate in the way of state, he would have been
considered as fully my equal in position.

Talcott and myself remained on deck together nearly the whole of the
first night and the little sleep I did get was caught in a top-mast
studding-sail that lay on the quarterdeck, and which I had determined
not to set, after rowsing it up for that purpose. When daylight
returned, however, with a clear horizon, no increase of wind, and
nothing in sight, I was so much relieved as to take a good nap until
eight. All that day we started neither tack nor sheet, nor touched a
brace. Towards evening I went aloft myself to look for land, but
without success, though I knew, from our observation at noon, it could
not be far off. Fifty years ago the longitude was the great difficulty
with navigators. Both Talcott and myself did very well with the
lunars, it is true; but there was no chance to observe, and even
lunars soon get out of their reckoning among currents and tides. Glad
enough, then, was I to hear Neb sing but "Light ahead!" from the
fore-top-sail-yard. This was about ten o'clock. I knew this light
must be the Lizard, as we were too far to the eastward for Scilly. The
course was changed so as to bring the light a little on the
weather-bow; and I watched for its appearance to us on deck with an
anxiety I have experienced, since, only in the most trying
circumstances. Half an hour sufficed for this, and then I felt
comparatively happy. A new beginner even is not badly off with the
wind fresh at south-west, and the Lizard light in plain view on his
weather-bow, if he happen to be bound up-channel. That night,
consequently, proved to be more comfortable than the previous.

Next morning there was no change, except in the brig's position. We
were well in the channel, had the land as close aboard as was prudent,
and could plainly see, by objects ashore, that we were travelling
ahead at a famous rate. We went within a mile of the Eddystone, so
determined was I to keep as far as possible from the French
privateers. Next morning we were up abreast of the Isle of Wight; but
the wind had got round to the southward and eastward, becoming much
lighter, and so scant as to bring us on a taut bowline. This made
England a lee-shore, and I began to be as glad to get off it, as I had
lately been to hug it.

All this time, it will easily be understood that we kept a sharp
look-out, on board the brig, for enemies. We saw a great many sail,
particularly as we approached the Straits of Dover, and kept as much
aloof from all as circumstances would allow. Several were evidently
English vessels-of-war, and I felt no small concern on the subject of
having some of my men impressed; for at that period, and for many
years afterwards, ships of all nations that traded with the English
lost many of their people by this practice, and the American craft
more than any other. I ascribed to our sticking so close to the coast,
which we did as long as it was at all safe, the manner in which we
were permitted to pass unnoticed, or, at least, undetained. But, as we
drew nearer to the narrow waters, I had little hope of escaping
without being boarded. In the mean while, we made short stretches off
the land, and back again, all one day and night, working slowly to the
eastward. We still met with no interruption. I was fast getting
confidence in myself; handling the Amanda, in my own judgment, quite
as welt as Marble could have done it, and getting my green hands into
so much method and practice, that I should not have hesitated about
turning round and shaping our course for New York, so far as the mere
business of navigating the vessel was concerned.

The lights on the English coast were safe guides for our movements,
and they let me understand how much we made or lost on a
tack. Dungeness was drawing nearer slowly, to appearances, and I was
beginning to look out for a pilot; when Talcott, who had the watch,
about three in the morning, came with breathless haste into the cabin,
to tell me there was a sail closing with us fast, and, so far as he
could make her out in the darkness, she was lugger-rigged. This was
startling news indeed, for it was almost tantamount to saying the
stranger was a Frenchman. I did not undress at all, and was on deck in
a moment. The vessel in chase was about half a mile distant on our
lee-quarter, but could be plainly enough distinguished, and I saw at a
glance she was a lugger. There were certainly English luggers; but all
the traditions of the profession had taught me to regard a vessel of
that particular rig as a Frenchman. I had heard of privateers from
Dunkirk, Boulogne, and various other ports in France, running over to
the English coast in the night, and making prizes, just as this fellow
seemed disposed to serve us. Luckily, our head was toward the land,
and we were looking about a point and a half to windward of the light
on Dungeness, being also favoured with a flood-tide, so far as we
could judge by the rapid drift of the vessel to windward.

My decision was made in a minute. I knew nothing of batteries, or
where to seek protection; but there was the land, and I determined to
make for it as fast as I could. By keeping the brig a good full, and
making all the sail she could carry, I thought we might run ashore
before the lugger could get alongside us. As for her firing, I did not
believe she would dare to attempt that, as it might bring some English
cruiser on her heels, and France was some hours' sail distant. The
fore and mizen top-gallant-sails were set as fast as possible, the
weather-braces pulled upon a little, the bowlines eased, and the brig
kept a rap-full. The Amanda was no flyer, certainly; but she seemed
frightened as much as we were ourselves, that night. I never knew her
to get along so fast, considering the wind; and really there was a
short time when I began to think she held her own, the lugger being
jammed up as close as she could be. But this was all delusion, that
craft coming after us more like a sea-serpent than a machine carried
ahead by canvass. I was soon certain that escape from such a racer by
sailing, was altogether out of the question.

The land and light were now close aboard us, and I expected every
moment to hear the brig's keel grinding on the bottom. At this instant
I caught a faint glimpse of a vessel at anchor to the eastward of the
point, and apparently distant about a quarter of a mile. The thought
struck me that she might be an English cruiser, for they frequently
anchored in such places; and I called out, as it might be
instinctively, "luff!" Neb was at the helm, and I knew by his cheerful
answer that the fellow was delighted. It was lucky we luffed as we
did, for, in coming to the wind, the vessel gave a scrape that was a
fearful admonisher of what would have happened in another minute. The
Amanda minded her helm beautifully, however, and we went past the
nearest land without any further hints, heading up just high enough to
fetch a little to windward of the vessel at anchor. At the next
moment, the lugger, then about a cable's length from as, was shut in
by the land. I was now in great hopes the Frenchman would be obliged
to tack; but he had measured his distance well, and felt certain, it
would seem, that he could lay past. He reasoned, probably, as Nelson
is
said
to have reasoned at the Nile, and as some of his
captains unquestionably
did
reason; that is, if there was water
enough for us, there was water enough for him. In another minute I saw
him, jammed nearly into the wind's eye, luffing past the point, and
falling as easily into our wake as if drawn by attraction.

All this time, the night was unbroken by any sound. Not a hail, nor a
call, our own orders excepted, and they had been given in low tones,
had been audible on board the Amanda. As regards the vessel at anchor,
she appeared to give herself no concern. There she lay, a fine ship,
and, as I thought, a vessel-of-war, like a marine bird asleep on its
proper element. We were directly between her and the lugger, and it is
possible her anchor-watch did not see the latter. The three vessels
were not more than half a cable's length asunder; that is, we were
about that distance from the ship, and the lugger was a very little
farther from us. Five minutes must determine the matter. I was on the
brig's forecastle, anxiously examining all I could make out on board
the ship, as her size, and shape, and rig, became slowly more and more
distinct; and I hailed—

"Ship ahoy!"

"Hilloa! What brig's that?"

"An American, with a French privateer-lugger close on board me,
directly in my wake. You had better be stirring!"

I heard the quick exclamation of "The devil there is!" "Bloody
Yankees!" came next. Then followed the call of "All hands." It was
plain enough my notice had set everything in motion in that
quarter. Talcott now came running forward to say he thought, from some
movements on board the lugger, that her people were now first apprised
of the vicinity of the ship. I had been sadly disappointed at the call
for all hands on board the ship, for it was in the manner of a
merchantman, instead of that of a vessel-of-war. But we were getting
too near to remain much longer in doubt. The Amanda was already
sweeping up on the Englishman's bows, not more than forty yards
distant.

"She is an English West-Indiaman, Mr. Wallingford," said one of my
oldest seamen; "and a running ship; some vessel that has deserted or
lost her convoy."

"Do you
know
anything of the lugger?" demanded an officer from
on board the ship, in a voice that was not very amicable.

"No more than you see; she has chased me, close aboard, for the last
twenty minutes."

There was no reply to this for a moment, and then I was asked—"To
tack, and give us a little chance, by drawing him away for a few
minutes. We are armed, and will come out to your assistance."

Had I been ten years older, experience in the faith of men, and
especially of men engaged in the pursuit of gain, would have prevented
me from complying with this request; but, at eighteen, one views these
things differently. It did appear to me ungenerous to lead an enemy in
upon a man in his sleep, and not endeavour to do something to aid the
surprised party. I answered "ay, ay!" therefore, and tacked directly
alongside of the ship. But the manoeuvre was too late, the lugger
coming in between the ship and the brig, just as we began to draw
ahead again, leaving him room, and getting a good look at us both. The
Englishman appeared the most inviting, I suppose, for she up helm and
went on board of him on his quarter. Neither party used their guns. We
were so near, however, as plainly to understand the whole, to
distinguish the orders, and even to hear the blows that were struck by
hand. It was an awful minute to us in the brig. The cries of the hurt
reached us in the stillness of that gloomy morning, and oaths mingled
with the clamour. Though taken by surprise, John Bull fought well;
though we could perceive that he was overpowered, however, just as the
distance, and the haze that was beginning to gather thick around the
land, shut in the two vessels from our view.